Activity Introduction

[Prof. Sindor Aloyarc]

You don’t usually get Ministry memos at breakfast. Certainly not ones delivered by an enchanted paper plane, which divebombs your last sausage link and does a neat orbit before unfolding itself on your plate. You blink. 'This must be a joke.’

The message is stamped with the golden seal of the Department of Magical Integration, which you’re pretty sure you’ve never even heard of:

OPERATION MUGGLE MASQUERADE
You have been selected for temporary deployment under the Department of Magical Integration. This placement requires full discretion.
Participation is, of course, entirely optional (assuming you don’t mind a followup visit from Magical Law Enforcement). We’re sure you’ll find the experience enriching, character building, and only mildly chaotic.
Report immediately to Platform 7¾ at King’s Cross Station. Dress code: Muggle casual. No visible wands. No spellcasting unless authorized.
Good luck, Agent.

By the time you look up, the plane has folded itself again and vanished with a puff of confetti that smells disgustingly of printer ink.

Better safe than sorry, within the hour you're at King’s Cross, standing between Platforms 7 and 8 and ready to enter a ¾ that to the best of your knowledge doesn’t exist. You mutter the passphrase you were given ("Silicon chips and paperclips") and feel the world hiccup. A thin doorway appears between the brick columns, unexpectedly blinking neon. Before you can second-guess yourself, you step through.

The inside is baffling. Fluorescent lighting. Mismatched chairs. A bowl of individually wrapped candies labeled “Muggle morale boosters.” Standing in front of a whiteboard is a wizard in jeans, trainers, and a “CTRL + ALT + OBLIVIATE” novelty T-shirt.

“Welcome, welcome!” he says cheerfully, gesturing you in. “I’m Greg. Senior Liaison for Magical-Muggle Harmonization. You’re just in time for the briefing.”

You take a seat beside a few other bewildered witches and wizards, all looking equally undercaffeinated and out of their depth.

Greg claps his hands and launches into a presentation with the enthusiasm of someone who drinks three butterbeers before breakfast. “Alright team, here’s the deal. Every few years as needed, we run a covert exercise called Muggle Masquerade.”

He clicks a gadget in his hand and the whiteboard flickers behind him, revealing a cheerful diagram of a Muggle town labeled Bridgeton-on-Beck. Underneath: Population: 4,208. Magical Incidents: 7 (and rising).

“You’re going in as temporary residents of Bridgeton. Your objective? To blend in, observe local customs, and help us track down a series of low level magical anomalies that have cropped up recently. Someone is leaking enchantments into Muggle space, and we need to figure out who, what, and how.”

You raise a hand. “What kind of anomalies?”

Greg sighs, dramatically flipping to the next slide. A blurry photo shows what appears to be a garden gnome dancing the cha-cha on top of a vending machine.

“Small stuff so far. Animated furniture. Whistling water fountains. A haunted self checkout machine that won’t stop asking customers to ‘please remove all curses from the bagging area.’ But the energy signatures suggest a pattern, and we think it’s deliberate.”

Everyone is sitting up a little straighter now. This just got interesting.

“You’ll each be given a Muggle alias and a role in the community! Librarian, barista, substitute drama teacher, dog walker, that sort of thing. You’ll receive a ‘starter pack’ of Muggle tools: phone, keys, credit card, ID. Do not try to eat any of them.”

There’s a quiet shuffling as someone discreetly puts their “Muggle card” back in their pocket.

Greg continues, more serious now. “You’re not to reveal your magical identity to anyone unless absolutely necessary. You’ll be staying at designated flats around town. Check-ins will happen magically, but subtly. And remember, Muggles are more perceptive than we give them credit for. Act normal. Be boring.”

Your stomach twists. Not from nerves, exactly, but from the thrill of something new. This isn’t just a mission, it’s an adventure. A challenge. A game with real stakes.

Greg wraps up the briefing. “Each day, you’ll receive a new directive. Places to visit, people to observe, magical anomalies to investigate. Follow your instincts! Just keep your wand hidden, and above all, don’t draw attention.”

He pauses, then adds with a wink, “Unless, of course, it’s very funny.”

When you arrive to Bridgeton-on-Beck, the town looks entirely ordinary. Neat brick houses with rows of parked cars. A playground echoing with the shouts of schoolchildren. You hear a distant train followed by a doorbell and dogs barking. The hum of Muggle life is all around you.

In your pocket is a tiny Ministry notebook enchanted to record observations. In your other pocket, your new identity badge.

Name: Alex Rivers
Occupation: Assistant Manager, Mug Life Café
Hobbies: Knitting, birdwatching, competitive coupon clipping
Notable Muggle Traits: Very quiet, knows every bus schedule by heart, alphabetizes their spice rack weekly, still pays bills at the post office

You glance around. Somewhere out there is a magical leak. Possibly a prankster, if not something worse. Your job is to find out and to not, under any circumstances, get caught doing magic.

Welcome to the masquerade!