Located beside Whitehall in Westminster, London, the capital of the United Kingdom, 10 Downing Street was a Georgian-style building. Inside the office that belonged to the Muggle Prime Minister, he was sitting rather stiffly and foolishly in a chair with his wife and son, while a small suitcase rested on the carpet.
Unlike the sunny day the weather forecast had predicted, the sky beyond the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows was overcast and heavy with cloud, but the Prime Minister's mood was unaffected. He had turned on every light in the sitting room and kept glancing from time to time at the white fireplace in the room.
The Prime Minister's wife was focusing her attention on the small suitcase provided by her husband's guards. The round-faced woman with the short chin was still wondering how this little thing had managed to hold everything they needed—which was also what had finally convinced her, after only just learning that another Magical World existed, that her husband had not gone mad.
The Prime Minister's adolescent son had slightly curly brown hair that made his face look small, but his complexion was very pale. His swollen eyes, as if he had stayed up all night, looked rather dull, making his skin seem poor, and quite a few of the little red spots boys his age were especially prone to had appeared on his face. But he clearly did not share his parents' nervousness or interest, and was half-sprawled listlessly in his chair.
Then a soft cough came from a small oil painting in the corner of the sitting-room wall, drawing the family's attention.
"To the Muggle Prime Minister! Headmaster Allen Harris requests a meeting. Please respond at once!"
In the painting, the ugly little man wearing a long silver wig and looking like a green caterpillar