While the Ministry may have ruled for the moment that the fog itself was harmless, it was apparent that the effects it had on both the magic and non-magical community meant that wasn't the case. While she hadn't heard any reports of suffocation, coughing fits, or poisonings from the dusty substance that clouded the air, she had been dispatched to deal with reports of collisions, trippings, and sticky situations that people were incapable of magicing themselves out of! Altogether, Dionisa had just grown impatient—especially since her wand didn't work here.

She'd been in Irvingly that afternoon on routine—it had become protocol for one mediwizard or witch from Hogsmeade Hospital to be stationed in the nearby village—when the cries of a gentleman were heard. Dionisa had made it through the day unscathed, yet had been finding her stress levels rising simply because her vision had become impaired.

Thus, she relied on her hearing to find her way to the auror, who she didn't notice until a foot appeared through the thickness of the fog. "Sir!" she called, moving closer until his entire body came into sight.

"Sir, what's happened to you?" She addressed him in alarm, crouching beside him and beginning to search his body for any profuse bleeding—or worse. Hopefully, this was nothing more than a mere tripping.

---