Voices floated around her, attempting to draw her attention but Mary's thoughts were already distracted. She couldn't focus on anything but the warm breath creeping up her neck. Her fingernails dug into the wooden seat that every student sat on during dinner, desperate to ignore the sensation. The great hall was bright with laughter and life unless one took notice of the color draining from Mary's face. It was happening again. Breathe in. Breathe out. With foolish hope, Mary tried to steady her breath before losing her composure. There is no one there, Mary... Come on now... Stop it! She repeated these words over and over to herself, trying to grasp onto reality firmly. No one was there, but she could feel it slithering right outside of vision. Rapid shallow breaths instructed her it was time to go.
Everything was slowly slipping from focus, but she battled on with a smile in the direction of her friend, Lily Evans. "I'll be right back. Good luck with James." The words stumbled off her tongue as if she had enjoyed too much firewhiskey. Evans rolled her eyes at the thought of James Potter, ignoring the butterflies that fluttered, trying to escape from her belly. "Thanks a lot, Mar!" Her sarcasm had lost its edge, but Mary paid no attention; she needed to get away.
Over the summer, her therapist had instructed Mary to breathe in deeply and let her fears flow out with her breath; they hadn't believed her when she swore she was sane but Mary hadn't felt confident that they would have. Muggle therapists are not very reliable in a world of the unexplained and impossible. She had followed her mother's advice rather than stick to her guns about therapy, but even then, she held onto the tactics they instructed her to use as if they were the last shred of hope for her sanity.
Weak pale fingers gripped the staircase railing for merely a moment before the sensation came rushing back. The warmth of its breath tickled her neck; typically, there were no sounds before it happened but the scruff of a shoe rung in her ears before darkness swallowed the red-head whole. Mary had been losing track of time; moments that escaped her memory filled her days and nights. Nothingness and desperation welcomed her back to life. A hollow laugh escaped colorless lips as Mary's eyes fluttered open to take in her surroundings. "Why is it always here?" Shakily, she rose to her feet and dusted off the dirt that littered the grounds of Hogwarts. Moonlight peaked out from behind the clouds that hung in the night sky, illuminating a path back towards the castle.
Her feet stayed still as her mind wandered towards her father. Her mother used to call him eccentric before they came to take him away. "I'm losing my mind. That's it. I'm my father's daughter." Werewolves howling from inside the forbidden forest caused a shiver to crawl up her spine, reminding her where she stood. She hurriedly rushed towards the castle, praying to get inside without being caught. Only the Marauders had cost Gryffindor more house points than she had. Professors hadn't believed her "I don't remember what happened" reasoning for being out after dark. Breathing out her anxiety, Mary warmed her fingers to ignore the questions that haunted her; was she truly losing her mind?
She never noticed the eyes peering out from the darkness or the scruff of its shoe, scraping the forest grounds behind her.
