Mary set her phone down again, opting to let this call go to voicemail rather than answer it. Sighing to herself, she felt ashamed. I'm eighteen years old, and I still have anxiety over answering the phone?
It was hard enough to navigate deciding where to attend college, but add on maintaining distancing friendships, work, and keeping on top of studies- it was overwhelming. Mary lifted her phone, checked the time, and figured it was late enough to head out for a bit of comfort food.
Mary left the small apartment she shared with her parents, not worrying about leaving a note, because they were still busy at their respective jobs. It was a chilly February day, so she decided on some comfort food.
Tightening an oversized white scarf over her blonde hair, she headed down the street to her favorite restaurant, preoccupied with finding a sufficiently melodramatic playlist on her phone when it happened.
She was not looking ahead, so she was unable to see who had bumped into her. But the next thing she knew, Mary was being bumped into the wall of a store; well, rather, through it. Sufficiently dizzy, she fell to the ground and laid there for a few moments, not sure what had happened.
"Miss? Are you alright?" Came the sound of a worried voice. Mary looked up and saw a fit man with dark black hair and, well, a rather unusual scar or birthmark on his forehead.
She straightened herself up quickly with the help of this stranger, embarrassed about the small scene she had caused. Mary took a quick look at her surroundings, and saw that she was in an odd-looking sort of pub, with quite a few people looking at her.
She glanced back up at the man who had helped her, and shyly asked, "I'm sorry, where am I? The last I knew I was on my phone, finding a playlist, then I fell through somewhere, and I was on the ground, and... Well, can you please tell me where I am?"
The young man widened his eyes at her words and Mary could see a glimpse of abrupt surprise in his green eyes.
"If you could please follow me, Miss. I believe I know what's happening, and there is someone I would like you to see. I'm sure McGonagall would love to meet you as well," he state, his calm facade barely hiding the excitement evident underneath.
Mary didn't know why she trusted this stranger, but there was something about the fine lines and dark circles stained under his eyes that led her to believe this man had been through a lot. Despite her not understanding where she was or what was happening at all, Mary accepted his arm and followed him out of the room.