The three people in the townhouse were silent for an extended moment. Then, Mary began nervously giggling.
"A what? Oh, I must have really knocked my head. Am I dreaming right now? Hah, a witch. That's funny, oh man." She started to pinch herself in an effort to wake up and escape this odd dream. Her efforts were futile, and Harry slowly placed his hand over hers to catch her attention.
Harry nervously glanced to McGonagall. "Professor, not to be rude, but are you sure? I mean, she appears to by my age... 17? 18 or so?" He inquired of Mary.
"Just turned 18 last month," she replied. Mary glanced back up at McGonagall and Harry, recognizing that her efforts to wake up were futile, at least for the moment.
Harry lowly grunted in response, and turned back to McGonnagal.
"So she's my age. Isn't it impossible for her to come into her magical inheritance this late? We can usually recognize the signs by the age of 11. Are you sure she isn't a squib?"
McGonagall slowly shook her head. "No, Harry, I'm sure. She actually has quite a strong magical core, but it's cracking as though it's only beginning to awaken." She turned back to Mary. "Dear, if you don't mind me asking, do you have any medical issues?"
Mary debated whether or not to answer these questions to the two strangers she just met, but figuring she was in a dream, she opted to go for it.
"Well, I have had a history of major depression and anxiety for quite a few years now... Signs of it came in my pre-teen years, and I guess I haven't really figured out how to manage it. I have been on medicine for quite a while," she shyly responded.
McGonagall looked deep in thought and met Mary's eyes. There was no denying that this young woman indeed had a prominent magical core. But why was it only just awakened? Was it something to do with her illnesses? Young wizards and witches rarely were afflicted with such conditions, as their magic supplemented their minds with the correct chemicals to prevent such an issue. She addressed Mary once again.
"Miss Turner, it appears that there may have been a correlation with your conditions and your magic that have prevented you from presenting your core at the usual age. However, there is no denying it. You indeed have a strong magic, and some force has sheltered it all these years."
Mary was still in denial. "Is this some ploy to sell me something? Magic doesn't exist. It just can't. If it did, wouldn't I be different? Please just let me leave now, I would like to go home."
Harry glanced back at McGonagall, who very slightly nodded at the young man. "Here Mary, I'll show you some proof. Please bear with me, I know how shocking it can be to see magic for the first time."
Harry pulled out his wand and enunciated the simple spell Lumos. At this, a bright light erupted from the tip of his wand, lighting up the interior of the townhouse.
Mary fell to the ground for the second time that day.