Mary wandered through the tunnels, looking for the first year girls dormitory. She eventually finds a honey-colored door that is labeled for year one. She enters, admiring the quilts and bed-warmers.

To her surprise, Mary finds that her trunk and cat basket have been delivered straight to the end of a bed. "I guess this is mine," she says to herself, setting Blue down in the basket. She put her transfiguration book back in the trunk, instead selecting her potions and herbology textbooks, which seemed to go hand-in-hand.

She excited the dormitory again, eager to find a reading alcove.

Tossing and turning. That's what Archer Calrissian was doing. Well, and having a nightmare. And....sweating? Why was she sweating? It wasn't hot in the room. But she was hot and she didn't mean in the sense of looks (although, normally..). Eventually, the heat was enough to wake her up and she sat up in her bed, blinking sleepily and trying to catch her bearings.

She reached up to push her hair off her face and felt.....something soft. But not like her normal hair. She ran her fingers through it again. Definitely not her hair. She grabbed her make-up mirror from her bedside table and took a look in it. And did a double take. Then kicked her covers off. And then screamed at the top of her lungs.

"AHHHHHHHHHH! ZORYN SPINNET, I AM GOING TO MURDER YOU!

Because the Gryffindor was obviously behind whatever had caused her to resemble Cousin It, right? Like, she was LITERALLY COVERED IN FUR. Totally the fault of the prank-loving Gryffindor.

May felt terrible. She had screamed at Ronan!! She sat quietly crying in the back of the dormitory, feeling bad for him and hating herself. Noble had offered to talk to her in the common room, but she didn't want to go where Ronan was, so she stayed here, crying to the point of pain. Her young kitten, blue, nudged around the muddy soccer ball she had discarded next to the bed. She just wanted to go home. Hogwarts was no longer exciting or cool. It was a place of danger were she could never feel truly comfortable.

Maybe she could go home. Nevermind, she was going home. She moved over to her trunk, leaving a trail of tears on the floor. She then opened it up and began to pack. Hogwarts was no longer her home.