It was very peaceful under the pillow. Mary had dragged it under the covers with her and replaced it over her head, and between them and the bedcurtains, she really almost couldn't hear anything at all from beyond the bedroom. No one shouting for her incessantly, and none of the accompanying silence that meant no one else gave a shite what was going on. No barmy Slytherin boys appearing to cover for their friends, or ply her with lies, trying to make her trust them, saying that they cared. Just her and the dark and the quiet and the weight of the pillow over her face, making it hard to breathe, but that was oddly comforting.
And then she heard the door open.
Mary's first confused thought was that somehow he had gotten in, and panicked instinct took over; she tumbled out of bed almost before she was aware that she was moving, putting the bed between herself and the door and dropping into a defensive posture that was almost a crouch. It took her several seconds to register that it was a girl who'd come in, and several more as she blinked in the sudden light to figure out that it was Alice Potter. She straightened slowly, trying to calm her breathing from the rapid pace it had taken.