The rearing head of a basilisk — fangs sinking into pale skin — red hair wet against stone — a horrible, drawn-out scream…

Harry wakes with a start, eyes having barely focused on the canvas ceiling before leaping up from the bunk.

It's a moment before he realizes where he is, and he lets out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Harry? What're you doing awake?"

"Hermione?"

"Yeah, it's me. What's wrong?" she says, noticing Harry's pained expression.

"…Nothing. You should go back to sleep."

The bed creaks as Hermione sits down.

"Ginny's okay, Harry," she says softly.

"I know."