Hermione wakes from dreamless sleep blind and alone in the dark, panic sweeping over her as the memories of what happened earlier that night come slamming back in a vicious maelstrom. It's too much too fast, and she sits up with a jerk, gasping for air, injuries protesting sharply. She is no longer disconnected and locked away in her mind, but fully present and excruciatingly vulnerable to the onslaught. She remembers it all, and it hurts so much. Her gasps turn into sobs that tear from her raggedly as she pulls her knees up to her chest, and buries her face in her hands.