Harry woke to sunlight filtering through the common room window, bright enough to send daggers of pain straight to his brain. His mouth felt fuzzy and tasted rancid, and he was fairly certain he had actual grains of sand in his eyes. He was overheated and somehow cold at the same time, and a wave of nausea hit him as soon as he sat up. He bolted for the bathroom but didn’t make it, puking into a bin in the corner of the common room.