The world greeted Hermione through the thick film of what must have been the single worst headache she had ever experienced; the stumbling and fitful process of rejoining the living made all the more arduous by the immediate realization that yes, she would much prefer to remain dead to the world. Unfortunately the blistering pain behind her eyes wasn’t giving up without a fight, and seemed to throw itself into a frightening pain at the mere thought of being banished. Her pulse throbbed within her temple, nausea deep within her gut boiling and roiling around, her body twisting and turning as she fought to shove her face deeper into the pillow underneath her. Bits and pieces of her last memories fell into place as she lay there in the midst of pretending she was fine, laborious and annoying as she attempted to correlate what she remembered with where she was.