She kept a guiding hand on his back the entire way to the hospital wing, though Harry was sure she was holding herself back from supporting him more securely. Though he was steadier on his feet than he had been, Harry felt no less shaky. He was finally beginning to feel cold as his sweat dried on his skin, which only served to worsen his tremors, and his head was throbbing like there was a marching band playing in between his ears. He kept having to fight the temptation to touch his forehead, half convince by the searing pain in his scar that his skin had been split open.