The prospect left him feeling hollow and desolate, and he struggled to sit up, blinking blearily around him. Between his pounding head, painfully parched mouth, and the aching stiffness from sleeping on the hard dirt, Draco felt like utter shit. He sat up, thinking about how expressive Hermione was, how she practically radiated her feelings, and he imagined her hatred for him would be palpable when he saw her next. He decided he would stay down here for as long as possible, and try to avoid her wrath.