Though Hazel had been watching the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room expectantly, after two third years had scurried upstairs and a fourth year had given her a strange look before doing the same, she'd gone herself to fetch a packet of biscuits. She was positively starved, and sweets would just be guilt on top of guilt and therefore agreeable to her current state of feeling.
To come back down the stairs to see Ernie just falling into a couch, well. She nearly dropped her biscuits. Walking as though on glass over to where he had collapsed, Hazel's voice was soft and reedy.
"Ernie?"
She didn't go so far as to ask something silly like, Are you okay? For he so clearly was not.