"I've slept enough," he told her. "Even managed to eat, too. Harry and your mum have made sure of that."
He ignored her first question for the moment, choosing to answer the easier of the two. "It's 3:15, Saturday morning," he told her. "And you did. You were exhausted, and they had you on stronger potions then."
Considering her a moment, he debated whether or not to tell her just how bad she'd been injured. He finally decided he may as well. She'd catch sight of herself eventually, or someone would say something. "Best they can figure, you were hit with a blasting curse at some point before or after the bookcase fell on you."