Charlie had to admit that healers knew some pretty interesting spells. Like this one: something that let him sit up and be reclined in a sitting position, but his back never touched the bed. He hovered a good five inches from the bed, and no matter how much he tried to move, he was hovering there in his recline, like he was in an easy chair at home. Not too bad! Between that and the changed bandages and the general brightness of the new day made Charlie's mood pick up.
Of course, he couldn't remember a thing from when he started to hallucinate from the shock of his blood loss. Oh, and Charlie was on a lot of pain potions and numbed salves, so he was in a pretty delightfully light place whether he wanted to be or not.
Idly flipping through a memoir of Glynnis Griffiths but unable to focus, Charlie mostly stared absently out the window as he fought the urge to sleep again. He let his eyes close for a moment, and when he opened them, he noticed someone coming in the room. Someone that he had been waiting to visit since he had woken up fully about twenty minutes ago.
"Hullo there, snitch," he said, his face breaking up in joyful, heavy relief as Ginny came in.