Sweat beaded on his forehead as Ginny tore herself from sleep in tandem with him, and he couldn't tear his gaze away from her. His knuckles were almost white as he clutched his wand tightly, his hand shaking as he looked her over. All of the malice in her eyes, the hatred, the disdain... it was gone. But it was also so fresh, so real, that it was hard for him to just toss it aside as though it had never happened.
But it had never happened, right? It was a nightmare.
He could still feel the pain though, running through his limbs. His jaw tight, his muscles tense. Her voice... it was so gentle. The voice he had expected to hear in his dream...
"Ginny?" he questioned, as though he was worried it wasn't really her. His voice was rough, gravelly as he slowly... began to lower his wand, but not entirely. Not yet, he couldn't.
"I... I saw..." he couldn't bring himself to finish though. It hurt too much.