Hermione couldn't hold pieces of her thoughts together and everything was a blur. And dark. She supposed that was because her eyes were closed. There'd been fighting but she was too sedated to remember the details or how she'd gotten so foggy or here. Where was here? Where was she? And those voices, she knew those voices. Merlin, what was she on? She opened her eyes just a tick, just barely enough to see outlines of furniture and people and...oh, she was in St. Mungo's, wasn't she? She hadn't been there in ages, but it kind of smelled like St. Mungo's. How had she gotten here? The fighting and...then what? Oh, Ron. Was he here still? Had he come with her?
"Ron?" she asked quietly, almost inaudibly. Oh, God, it hurt to breathe, it hurt to lie there in bed. It hurt to exist. She felt her face contort into a wince but drew a breath anyway so she could say it just a bit louder. "Ron?"