Harry pushed cracked glasses up onto his nose, squinting in the dim light and rubbing at his head, a little dazed. They hadn't exactly been tossed gently here.
He'd worked out how they were found, and had been kicking himself since, Harry's habitual mouthing off when faced with danger had eventually died off into sullen guilty silence.
He pushed himself to his feet too, looking over as Hermione spoke, cut off before he could ask if they were all right. "Luna?" It made sense she was there, he supposed. Why keep prisoners separate? He was glad to see her, but not - for the same reasons she wasn't strictly happy to see them. "I was an idiot and broke the taboo. Are you all right? We've been trying to look for you. . ." But hadn't found much of use.