Ferdie still has a headache. It's not as bad as it was in the mines, but there's a lingering echo of it, somewhere in the back of his head. He doesn't bother telling the emergency healers that. It's not like they can do a lot. And right now it's only that, and the small hole in his sweater sleeve that he caught on probably a rock in the mines. His fingers keep circling that, breaking the threads farther apart. He's also staring at the window a lot, because Ferdie never really imagined there'd be sun again.

Which is stupid. The rays of light through the window are so warm now, thinking the other way seems crazy. Surely, there was not a time when everything was dark. Maybe this never happened. He rubs at his temples, and the throbbing pain there is reassuring. And then Ferdie makes himself as quietly busy as he can, ushering people away from Aurors if they look like they're about to annoy them; Prefect stuff like that. He's a Prefect again. He's glad for it, though. He can't quite stop yet. That seems like the most frightening idea of all.