Ginny wanted to cry now that Harry was here looking at her like he hadn't seen her in years. She closed her eyes and swallowed. Her mouth was dry again, her throat parched.
When she opened her eyes, he was still there, still holding her hand. She tried to smile at him, but she couldn't tell if it was actually working. Bloody potions.
"Fine," she said. "If you don't count the fact that I can't move my arms and legs." She wanted to lighten the mood. If she didn't, she was going to cry, and she would be mortified crying like a weakling in front of Harry.