Ginny leaned back in her seat again, slouching and pulling her foot up into her lap as she waited for Harry to be ready to talk. She fidgeted with the bits of string hanging off the hem of her denims to give her hands something to do.
When he finally did start talking, she looked up at him, but didn't quite meet his eyes. "You've got every right to be angry, Harry. She didn't exactly do herself any favors starting in the way she did when she first got here and it isn't like you've had a whole lot of chances to confront her about...everything."
Honestly, Ginny didn't know the full extent to what Harry had been subjected to in the Dursley's house. She knew that he never looked like he had enough to eat, and she knew about the bars that had been on his windows when Ron and the twins had stolen the car to go rescue him, and she knew that they were generally miserable people to have to deal with. Most (if not all) of the details she was privy to were overheard. And they were quite reason enough in Ginny's book to hate the awful woman and want her no where near Harry or any of her kids.