"What d'you mean, Harry, I live here--" Ron broke off, feeling quite the prat. "Oh. Right. Not talking to me."
The unreality kept pressing on him, not the least of which was watching Harry have a conversation with someone only his daughter could see and someone he couldn't hear.
His hand closed over Harry's, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "What's she saying?" For some reason, his voice dropped to a whisper.