"No, they don't change very much." Remus chuckled. "At least not that I've seen. It's just Healers' opinions on how to treat them that tend to change."
His smile turned a little sad when he heard the crack in her voice and saw the tears at even the oblique mention of Ginny. "The snapdragons," he recalled, thinking back on that first conversation. "You said you'd planted them with your mother from seeds your grandmother gave you. And then promptly asked if it was really weird meeting your parents now that they were old." That memory drew another chuckle. "If I remember correctly, you compared it to someone throwing a giant Confundus on the world, which I still think is a pretty apt description."
When she came to sit down, he reached across the intervening space to put his hand gently over hers. "We'll find a way to stop the confusion and help you figure out what's real and what isn't."
He smiled, thinking perhaps it was a good thing he wasn't important enough in the grand scheme of things in this war to make meddling with memories of him necessary. Maybe that was something they could build on to help her. "I'm glad I could make you feel better, though, even just memories."