"They have a mark, a mark that won't ever really go away, just fades. On their left forearm. The Dark Mark. It's a snake, sort of coming out of a skull, like-" he grabbed a napkin and doodled a passable likeness. "D'you think, they'd show up here? Blimey, we just- we just put them all away." A terrible thought occurred to him- if Lupin and Tonks and Snape were all back, what about Bellatrix- or, Mum and Dad. Mum and Dad before they were tortured, Mum and Dad when they were sane..
He cleared his throat, trying not to hope. "I think talking does help. We used to talk about it, back at home. Ron and I, we tried to make some sense of it. He lost his brother, in the war. Harry was just glad it was over, didn't want to dwell, but Ron and Hermione, they were good to talk to. And Hannah, and Ernie as well. Lavender..." He'd been able to find a lot more friends, after the war. They were all just so happy to be alive, the should have been Class of 1998. "Still didn't do enough to let me do my job. But I liked the greenhouses better anyway."