Stephen didn't recognize the young man, which these days there was almost a fifty/fifty chance he knew the customers from his years at Hogwarts. Still, though he could not place his face to any particular name or situation he couldn't help but feel his heart thrumming madly under his ribs anxiously as if he did know this man from somewhere
Or, perhaps, you are meant to know him.
Meant to. He'd been toying with fate philosophies a lot lately and that had become a sort of mantra no matter what situation he faced: whatever was going to happen was going to happen.
The stare he received was not at all unusual. Several customers entered the shop in a similar fashion. They mostly looked sad, or overly anxious, or uncertain to the point of madness. They came for answers and 'why' was a very common question. Stephen's smile returned briefly and he stood straight.
"I'm sure we can find out. What are you questioning, exactly?"