"I can see that," he said.  He studied the party and the milling guests, and took a long drink from the beer in his hand.  He'd arrived late and the festivities had been going on for over an hour by the time he got a drink and found her standing outside the worst of the fray.  She suspected he'd been waylaid by people who wanted to be able to say that'd talked to The Boy Who Lived.  That happened to him a lot, even now, years after the war.  "You look less dead."