"Perhaps. I suppose it depends on what was done to the sorry little blighters."

But Xeno smiles pleasantly enough, bright and sudden, rising up to his knees and pushing his hair back from his face so as to acknowledge the presence of another, holding awkward the weeding tool. "You come here at night, I think. It's a nice place, you should give my regards to the management. My name is Xenophilius Lovegood."