When Isabelle's ghostly form had cleared the hallway and Ford first got a look at who it was she had been screeching at, he thought they might have fallen. His heart skipped a beat as he wondered if they were hurt, both because he disliked anyone being hurt and because if Isabelle had injured someone it was likely to put a bad mark on his work record, because he was responsible for Isabelle (even if he was sure it was someone on Magical Maintenance who kept letting her out — her room looked like a broom closet from the outside and although he'd put numerous signs up he wasn't sure whether they all knew how to read). He realized on his second glance that it was only Miss Vane, however — she was always that height, because of the chair. He didn't know Miss Vane personally, but had seen her around at the Ministry. It was difficult not to notice her, given the... well.

"No, I'm sure she started it," he said with a sympathetic nod, as he bent to collect whatever papers Miss Vane had dropped. "She does that, pop out and scream at people. That's why she's here with us and not at her cottage in Shropshire," he explained. Isabelle had lived in Shropshire some hundred years ago, as best as they could tell, and she had been there ever since her death. For the majority of that time she had been quite harmless, and technically she still was (ghosts had very little recourse if they wanted to cause harm, being non-corporeal). She had, however, taken to shrieking instead of talking about two years ago after some upset that they had yet to determine. Since then, she had been living in a small room in the Spirit Division. Rehabilitating her was Ford's pet project — but it was not exactly going well.

"You didn't happen to see exactly which room she went in to, did you?" he asked.