Ford nodded at the comment about the score, but was relieved when Lestrange changed the subject. He didn't really know much about Quidditch (as he had admitted, mortifyingly in retrospect, to Dorian Fisk), so he didn't trust that he could get through a conversation of any length on the subject while maintaining the vague notion that he understood anything about it. He also wasn't sure, given how things had transpired with Fisk, that he could get through a conversation on the subject of Quidditch without blushing — which would look pretty stupid, since normally when people talked about Quidditch they were actually talking about Quidditch, not about — whatever else had been lurking in the subtext of that conversation.

Dinner parties, though, were safe territory all around. A staff member approached the table, and Ford asked for wine before turning his attention back to Lestrange. "Yeah, they're — well, as good as you can expect dinner parties to be, probably," he said with an affable shrug. "A dozen people, only three or four of whom you really know well enough to carry a conversation with, and too much food. I suppose it serves a purpose, but no one's come by with a proposal for Verity yet, so," he said, with another shrug. He'd slipped into this casual conversation about getting his sisters married too easily, he realized once the words were out of his mouth. He was comfortable in this conversation, so he'd just followed the same pattern he'd developed in talking to Noble — but Lestrange was not his brother, and he wouldn't get it. From his perspective, it probably seemed as though Ford was callous, talking like that — like he didn't care about his sister's happiness at all, only about nudging them out the door faster.

"My sister's eager to marry," he said by way of explanation, hoping this would take the edge off of how blase he sounded in discussing her lack of current suitors.