One scary thing was downplaying it significantly, and in a way that wasn't really fair. Noble had collapsed at the dinner table. He'd probably traumatized the girls (maybe Lestrange too, but Ford thought not; Lestrange seemed more difficult to traumatize). He could have died, and Ford had thought for a minute that he might — and he'd thought for a minute that he wanted to, which was almost worse. And Ford knew that he put too much on his brother, and he knew that he shouldn't have said I can't do this without you, he’d known that even before he’d seen the way Noble face twisted at the words, but he couldn't, and no matter what he said Noble didn't really seem to get it. If he'd understood, he wouldn't have looked so angry now.

"So what'll it be next time?" he asked, unsure at this point whether the anger in his voice was real or feigned. He was angry at Noble, but he also had the instinct to bend, to apologize. To offer amends until Noble looked a little less explosive. "Make yourself sick while you're supposed to be chaperoning one of the girls? Make a fool of yourself in public because you accidentally got yourself drunk? Get yourself addicted to something? Get yourself killed?"

A word popped into his head and Ford hesitated, wondering if it was a step too far, but then he said it anyway: "You're a liability."