Ford was too distracted by Noble's predicament to pay any mind to what Verity and Lestrange were doing on the other side of the table, or even to care that his mother had called him ducky. His mother's question about Noble possibly being unwell sent a jolt of panic through him, because it implied that this might have been more of an ongoing issue than just a strange happening at the most inconvenient juncture. Was Noble sick? He hadn't said anything to Ford about it, but would he have? Ford would have hoped so, but maybe not. Maybe he thought Ford had enough to worry about, and maybe he was trying to deal with it on his own.

"I don't know. I don't know," he said a little desperately. His mother's spell hit the air and Ford immediately moved to cover his nose and mouth with the edge of his sleeve, because it was so strong that Ford thought he might pass out if he got too much of it, and that wasn't going to help anyone.

"Let's get a healer," he decided. They couldn't afford that, but that was a problem for Ford to deal with sometime in the future, sometime when Noble wasn't unconscious and maybe dying.