Noble listened, although it didn't make sense — in a way it made sense, sure, because Ford obviously hadn't brewed this himself, and because Noble had been quietly wondering what happened during the snowstorm for weeks now. This didn't clarify much but it was something, and he rapped his knuckles against the workbench, twice, as if that would shake out more details. That's all I can say about it, and there was a time he would have pressed, but he wasn't sure he got to, anymore.

"Alright," Noble said, although he didn't like it, and maybe it was obvious in the line of his mouth. "If you have any other potions questions, ask me, alright?"

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