Ford looked up at the suggestion, surprised. "You could?" he asked, eyebrows raised. He pushed himself up off of the wardrobe and immediately felt a little more at ease. At least some of the panic had been the dementor, then. He'd probably set back his progress in starving it out by at least a month with that little internal anxiety attack, but there was nothing to be done about it now. The dementor was still locked in the wardrobe, and there was — maybe — a way to hide it, so not all was lost.

"I'm not — trying to act like anything," he explained quickly, feeling flustered. He really hadn't meant to be... impolite, he supposed. What to say to a werewolf you meet in the Forbidden Forest at ten minutes to moonlight had not been covered in Hogwarts etiquette classes. It was clear that his reaction had an impact on the other man, though, and Ford did regret that. He just also didn't really have time to deal with it, so hopefully this fellow wasn't particularly emotionally fragile, or anything. "It's just — it's dangerous. The wardrobe. You can't touch it."