Ford took a breath. He couldn't really speak to that, without knowing the girl and more about how Noble felt about her, but he didn't get the impression that his brother was really looking for his commentary on that bit. Noble wouldn't want to hear him hypothesize about whether this thing that was over might or might not have worked, but Ford wasn't sure what he did want to hear. If it had really been over for more than a year, why bring it up now unless there was something he wanted to talk about? He wondered why Noble had brought it up at all, but he couldn't ask. The obvious answer was because Ford had just told him he could, though he hadn't been expecting this. He was worried, too, that if he asked it would come out as though he wished Noble hadn't said anything, which — maybe. Ford had meant what he'd said a moment ago about wanting to know, so that he could have all of the pieces in front of him when he was trying to figure out how he was going to steer them all through this mess, but — this was heavier than he'd been expecting. He could feel the weight of it settle on his shoulders.

Maybe there wasn't anything Noble wanted him to say. Maybe he'd just been carrying it around too long by himself and he didn't want to hold it in any more. If that was the case, Ford couldn't blame him. And it was healthier than pushing it down for several more years and then maybe creating a dementor in his bedroom someday.

Ford managed to look up at Noble's face before he responded, but he felt like it was tenuous; he wasn't sure he could keep his features composed long enough to hold this if they were going to actually talk about this. "Do you want to... talk about her?"