Of course Ford remembered that today was the anniversary of the dementor incident. He might have forgotten the exact date, except that he'd thought about it a few weeks ago and started worrying about Cash and done the math to find out when the anniversary was. If there was something significant about this time of year or this particular date that had sparked the dementor in the first place, it might mean that Cash was particularly vulnerable now. He seemed to be doing better, in general, but that didn't mean he was really better, or that he couldn't slip back into how he'd been feeling a year ago. They hadn't ever talked about exactly when Swan had died. Four years ago last year, five years ago now, but Ford didn't know the date. What if today was the anniversary of that, too?

So he'd been keeping an eye on Cash throughout the evening, but so far he hadn't seen any signs that something was amiss. Certainly no dementors hanging around in the corners of the room.

"I hope this is a hypothetical and not a request for practical advice, because I don't think I'm very good at it," he replied with a shrug. Most of the bad news that he delivered fell under the umbrella of things they couldn't afford, and his way of delivering it was mostly to just not. Sometimes the girls forgot they'd asked for things if he put them off long enough, or they changed their minds and wanted something else. Sometimes he just kept making excuses until his next paycheck came through. "Look at this one — her hand is a different shade than her face. That's a sign they used face paint to make her look pale," he said. "They forgot to paint her hand. Probably didn't think it would be in the picture."

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