Approx. 9.30am
Office of Yavin Morgenthau, Department of Mysteries.


"Time difference isn't, ah, isn't too bad is it?"Yavin asked as he watched Virgil Carstairs drop into a seat across the desk, lanky limbs splayed out.

It had been over half a year since he last set eyes on the boy, and the time away had lent him an air of cynicism. Virgil was in town for a week, under the pretense of being called back on urgent Death Chamber business. That would pique Hawthorne's interest upon his return.

Yav thought it a neat arrangement.

       "Only a problem when I'm trying to - nothing important  - fall asleep at a sane hour..." Virgil muttered over his coffee.

"Sleepy boy," he echoed Angela's nickname for her son. "Anything I should know that you haven't put in here?"

Yavin tapped the folder in front of him. They had agreed to minimise contact over the year, a full report only to be given in-person today. But the young Unspeakable wasn't one to embellish written work and, in this case, embellishment might help.

       "You want to know how big he is? How he likes it?" the younger wizard drawled and then, less sarcastically: "I think Five is on to us, actually. Cousin Silas warned[1] me off Hawthorne."

There were Carstairs just about everywhere, getting in the woodwork, apparently. Yavin was vaguely familiar with Silas and could just about imagine how that went down.

He smiled dryly as he opened the folder to give the report a skim. "Hm. Tell me if, ah, if they give you any trouble."

1.	21st July 2017 - A Different Kind of Thing Now

Virgil watched on as his mentor flipped through page after page of his neatly printed cypher.

He felt restless after a while, looked around the room instead to see if anything had changed since he left. Not really. It was unlike the rest of the department - all white, like Eldritch & Profane's HQ in New York. Yavin probably liked how everyone and everything stood out in stark contrast.

       "Seems sure we've, ah, we're got a mole on his side," the older man commented and V turned away from the skeletons in their Hawaiian shirts.

"Maybe. I think... I think he's paranoid?" V bit his lower lip, frowning. "Like, from I've gleaned of the others. He's really trying to get a lockdown on these projects. Nobody in, nobody out. All sorts of fucked up mind games."

He had put into writing what went down with Cyrus at The Pit[1] and summarised similar incidents described by visiting Unspeakables from other countries. He wasn't the only one being tested.

They were using a Devereux contact as their insider, someone whose identity even Virgil wasn't allowed to know. As long as Hawthorne was still digging where V could see, their insider was likely safe.

       "Do you think he can, hm, think he can be turned?"
"I don't know..." Virgil sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I mean, fuck, you know him better."
       "You said he's at loggerheads with, hah, with Flores."

That was true. V fell quiet, thinking on this.

Cyrus was intense but he had muggle grandparents, soft spot for a muggleborn dad he used to hate. He relied on people in CAWW to retain his position but he wasn't a CAWW pawn the way Augustina Flores was.

Hawthorne didn't like to think of himself as being in anyone's pocket. Virgil had a good read on the man, between what Yavin told him and his own experiences.

1.	17th June 2017 - Listen More Than You Think

"Maybe," he said after a heavy silence. "They're in research limbo. I don't think it's real to Cyrus, what might happen. Even if we can't get him on our side, I bet he would turn a blind eye. At the right place or time."

Yavin closed the folder, wearing a thoughtful look. "Figure out who, ah, who's got him by the balls in CAWW," he suggested. "He'll be touchy about it. You could bait him."

Could. Yes. Virgil finished his coffee and balanced the paper cup on his knee.

"You want me to try?" he asked the question he didn't want to ask. "Push him? Make him an offer if it works?"

It came out with a bite. Virgil wasn't enjoying this anymore. He stopped enjoying it when he saw those photos on Silas' phone - like looking at a stranger he couldn't save.

      "... you don't have to," Yavin replied after a pause. "We can, hm, we can figure somet--"
"You can't," V interjected before he could stop himself.

Realistically, he was already better placed than anybody else. Yavin had wanted him in Cyrus Hawthorne's bed and calling this off now would just be favouritism, wouldn't it?  Virgil didn't want to be an exception, or to be handled with kid gloves. He wanted to prove himself.

"I'll do it, nevermind," he confirmed and got up, catching the coffee cup before it fell.

His mentor was smiling a little. "Cyrus isn't, ah, isn't so bad is he? Your type, I thought."

"Would be," Virgil turned to leave, flashing him a dry smile. "Except it feels a bit like he's fucking you. Vicariously."

Every interaction with Hawthorne was shadowed by what Yavin meant to Cyrus and the power trip Cyrus got off it. The Department Head laughed. It was always nice, being able to make him laugh. But V didn't find this joke all that funny.