Ten in the morning. Goblin Office, Being Division.


Granok, head of the Goblin Office, was not pleased with him. Fortunately, Virgil was accustomed to people not being pleased with him.

The goblin glowered from across the desk. It was an open office but Granok's desk was by far the most impressive - it was sequestered from the other work areas by a curved row of towering filing cabinets above which a constant flow of winged memos lazily circled. Granok himself looked like he was made of parchment, with his papery skin and long white hair.

He was old even for a goblin, this V knew from Ministry gossip.

       "You understand," continued Granok, "That, officially, the Ministry does not acknowledge the existence of Craeky Hob."

Officially, the Ministry didn't recognise a lot of things.

"I'm starting to get the gist of that, yes..." Virgil muttered tiredly, gesturing with his handless arm.
       "Good," sniffed the goblin as he reached for a quill. "Then you also understand we cannot act in any official capacity."

It turned out that a surname like Carstairs could only get a wizard so far. But for all he knew, it was the only reason he wasn't laughed out of here the moment he stepped foot in the office. Virgil had managed some sleep since talking to Cassie Morrow[1] and then he'd come straight to Four after reassuring Mysteries he was alive.

Granok had not been impressed by his and Natalie's tale - nor was he fazed by the lopped off hand or the fae-mark business.

       "We will counsel you and your companion's Tethered," he scribbled something down on a paper slip. "Goblin law is not to be trifled with, young wix."

Virgil accepted the slip and gave it a quick read. It was a request slip for the Ministry Library - listing several titles, one of them in Gobbledegook.

"Thank you," he nodded. "I appreciate it."
       "Mm." Granok grunted once, shaking his head. "We will see what good it will do you."

That sounded like a dismissal, and V got to his feet as he pocketed the slip. "I was wondering, actually..."

The goblin gave him a hard look. Virgil cleared his throat, undeterred.

"Might I get a message down to my friend? Please?" he tried to sound as deferential as he could. "Underthames told me I can't go back to Cheapstowe until the trial, you see."

Granok sighed heavily and reached for his quill again.

1.	14th April - Mother's Words Made Scavenging Birds