The door to the chairman's office on the top floor of Gringotts in Frankfurt, Germany, was knocked on—so loudly it was almost rude.
"Come in..." Yarma, the goblin chairman seated behind the broad desk, answered, only to realize the door had already been opened before he spoke.
A tall fat man in the uniform of a senior German Ministry of Magic official strode in as if he owned the place. His uniform looked privately tailored, and from some of the accessories on it, the goblin Yarma could easily tell that it could even be called extravagantly luxurious.
The fat man sat directly in the chair in front of the goblin and also began sizing Yarma up. The chairman's suit was even neater than that of the German Ministry of Magic official before him. After all, even by goblin standards, Yarma could be called thin, which gave him a pale face that looked intelligent—the result of spending years in offices that never saw sunlight. Against his complexion and spotless white shirt, the neatly combed center part on his head and the handlebar mustache over his mouth looked even blacker.
"Please wait a moment, Mr. Goring. I'll finish writing this reply very soon." Yarma shook his pointed mustache. His especially long hand held a quill, moving quickly across the paper.
"No hurry. I have no other plans tonight." Herman stood up directly, walked over by himself to the storage cabinet in the office, pulled out a bottle of beer, and started drinking. His eyes, however, furtively noticed the emblem on the goblin's letter paper: an eagle with outspread wings, its body shaped from the Stars and Stripes. It was the insignia of MACUSA.
At last, the goblin sealed the envelope and casually placed it into a pipe that extended up from the