Eric buried himself in his work. It was simple enough – the goblins were even open to his using magic. However, he thought better of it, and turned to Willy to provide any magical support in the project. The elf's efforts on his behalf wouldn't actually be breaking the limits set on him by the Ministry of Magic, though there was no doubt he was bending them considerably. He did notice that some of the patrons of the bank were glancing at him curiously. If the clerks paid him any mind, he didn't notice.

This, however, came to an end at the second week when, as he was about to enter his shop, he found his path was being blocked by a heavyset woman with an annoyingly false expression of courtesy. "Hem! Mister Eric Sable? I'm Dolores Umbridge."

Eric was overcome with the sensation of having stepped in something extremely nasty. "Yes, I know. You had visited my shop last year."

She blushed very slightly. The visit was a blighted mark for the Ministry; one which spread vast rumors across Diagon Alley about abuses of authority. "Hem hem. Well, yes, I was assisting Minister Fudge with a minor matter. This evening, another matter brings me here. May I visit with you for a while?"

Eric turned the key to the shop door. "Actually, I've had a full day of work and am looking forward to a quiet supper."

Dolores abruptly placed herself in front of Eric and moved into the store. "It's about your work that I wish to speak with you. This will only take a moment." She swept her way to Eric's parlor, impressively fast for a woman of her girth.

Eric moved to the kitchen and prepared a glass of lemonade. Stepping back to the parlor, he looked at his unwanted visitor. "Won't you come in, please? Oh, and make yourself comfortable."

She began scribbling on a clipboard, mumbling quite loudly. "Interview begins with subject making sarcastic remarks." Eric didn't mind – he earned that deliberately. "Now, Mister Sable. I understand that you are currently working for, well, a collection of creatures. Is that correct?"

Eric counted silently to three. "Actually, I've been commissioned to perform some maintenance for Gringotts."

"Subject does not appear to be aware of the nature of his clients." She paused from her scribbling and continued. "You are a student of Hogwarts. Do you know what a magical creature is?"

This time he counted to five. "An animal or being which exhibits abilities or traits of an extraordinary nature." He felt that he should explain himself further, but he could hear Clareone's words in his head: "A visit from the Ministry of Magic is always a trial, with you as the defendant. Every question is an accusation – never tell them more than what they ask for."

"Hem. You seem to know your definitions. However, you seem reluctant to call goblins 'creatures'."

Eric probably should have waited, but the reply was too easy. "I wouldn't call the guardians of Diagon Alley's wealth anything that might offend them."

Dolores set her clipboard down. "Ah, I see. You do, however, agree that they are in fact creatures."

Eric was back to counting to five. "You may call them whatever you wish. For me, it is most profitable to consider them clients."

She picked up her clipboard again. "Subject chooses to be evasive and difficult in his responses." She adjusted her glasses. "Mister Sable: are you aware of the complications your work may have on the relationships between the wizarding community and the magical creatures it deals with?"

"The only damage I can do is by upsetting my customers." Eric could feel the heat rising in his neck. He knew this was a bad sign and he wanted it to stop, but the overbearing witch was getting on his nerves.

"Hem hem. Yes, on the surface it might seem that way – but how does it look when a wizard does menial work for a creature? Would you, say, build a wardrobe for a flobberworm?"

Eric grinned. "Only if he paid in cash."

"Subject does not take inquiries seriously." She puffed herself up in her chair. "Mister Sable – you must understand that wizards need to take a superior role in the world around them. We can't be seen to be giving ground to the creatures we deal with. Do you understand?"

Eric did manage a three-count before responding. "Firstly, I am quite serious – any flobberworm that can manage to collect five to ten galleons and make the request may have a wardrobe built for it. I don't discriminate against my customers. Second, I don't understand how performing the same services I give to anyone with the money to pay can cause problems. I would think the reverse is far more harmful."

"Well, let me put it plainly. We need to be sure that these things understand that they work for us; period. Allowing you to perform any work for them weakens that position. Therefore - you are not to continue your work at Gringotts. You are not to accept any more commissions from any beings other than true witches or wizards. Is that clear?"

Eric was too furious to hold his words any longer. "Ms. Umbridge, I took a commission to do my best work. My pay is considerable and I'm not violating any laws or rules. I can't back out even if I wanted to, which I don't." He paused for a moment to down the lemonade. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm tired and I need my dinner."

She stood up violently. "Of all the impertinence! I can see that no one has taught you respect or has given you proper discipline!"

Eric turned to her, completely exhausted of manner. "You know, I don't give a rat's whisker what you think. This is my shop and my home. Now, are you going to leave on your own, or not?"

Dolores puffed up proudly. "Do you really think you could force me out?"

Eric smiled sinisterly. "Probably not. Your abilities are likely greater than mine, and you're far too heavy for me to hoist you out." Eric chuckled as she turned purple from the insult. "Now, Willy here, he's charged with caring for my safety and well being; and if he thought that you were a threat to me in any way..."

Finding herself staring at a black-clad house elf – his great eyes glaring at her and his hands flexing to cast her across the street – she chose a wiser course and left the shop. "You haven't heard the last of this, Eric Sable!"

As Willy magic'd the door shut, Eric slumped onto a stool in the kitchen. "I'm sure I haven't."