"Very good," Morgan said approvingly. He added a few more lines to the parchment before tearing the bottom portion off and handing it to Miles. "The longer you're here, the more it'll look as though you've got something to hide... not that you do, of course." Not that he was advocating breaking the law, but Miles couldn't help what his father had done; and Morgan had a low opinion of the Ministry's idea of fairness and intelligence in the first place. It wasn't as though his cousin were an actual criminal, he told himself, so it wasn't really anything but a white lie, and who didn't tell those.
"That address is my parents', by the way," he added. Doodling on what was left of his paper suddenly seemed more entertaining than maintaining eye contact. "I know you said you weren't keen on seeing anyone, but if you change your mind. I'm sure Dad would want to hear from you, or give you anything you might need. I would have offered you a place to stay already, but my place is... a bit of a mess, I'm afraid." That and he'd need special dispensation from the Ministry to house another, non-infected human; they'd probably manage to squeeze another bag of Galleons for it, too.