Hey guys! Here's the second chapter! I can't promise when the next one will be up because I'm still settling back into the routine of school, but I'll tryand get the next chapter up next week! Please review! or not. whatever floats your boat. (but reviews are awesome)

CHAPTER TWO: The One Where Harry Goes to Gringotts

AKA Who The Bloody Hell Is Tate Hawkins?

The first thing that Harry did was rent a room in The Leaky Cauldron and purchase the past few day's Daily Prophet. He had only had a slight bit of trouble acquiring the room because Tom, the barman, had stared at him for so long that he had become worried that he might resemble the child he had once been more than he had thought. It was only as he reached his door that he realized what the other man had been staring at; his tattoos had peeked out from under his collar to say hello.

His room wasn't exactly a luxury retreat but it would serve its purpose. He took out his possessions from his robes and, after enlarging his shrunken trunk, set wards around his room; now no one but him would be able to walk into the room. Once he was comfortable enough with when exactly he was he went to Gringotts to open up an account. There were a few key things that he had to set into motion as soon as possible.

As he walked down the streets of Diagon Alley he was momentarily taken aback by two things; one was that people just seemed to be carelessly walking around in the open day as if they hadn't a care in the world. He could see that no one was traveling alone and that they did rush quickly from store to store but the air was still so much clearer and happier than he remembered.

True, it had been over five years since he had actually been out in public but the last time that he had it had been, to put it lightly, horrible. Everything had been abandoned, buildings were no more than piles of rubble, the sky had been thick with smoke and death, and the occasional week-old body lying in the middle of the street was not an uncommon sight.

The second was that people still gave him a second glance. While no one stared at him with a trickle of hope or a glare of accusation in their eyes, they did blatantly stare at him with their eyes wide and filled with curiosity, and in some cases, tinged with fear. Yes, he thought, he was no longer the Potter boy that the world knew, he was a seasoned battle-ready powerful warrior.

He knew that he gave off an aura of power, knew that it had become even stronger than Dumbledore's had been after he had been through just a few years of training. When it had become too noticeable he had tried, unsuccessfully, to hide until Severus had finally managed to convince him that it was a strength of his; that it could be used in his favor and to help him. The main reason that Harry had been so adamant about cloaking his presence was because the aura that he gave off wasn't necessarily that of a wizard who was purely Light, though it wasn't entirely Dark. No matter how many times Sev swore up and down that his heart was still pure, the power that radiated off of him was, without a doubt, tinged with darkness. He had always assumed that Sev had been exaggerating when he said that he was so bad at reigning in his aura that he was able to sense him coming from a mile away, but as he saw wizards and witches alike stare at him he knew that, if anything, Sev had down played just how noticeable he was.

He continued on his way to Gringotts and couldn't help but frown as he entered into the main hall of the bank. He had little patience for goblins, his goblin mentor excluded of course, and he suspected that he would be given a hard time today. However, if everything went as planned then he would have an excuse to meet with the Albus of this time without having to boldly seek him out.

The Albus of his time had said that the best way to draw himself in was to let him approach you first. He had then proceeded to tell Harry his 'brilliant' idea: It would be hard to explain how he had a bank note with Albus Dumbledore's magical signature for an order of over a million galleons to be transferred into an account for Harry from one of Albus' back-up vaults that no one knew about except for the man himself. If Albus was anything it was careful, even if the real Dumbledore had drew up the note and his magical signature was on it, the bank would still contact him for authorization. Albus had told Harry that his past self would be intrigued as to how he had managed to forge such a bank note and how he knew about such a private account. It would undoubtedly catch his attention so Harry would not only make Dumbledore come to him, but would also have the chance to talk and make a deal with him.

Personally Harry thought that the whole idea was bonkers but, then again, he was sure that the old wizard knew himself better than anyone else so he was willing to risk it. His only trepidation had been that the Albus of this time probably wouldn't like him or trust him at first, he would have to play it carefully. Thankfully, after spending over a decade with the man, he knew what would catch his attention; and if Harry knew anything it was that the old wizard loved an intellectual conversation. Dreading his first meeting with Albus and looking forward to seeing his old mentor again caused Harry to have mixed emotions but he was careful to show nothing as he approached one of the goblin bank tellers with a blank face.

"I'm opening an account today. Tate Hawkins," Harry said briskly, pulling out the bank note and holding it out expectantly; it was always better to be straightforward when dealing with goblins. The goblin in front of him merely raised an eyebrow and snatched it out of his hands. As his beady eyes scanned over it his other eyebrow rose up to join the first one.

"A withdrawal for the amount of one million galleons from the Brian Lemondrops vault?" the goblin said, not bothering to hide the sneer in his voice. "Excuse me Mr. Hawkins, but I'll have to confirm this as it's a very high profile client's account that you are so eager to take from. Don't move," and with that the goblin hopped off of his high stool and disappeared through one of the many doors behind the tellers.

Harry bit back a sigh and looked around as there was nothing else to do. To the right of him, at the next teller over, was a sharply dressed wizard who was looking down his rather large bulbous nose at him. Harry met his disdainful stare head on and slowly let the corner of his lips turn up into a mockery of a smile. The wizard physically took a step back and then quickly looked away. Harry snorted in amusement; some people were all bark and no bite. It was no wonder Voldemort had had such an easy time taking over.

He heard the mismatched thumps of footsteps and looked over to see the goblin returning with another, more lavishly dressed goblin in tow.

"Mr. Hawkins, this is Stonemace. He will be handling your affairs," the goblin said in a snobbish tone while clambering back up into his chair and then promptly ignoring him.

Harry turned his attention to the other goblin and inclined his head slightly, "Stonemace."

"Mr. Hawkins, follow me, if you will," the goblin said and then set off at a brisk pace through a pair of dark oak doors.

Exactly four hundred and thirty six steps later, Harry had been purposely counting in his head, the goblin suddenly stopped and put his hand against the wall. If Harry hadn't already seen this done before, and didn't know exactly where they were, he might have raised an eyebrow when a door suddenly appeared on the wall. As it was, he was no stranger to the secrets and passages of Gringotts, having been trained in goblin magic in the tunnels deep down below the bank.

The door opened and Harry stepped inside of a large, lavishly decorated room with everything inside of it some form or color of gold. Goblins, Harry thought, all they care about is their gold.

The goblin sat behind a ridiculous pure gold desk, touched his fingertips together and looked over at Harry. Harry looked at the chair opposite of the goblin and mentally scoffed. Yes, he knew all about goblins and their dirty tricks. He knew that the second he were to sit into the chair he would be bound to it until Stonemace decided to free him.

Even if he hadn't know about the chair that the goblins had rightly nicknamed The Deal Maker because they kept the client there until they agreed to Stonemace's terms in a deal, he could see the chair giving off a dull purple glow.

"Mr. Hawkins, a seat if you will."

Harry quickly and wandlessly disabled the magic within the chair and, with little elegance, plopped himself down in it and gave Stonemace the biggest cheekiest smile he could manage. When nothing happened and the chair didn't bind the occupant in magical chains Harry saw the goblins eyes widened slightly. After a moment Stonemace awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Uh, Mr. Hawkins, uh, we have to check with the vault owner to verify if your claim is, ah, authentic. The Dumbledore's are a very old client and, well, we just don't want an, uh, misunderstanding."

Harry allowed his face to go blank as he stared at the goblin, "Of course, after all, it would be terrible if I were lying. You wouldn't want to offend anyone now would you, Stonemace?"

Stonemace shifted in his seat and drummed his long fingers on the desk. "Yes, well Mr. Dumbledore will be here momentarily to-" the rest of Stonemace's statement was cut off as a green light flashed behind Harry and the smell of Floo Powder filled the room.

Not bothering to turn around, it only took one guess to figure out who it was, Harry addressed the goblin, "Well Stonemace I believe that your presence in no longer required at the moment. Mr. Dumbledore and I have business to discuss, so if you'll take your leave I would be most grateful." Harry threw in a sickly sweet smile just for good measure.

Harry subtly twitched a finger and cast a tracking and cooling charm on the air that surrounded the goblin. The goblin shivered and stood up, clearly shocked at being dismissed from his own office, but nonetheless heading for the door. Just as he was about to step out he turned around with an eyebrow raised.

"I can assure you that I can find my way out without assistance," Harry said before the goblin had a chance to say anything. He saw the skepticism on the goblins face but then he inclined his head and with a mumbled 'Mr. Hawkins' he was out the door.

Only when Stonemace had left did Harry turn around to see his old friend, mentor, and jailor.

Albus Dumbledore considered himself a patient man, but after having to deal with the aftermath of the Ministry fiasco he found his patience wearing thin. He popped a lemon drop into his mouth and immediately felt better. He didn't just keep them around because they were delicious; calming potions went a long way. His fireplace suddenly roared green and to his mild surprise a goblin's head popped through.

"Hello there Master Goblin, how may I help you?" he asked coming around to kneel in front of the fireplace.

"Mr. Dumbledore, if it wouldn't be too much of an inconvenience, would it be possible for you to come to Gringotts to clear up a slight problem?" the goblin said his voice gruff and grating.

"May I ask to what this slight problem is?" he asked, it wasn't often that a Gringotts goblin admitted to having a problem and it was a first that he was needed there for something. A thousand different scenarios flashed through his mind as to what the problem could be and why he would be needed; it was best to suspect everything so as to not be surprised later after all.

"There has been a request for a withdrawal of precisely one million galleons from one of the Dumbledore vaults, specifically the one under the name of Brian Lemondrops. The gentleman has a bank note that contains your magical signature but it would be rash to accept it at face value. Gringotts is inquiring if you would come and personally approve or reject the transfer," the goblin said in a stoic voice.

Out of all of the scenarios that had been racing through his mind this had not been one of them. The person had to be crazy if they thought that they could take money from him, he didn't have a particularly large ego or anything, but even he would have to be obtuse not to realize the respect and awe that most of the wizarding world held him in. The fact that it was one of his private secret accounts caused a small frown to cross his face; no one knew about that account except for him. Whoever this mystery person was would definitely be worth a personal visit.

With a smile he told the goblin that he would be delighted to come and the goblin told him the address of the fireplace that would lead him to an office where the bank manager and the man was waiting for him. As soon as the goblin left Albus sent a note to Minerva to inform her that he would be leaving the castle for a while and that he wasn't sure when he would be back.

He turned his thoughts over to the mystery gentleman who was trying to transfer money from his account. Of all of the possible scenarios that he could think of there were only two prominent ones that he thought were most probable. One, the man was a dark wizard and it was a possible trap, though it didn't explain why they wouldn't use the Dumbledore account or how they even knew about the Lemondrops account.

The other possibility was that the person was some kind of long lost relative, which would explain how they might know about the vault; his father had set it up many a many decades ago and he might have told someone other than him. Either way he would have to be on his guard.

So with a smile he picked up the Floo Powder, shouted out the destination and stepped through into a lavish office room that looked like the color gold had waged a war against it. He had to admit that even for his extravagant style it was a bit much. Sitting behind a gold desk was the goblin manager, Stonemace, if he remembered correctly, looking rather pale.

Sitting slouched in the chair with his back to him was the wizard who he assumed was the one he was to meet. Albus could feel the magic that was pulsing off of the man, being over a century old had tuned his sensed so he could sense strong surges of magic, albeit they had to be really strong surges for him to sense, but the gentleman sitting in the chair was definitely powerful enough for him to feel it very clearly.

Albus frowned when he got a better feel for the man, even if he wasn't able to feel the man's magic he would have been able to tell that the man was strong, he felt the man's magic practically wash over him. As he felt it he felt a small tingle go down his spine; dark magic. Yes, the man was radiating with darkness and Albus felt grim at the thought that his first assumption had been correct; the wizard was intending to either trap or harm him.

"Well Stonemace I believe that you are no longer required at the moment. Mr. Dumbledore and I have business to discuss so if you'll take your leave I would be most grateful," a low melodic voice said breaking his train of thought.

Was the wizard ejecting the manager of Gringotts from his own office? For the first time since he had arrived, he really looked over at the manager goblin and saw that the poor goblin was almost shaking with fear.

"I can assure you that I can find my way out without assistance," the wizard said again as the goblin turned back around. With an almost submissive bow the goblin quickly left as though death were over his shoulder.

The wizard stood up from his chair and finally turned around to face him and it was only decades of surprises that stopped his eyes from widening. In his long life time Albus had seen every kind of person that there was, from the gangly awkward wizard to the Adonis-like wizard, however, this was a first for him. The wizard that was now in front of him was a walking contradiction.

The man, no young man, he didn't look much older than twenty-five, had long black hair streaked with burgundy that was pulled back into a band at the base of his neck. He had an easy open smile on his face that told whispers of friendship but could easily be turned around into a snarl if needed; his eyes were a bright liquid silver that radiated, they spoke tales of joy but behind that they screamed stories of death and destruction; his cheeks were hollow with proud high cheekbones and he had a sharp jaw line that dared someone to challenge him; his long fingers told that they could easily destroy a being but hinted at being capable of tenderness and kindness; his lean muscled body yelled of years of rigorous training but promised passion; he was tall but to some he would be considered average yet he held himself in such a way that made him seem twice as tall as he was.

However, it was his clothing, more than the man, that were so unique; the wizard wore a black, low-cut, form fitting muggle t-shirt with black soft-leather trousers and over that he had on a black robe that clung to his broad shoulders like a second skin and that opened up in the front, probably for easy movement; they could only be described as a type of battle robes.

He had on black dragon, no, some other material that he couldn't identify, knee high boots that had the handles of what he assumed to be knives sticking out of the tops of them; he had a belt of the same material around his waist that held daggers and what looked like small vials of various colored potions, shockingly none of which he immediately recognized. Around his neck were various necklaces of different sizes and colors, some with strange glyphs and runes inscribed on them and others in the shape of animals. One of his necklaces struck a faint chord in his memory; he took a second glance and decided it was more like a collar than a necklace; a silver, metal collar. He filed it away in his mind for later.

This was no ordinary wizard; this was a battle-hardened warrior. He could either be a dangerous enemy or a powerful ally; but the darkness that was rolling off of him was already giving Albus a clue as to which he was. The question was what was he doing trying to get money from him; his many knives probably cost a fortune by themselves and even he couldn't guess the price of his boots, not to mention that his robes were obviously tailored to him.

Realizing that he was inappropriately staring, Albus lifted his eyes up towards the wizard who was such a conundrum and saw that the man was smiling broadly at him, as if he had expected Albus to be staring at him.

Regaining his composure Albus gave a smile back to the young man, "Hello there, I'm Albus Dumbledore, and I must say I am intrigued how you managed to convince a goblin to leave you alone in his office… among other things."

The young man inclined his head. "Yes, well nosey beings are not wanted here at the moment as for the convincing part, it was only a matter of sitting down," he said giving a cheeky grin.

Wondering how sitting fitted into the equation, Albus waved his wand and conjured up a squishy chair in front of the young wizard and sat down, gesturing for the man to do the same on the one that he had been previously occupying; the wizard plopped down on the chair with a lack of grace that contradicted his appearance.

"I'm afraid I haven't caught your name my boy," he asked, wanting to decipher at least a small part of the man in front of him.

"That's because I haven't given it yet," the man said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

When it became clear that the man wasn't going to elaborate Albus decided to push a little more, "And may I enquire what your name is? After all it's not every day that someone tries to take money from one of my more hidden vaults, much less knows about it."

The man gave another smile and Albus couldn't help but wonder how someone could smile so easily and often and at the same time have such darkness radiating off of them; he was either an exceptional liar or he wasn't quite all there in the head, either one was dangerous.

"Hmmm. Names' are such peculiar things don't you think?" the man said sitting up, "Such power over a person you could have by merely knowing their name. It's a permanent thing your name, even if you change it. Were someone to call you by it you would still answer to it subconsciously. A name isn't just a title, it's a part of who you are, and when people learn your name your personality becomes a part of it. A name has its own magic; it can make you feel hate, sadness, love, and anything else that its owner would make you feel; just by hearing it. Yes, names are quite fascinating," the man said leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

The response to his simple question made him smile, it was a good answer, one that he would most likely give, but it didn't answer his question.

"Let's take your name for instance," the young man continued, "if you were to change your name to, oh, let's say Mark Pelligro. Would people call you by it? No, because you are Albus Dumbledore, your name is as much a part of you as your left foot is, without it you would be weakened. I sincerely doubt people would stand in awe of the great Mark Pelligro; in fact they might resent you for changing your name. Such a small detail could cause a riot, and it's your name not theirs."

Albus leaned back and sank into his chair; he couldn't keep the smile off of his face, this young man was not only powerful but he was intelligent and full of insight, an excellent person to have a long chat with on a rainy day; but also all the more dangerous.

"But then again if you were to change your name for protection, say your running away from someone or, I don't know, opening a vault you don't want people to know about," at this the wizard's eyes seemed to fill up with mirth, "then that's a different matter. A person could change so much from how they originally were that when they are given a new name it suits them just as well, if not better, than their old name. A person could essentially become a new person, no longer having the personality or traits that were once connected with their other name, essentially killing that part of them."

Albus wasn't sure if he should be delighted or horrified. It was absolutely delightful to know that another person thought of such trivial things and gave them such a deeper meaning, almost making it seem as if it were common sense; he knew he would be reflecting on this conversation and names for a while after this. He was horrified that the man had suddenly, and with apparent little effort, made him feel like he was a teenager again, it had been a long time since someone had presented such a conversation to him that he had not thought about and knew everything there was to know about it; and he was only talking about names! Yes, Albus suddenly felt like the young man in front of him was wise far beyond the years that he looked.

"But giving another name to something that is yours is different. It is not you that is being renamed, yet using your real name is out of the question. However, people choose a name that reminds them of themselves. Brian Lemondrops. Your love for the muggle sweet influenced the name and you even gave it part of your name; even the new name still suits you and your personality as you haven't changed to require a new name therefore a name that is like your original would make a perfect new one. Don't you think?" he asked, raising his eyebrow and tilting his head to the side.

It took a moment for Albus to realize that the wizard had stopped talking and for a moment he was unsure of what to say. Seeing that he wasn't about to respond the man continued on.

"Ah! A straight-to-the-point kind of man are we? Very well, I just need you to approve the withdrawal and then that should take of things. So, do I have your approval?"

The mention of the withdrawal reminded Albus of why he was even there, "I must ask you how you knew of my vault, no one is privy to that information except the goblins and I know for a fact that they wouldn't tell a soul." Once again the man smiled.

"I assure you that you are in no danger of anyone else knowing. Besides you, it is only little old me that knows about it."

"Still, I am quite interested in knowing how you discovered it, and how you managed to get my magical signature on the bank note," he asked, he couldn't figure out how the young man had done it, he knew for a fact that it was impossible to mimic a wizard's or witch's signature.

The young man once again smiled, "Magic," he said as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

Albus couldn't help it, he smiled. It was obvious that nothing he said would be able to get the man to give up any information that he didn't want to give up. Despite the warnings that were going off inside of his head that said that the young wizard was dangerous he couldn't help but feel that the man wouldn't hurt him, and if it was one thing he had learned the hard way, it was to trust his gut.

"Magic you say? Yes, that would explain it."

The man leaned back into his chair and placed his right ankle on his left knee. "So what's it going to be, Sir?" the man asked, although Albus could see that he already knew what the answer was going to be.

"I'm sorry Mr…" Albus paused; he still didn't know the man's name. The wizard's lips twitched up with barely concealed delight.

"Hawkins, sir. Tate Hawkins."

Albus mused over the name, something he had never really done before but after such an enlightening chat he couldn't help it. Tate Hawkins, it suited the man, it was simple, sharp, and as he said it in his mind it seemed to have a magic of his own. "Mr. Hawkins…" he began but was cut off.

"Tate. Just Tate, sir."

"Very well Tate, then I must request that you call me Albus."

"Albus," he said it like he was greeting an old friend, his voice filled with warmth.

Once again Albus was confused by the dark man in front of him.

"I have a proposition for you, Albus," he said, not even bothering to let him finish what he had started to say.

It was disconcerting that the young man, a child compared to him, seemed to be his elder without being condescending. The conversation was going nowhere that he could predict; usually he was the one who was in charge and knew what was going on and had the unintentional effect of making others feel inferior; Mr. Hawkins, Tate, was making him feel that way and apparently was not even realizing it. Albus felt oddly humbled.

"Go on."

"I had intended to apply for a position at your school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and if I could be assured of a job there, well one in particular, I would gladly rip up the banknote which is causing such mischief, what do you say?" Tate tilted his head to the side, a habit Albus noted he did when he was expecting an answer, and smiled again.

It was a reasonable request and with the new school term starting in just a month and him not being able to find a new DADA teacher it would be perfect, and Albus knew that would be the position that Tate would want. He would have happily accepted the offer, he could tell the man knew the Dark Arts, but it was because he knew that Tate knew them so well that he was hesitant. The constant vibe that his being was giving off wasn't helping either. Almost as if he was reading Albus' thoughts Tate frowned.

"I assure you that you have nothing to fear of me. It would be an honor to pass on my knowledge to a new generation. If you would like, and if you accept my offer, you could ask me any three questions that you want to know and I will answer them truthfully," Tate said, but Albus could see a darkness that filled the playful eyes, almost as if he pitied him.

It was a good deal Albus thought. Not only would he get a good DADA teacher but he would also get to solve a little bit of the mystery that was Tate Hawkins. On the other hand the man could be dangerous and he would be giving him free access to the school and the children. He focused on the pulses that Tate's magic was giving off; there was no doubt that it was dark, but the longer he focused on it the more confused he became.

Albus had met many dark wizards before and somehow Tate felt different. Though he couldn't quite put his finger on what was different. Evil. Yes, the young man was dark but he was not evil. There were no cruel or harmful feelings coming from him, it was almost like his darkness was light. Mr. Hawkins was becoming more and more interesting the longer Albus knew him.

Going with his gut, and praying that it was right, Albus stretched out his hand, "It seems that you have just acquired the honor of being the new DADA teacher at Hogwarts Mr. Hawkins." Albus decided to leave out the curse, what you didn't know couldn't hurt you. He watched as Tate's eyes seemed to light up as he grabbed his hand in a firm shake, "Thank you, Albus."

Albus noticed that he didn't ask how he knew what position he wanted.

"So, do you want to ask your questions now or shall we wait and set up a redundant meeting for some time in the future that would be a complete waste of time seeing as we both are already here and you are obvious itching to ask me," Tate said in a dry tone that reminded Albus eerily of Severus.

He hid the shock that he felt at how the young man had discerned that he was eager to learn more about him, though he supposed that it was probably obvious. With a smile Albus sat back in his chair and thought about what he wanted to ask. It was obvious that this would be the only time that he would be able to get a straight answer and it would be a shame if he were to waste a question on something silly. He saw Tate smile as he realized what he was doing; the man was certainly perceptive.

"Okay, I believe I know what I want to ask you." Tate gave a wave of his hand to signal him to go on.

"Is Tate Hawkins your real name?" he asked, there had to have been some reason behind the young man's speech on names. He was expecting the man to be shocked that he would ask such a question, for he was certain Tate wasn't his real name, or to be angry that he had figured it out; it was he who was in shock at his reaction and response.

Tate's eyes twinkled and he gave a sly grin, "Perceptive Albus, and Tate Hawkins is my real name."

Albus frowned, he had been certain it wasn't and it was a rarity that he was wrong about such things. Before Albus could contemplate the answer any further Tate spoke again.

"But Tate Hawkins is not my given name. I have many real names."

Albus nodded and pondered the man's answer. Even now his responses still required thought, how uninformative. For a moment Albus thought about asking what his given name was but went against it, obviously the man wasn't using that name for a reason and it would not do to ask such a question if he wanted to get the man to like him, besides, he had more important questions to ask.

"Are you, will you, or have you ever been a follower or supporter of Voldemort?" Albus noted that the man didn't flinch at his use of Voldemort's name and couldn't tell if that was a good thing or not.

Tate smiled again, "Hmmm, getting crafty there Albus. There's more than one question crammed in there." Albus hid his surprise again; most people wouldn't have picked up on such an obvious detail.

"But I'm feeling exceptionally generous today so I'll answer your multiple-one question. I have never followed or supported Voldemort and I am not currently following or supporting him. In fact, I find the man, and I use that word loosely, to be a hypocrite and not quite all there in the head."

Albus smiled, Tate obviously wasn't a follower of Riddle, no follower would dare use his name, but the fact that he used the word 'man' loosely must mean that he had to have seen Voldemort since his resurrection to know what his appearance looked like. It was not general knowledge that he wasn't exactly human-like. If he hadn't been so sure that Tate wasn't a follower he would have terminated the deal immediately.

"As for the future I can tell you that it would take only the direst of circumstances to make me willingly follow him."

Albus thought about the young man's response, he hadn't exactly said no but he had said that he wouldn't willingly and that was good enough for him. He thought long about what his last question would be and to his delight Tate let him ponder in silence. It seemed the younger generations were always itching to fill the silence or unable to sit still for more than a few moments, and while he adored his students with all of his heart it was comforting to sit next to a person who was comfortable in silence; especially since said person didn't seem that old.

"Why do you want to be the DADA teacher at Hogwarts?" Tate didn't answer right away and Albus could tell that he was considering carefully how to answer.

"Hogwarts and I are old friends and it would be…peaceful…to be with her again," Tate said his eyes glossing over.

Albus pondered this sentiment; surely he would have known if the boy had gone to Hogwarts before, he would have most definitely taken notice of someone who had such potential and power to be either a dark lord or a leader of the light. But there was something about the way he was talking about Hogwarts, as if the school were a being. Albus had long thought of the school as a sentient but he had never been successful with connecting with it.

"And as I said before it would also be a pleasure to pass on my knowledge to the children, I would be honored if I could help them defend themselves for when they enter the real world and…" and for the first time since Albus had met Tate he seemed to be unsure of himself. He let out a sigh and a rueful smile, "And I'll admit I have ulterior motives."

There, thought Albus, that was what he had been hoping wasn't the answer. Although he had to wonder why he would admit to it if he knew that Albus would take back his acceptance, and Albus had no doubt that Tate could tell what he was thinking. He frowned but the smile that Tate was still wearing made him pause.

"I once again assure you Albus that my motives are pure. I have no intentions of putting anyone in harm and no one shall. My motives, while purely selfish, only affect me and will cause no difference to anyone else if something were to go wrong. Rest assured Albus that I am after no revenge, no mission to hurt or take advantage of anyone, and am not after any power or secret, I am no danger to your school or to the students," Tate said and gave a small smile.

Albus prided himself on being able to tell people's emotions and while he had been having an absurdly difficult time pinning Tate's today the sincerity in his eyes seemed to shine out.

"Very well Tate, but I am sure that you understand why I chose such questions?"

"Of course! I would worried if you asked me a question like 'What is my shoe size?' I would have to rethink my choice of occupation then," Tate said, his cheeky grin appearing once again.

Albus smiled back but inside his thoughts were conflicting. He truly believed that the young wizards was not a dark wizard and had no intentions of harming anyone but the dark light, as Albus now thought of it as, couldn't be ignored. It was clear that the man, if needed, would not hesitate in attacking and possibly killing. Even if he wasn't dressed like a warrior the look in his eyes, the look of no mercy that was hidden behind the easy going intelligence, would have been proof enough.

Then there was the fact that Tate looked so young yet made remarks like he had lived a life full of joy and happiness. The sudden change that the man could make from a smile to a blank mask was astounding and he knew of only one other person who could hide their emotions like that, and not even as well; and Severus had not led a happy life full of sunshine and daisies. The man had probably seen death for a long time, how he seemed to be so full of life just added to the mystery that was his new DADA professor. He absently wondered if Tate and Severus would get along.

"Well Tate, it has been a pleasure to meet with you and I look forward to seeing you again. I will owl you with the dates for the staff meetings that are held before school starts. Although you have missed most of them, I think that there is one more left. Also you will need to compile at least an outline of your course plans that you will be teaching to each year at least through December which you will present at the staff meeting. I'm sure that I've forgotten most of what you need to know, but it will all be in the owl. And where am I to send it?" Tate quickly scribbled down the address and room number for the Leaky Cauldron and handed it to him.

"Very good, well I think that just about covers everything. If you will pardon me I must return to my school, I have quite a lot to do before the day's end. Good day to you Mr. Hawkins," Albus said as he rose from his chair and waved his wand to make it disappear.

He walked over to the fireplace and was just about to grab the Floo Powder when Tate said his name. He turned around to see that Tate was now standing up and looking straight at him; his face was blank and his eyes were drilling into Albus' with such coldness that he almost wanted to shiver. This was that dark coming out.

"Make no mistake that just because I said I am not a threat that I pose no danger Albus. If I am to be a teacher at Hogwarts the students must know not to try and best me for I do not take to being surprised as others do. I am not ashamed to say that I attack first and ask questions later. If I feel that I am being threatened in any way, be it by a student or a fellow teacher, I will not hesitate to do what I feel is necessary. I am not a wizard to be taken lightly and it is a small matter for me to kill, by accident or intentionally. You would do well to inform the staff and the students. I will not hold myself accountable if I injure someone. I am not a light wizard by any means, as I am sure you are aware of. Do not expect me to be one Albus," Tate said his voice low and dangerous.

If Albus had any doubts before that Tate was not dangerous they were quickly extinguished. This was a person that even he did not want to get on the bad side of.

"I never had any intention of taking you lightly Tate. Have a good day my boy," he said before he called out his office at Hogwarts and stepped into the fireplace. He had a lot of thinking to do.

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