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A thoroughly clever, remarkable young man and no less talented wizard, as Dumbledore had been able to observe in recent weeks, Hunter was, however, someone who should dare to do much more instead of wasting his talents senselessly on petty-criminal scams.

A young man could not live exclusively by fleecing other people and thinking he could get away with it in the near future. At some point the day would come when the previous luck would say goodbye and turn against him. What will be left then? Nothing. Maybe not nothing but as good as nothing.

"I see you're still busy ripping people off in bars Hunter," visibly disappointed, Dumbledore sat down at the table with Hunter, sighing as he took the deck of cards in his fingers and then looked over at the young wizard, "Doesn't it get old after a while?"

"No, quite the opposite. Some of the people and also wizards, witches are so stupid that is already easy again and these do not want it any other way than to be fooled," Hunter laughed and pointed to the deck of cards in the hands of the future principal to show him what it is actually about and behind it, "What can I do for you professor? You certainly didn't drop by for a drink."

"Prove to you that you're capable of more than what you've been up to for the past few weeks," with a slight snort, Dumbledore let his index finger circle, but this only made Hunter chuckle, "What's so amusing about that? There's more to everyone than what they pretend to be. What was your..... becomes.... anyway. Which subject excited you the most and which one were you most talented in?"

"Come on Dumbledore, you don't want that answered. Let's just say I was excellent as a beater and good at 'Defense Against the Dark Arts' as well as 'Wizardry' but who cares what was one at school please?" to become an Auror, it was all enough after that as certain grades were right and all other grades, had been relatively secondary at Hunter's interview, "It will make things a lot easier if you just tell me what you want so I can decline with thanks."

"I'd like to introduce you to one of my former students who I think could use a wee bit of help from someone who has some experience with more specialized groupings," if Dumbledore could say that, for he continued to be unaware of the circles Hunter and his girlfriend Gillian were in, "His name is Newt Scamander and once he arrives in Paris, there's a case that things could get awkward."

"Scamander? As in the jerk who wrote the book on Animal Beings?" laughed Hunter until he realized that Dumbledore was talking about that very man, "Oh, it's the same jerk. Well bravo. Sorry Professor, but I'd better pass. Thanks but I decline, gratefully. I'm not a babysitter and I'll be honest with you about that. If Scamander were to stand in my way, or get in the way of me doing whatever, I'd kill him or let him die. Especially since I've heard that his talents are mostly related to beasties than to defending himself in a pinch. You want your boy back intact in one piece knowledge. With me, so far, it hasn't mattered how the witch or spell is delivered, alive, dead, or a wee bit twisted in the head, as it doesn't matter with black magicians. Short trial. The boy is a loser, so I don't want to be responsible for him, his life or his state of mind. Sorry professor to disappoint you."

If the worst came to the worst, he was merely to be helped. Nothing more, nothing less.

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