Characters: Nate Dawlish and Brad Madley (SHUSH they talk in my head anyway)
Setting: MoM, Wednesday afternoon.
Summary: Nate's got a few questions for Brad…
Rating: PG.

Nate scanned the folder open on his desk once more before leaning back in his chair and giving his good stare, the one that meant he was deep in thought but still very much aware of his surroundings, as he watched the boy slip into his office and find his way to the only chair that was open, right in front of his desk. It wasn't a very comfortable seat, but it was nowhere as painful as the boy was making it look.

Nate was glad he had his own office, this was definitely one of the reasons why, it was way more intimidating than a little cubicle, where you could distract yourself by looking elsewhere. Nate didn't have anything on his walls and yes he had stacks of paper, but unless the boy wanted to count the numbers of files, he would just have to look at Nate. And once Brad made eye contact, Nate sat back in his chair, his fingers linked together over his stomach.

"Why do you want to be an Auror, Brad?" Nate asked, glad to see the kid didn't jump, he looked like a twitchy sort of fellow, and that was why they hadn't accepted him. Yet. Nate was this kid's champion, he could see himself in that seat, ten years ago. Not exactly, because he had been nowhere near that gawky or awkward looking, but when Brad looked at him, Nate was glad to see a fire burning behind his eyes. Something about this kid's story was bugging Nate, and he wanted to find out for himself. They really didn't do interviews for training, but since there had been a very small number of applicants (read four) and only had accepted one of them so far… Nate wasn't going to throw away a chance at a good auror because of his looks.

The boy swallowed and fiddled his hands together, looking down at his lap like he was trying to come up with the words. Nate twisted his chair just right so it squeaked, and the boy looked up with a faintly annoyed look on his face. "Its an easy question. You sat for the tests and sent your application in. Why?"

Brad set his jaw and let out a breath through his nose before leaning forward and placing his hands on Nate's desk, "I want to fight."

Nate waited a moment – he truly believed that the kid meant that, the truth was there in his eyes, but he couldn't let him off the hook that easy. So Nate threw back his head and laughed, motioning to the door, "That's all? You can leave then."

He raised his eyebrow as Brad stood, but didn't leave. "You misunderstand me, sir. I want to fight – whatever dark forces are out there, I'm going to fight them. I've tried with words and now its time to fight with actions. My friends – they're doing something. I know they're against this war, I know they're doing something good for this world. I can't just stand there and let them do it all. There are good people in this world, I've already lost so much – I need this. And you need me."

Nate pulled the file from the desk onto his lap and motioned for the boy to sit, which he did, hesitantly. Known associates and his roommates, all good kids, connected to the Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Doges. There was nothing that stood out, aside from a few articles that had pretty much disqualified the kid from the get-go in most ministry officials eyes, "This isn't some freedom fighters corps, kid."

Brad nodded, "I know, sir. It's the MLE. You're the ministry and I know what I've written is against the ministry, but I've researched being an auror – yes you work for the MLE and the Minister, but you're your own team. Its not answering to your non-combatant superiors, its to your teammates and to the wizarding world. The Aurors fight darkness so the rest of the world can live in the light."

This kid certainly had an interesting way with words, Nate thought while he rubbed his chin, looking from the file to the boy's face. "You say you've lost, what have you lost?"

Brad's body language was immediately defensive, they would have to work on that, definitely. "My mother. I, I had to send her and my family into hiding because of threats."

"These threats weren't reported," Nate said levelly, but was instantly curious. How could he say he had to 'send' them into hiding? That didn't make any sense.

Brad nodded, "I know. I didn't want anyone to get involved, in case it made it worse. Or to waste time if it was nothing. They're living fine now, and only I know exactly where. They're safe."

Nate shook his head and let the file fall closed before tossing it on his desk. He leaned forward and put his elbows down, resting his hands together and giving Brad a searching look, "You are to report everything to this office from now on. This isn't some kind of do-what-you-want, organization. We have rules and regulations and I'm sure you've read the public ones, but this is a living, breathing team and we have ways of doing things around here. You are not to breathe without permission, let alone do something like that. Your first day here I'm going to have you write out exactly what you did and how you did it. It won't go further than the training team, but you don't get secrets here. Got it?"

The poor kid was sitting up so stiffly, Nate wondered if he'd been hexed. Brad gave him a bewildered look and a nod, "Y-yes. Y-yes s-sir."

"Good," Nate nodded before standing and sticking his head out the door to look for someone, "Ah Mr. Shacklebolt – oh, young Shacklebolt too. Excellent, Madley, come here."

The boy was up and out of his chair – albeit very ungracefully, oi, he'd just re-ordered that stack of papers – and standing next to Nate as fast as he possibly could. "Young Shacklebolt here is the other trainee. The only other, so far. You two will be working very closely together and Kingsley here has practically lived in this office, since before I was here. You'll learn well from him. Shacklebolt – no, the younger, you take him on a tour of the office and training labs while I finish some paperwork."

Nate bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the shocked and awed look on Madley's face as Kingsley took him off, chattering a mile-a-minute about the training program. He was definitely going to have to justify this a whole lot – there were definitely going to be some injuries, the kid had zero body awareness and looked like he could be snapped in half, but you couldn't fake that passion. Plus, he had nothing to lose, so signing his life away to the MLE didn't seem like such a bad plan for a kid like that.