holly, eight 1/2 inches, unicorn hair -- WTF. HP!MR fic

((WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS, BRAIN. UGH.
Sorry in advance. This is an HP-fusion!MR. No lie. I had a dream about this. There's not much of a plot. These are just scenes in some order about this world. You'll see.))

After hours of interviewing wizards, Minerva McGonagall finally found the perfect Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Roften Sanders was experienced and competent, not to mention the fact that he passed the rigorous background checks they instilled finally. The wizard used to be a Slytherin, but nothing is perfect.

There was just one problem.

She sighed, set down her pen, and looked at the prospective professor across the desk with a strained smile, "Mr. Sanders, I believe you to be the best person for this job so far."

The wizard quirked his lips into a smirk, "I'm sensing a, 'but' here."

Minerva nodded, "As you can tell, Hogwarts doesn't keep Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers here for long. Some of the reason has to do with extenuating circumstances, but a lot of it has to do with certain student of ours."

The professor-to-be tilted his head in confusion, "I thought Harry Potter has been graduated for quite some time now."

"Oh, Merlin, no," Minerva exclaimed. "We haven't had adventures in these halls like those for a long time. This student is harmless... Mostly."

Mr. Sanders nodded, relaxing a bit, "A rowdy student, then?"

Minerva hesitated, "Not quite. The boy is very smart for his age, too smart, with a personality that makes him... unpredictable. He's not mean-spirited in any way, he just likes to annoy his teachers and fellow students with his cleverness. A lot of his teachers we've hired in the past weren't... patient enough to deal with his level of cunning."

Mr. Sanders nodded, taking this in, "I've had clever students in the past. I think I can deal with this student."

"Merlin, I doubt it," Minerva muttered, but nodded back, "Well, if the paperwork goes through, I believe I will see you this fall. Congratulations, you will be our youngest teacher yet."

Mr. Sanders smiled and thanked her, getting up from his seat. He paused then before asking, "This student. What did you say his name was?"

Minerva smiled, "I didn't. His name is Trent Field."

*

Trent Field was somewhat of a living legend in Hogwarts. Rumors floated around on what stunt he did next. When teachers first come to Hogwarts and receives word of these rumors, they dismiss them as exaggerations and move on.

They really aren't.

Yes, Trent Field really did try to have tea with the Great Squid. No, it did not end well for either the Great Squid or Trent. The Great Squid has been seen to be drinking tea more often, though.

Yes, Trent Field really did bring a Jarvey with him to Professor Cromwell's, a rather uptight Arithmancy professor, third-year class and then had gnomes wander in the class. Needless to say, Trent had received detention, the third-year Hufflepuffs were scandalized, and Professor Cromwell had become a rather unappealing shade of red.

And, yes, Trent Field really did set the castle on fire. By accident. To be fair, it wasn't technically fire, and the castle itself was rather amused by the whole ordeal. In fact, Trent would have received more than a month's worth of detention had it not been for his rather impressive use of water spells. It wasn't his fault that the fireworks he decided to set off on top of the school weren't as safe as he thought.

There were many more rumors that made even less sense than those, some that didn't even seem possible (which, given the nature of the wizarding world, was saying something) until the professors saw the student in action. After that, professors had taken to safe-warding their rooms against everything they could think of for their safety.

If it wasn't for the fact that Trent was a great, hardworking student (and had a buffer of his Ravenclaw cousin, Lucas Mays), the Gryffindor would have been expelled by now. As it was, professors had been rejoicing this year as their last year of seeing Trent Field in their classrooms. Unless he came back as a professor himself.

Which was another thing. Every seventh-year had to go through some guidance from a professor on what they wanted to do after completing their last year of Hogwarts, just to make sure everything was in order.

Most of the professors have been giving excuses to Headmistress McGonagall on reasons why they couldn't do this with Trent Field. In fact, all but one had pushed Trent Field off their list to mentor, and Minerva was sure that if Professor Sanders truly knew the boy, he would have given his excuse, too.

Minerva was very happy for this.

"So," Trent greeted, plopping down on a seat next to Lucas in the Great Hall, setting his textbooks down on the table with the same carefulness. "Hypothetically speaking, if I happened to rally the paintings to revolt against one another by accident, would I get in trouble?"

Some of the new Ravenclaws stared at the Gryffindor student, obviously not realizing yet how many rules Trent abided by.

Lucas looked up from his own textbook and glared, "If it was anyone else, I would say no. But it's you."

Trent gasped and clutched at his heart, "Oh, Lucas, you wound me. Surely you would not hurt your cousin in this manner?"

Lucas rolled his eyes, "Why don't you go sit at your actual table? You're not a Ravenclaw. You're not even an honorary Ravenclaw, no matter how many times you tell me that, 'The head prefect knighted you' or whatever."

Trent pouted, "But he did it with a sword and everything."

Lucas raised an eyebrow, "And you probably bribed or blackmailed him into doing so."

Trent ignored this, "Besides, I had another reason why I came over-"

"You always do."

"-AND that reason was whether you were going to be joining your Quidditch team this year."

Lucas laughed, shocked, "You're kidding, right?"

"What?! Just because I'm horrible riding a broom doesn't mean it passed down to you-"

"I don't think family genetics work that way, Trent."

"I have it on good authority that you're actually good at Quidditch, Lucas," Trent was not to be deterred.

"I played against you and won, Trent. That's hardly an accomplishment."

Trent narrowed his eyes, "I already put you on the try-out list."

"What?!" Lucas yelled, gaining a few head turns that made him look down and blush. He said in a softer voice, "Trent, you are kidding yourself if you think I'm going to go to a try-out."

"We shall see about that," Trent replied haughtily, standing up and gathering his textbooks. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to pit the Baroque paintings and the early Renaissance paintings against each other before going to my first Defense class."

"You're really not going to do that, right?" Lucas yelled after him, before grumbling, "What am I thinking, of course he will," and following him.

"Are Gryffindors allowed to sit here?" A first-year Ravenclaw asked one of the older students. The student shrugged and smiled, "There's no rules against it, which is probably how Trent gets away with it."

*

"Field, Trent."

Sorting usually was an easy process, if a bit long or boring. A first-year, scared or nervous, would get up to the stool, the Sorting Hat was placed upon him or her, the Hat decided, the student would leave to his or her respective table. This Sorting shouldn't have been any different.

It was.

As soon as the Sorting Hat was placed on the blonde curls of the boy, Trent had begun to ask questions, fascinated, "How can you talk?!"

A very old charm, the Hat replied in the boy's head, already trying to find out which house the boy should be in.

"That's so cool! Do you eat, too, since you have a mouth?" Trent kept asking aloud, much to the amusement of the school and the annoyance of the Hat.

No, I'm just a Hat. You are quite inquistive, but you don't have many other Ravenclaw qualities.

"Do you get bored and start talking to yourself? Do you randomly float and sit on other people's heads to freak them out?"

No, and no. Quite the mind you have here, boy. You are certainly not a Hufflepuff--

"Wait, so all you do is this, once a year? You have got to be horribly bored," Trent wondered, almost disappointed that the Hat didn't do anything else.

I most certainly can do something else! You are quite gutsy with your words and the other houses would probably kill you within a month. So, you shall be in--

"WAIT," Trent yelled, interrupting the Sorting Hat's decision.

What?

"If you sort people only, does that make you OCD?"

Oh, for Merlin's sake... "GRYFFINDOR."

*

To say that Trent was fascinated with the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor would be an understatement.

((I'm stopping here for now.))