Making No Sense Whatsoever

It had been at least two days since the gunging incident in Professor Blobby's class. There was a rumour that he had already been sacked and the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was arriving that very morning. At the Gryffindor table, a very annoyed Hermione joined Harry and Ron for breakfast.

"I still can't get all the gunge out of my hair!" she exclaimed. Ron was about to make an attempt at a witty remark when Professor McGonagall called for silence.

"SHUT UP!" she screamed. With every student looking at him, Professor Dumbledore rose to speak.

"As some of you may know, we are expecting the arrival of our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this morning ..."

"What happened to Professor Blobby?" asked an innocent yet bold first year.

"NEVER YOU MIND ABOUT PROFESSOR BLOBBY!" erupted Dumbledore. The students were surprised by their headmaster's yell but he had a good reason to be so touchy when it came to Professor Blobby. When he summoned the walking pink and yellow spotted disaster to his office, Professor Blobby had a bit of a run in with Fawkes. The poor bird may never be the same again. "As I was saying, the new teacher should be here soon ..." Dumbledore was interrupted by a loud screech from Mrs. Norris out in the corridor followed by a shout of,

"Get out of the way you dipstick cat!" The door opened and a man in second hand wizarding robes carrying a large suitcase entered.

"I would like to introduce you all to Professor D. Trotter." Professor Dumbledore was a bit more hopeful about this new teacher. He had agreed to take the job due to business on the Peckham market being a bit down lately. The new professor took his place at the staff table, shaking Professor Dumbledore's hand as he walked.

"Mercy Professuor, as the French say. All right luv?" He winked cheekily at Professor McGonagall, who was fighting the urge to transfigure him into a traffic cone. Professor Trotter sat down next to Professor Snape. "Hey guv, you the Potions teacher 'round here?"

"Indeed I am," drawled Snape without turning.

"Right, then have I got a bargain for you." He pulled several potion bottles from his suitcase. "Brand new potion bottles made in Germany, superb quality. Ten sickles a dozen," Professor Snape examined one of the bottles closely.

"These are cracked. They won't hold dangerous and corrosive potions for five minutes. They would be a danger to my students,"

"Eight sickles?"

"All right, I'll take two dozen,"

"Lovely jubbly!" said Professor Trotter as he rubbed his hands together.

Harry, Ron and Hermione's first lesson with the new teacher was later that afternoon. Hermione seemed sceptical about his qualifications.

"Is it just me, or does Professor Trotter know as much about magic as Ron does about personal hygiene?"

"What are you trying to say?" asked Ron as he wiped the contents of his nose onto his robes.

"I'm just saying, either Professor Dumbledore is really scraping the barrel in his search for teachers or someone is playing a very tiresome joke on us." Before Hermione could say anything else, Professor Trotter strolled into the classroom.

"Morning all," he said as he placed his suitcase on his desk. Hermione put her hand up directly. "Yes luv?"

"Professor Trotter ..."

"Oh please, don't bother with all this 'professor' malarkey. Call me Del boy."

"Okay ...Del boy," continued Hermione, a little put off. "I was just wandering; what are we studying this year?"

"Good question. We'll be studying everything in this ere book," he answered as he pulled a textbook from his suitcase. "Brand new, you won't find this in Flourish and Blotts, oh no. Five galleons a copy." There were some general exclamations of indignation. "Sea la vy as the French say. You want the books, you gotta pay the cash." Del boy ducked as a hex flew over his head. "Oy, watch it you little plonker!"

"Damn, missed," muttered Ron. Hermione had her head in her hands.

"This is ridiculous, we've never had to buy our books from a dodgy dealing teacher before! It makes no sense!" Harry and Ron weren't listening. Harry was buying not only the book but also some new Quidditch shin guards from Professor Trotter. Unbeknownst to Harry, the shin guards offered about as much protection as a dishcloth tied around his legs. Ron had spotted something familiar.

"Hey, it's that review button again! Look, there! Do you see it?"