DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDE.

Brent was STOKED. Defense Against the Dark Arts was his favorite class! He was actually early to class, although there was still a small crowd already gathered. "Hello, Professor," Brent greeted, as he made his way into the room. No desks. No tables. Just some mats and cushions. Whatever. He probably wouldn't care if he had to sit on a rock. He didn't even want to sit anyway. He wanted BATTLE.

There was some sort of something concealed under a cloth, but of course Brent didn't fool with that. He wasn't an idiot, and who wanted to anger a Defense professor anyway? Finding a random mat situated somewhere in the middle, Brent took a seat and waited for the lesson to begin.