Trenton Thomas eyed the circus grounds lazily. It was his usual look. Mother would, at times when she had the time to notice, chide him for putting up such a lazy front in his eyes and his grin. Oh, how she would ask him to wipe his silly grin off and be her bright young boy, like the amazing Dean Thomas that she married. Trent really did not care much about the reputation his father had established among the generation before him. He had only one hero -- Harry Potter. Still, it was mere admiration for how he defied odds and rules to become a hero. Trent was not very interested in emulating Uncle Harry, as his parents would usually remind him to, hopeful that their son would learn a thing or two from the life of young Harry Potter.
So we were talking about Trent's usual lazy look. Well that was what his parents thought. They were, unfortunately, wrong with their diagnosis. It was not a lazy look, it was a dreamy look from the lack of sobriety. Blame it on the muggles. The boys in his neighbourhood, the ones Trent call his homeboys, had begun tripping on whatever they could get their hands on. Trent was introduced to the cigarettes, drugs, and some alcohol, that they managed to obtain from older kids at muggle school. Despite hiw special Hogwarts really is, Trent is intrigued at the thrills one can get in muggle school. Perhaps he was missing out, but he will never trade being a wizard just to attend muggle school.
At the age of sixteen, Trent had began to have a steady supply of poison from his homeboys. His parents were too busy working at the Ministry and getting involved with the Order to pay attention to their only child. It worked for Trent though. He was not about to give up his keys to the fairy city just for some lame parental attention. Grinning to himself as he surveyed the bustle at Vendors Lane, Trent tossed his rollie away, tried to make a smoke hole from his last inhale of the rollie, and proceeded to enter the crowd.
Someone gave a nonsensical exclamation to the air, but Trent would not have noticed her if she did not happen to be standing near him. With the effects from the weed, Trent laughed out loud, imagining Peter Pan flying around him before thinking that he was Peter Pan himself. And suddenly he spotted his Wendy. Trent opened his eyes a little bigger when he caught sight of a brunette with the most amazing pair of ......... eyes. If he was anymore gone, he would have followed her with his arms raised, as if in flight, because he was Peter Pan flying after Wendy!
Trent took a few decent steps towards the brunette instead. Thank Merlin he would not embarrass himself by feigning that act of flight. Trent lost interest in the stranger as quickly as he gained interest in her. He turned to where he had seen Melissa Finnegan stand at a moment ago, but the space was as empty as that rollie that he had tossed away earlier. A puzzled look obviously decorated his face. And then he spotted his friend. She was harassing a very worried-looking man who stood at the cotton candy booth. Trent chuckled at the silliness if the scene before walking towards it. He felt happy, very happy. It could be unnaturally induced, but weed to Trent was as natural as one could go.
"MOPHEAD." Trent had gotten behind the Finnegan girl. The friendship with the Finnegans was a long-standing one. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan, what other explanation does one need? Of course their children were going to grow up playing and learning together. It helped that they were all in Gryffindor. Initially, when Trent still found girls as eeky as poo, he was closer to the boy part of the Finnegan twins. Somehow, over the years, Millie had become the closer twin. There was simply no explanation about that.
"MOPHEAD MOPHEAD MOPHEAD ---" Trent continued to exclaim the girl's nickname, a seeming attempt to annoy her, but really was his language of affection for her.