Maverick headed to his classroom at a leisurely pace, not in a hurry as he was running on time and would arrive there no earlier or later than eleven o'clock, when he would once again find himself in front of a crowd of students all there to see what he had to offer in the ways of magic.

It seemed like just yesterday he had walked those corridors as a kid himself, and a half grin formed on his lips as he nodded a greeting in passing to a fellow professor, who was no doubt on their way to their own class, or perhaps on their way to grade papers. Yes. It hadn't been that long ago when Maverick had ruled the school with his boyish charm and notoriety for a good time.

Not much had changed since then, except for the facts that the boy had become a man, and the boyish good looks gone and replaced with the ruggedly handsome face he now sported. Inside however, he was the same unpredictable, risk taking Gryffindor he had been back then. If truth be told, Maverick wasn't quite sure if he was serious enough to be teaching a class of kids, but then, he was the best at what he did. Could he be blamed if he happened to make the teaching part of his life just as fun as the other aspects of it?

The man didn't think so, and he was sure the kids appreciated it, if the racket he heard through the door from halfway done the hall was anything to go by. He stopped outside, cocking his head with a bit of a grin spreading over his lips as he listened to the rambunctious lot inside his classroom. It sounded like the whole crowd was there. People could say what they wanted about his approaches and methods, but they couldn't deny he was doing something right when the kids arrived to class before him and were excited for the lesson.

But then, why wouldn't they be? Maverick was fast becoming the coolest professor around, his lessons always lively and full of energy, and he completely dropped the formalities, preferring that his students refer to him as Mav instead of Professor Navarrette. Not to mention that his subject meant he was never teaching the same thing twice. No conundrum for him. His subject was vast and varied, which meant he could enjoy the non-repetitiveness of it's many branches and areas. It seemed his students did too.

The man shook his head with an amused grin on his lips as he pushed through the door amid the loud sounds of many people talking at once, and smoothly shed his simple black robes, tossing them onto the teachers desk carelessly behind him as he faced his class and unbuttoned and rolled up the sleeves of his white oxford to the forearms. "Alright, alright. Now who's idea was it to start the party without me?"

The tall man questioned jokingly as he faced his class, pulling laughs and chuckles from around the room, but they quieted and gave him their full attention. Maverick was just that kind of man. He was the kind of person who commanded a room just by being in it, and it never took any effort to get the students to settle down and get the lesson underway. The room itself was quite different from the other classrooms, as the ex-Gryffindor forewent all tradition and got rid of desks and the like.

Instead, every lesson the room changed, to reflect the lesson that would be taught that day. Currently, it had wooden work benches set up around the room, with backed stools all along behind them. On top of the work benches were piles of scrap metal, bits of wood, shards of glass, and even chopped up beach logs. In front of each student's place were two figurines, each made of a different material, like the ones piled across the work benches. The figurines were much alike, with the exceptions that one of each pair was exceptionally more detailed, and the other more generic. As well as that the more intricately detailed one had a certain feel to it, almost emotional.

Maverick clapped his hands and rubbed them together as he grinned around at his students. "Alright kiddos. Welcome, to Mav's wood and metal shop. Now. Who here can tell me just what wood shop and metal shop is?"