Harry immediately cast a green light at the light ball, hitting it accurately. This made his heart leap with joy, finally bringing a smile to his face.
But the next moment, he understood what the professor's warning meant. After being hit, the light ball not only changed color to red and displayed the number 1 in the middle but also began to move slowly and irregularly!
He hastily sent another red light, but it just missed the light ball and hit the white wall, conspicuously off target.
At the same time, the light ball glanced upwards, exactly in the direction he had just fired. Anxiously, he instinctively emitted another light, which naturally missed.
"Don't rush," Tver's voice timely rang out, "The light ball moves slowly; with a little prediction of its trajectory, you can hit it with a lead."
Harry took a deep breath, watching the light ball slowly move to the left, then firing a red light in advance, barely grazing the edge of the light ball.
The volume of the light ball was larger than the light they released, so hitting the edge of the light ball still counted as a precise hit.
After mastering the technique, Harry managed to hit twice with every three shots, although sometimes his impatience led to the wrong color of light. And as time passed, he grew more tired. Just holding the wand for two minutes made his hands ache, let alone the continuous release of magic. So after two minutes, he had a total of 57 points.
Tver was the first to applaud Harry, who was exhausted, and the students followed suit belatedly. He knew how well Harry had performed. To be honest, in his estimation, students who could last two minutes would not be many.
This was also a kind of limit test; students would start feeling tired after a minute, and a minute and a half was probably the limit for them. Unless they broke through their limits, they would have to stop for ten seconds and cast a spell in the last half minute.
The subsequent performances of the students confirmed his expectations, even worse than he anticipated.
Half of the students could only score around 35 points in the end, basically the same as the score obtained in the first minute, with the rest of the time spent resting longer than casting spells.
The remaining students scored no more than fifty points at most. They could endure to the limit, but they were prone to slack off and wouldn't easily attempt to break their limits.
Besides Harry, the only one gritting their teeth and persisting was Hermione, this little witch seemed to be holding onto something, determined to perform well in front of Tver.
In the end, she scored 52 points, but she was completely exhausted, needing Tver's support to return and several pieces of chocolate to recover.
This was a true reflection of the students. Initially eager to try, they ended up exhausted and wanting to give up, but after it ended, they were enthusiastic about trying again.
However, the two students' performances were rather strange. While all the students were exhausted, excitedly discussing their performances while lying on the desks, Tver approached Ron.
"Mr. Weasley, may I see your wand?" Tver asked, noticing Ron's confusion. After repeating the question, Ron nervously wiped his wand on his robe and handed it over.
At the sight of the wand, Tver understood immediately why Ron had performed poorly.
It was a very worn-out wand, with patches of its surface peeled off, revealing the wooden texture underneath, and the unicorn hair at the tip was slightly exposed.
It was practically a battle-damaged version of a wand; even Aurors, who frequently used wands in combat, wouldn't wear out a wand like this.
"As far as I know, Ron, you're only eleven, right? Why are you using such an old wand?" Tver inquired, returning the wand to Ron's hand as he spoke.
Ron awkwardly gripped the wand, his ears turning red. "This is my brother Charlie's wand. He studies dragons in Romania."
"Hmm," Tver pondered for a moment. "I have to remind you that wands usually have a mutual selection with their owners. Using an inappropriate wand can greatly limit your abilities. For example, today you only scored 31 points, but in my opinion, you should be scoring over forty. So, I would suggest you consider getting a wand that suits you better."
He knew Ron's family situation, so he was just here to remind him. How to proceed was up to Ron and his family to discuss. After all, he was a teacher, not a caretaker. Then he moved to Neville's side, gently placing down the fifth chocolate.
Neville was actually the third to last for enduring two minutes, but his spellcasting speed was naturally slow, and his reactions weren't quick. More importantly, he was prone to spell failures.
So, despite being exhausted and sweating profusely, he ended up with the lowest score in the class, only 21 points.
Tver crouched beside Neville, but Neville, feeling guilty, avoided Tver's gaze.
"Do you remember what I told you in the first class?" Tver asked softly.
Neville nodded lightly but didn't speak.
"Remember, you're a wizard. Just following your instincts can unleash powers beyond everyone's expectations. You can try to forget about spells, forget about technique, and simply wave your wand, seeking the pure feeling of releasing magic. If you have any questions, you can always come to me, okay?"
Neville whispered, "Thank you, Professor."
"Take your chocolates," Tver stood up, patting Neville's shoulder, then walked back to the platform.
"Hurry up and finish your chocolates," Tver glanced around, noticing a few students who had only taken a bite of their chocolates, "I prepared these specifically for you. If you don't eat them now, there won't be a next time."
Those few students quickly devoured their chocolates, their brows furrowed in bitterness, but a warm feeling spread throughout their bodies, instantly dissolving their exhaustion.
"Now, the first place this time goes to Harry Potter, so Gryffindor will receive a ten-point reward."
The students finally realized the significance of Tver's applause for Harry earlier. So, the first one to participate, Potter, turned out to be the strongest!
Harry, who had already recovered during the longest break, grinned widely, accepting the applause and cheers from his classmates.
"We still have an hour and ten minutes left in this class, so you have one more small task," Tver distributed the papers from the platform. "See, the questions on it are exactly what we just covered. I mentioned a lot of them while you were playing the game, so finish it before the class ends!"
The students groaned in disbelief. They thought they were done with tests for the day, but now, as they recovered, they were faced with the papers.
However, the difficulty of this test wasn't serious, and the entertaining method helped the students understand the material well, so everyone finished it before the end of class. Some even finished with ten minutes to spare.
Tver stood beneath the platform, smiling at the students.
"Well done, I thought you might have forgotten everything while playing. As a reward, I'll open the floor for questions for these ten minutes, remember to raise your hand."
The classroom instantly buzzed with excitement.
"Professor, do you have a girlfriend?"
"I don't answer personal questions, but I can tell you, no."
"Professor, how strong are you?"
"It's hard to describe with a single standard, but dealing with you guys is quite manageable for me."
"Can you show us how to play the light ball game?"
"Oh, you want to see it?"
The students shouted in unison, "Yes!"
"Alright," Tver waved the light ball, hovering it above the students' heads, "The version I'm playing is a bit different from yours, but the rules are similar."
As he spoke, he cast a green light at the light ball. In that moment, not only did the light ball turn red, but it also leaped to another location. However, it was futile, as the light of the same color still accurately struck it.
The light ball continued to leap and transform, appearing next to them one moment and then in a corner the next, never staying in one place for more than a second. But every time it appeared, it was swiftly and accurately hit.
The numbers on top kept jumping, but the students were no longer interested in paying attention to them.
Their mouths hung open in astonishment, the colors of the spells reflecting on their faces. Their heads swung back and forth between Tver and the light ball, their eyes struggling to keep up.
So, they split into two factions: one observed the professor casting spells continuously, while the other focused on whether the light ball was hit.
Soon enough, everyone became part of the first faction. After all, what was the point of watching when the light ball was going to be hit anyway?!
For a moment, the entire classroom fell silent, only the swishing sounds of spells flying through the air and the faint "pop" as the light ball was hit could be heard.
Two minutes later, the bell rang, signaling the end of class, and Tver retracted his wand.
The numbers on the light ball were clearly visible.
"120"