The study space fell into an awkward silence, the air thick with tension between the two of them.
Tom narrowed his eyes at Andros.
The towering man averted his gaze, his face flushed red with embarrassment. He couldn't even meet Tom's eyes.
It was clear now—Andros wasn't messing with him.
He truly didn't know how to cast a Lumos or even a Wingardium Leviosa.
The magical world might appear ancient and rigid, but it wasn't without progress. Magic had evolved—not necessarily in creating stronger wizards or increasing the wizarding population—but in terms of practicality, convenience, and standardized spellcasting methods, it had come a long way.
Take the book Tom conjured up as an example—Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1, written by Miranda Goshawk. Before her, no one had ever tried to categorize and systematize spells in such a coherent way.
According to the book, both the Lumos and Levitation spells had only been developed in the 14th or 15th century. Of course Andros wouldn't know them—how could he?
"Then... how did you lot light up the dark or move objects around?" Tom couldn't help but ask.
Andros didn't answer. He silently conjured a wooden stake, then hurled a fireball at it. Instantly, it transformed into a blazing torch.
"For light, fire does the trick. And to move things, wrapping them in pure willpower and magical force works just fine."
"They actually went and invented dedicated spells for such trivial things... and taught them to everyone so casually..."
Andros came from an era where magic was raw and wild. Back then, magic was a weapon of survival—not something to be passed around lightly.
They lived in constant danger. The thought of using magic for daily convenience was laughable. Every day, their focus was singular: to make their spells stronger, more destructive.
It wasn't until the Middle Ages—when Muggles rose to power and the Church began its infamous witch hunts—that wizards were forced to band together. They founded magical academies, gradually diversifying and evolving their practices into what is now the modern magical system.
Andros was thoroughly intrigued by the book in Tom's hands. He looked at it longingly and asked, "Tom, mind if I borrow that book for a bit? Who knows, maybe there's a spell in there I actually know. Worst case, I'll start with the Patronus Charm—I'm really good at that one."
Tom: "…"
Was this supposed to be a teacher? He felt like he had just found himself a study buddy instead.
He didn't even know the most basic spells, and now he wanted to start with the Patronus Charm? That was practically one of the hardest spells in existence!
Tom might've had a cheat-like system on his side, but even his "cheat" hadn't kicked in yet!
"…Fine, Mr. Andros."
Tom reluctantly handed over his copy of the book and conjured another for himself. "Let's study together then. I think the evolution of modern magic will surprise you."
"Thanks, Tom."
Andros scratched his head sheepishly. Just moments ago, he had confidently declared he would make Tom proud—now here he was, already asking for help.
[Instructor 'Andros' approval rating has reached 20%. Host has unlocked Andros' innate magical talent.]
Tom suddenly felt a rush of clarity and strength flow through him. A smile appeared on his face, unbidden.
This was yet another perk of the system—one of its best.
When an instructor's approval rating reached 20%, 50%, and finally 100%, Tom would receive a reward at each milestone—an ability or talent the instructor possessed.
Yes, having a good mentor was important.
But in the magical world, logic didn't always apply. Talent mattered even more.
A person's future achievements weren't just determined by effort and resources—they needed the right kind of magical potential.
This approval system gave Tom the chance to surpass his mentors. It gave him the opportunity to absorb the strengths of many and become a wizard the world had never seen before.
——
Tom made a few modifications to the study space. He conjured a table, a few chairs, a sofa and a coffee table.
Then, the two of them—Tom and Andros—each holding a copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1, officially began their journey into the world of magic as absolute beginners.
Fortunately, the study space automatically granted Andros the ability to understand the modern language—otherwise he wouldn't have even been able to read the book.
Ironically, the "teacher" was more absorbed in the material than the "student" was. Despite these being the most basic spells, Andros was fascinated. He never imagined magic could be so... playful.
Back in his day, magic was used for one thing: battle. Duel or die.
But if you understand one form of magic deeply, you can understand them all.
Andros's comprehension of magical theory had long surpassed most. Studying basic spells now felt like a high schooler reviewing first-grade arithmetic.
Before long, he started trying out spells—right off the bat, without a wand.
Watching him, Tom realized he needed to get the higher-grade textbooks soon, or else Andros would surpass the curriculum in no time.
He too began practicing the Levitation Charm and Lumos.
This was different from before—when he had relied on sheer willpower and magical force to move things. Now, he had to use spells—precise incantations to channel magic toward a specific goal.
Tom followed the book's instructions exactly. He pronounced the incantation clearly and flicked his wand precisely—and to his delight, a feather floated upward on the first try.
But trying to guide its movement after that? Total failure.
Andros stepped in. Finally, it was his time to act like a proper teacher.
He watched Tom cast the spell again, then pointed out the problem.
"Tom, the steps in the book are the standard, sure. But if there's one thing magic isn't—it's standard. Everyone is different."
"This method is good for learning quickly, but it's not the best method for you. You'll need to tweak it slightly to match your own style."
As he spoke, he conjured his own wand and demonstrated a flawless Levitation Charm.
"See? My wrist flick is 15 degrees smaller than what the book recommends. That's because of my size—if I followed the book exactly, I'd overdo the motion and mess up the spell."
"For you, the angle needs to be a little larger—your body's still developing. The only way to know what works best is to keep practicing. Even I can't tell you the perfect technique—you have to find it yourself."
Tom's eyes lit up in realization. "Got it."
After a few more adjustments, he found his groove. His levitation charm started to feel more natural, more fluid.
They practiced for another three hours before Tom finally said his goodbyes and exited the study space.
Even though the fatigue from practice vanished the moment he left, his years of routine had made sleep a habit too hard to shake.
Besides, he only had 100 study credits right now—just enough for 15 hours in the study space.
He needed to use them wisely.