The moment Dumbledore left the school, fear spread through the castle at a speed no one had ever seen before.
The spring sunlight seemed unable to break through the gloomy windows, just as the students' smiles refused to appear on their faces.
Every face in the school looked tense and uneasy. Even the rare burst of laughter sounded harsh and was quickly smothered by the heavy atmosphere.
When Rita's article condemning the Ministry of Magic and the school board was published, the students erupted in outrage.
Their voices might not reach the Ministry, but their parents' voices certainly did.
According to Marvolio—
On the very first day the article came out, owls filled every department of the Ministry with letters. Even Cynthia's Cooperation Division received a mountain of complaints and grievances. Several employees accidentally opened cursed mail and had to be sent to St. Mungo's.
The uproar even caught the attention of many Ministry officials, and Fudge considered sending Aurors to warn Rita.
And the person he planned to send? Naturally, the ever-capable Mr. Marvolio.
So Marvolio hid Rita away for the time being, while Cynthia quietly rallied a number of like-minded officials to oppose Fudge's decisions.
This eased the pressure on Rita while greatly increasing the pressure on Fudge.
But since no new attacks had occurred yet, Fudge and Lucius could still endure the situation.
Meanwhile, classes had to continue. Acting Headmistress Professor McGonagall ordered all teachers to keep teaching as usual and maintain order as best they could—"Even if the school is about to close, we will teach until the very last second!"
Student restrictions also became far stricter.
No young wizard was allowed to move around alone. Even trips to the bathroom required a professor escort.
"So that's why we're stuck in the classroom?" George complained.
For safety—and to make things a little easier for himself—Tver moved all his classes back to their familiar Classroom Eleven.
But this led the students to misunderstand.
"What's this? Don't like my class anymore?" Tver leaned against the lectern, teasing.
"Of course not!" Fred quickly smacked George on the head. "George just wants to keep practicing combat. We feel like we've made some progress lately—maybe we can beat the fourth statue!"
Most teams were stuck at the fourth statue. Everyone was determined to become the second team to clear the challenge.
So far, only Percy's group had succeeded.
But Percy had used dark magic to interfere with the statue's magical flow, which didn't count in Tver's eyes.
At the very least, they couldn't reproduce that victory by any other method afterward.
"You two…" Tver drew out his words, "do have decent strength—"
He paused, then continued, "But your theory scores are awful. They're getting even worse!"
"Professor Lockhart's reports say your marks have actually gone down!"
George and Fred instantly hunched their shoulders like a pair of frightened quails.
In other areas they might argue back, but when it came to theoretical studies, all they could do was play dead.
Seeing them like this, the rest of the class burst into laughter.
Roger Davies slapped the table dramatically. "Hahaha, look at you two now!"
"Funny, is it?" Tver suddenly raised his voice. "You're no better! Especially you, Davies—you've fallen behind the most!"
"Pfft—"
Seeing Davies's face twist in misery, the twins couldn't hold it in. They covered their mouths and buried their heads in their arms, their shaking shoulders and muffled laughter doing nothing to hide how much they were enjoying his misery.
"Alright," Tver clapped his hands, putting an end to the commotion. "To make up for your terrible theory scores, I've prepared a fun little game for you."
The students all felt that smile on his face looked disturbingly familiar…
Wait—that was the exact smile from the upgraded Light Ball Game!
Even the way he said it sounded the same!
Their minds instantly dredged up the long-buried memories of that game, and some could practically feel their ankles throbbing already…
George's face stiffened. "Maybe… maybe let's not do this. We promise we'll take Professor Lockhart's classes seriously from now on and actually finish the assignments…"
Every young wizard nodded vigorously. Tver had never seen them look so obedient in their lives.
Naturally, this only made him even more determined to proceed.
The more exhausted they became now, the easier they'd be to teach later!
"Don't even think about it. This is for your own good." He paused. Somehow, the line sounded wrong even to him. "Wands up. Line up at the back."
The students groaned, packing away their textbooks with practiced misery, gripping their wands, and just as efficiently pushing Cedric, the Weasley twins, and Davies to the front of the line.
Seeing George at the very front, shaking his head in helpless resignation, even Tver couldn't help but smile.
"Then step forward."
He waved his wand, and the familiar glowing sphere and nine-square grid appeared on the floor again—they hadn't seen this setup in half a year.
But this time, three colored spheres—red, green, and yellow—floated and darted around in front of a blackboard.
George swallowed hard and stepped into the center of the grid, nerves creeping in.
He listened carefully as the professor explained.
It was something he'd learned after countless demonstrations—the professor's instructions were always the key.
"Every ten seconds, a question will appear on the blackboard with three choices. All you need to do is pick the correct answer and hit the glowing sphere that matches its color."
"Red for option A, green for option B, and yellow for option C."
"Answer correctly and you get points. But if you answer wrong or run out of time—then pay attention to your footing."
Tver tapped the grid. "This time, only one square will be safe. Stand on the right one—no points gained, no points lost. But if you pick the wrong one… well, you already know what happens."
Hearing this, George breathed a sigh of relief.
Aside from the added quiz questions, the Light Ball portion was actually much easier than before.
If he got every question right, wouldn't the whole thing just turn back into the simplest version of the original Light Ball Game?
"Feeling confident?" Tver asked, surprised to see George wearing a faint smile.
"A game like this is child's play for me!" George straightened his back, full of confidence.
...
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