Seeing George's confident demeanor, Tver couldn't bring himself to say much more. After getting caught out enough times, one naturally grasps the true essence of the game (≖ᴗ≖)✧.
"Let's begin!"
With a wave of his wand, a big zero appeared on the blackboard. At the same time, the first question surfaced beneath the score.
"When casting the Summoning Charm but forgetting the exact name of the object, what method can still achieve the spell's effect? A. Sense the object mentally and summon it directly. B. Simply chant 'Accio everything.' C. Focus your mind while chanting 'Accio everything.'"
George quickly recited the spell and chuckled softly as he raised his wand and struck the red light sphere.
"C!"
But—
"Idiot! You hit the red sphere—the yellow one is C!"
The students behind them burst into loud, merciless laughter as George clutched his head in despair. He shot a pleading glance at Tver, but the professor only shrugged.
"Wrong is wrong. Better get ready to move."
Right—there was the punishment too.
George froze, then quickly looked down at the grid. He scrambled toward the back-left square just before eight translucent clamps appeared. One snapped right onto his foot.
"Ow—!"
"Hahahaha, idiot! Magic fluctuations mean that's where the clamps spawn!"
George had no time to be upset. His score had already dropped below zero, and the second question had appeared on the blackboard.
He rushed back to the center.
"Damage caused by which of the following cannot be repaired with a Mending Charm? A. Fiendfyre damage. B. A broken wand. C. The stick your mum broke while hitting you."
"This one's A… red!"
He pumped his fist as his points returned to zero. But after the first ten simple questions, the difficulty climbed fast.
"Which creature cannot be driven away with a Patronus Charm? A. Dementor. B. Lethifold. C. Erkling."
"What the hell? Isn't the Patronus only used against Dementors?!"
He guessed—and was clamped again.
...
George continued making mistakes, especially on the simpler questions. By the time he reached the difficult ones, he barely got any right. After fifty exhausting rounds, he collapsed onto the floor, and the blackboard showed only seven points.
"Tsk tsk tsk. You got thirty of those simple questions wrong? Better hurry to find Lockhart for extra lessons. Maybe when he has you help him reply to fan mail, he'll teach you how to answer these~"
George didn't respond. His foot had swollen, his brain had shut down, and he couldn't muster a retort. Tver eventually floated him back to his seat, where two bars of chocolate waited for him.
He skillfully broke off a piece and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing it in big bites. Before he could swallow, a wave of warmth surged from his heart, spreading throughout his body and sweeping away all traces of fatigue. It also gave him the strength to observe Fred, who was up next.
"Ha ha ha, Fred! If you don't even know how to play the Light Ball, go ask Professor Lockhart—at least he can manage that much!"
However, compared to George's demonstration of figuring out the rules, Fred's performance surpassed his, successfully earning nine points. The extra two points were only obtained thanks to Cedric's kind reminder. Tver didn't stop this practice. Collaborative thinking prevented any single student from being confined to just fifty questions, which would have been far too inefficient. After all, his goal was for students to learn through this entertaining educational method, not purely to watch them suffer.
Yet the students watching from the sidelines were thoroughly amused. The questions weren't particularly difficult, many recurring from practice tests they'd already tackled. Unfazed by their impending turn, they loudly mocked their classmates.
But when their turn finally came, they discovered the game demanded a delicate balance: answering questions while navigating the light-ball challenge, maintaining composure, and responding swiftly. Especially when being squeezed to the point of instability, maintaining focus on the questions became crucial. Otherwise, mistakes were easily made throughout the series of challenges—which meant... points kept getting deducted!
By the end of class, only Cedric managed to scrape together twenty points. A handful of top students scored in the teens, while the majority ended up with single-digit scores. A few unlucky souls, or those who panicked, ended up with negative scores.
"This test was relatively easy," Mr. Tewell reminded them, "but note that the difficulty will increase as the course progresses. Make sure to review past problems after class—you have less than four months until finals."
"No way! We're still reeling from that attack?!" George wailed, slumping onto his desk.
Tver watched him with amusement. "Unless that monster in the Chamber of Secrets subjects you to petrification, remember to prepare for finals~"
After assigning their final homework, he escorted the students—still limping with swollen ankles—to the Transfiguration classroom, where they supported each other along the way.
"Tver, what's going on with them?" Professor McGonagall watched in surprise as the students hobbled to their seats.
"Practicing magic—minor injuries are par for the course," Tver explained briefly before calling out to the students, "Remember to eat that second chocolate bar!"
With that, he bid farewell to the pensive Professor McGonagall and strode briskly back to his office.
After this period of reflection and study, he had not only finished every book in the Diadem Library but had even grasped a glimpse of the concept of "free magic and will"!