You have an aptitude for practical magic. It's no problem to hold the ball in place. "Five," you say, and gently bring the ball down to Manish's waiting hand.
You run through the Fibonacci sequence until the pattern has faded from your memory. It lingers for a moment, as if stuck to your brain, before it's gone for good.
The pattern paper you dropped on the floor is now confetti. The energy changed the pattern, ripping the paper.
"Nice job." It's Desmond, the smarmy student who complained about how boring this assessment is. He steps between you and Manish. "Just barely made it, though."
"Uh, shouldn't you be with your partner?" Manish asks around Desmond's shoulder.
Desmond ignores him. "You'd do better if you prepared your mind ahead of time. Thought about magic before channeling."