Harry immediately directed a green light at the sphere of light, hitting it precisely.
This brought a flutter of excitement to his heart, and a smile finally appeared on his face.
But the next second, he understood what the professor's warning meant.
After being hit, the sphere of light not only turned red and displayed a number 1 in the center but also began to move irregularly at a slow pace!
He hurriedly sent another red light towards it, but it just brushed past the sphere and struck the white wall, standing out conspicuously.
At the same time, the sphere moved upwards, exactly in the direction he had just fired.
Feeling anxious, he instinctively sent out another similar beam of light, which naturally missed as well.
"Don't rush," Tewell's voice came just in time, "The sphere moves quite slowly, just predict its trajectory a bit and give yourself some lead time to hit it."
Harry took a deep breath, watched the sphere slowly move to the left, and then sent a red light ahead of it, barely grazing the edge of the sphere.
Since the sphere was larger than the light they released, hitting its edge still counted as a precise hit.
After mastering the technique, Harry could hit the sphere two out of three times, although sometimes he was too anxious and the color of the light he released was incorrect.
Moreover, it became more exhausting as time went on, holding the wand for just two minutes could make his arm sore, let alone the continuous release of magic.
So after two minutes, he scored a total of 57 points.
Tewell was the first to applaud for the exhausted Harry, and the students belatedly followed suit.
He knew how well Harry had performed; to be honest, he didn't expect many students could last two minutes.
This was also a kind of limit test; students would feel tired after one minute, and one and a half minutes was probably the limit for most students, unless they broke through their limits, otherwise, they would have to stop for ten seconds after every half a minute to cast a spell.
The performance of the students that followed confirmed his expectations, and was even a bit worse.
Half of the students ended up scoring around thirty-five points, basically the score they got in the first minute, with the rest period in the following minute being longer than the time spent releasing magic.
The remaining students scored no more than fifty points; they were the ones who could push themselves to their limit but tended to relax and not easily try to break through that limit.
The only ones who gritted their teeth and persisted besides Harry were Hermione, the little witch, who seemed to be holding her breath, determined to perform well in front of Tewell.
She ended up scoring 52 points but was completely exhausted afterward, needing Tewell's support to return and several pieces of chocolate before she could recover.
This was a true reflection of the students.
At first, they were eager to try, but when it came to their turn, they were so tired that they just wanted to give up. However, after it was all over, they were excited to try again.
However, the performances of two students were somewhat odd.
While all the students were lying on their desks, excitedly discussing their performance, Tewell approached Ron.
"Mr. Weasley, may I see your wand?"
Ron was startled and after Tewell asked a second time, he frantically wiped his wand on his robe before handing it over.
Tewell knew the reason for Ron's poor performance as soon as he saw the wand.
It was a very worn wand, with some of the surface peeled off, revealing the wood grain of the wand, and a bit of the unicorn hair at the tip was showing.
It was practically a war-torn version of a wand, something not even a proud warrior who frequently used a wand in battle would allow to happen.
"As far as I know, Ron, you should only be eleven years old. How did you come to use such an old wand?"
While asking, Tewell handed the wand back to Ron.
Ron tightly clutched the wand, his ears turning bright red, "It's my brother Charlie's wand, he's studying dragons in Romania."
"Hmm," Tewell pondered for a moment, "I must remind you that wands usually choose their owner as much as the owner chooses them. Using an inappropriate wand can greatly limit your strength."
"For example, today you only scored 31 points, but in my view, scoring over forty points would better match your capabilities."
"So, I still suggest that you switch to a wand that is more suitable for you."
He was aware of Ron's family situation, so he merely came over to give a reminder. What to do next was up to Ron and his family to discuss.
After all, he was a teacher, not a nanny.
Then, moving next to Neville, he gently placed down the fifth piece of chocolate.
Neville was actually the third one to persist for two minutes, but his casting speed was inherently slow, and his reactions were not quick.
More importantly, he was prone to casting failures.
Thus, equally exhausted and drenched in sweat, he ended up with the lowest score in the class at 21 points.
Tewell squatted next to Neville, but the guilt-ridden boy avoided his gaze.
"Do you remember what I told you in our first class?"
Neville nodded gently but didn't speak.
"Remember, you are a wizard. Following your instincts can unleash strengths beyond anyone's expectations."
"You can try to forget the spells, forget the gestures, and just wave your wand to find the pure sensation of releasing magic."
"If you have any questions, you can come to me anytime, okay?"
Neville finally whispered, "Thank you, Professor."
"Eat the chocolate," Tewell stood up, patted his shoulder, and walked to the front of the classroom.
"Finish your chocolates quickly," Tewell scanned the room, noticing a few students had only taken a bite of their chocolate, "I prepared these especially for you. If you don't eat them now, there won't be a next time."
Those students then ate their chocolate in one go, immediately grimacing at the bitterness, but a warm sensation spread throughout their bodies, instantly dissipating their fatigue.
"So, the first place this time goes to Harry Potter, which means Gryffindor will be awarded ten points."
The students then realized the significance of Tewell's earlier applause for Harry; it turned out that the first to go, Potter, was the strongest!
The well-rested Harry, already recovered, grinned and accepted his classmates' applause and cheers.
"Now, we have another hour and ten minutes left in this class, so, you all have a little task."
Tewell distributed the test papers from the lectern.
"See? The questions on this test are exactly about what we've just covered. I mentioned many of them while you were playing the game, so make sure to complete it before the end of class!"
The students immediately let out cries of disbelief, thinking they had escaped the need for a test, only to be faced with one as soon as they had recovered.
However, the test wasn't very difficult, and the educational yet entertaining approach greatly aided the students in understanding the material, so everyone finished before the end of class.
They even had ten minutes to spare.
Tewell stood below the lectern, smiling at the students.
"Pretty good, I thought you'd play so much you'd forget everything. As a reward, you can ask questions for these ten minutes. Remember to raise your hand."
The classroom instantly buzzed with excitement.
"Professor, do you have a girlfriend?"
"I won't answer personal questions, but I can tell you, no."
"Professor, how powerful are you?"
"It's hard to describe with a single standard, but I'm more than capable of handling students."
"Can you show us how to play the light ball game?"
"Oh, you want to see it?"
The students unanimously shouted: "Yes!"
"Alright," Tewell waved out a light ball, floating above the students' heads, "The version I play is a bit different from yours, but the rules are similar."
With that, he cast a green light at the light ball, and in that instant, not only did the ball turn red, it also leapt to another location.
But to no avail, the light of the same color still hit it accurately.
The light ball thus leapt and changed, appearing one moment beside them, the next in a corner, never staying in one spot for more than a second.
But every time it appears, it is struck with precision and swiftness.
The numbers above kept changing, but the students no longer wanted to pay attention to that.
They opened their mouths in astonishment, the colorful light of the spell reflected on their faces. Their heads moved back and forth between Tewell and the orb several times, and their eyes simply couldn't keep up.
So they split into two groups: one observed the professor's hands casting spells continuously, while the other watched to see if the orb was hit.
Soon, everyone joined the first group.
After all, the orb was hit no matter what, so what was the point of watching it?!
For a moment, the whole classroom fell silent, filled only with the "whoosh" of spells cutting through the air and the soft "pop" of the orb being struck.
Two minutes later, the bell for the end of the class rang punctually, and Tewell also withdrew his wand.
The number on the orb was clearly visible.
"120"