"Has everyone finished reading?" he asked.
"Good. Then I'll start asking questions. Pay attention: you don't need to raise your hand to show that you want to answer. Every one of you will be called on at least three times this term. Be prepared."
He stood behind the lectern with his hands clasped behind his back, his long black hair tied into a ponytail. He Shenyan said, "Mr. Draco Malfoy, please stand."
Harley turned to look. Malfoy rose to his feet, pale-faced.
"Tell me, can one's total amount of Magic Power be increased through acquired effort?"
He Shenyan asked unhurriedly. Malfoy swallowed, his voice quiet and weak. "Y-yes, Professor. I think it can."
Harley saw a smile appear on the professor's face. "Correct. Five points to Slytherin. Please sit."
Malfoy sat down in relief and let out a long breath. For some reason, he always felt an immense pressure when facing this young new professor, one that instinctively filled him with awe.
"Mr. Malfoy is correct. The total amount of Magic Power can be increased through acquired effort. In about a week, I will teach you all how to meditate. If, at that time, you find that the students around you are progressing faster than you, don't lose heart, and don't think you lack talent and want to give up. Remember this: the amount of Magic Power you possess is not the standard by which you are judged as a qualified Mage."
He Shenyan continued, "Mr. Ron Weasley, please stand."
Ron shot to his feet so quickly that his knee banged loudly against the desk. Yet he somehow did not cry out in pain.
Anyone could see how nervous he was, but no one laughed at him—not even Malfoy. This new professor seemed to possess an ability that made everyone become serious without even realizing it.
Harley heard Professor He ask, "Tell me the process of casting a spell."
Ron stammered, "Uh, use your spirit and will to drive Magic Power, use your imagination to construct a spell model, and finally use Magic Power to release the spell model. Is—is that right, Professor?"
"Very good. Five points to Gryffindor. Please sit down, Mr. Weasley. I have a few things to add, and I hope you'll write them down. Oh, I've noticed that quite a few of you didn't bring notebooks. That is my oversight—I forgot to remind you. My apologies."
He snapped his fingers, and everyone received a pen and a black parchment notebook.
Once they had all picked up their pens and prepared to take notes, He Shenyan spoke again.
"I wrote this process in great detail, so you may find it difficult to understand. But in truth, it is very simple. For Mages, it comes naturally. How many of you have ever caused something around you to change because of intense emotions?"
Quite a few people raised their hands.
"That's right. In that moment, your intense emotions moved your Magic Power and made it accomplish what you imagined. The essence of spellcasting is using your will to affect Reality—write that down. It will be on the exam."
"Also, do not write irrelevant things in your notebooks. I will inspect them at the end of term, and this will also affect your final grades. If you fail, you will have to repeat the year."
The students drew in sharp breaths, while He Shenyan smiled. Ha! Who hadn't been a student once?
The class lasted from nine thirty until noon, then ended directly.
They headed off in twos and threes to have lunch. Ron spoke to Harley about the professor's teaching style. "God! He's so strict, isn't he? I never expected him to give us so many rules right from the start!"
Hermione said from beside them, "Is that a lot? I think it's fine! Besides, he's actually very responsible. He gave you notebooks when you didn't bring any."
As she said this, she proudly waved her hand, indicating that she had brought a notebook.
Harley nodded. "I'm already looking forward to meditation, but when I flipped to page forty-five, the words there were all blurred. Only one sentence was clear: Please wait until the course reaches that stage. Do not attempt meditation on your own."
Ron stared at her in shock. "You actually read the later sections? I was already having trouble after the first three pages! There's too much theory!"
Harley and Hermione exchanged a glance, then unanimously concluded that Ron might be allergic to reading.
During lunch, they heard quite a few older students complaining that the new course was too difficult. Abandoning wand-based spellcasting entirely was simply unimaginable.
Ron looked thoughtful. "That's not too bad."
Harley was cutting the steak on her plate. "What's not too bad?"
"It's good that my wand was passed down from my brother. Even if I throw it away, I won't feel bad about it."
He laughed. Hermione rolled her eyes and bluntly pointed out a problem. "If even the older students think the course is too difficult, perhaps you should spend more time thinking about whether we'll be able to pass the exams."
The cheerful mood froze at Hermione's words. Quite a few first-years at their long table had heard her, and their expressions became just as gloomy as those of the older students.
After Hermione said that, Ron stared blankly ahead, as though he could already see himself failing his exams. Harley shook her head, finished her steak, then took another vanilla ice cream and started eating it.
At dinner that evening, the heavy atmosphere had become even more obvious.
Every student wore a grave expression. Quite a few had actually brought Basic Theory of Magic into the Great Hall, reading while they ate and being especially careful not to splash soup onto it.
Professor McGonagall looked at the scene in disbelief. She quietly asked Flitwick beside her, "Merlin's beard, what is going on?"
The diminutive professor said with a smile, "Minerva! Whatever is going on, I'm delighted to see their boundless energy being put to proper use. Besides, weren't we the same a month ago?"
Snape's gaze moved back and forth between his own plate and the Slytherin table. He ate the food in his bowl without saying a word, then left directly.
He went down to the first basement level, to his office. The original Potions classroom clearly would not be used this year, but he had learned from Mr. He that Potions was still an important subject in their world, though it differed slightly from what wizards had mastered.
He was very much looking forward to the day he could learn new potions.
For the first time in ages, he lit the fireplace he had not used in a long while. Using Magic Power, he moved all the glass jars on the shelves containing strange specimens into a large crate. He also cleaned the dust from the floor. The walls were dim and lightless, and he frowned at the sight before using a simple spell: Lumos-like Spell.
It was a basic spell somewhat similar to Lumos, yet completely different. Its purpose was to create a long-lasting source of light that could be fixed in place, shaped, and lit or extinguished according to the caster's wishes.
A sphere of soft, warm light floated up to the ceiling, filling the room with a warm glow.
After finishing all that, he straightened his clothes and hair, then sat in his chair. He took out several documents and put on the appearance of being very busy. In truth, he had not even moved his pen.
After a while, someone knocked on his office door. Snape straightened his back and tried his best to keep his voice from wavering. "Come in."
A red-haired girl pushed open the door and entered. With her hands behind her back, she walked up to Snape and handed him a vanilla ice cream.
"This is for you, Professor. I noticed you didn't have dessert today." Harley smiled.
". . . Thank you." Snape stared blankly at the ice cream. He accepted it and took a bite.
"Very good. Five points to Slytherin," he said without changing expression.
Before you continue