The Wizard's Instinct

On Thursday afternoon, Harry and Ron hurried down to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom on the first floor.

"I wonder what Professor Fawley will teach us?" Ron asked expectantly as he jogged along.

Harry was far less optimistic. "What if the professor finds out we can't cast a single spell? Will he get angry and stop teaching us?"

Ron waved a hand confidently.

"Don't worry. Other than that Granger, no one in the whole first year can cast even one spell. Maybe the professor will just teach us advanced magic straight away!"

"Once I learn it, I'm going to teach George and the others a proper lesson."

By the time they made their way through the mischievous staircases and reached the classroom, they were clearly late.

The two hurried inside. Their classmates were already seated and working on a test, while Professor Fawley sat at the front desk, reading a book with great interest.

"Awesome," Ron exclaimed.

Even though they had heard about it a hundred times, seeing the names appear above their own heads, along with the flash of golden light, still filled them with amazement.

Harry nodded in agreement.

But Tver had already looked up at them.

"I think," he said abruptly, "you are the only two students ever to be late for my class."

Harry immediately hunched his neck. "Sorry, Professor. We got lost."

Tver said nothing, merely giving Harry a long, deep look.

Only as the two fidgeted nervously with their robes did he say mildly, "Don't let it happen again. As punishment, you'll have five minutes less to complete the test."

The first-year test was very simple, mainly assessing how well they had previewed the textbook. Anyone who had read it could answer about seventy percent of the questions.

Feeling as though they had been pardoned, the two quickly found seats. After waiting anxiously for five minutes, two test papers finally floated over to them.

Tver continued reading Wizard Chess Basics. He had already mastered the rules of wizard chess; all he lacked now was someone to practice against and test his skill.

Half an hour later, the last grain of sand fell through the hourglass, but everyone was still scratching their heads and making their final desperate struggle.

"Harry, let me see yours," Ron whispered urgently.

Harry expressionlessly showed him his paper. It looked exactly like Ron's.

A complete disaster.

Tver clapped twice, and all the test papers floated lightly toward the front desk, gathering into a neat stack.

"Don't worry about your grades. I had long expected this level of knowledge from you."

Hermione gave a dissatisfied little snort, but in the silent classroom, it was unusually clear. Everyone heard it distinctly.

The young witch's face immediately flushed red. She looked up in a panic, eager to explain herself.

"Of course, I know some of you have already studied the textbook very well, and I didn't mean to belittle you."

"To be honest, I prefer it when you come in as blank slates. That way, I can give you a better foundation."

Tver drew his wand and smiled as he addressed the class in a clear voice.

"So, are you ready?"

"We're ready!" the students shouted excitedly.

Very good. Full of spirit.

Tver nodded in satisfaction.

"However, I also know that you don't know any magic yet, so combat-related lessons will depend on your progress in Charms. Before then, you will mainly be studying theory."

The students' enthusiasm plummeted as if they had just ridden a roller coaster.

"Before we begin the formal lesson, you need to learn a small trick."

Tver led them to an open area and casually sent three beams of red, green, and yellow light at the white wall at the back of the classroom.

"This. It's a very simple trick. It isn't a spell, just light produced through the direct use of magic. It won't even hurt if it hits someone."

"You can also use this trick outdoors to communicate over long distances."

"Red light means danger, green light means safe, and yellow light means there's a special situation. Of course, yellow isn't very visible during the day, so you can use green instead."

The young wizards were thoroughly uninterested. They had been hoping to learn powerful, flashy magic and then have an intense battle with the professor.

Tver took one look and knew what they were thinking. "Let me remind you: this little trick is very important. Every student must learn it before we can proceed to the next part of the lesson."

Only then did they straighten up and seriously practice the trick against the white wall.

It was quite simple. Anyone who had listened carefully in Charms could quickly master producing light. The only difficulty was making the light change color according to their will.

But as they continued practicing, in less than half an hour, nearly everyone had completely mastered the trick.

Except for one student.

"Mr. Longbottom, you seem rather nervous?"

Tver tried his best to make his voice gentle, but he still startled the round-faced boy.

His hand jerked, and his wand fell. Tver caught it quickly enough that it did not hit the floor.

The students who had already learned it all noticed what was happening and quietly teased Neville Longbottom.

Neville was so nervous that sweat beaded on his forehead. He did not know where to put his hands and did not even take the wand Tver offered him.

"You've all mastered it?" Tver glared at the group of idle students.

"Come on, don't be nervous," he reassured Neville. "Casting spells is as simple as breathing for us wizards."

"I'm sure you've experienced this before. Breathing is something that comes naturally, but when you focus on it, it somehow feels like you've forgotten how to do it naturally."

"Professor, maybe I'm not a wizard." Neville was on the verge of tears.

Amused, Tver patted his shoulder. Through Legilimency, he had long since realized that Neville's declining memory was the result of having been hit by a Memory Charm.

For some reason, this famous Sword Saint from his previous life had gone through such an experience.

"I can assure you that you are a wizard—a powerful wizard," Tver continued when Neville looked up at him in surprise. "You're just too nervous, too focused on useless knowledge."

He pressed the wand into Neville's hand. "Now forget everything. Feel your magic as though it were an instinct, then release it."

Tver's voice was like hypnosis, like the whisper of a demon, beguiling Neville and making him unconsciously raise his right hand.

"Bang."

A huge mass of red light slammed into the wall, knocking off a chunk of plaster and making the students around him jump.

They gathered around Neville again, but this time, their eyes were filled with astonishment.

"This is..."

Neville was stunned by his own magic. His mouth opened and closed several times, but he had no idea what to say.

Tver waved his wand and repaired the wall.

"That was plaster. Since Mr. Longbottom damaged the classroom, Gryffindor loses one point." He smiled lightly at the stunned students.

"Pfft."

Ron burst out laughing, and everyone immediately followed, clutching their stomachs. Neville laughed so hard that tears filled his eyes, and he could barely straighten up.

"All right," Tver said, drawing their attention back. "Since everyone has mastered this technique, today's lesson ends here."

"There is no homework. The only requirement is that you practice this little technique as much as possible. It will be of tremendous help in your next lesson."