Classroom Shenanigans

Evan smacked his lips after closing the book, wondering which unfortunate soul had recounted their troll encounters only to be targeted by Lockhart...

It was clear from the detailed account that the author had been up close and personal with the stinking trolls more than once.

Evan shelved the book, knowing that despite understanding the troll's weaknesses, he still needed to make various preparations.

Like improving his Potion-making skills or learning more powerful spells. In short, his academic points were in deficit...

And the only way to earn those points, aside from regular class attendance, was by answering the professors' questions during lectures.

But Evan soon found that even being a good student wasn't easy these days. Answering questions had become a competition.

In any class, as soon as the professor posed a question, our know-it-all Miss Hermione would shoot her hand up, and upon being acknowledged, she would swiftly and accurately deliver the answer.

Once Evan joined the fray, the classroom became a battleground, with two hands perpetually raised high.

Hermione seemed to relish the competition, studying even harder and often staying in the library with Evan until closing time.

Evan felt like crying without tears; he only wanted to earn some academic points, and Hermione's interference halved his potential gains.

Driven beyond patience, Evan resorted to some "special" tactics.

...

"The Disarming Charm and the Shield Charm are the spells we'll focus on next. They'll likely be the spells you use most frequently in the future..."

During the Charms class, Professor Flitwick, a diminutive wizard, stood on a stool, imparting knowledge of common spells to the young witches and wizards with occasional wand flicks for demonstration.

With over a decade of teaching Charms, Professor Flitwick's experience was evident, quickly engaging the students in the lesson.

"Alright, who knows the incantation for the Disarming Charm and its use?" Professor Flitwick asked, scanning the classroom.

Hermione was quick to raise her arm, glancing at Evan, her only real threat in class.

However, to Hermione's surprise, Evan stood up and addressed Professor Flitwick directly.

"The incantation for the Disarming Charm is 'Expelliarmus,' Professor. Its effect is to disarm the opponent by forcing their wand out of hand. The Disarming Charm also carries a certain force, pushing the target back depending on the caster's skill level and the difference in magical power between both parties."

Professor Flitwick, atop his stool, was about to call on Hermione but was taken aback by Evan's rapid response.

"Very well, two points to Gryffindor."

Flitwick recovered quickly but was slightly displeased by Evan's eagerness, so he added a reminder.

"Also, Mr. Halse, I would prefer you raise your hand before answering next time."

"Of course, Professor..." Evan glanced at the system's reward already secured and sat down contentedly.

Evan's obedient demeanor earned a nod from Professor Flitwick, who perhaps thought Evan was just overly enthusiastic about learning. Clearing his throat, he continued.

"Next up, another question about the Shield Charm..."

Before Flitwick could finish, Evan stood up again.

"The incantation for the Shield Charm is 'Impedimenta.' It creates a magical barrier to block attacks from one direction. The advantage is that multiple barriers can be stacked for stronger defense, but the downside is that it cannot protect from attacks from other directions."

"Is that correct, Professor?" Evan smiled innocently at Flitwick.

Hermione's eyes widened, and she was too stunned to even raise her hand before the question was answered.

The other young witches and wizards trembled under Evan's scholarly aura. Was it necessary to be so competitive over answering a simple question? It was brutal...

"Correct," Professor Flitwick managed to say, gesturing for Evan to sit without awarding any points this time.

Evan didn't mind; the system awarded points based on the professor's acknowledgment, with the value depending on the question's difficulty.

"Let's move on to the next question..." Flitwick cleared his throat, glanced at Evan, then quickly continued. "Never mind, I'll just lecture for the rest of the class."

...

After mastering the art of answering questions in class, Evan's pace of earning academic points increased significantly. Hermione might be a top student and smart, but she wasn't as shameless as Evan in seizing every opportunity.

Hermione's cute face puffed up with indignation every time she saw Evan. Initially, she tried to remind him that it wasn't right to dominate the class answers and that they should compete fairly.

Evan shook his head resolutely. What kind of competition was this among top students? It wasn't against Hogwarts' rules after all.

Evan figured even if the Hogwarts founders knew about his "passion" for learning, they would shed tears of joy in their graves...

Hermione was left speechless by Evan's rebuttal, especially when he brought up how he lost five points in Flying class and now felt compelled to make up for it tenfold or a hundredfold.

While Evan was pleased with his success, the professors of various subjects were left with headaches, unsure how to deal with him.

They had seen students cause trouble, but Evan's class participation was unprecedented. Plus, his answers were always accurate, and he showed genuine remorse afterward, making it difficult for the professors to even scold him.

Emboldened, Evan set his sights on the final fortress: Potions class, intent on testing Professor Snape's limits.

Snape, who favored Slytherin and despised Gryffindor, was not one to be trifled with. After class, he personally warned Evan that if he saw him stand to answer without permission again, he would dock all the points Evan had earned in other classes!

But as soon as Snape left, the system chimed in.

[Ding, Potions class concluded

Overall class rating: Satisfactory (Excellent)

Evaluator: Severus Snape

Reward: Academic Points *10]

"Such a tsundere..." Evan couldn't help but mutter, then stroked his chin thoughtfully. Maybe he could push his luck just a little bit further?

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