transition

This duel had been discussed for weeks, and apart from the seemingly ordinary yet subtle magic of the professors, the most fiercely debated question was: which professor actually won the duel?

In the final exchange, with the last offensive and defensive moves, Professor Flitwick managed to deflect Professor Fawley's attack, showing no obvious signs of defeat, thus ending the duel.

To them, it seemed like a bit of an anticlimax.

So supporters of both professors erupted into argument.

"Come on, come on!didn't you see? Professor Flitwick was clearly on the defensive at the end, overwhelmed by Professor Fawley!"

"If Professor Fawley's powerful attacks were all neutralized, doesn't that demonstrate the prowess of Professor Flitwick's magic?"

Unable to reach a consensus, they eventually approached the professors themselves to voice their doubts.

Professor Fawley emphasized that it was a closely matched battle, and they ultimately fought to a draw.

However, Professor Flitwick insisted that he had lost in the end because he resorted to using magic outside the rules — the Super Shield Charm.

This spell, in fact, transcended the Shield Charm category, incorporating protective magic like Warding, Shielding, and various other defensive spells, making it a genuine high-level magic.

Yet, the rule of the duel was that both sides could only use simple magic that students could learn.

Once this explanation spread, discussions around the castle about the outcome of the duel gradually ceased.

However, debates about magic became even more intense, and the young wizards' interest in spells and transfiguration increased significantly.

This amused both Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall to no end; they would often teach their classes with smiles, occasionally showing off a bit more magic than usual.

Of course, the most eagerly awaited class was Professor Tewell's Defense Against Dark Arts.

Lower-level students never missed her classes; even if they caught a cold with the cooling weather, they would drag themselves to class.

He was forcefully sent to the school hospital, much to the complaints of Matron Pomfrey.

Seizing the students' heightened enthusiasm, Tewell timely introduced the Lumos Ball game to all three grades.

Naturally, the difficulty was divided into three levels.

The first year was the simplest, with the Lumos Ball moving slowly;

the second year added speed variations, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, making it difficult for students to predict the trajectory;

the third year was the most challenging, with not only speed changes but also unpredictable movements, sometimes changing direction three times within a second.

But regardless, once they tried it, all the students fell in love with this game that didn't require hanging from the ceiling.

They spent their days discussing their scores and techniques with friends, as well as eavesdropping on the discussions of top students, striving to achieve higher scores and secure a place on the leaderboard for the next game.

Indeed, Tewell compiled scores for each grade and created a leaderboard!

The leaderboard was divided into three grades, without any distinction between houses, with each grade's four houses combined.

The information on the board was simple: ranking, name, house, and highest score!

The leaderboard was casually hung at the back of the classroom, where every student could find their name and corresponding rank during class.

Students at the top of the leaderboard instantly became celebrities in the school, enjoying the adulation of their peers.

Even those at the bottom of the ranking weren't looked down upon.

Or even if they were, they didn't care.

In Professor Fawley's words: "Instead of worrying about that, you should think about how to improve yourself. A low score means there's plenty of room for improvement. Just a little progress can lead to a huge increase in score!"

Soon, the young wizards became fervently interested in the Lumos Ball game as if they had been injected with chicken blood.

After class and meals, they couldn't resist the temptation to practice with any round object they laid eyes on.

"You know, if we practice with Quidditch match balls, would it be more effective?" Ron asked Harry, who had secretly joined Gryffindor's Quidditch team in the second week of school.

A week later, he received the Firebolt broomstick from Professor McGonagall, officially beginning his Quidditch training.

Tiredly, Harry hid the Firebolt broomstick.

Of course, he personally felt that this action seemed meaningless now. The way Gryffindors looked at him now conveyed the message, "I believe in you, kid".

After all that, he finally relaxed and lay on his bed.

"I don't know if it's effective, but Wood will definitely kill you."

"You're fine," Ron said enviously. "No one has broken the record of 58 points, not even that Ravenclaw, who is only a few points behind you."

At this, Harry grinned smugly. Fortunately, he was lying on his bed, or else drool might have dripped down.

"You can't say that. It took me a month to improve by just 1 point, and Slytherin's Malfoy has increased by a whole 5 points!"

"But he's only at 55 points now. Professor Fawley said, the higher the score, the harder it is to increase. Some people's scores even decrease."

At this moment, a round-faced boy walked in, holding a notebook as if it were a treasure.

Ron's eyes lit up when he saw him.

"Hey, isn't this the guy who showed the most improvement in our first year?"

No matter how many times, Neville would blush when he heard this, but he couldn't help but show a little smile.

"Please don't say that. I only have 35 points, far behind you guys."

"In two weeks, you'll almost surpass me," Ron bounced up to him. "Quick, let me see what the professor taught you tonight."

Neville cautiously handed over the notebook he held. Since plucking up the courage to ask Professor Fawley for help half a month ago, the professor had spent two evenings a week tutoring him.

That was also the reason for his rapid progress.

"Why is it still about instinctive things for wizards?" Ron muttered, dissatisfied, as he flipped through to the end and handed it back, as usual.

Every time Neville returned from tutoring, Ron would borrow his notes.

Of course, every time the contents were things he didn't understand.

"The professor seems to like bringing this up, and he keeps muttering words like 'soul' and 'will' in his mouth,"

he shivered involuntarily,

"I always feel like the professor is studying me, not tutoring me."

Ron flopped onto the bed, absentmindedly playing with his wand.

"Well, then you're considered to have research value. I don't even qualify to be studied."

"You can ask the professor for guidance yourself. Maybe the professor will have teaching content suitable for you?"

Ron pondered for a moment but ultimately gave up the idea.

"Forget it, the professor probably doesn't like students like me who can't afford a new wand."