Harry Potter: Is It Normal for a Hogwarts Professor to Be a Dark Lord?

After Tver's instructions, he split the students into two teams, divided by a knee-high fence forming a narrow path, effectively setting the stage for a cross-house collaboration test.

He paced down the path, explaining further, "You will be divided into two teams, playing a snowball game. You can only use your levitated snowball. Don't worry about running out; as one snowball shatters, a new one will appear. The play area is confined within the golden membrane and the fence. Your objective is to attack every person on the opposing team while avoiding being hit yourself! If you're hit, your snowball will shatter completely, meaning you're out and must step to the side."

Having crossed the path and reached the other side of the membrane, Tver paused, allowing them a moment to digest the rules.

"A reminder—the spells in your snowballs are weakened, but they're still not pleasant, so—give it everything you've got!"

Seeing the students' enthusiastic and combative spirit, Tver nodded in satisfaction. Initially, he had been concerned that Hogwarts students might be too pampered.

But it seemed that students from all years possessed a spirit of combativeness; it just needed the right moment to be awakened.

Waving his wand toward the sky, a golden orb shot up and hung brightly against the darkening sky.

"The battle ends when one team has been completely eliminated, or when dinner begins. The team with the most remaining members will be declared the winner and will receive, um, a Christmas present I've prepared! So, are you ready?"

The students shouted in a chaotic chorus, their voices mingling into an eager cacophony.

"We're ready!"

"Good, now on my count!"

The students fell silent, their expressions more serious and focused than ever.

"Three!"

They inhaled deeply, raising their wands to their chests.

"Two!"

Eager hands steadied their floating snowballs, eyes locked on their targets. The professor's gift was almost within their grasp.

"One!"

The golden orb in the sky burst, sending a brilliant light cascading down, illuminating the area clearly but not blindingly so.

At that moment, dozens of snowballs flew across the field like cannonballs, and immediately, several students were struck.

However, as the number of players dwindled, the students collectively encountered an unexpected difficulty.

"Why is this so hard to control?!"

Tver saw Percy's frustration as his snowball missed again. Percy's personal ghost quickly replenished another snowball for him. Levitation, a spell Percy had mastered flawlessly in his first year and was his first to cast non-verbally, now seemed dauntingly difficult to control once it flew toward the opponent.

"Mixing magic isn't so easy to learn," Flint remarked scornfully from the side. "This is practically a new advanced spell, not something fifth-years can easily handle."

Before Percy could retort, his ghost couldn't stand it any longer. "Proud of yourself for not being able to cast a Levitation Charm properly, sixth-year?!" the ghost chided, knocking on Flint's head. "And you dare criticize others when you've already been eliminated!"

Flint realized he'd been hit by a snowball, frozen stiff on the spot, but the ghost's tap unfroze him. Penelope, across the field, waved apologetically at the shivering Flint, yelling, "Sorry, I was aiming for Percy!"

As time passed, more students gathered around Tver, loudly voicing their frustrations about the difficulty of the spell and their misadventures:

"Professor, I got hit by a teammate's snowball, can I get another chance?"

"This is nothing, you don't know my plight. I was in the front row, got sandwiched, and hit by at least five snowballs—three from behind!"

Tver had anticipated this outcome. They had only been introduced to this spell that afternoon, and their ability to handle it was already impressively beyond his expectations. With more time to adjust, such friendly fire incidents would likely decrease.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat to quell the complaints, "this also serves to show you that in a real battlefield, imprecise magic can easily harm teammates. That's why large-scale wizarding battles either take place in open areas or avoid using massively destructive spells. Most spells don't distinguish between friend and foe."

Making a spell to identify allies from enemies is simple in theory—just incorporate some magic that involves the soul.

"Professor, will we have more classes like this?" a young witch asked tentatively.

The question hushed the crowd, all eyes turning to Tver expectantly. Their anticipation for Fawley's lessons was born out of desperation for a competent teacher after enduring Professor Quirrell's inadequate teaching.

After experiencing such a unique and engaging class, they had only one thought:

Professor, please replace Professor Quirrell!

However, Tver shook his head. "The schedule was set before the term began; your classes are to be handled by Professor Quirrell. Speaking of which, even today's session technically broke school rules."

Seeing the students' disappointed expressions and even a few young witches sobbing quietly, Tver couldn't help but smile in amusement at their dramatics. He quickly offered a compromise, "Don't worry, we'll keep this arena available until the end of the Christmas break, so you can have snowball fights here whenever you like."

The young witches instantly perked up, their tears replaced by smiles. "Will there be those special snowballs too?"

"Of course," Tver reassured them. "The ghosts will provide the snowballs, but remember, using them consumes a lot of magical power, so take care of yourselves."

The topic swiftly turned to the ghosts, creatures the students both adored and dreaded.

"Professor, will these ghosts stay above our heads forever?"

"They're really cute!"

"Is the Christmas present one of these ghosts? I'd love to have one!"

"If only they weren't so blunt when they speak…"

Their faces fell silent with mixed expressions as they considered the direct nature of the ghosts' comments.

"The ghosts will only appear when you enter this area, and they do consume a significant amount of your magical energy, so it's not feasible for them to be around all the time," Tver explained. In reality, it wasn't just magical power that was drained but their physical vitality as well; he had noticed several students yawning.

This afternoon had been as draining as staying up all night, so he dared not continue any longer. Otherwise, the infirmary might soon be overwhelmed with exhausted students.

Just then, cheers erupted from the snowball fight area—the battle had officially ended! Tver looked up to see that only a few students remained, mostly from the upper years, with Percy, a fifth-year, standing out impressively.

He was visibly proud, having struck several older students and dodged over a dozen snowballs, making him a key contributor to his team's victory.

Tver waved his wand, and the ghosts above the students' heads transformed into golden light, streaming back to a piece of parchment in his hand, forming two lists. "Excellent, I've recorded your names and you can look forward to receiving your Christmas gifts."

He then addressed the others, "And to those who didn't win, don't be discouraged. Reflect on today's lessons; they're beneficial for everyone."

"Now, that concludes our class. Dismissed, everyone!"