HP: Professor From Azkaban

"You probably think I'm about to give a long and pointless lecture," William gestured to the four sections he had written on the blackboard. "Tsk, four sections; No matter how you look at it, this screams at least half an hour of endless droning."

Soft chuckles rippled through the students.

William knew exactly what students at this age wanted. It was just the beginning of the term, and none of the sixth-year students were older than seventeen.

At sixteen, they had boundless energy, a flair for dramatic self-expression, and significantly less patience than adults.

No matter how well a theory-based class was taught, it wouldn't win their favor. Even with plenty of interactive elements, it couldn't compete with the excitement of hands-on activities; especially since students weren't allowed to use magic outside of school until they turned seventeen, making practical lessons even more appealing.

But that was fine. William had no intention of drowning the sixth-years in an ocean of exercises. Unlike the fifth-years, they had more time to spare, allowing for plenty of activities to be mixed into the curriculum.

Besides, without the contrast of older students enjoying lively classes, how could the fifth-years endure their sea of practice drills?

It was like high school teachers promising students that university would be all fun and games. William planned to dangle a similar carrot for his fifth-years. I'm not being hard on you; look at how much fun the sixth-years are having in class. Work hard, study well, pass your exams, and you'll be relaxed too.

"Honestly, covering these topics properly would take more than a single class. I'm even planning to spend the entire year breaking them down for you. But for now, to give you a deeper understanding of the last section, I've decided to include a little activity."

As William spoke, he bent down and began rummaging under the podium. Before class, he had asked the house-elf Bart to prepare something in advance.

Under the curious gaze of his students, William pulled out a large burlap sack from beneath the podium.

Many students quickly realized that today's lesson would likely be quite interesting. They promptly ignored their textbooks and took out their wands, anticipating a practical session.

"I see some of you have already drawn your wands; a wise choice. A wand is indeed a wizard's best companion. However," William continued with a sly smile, "I don't think your wands will help much here. If you end up damaging the props, I'll have no choice but to deduct points."

Props?

As confusion spread across their faces, William began pulling items out of the sack, one by one.

A tattered photograph, a basket woven from willow branches, a bubbling potion; various odds and ends emerged and were placed on the podium until it was entirely covered.

Even after removing most of the items, the sack still appeared full. William set it in the corner of the podium, which now resembled a bustling market stall.

"A simple yet entertaining test," William said with a grin. "Imagine you're all on a trip; let's say to magical places like Egypt or India. You'd naturally want to bring back souvenirs, wouldn't you?"

"Now, I'll give each of you some starting funds, substituting points for Galleons. The items on the table are a mix of real and fake. Those who successfully identify authentic souvenirs will earn five points for their house. Those who fail—well, that's a one-point deduction."

William generously handed out this opportunity, completely ignoring the standard limit on how many points could be awarded or deducted in a single class.

"If we can't make a decision, Professor, what happens then?" A scholarly-looking boy raised the question.

"That would count as disrupting the class, wouldn't it? A fifteen-point deduction seems fair."

Trying to find loopholes in the game? Clever. But if the game master says no exploiting, you'd better not try, or you'll get banned.

The student quickly shut his mouth obediently.

"Alright, everyone, get ready. You don't need to line up. Just gather around the podium, form a big circle, and observe the items. Pick the ones you believe are genuine. Of course, for fairness, you may only pick them up after I say, 'Start.'"

Although many students openly complained about such non-magical activities, their actions betrayed their enthusiasm. The area around the podium was immediately crowded, and those who were a bit slower had to stand behind, tiptoeing to get a better view of the assortment of objects on the table.

"You can use any method you can think of to examine the items; except for destructive magic. To make it easier, I've attached small tags to each item explaining their uses. These should help you make judgments. Alright, the game starts now!"

Almost everyone lunged at the objects they deemed authentic. Those who were slower reluctantly switched their targets.

William clearly saw a red-haired boy, taking advantage of the commotion, sneakily hold a blonde girl's hand while hidden at the back of the crowd.

"Hey, Penelope, which one do you think looks real?"

"Shh! The Professor is right behind us."

"Don't worry. This is a blind spot; he can't see us."

Can you two behave for once?

Since they weren't disrupting the class, William didn't bother to intervene. Couples caught mid-tryst could get surprisingly feisty when interrupted.

If this had been before William went to Azkaban, he might have thrown the entire bag of props at them. But ever since leaving that joyless, oppressive place, he found himself unwilling to disrupt such happiness-filled moments.

Meanwhile, the young witches and wizards testing the items with various spells were beginning to notice something odd; everything they picked seemed to be genuine.

But that couldn't be right. Five points per person? How many points would that cost the house system?

Some students began glancing at William, hoping to glean clues from his expression. However, he simply stood there, smiling at them without saying a word.

If it were that easy to figure out, how would anyone from Azkaban have managed to survive?

The pile of items on the table had cost William a hefty seven Galleons; at a wholesale discount, thanks to a friend's introduction.

He had specifically prepared them for this class to make a strong impression on the students. They'd also serve as future teaching props. While the spells on the items wouldn't last forever, he could easily refresh the enchantments to maintain their convincingly authentic appearance.

Watching the students weighing items in their hands, holding them up to sunlight for flaws, and even sneakily biting them to test their materials, William stood back, amused.

He wasn't going to stop them. They needed to lose convincingly before he could continue with the lesson. After all, if he couldn't establish authority in the first class, how would he teach them anything later?

About five minutes later, despair began creeping onto the students' faces. Despite knowing most of the items were likely fake, they couldn't figure out which ones. Even using the tags' hints to verify the effects, their efforts were fruitless.

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