Chapter 819: Lochneal’s Gift
"Raise your wand. What, are you planning to give your enemies a foot massage with it that low?"
"And you—stop gripping it like that. You’re casting a spell, not digging up potatoes with a stick."
"Relax. Casting magic isn’t painful, and you don’t need to strain your face like that. If you’re really struggling, just pretend you’re conducting an orchestra. You’re a French wizard—you’ve heard of concerts, haven’t you?"
...
Kyle had to admit, what he’d seen on his first day at Beauxbatons had left quite an impression.
The teaching conditions, the alchemy classrooms, even the food—all of it far outclassed what Hogwarts had to offer.
But after witnessing the actual spellwork of Beauxbatons’ students today, he was equally stunned... just in the opposite direction.
Judging by their age, most of them were probably third- or fourth-years, but their spellcasting? Disastrous didn’t even begin to cover it.
Some of them jabbed their wands into the ground after casting a spell. At Hogwarts, even second-years would never make such a basic mistake—yet here, it was practically a pattern.
Others gripped their wands like they were trying to crush them, as if they held some kind of grudge.
Clearly, this was a matter of teaching quality.
Professor Flitwick had always been strict about wand posture and gestures—reminding students at least three times per class, and stepping in immediately if someone got it wrong.