HP: Supreme Potion Collector [Original Female Protagonist]

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After Halloween, November arrived with a sharp chill in the air. The weather had turned bitterly cold, and there was less than a week left until the Quidditch season began.

To ensure Fred could get his new broomstick before the first match, Orli, whose small vault had been completely drained, enlisted Hermione, Ron, and Harry into the potion-making team.

The empty classroom the twins had discovered earlier became their shared potion-making base.

Harry and the twins were increasingly caught up in intense training sessions, leaving Hermione and Orli to shoulder more of the potion brewing responsibilities. After ruining several batches of ingredients, Ron was relegated to assisting the two girls with simpler tasks.

Fat Scabbers constantly crawled around in Ron's sleeve or snoozed soundly in his pocket. Orli had entertained the idea of tossing the rat into the cauldron or wringing its neck several times, but she restrained herself, remembering that Sirius still needed it to prove his innocence.

# Fred: "Wood is absolutely mad!"

The twins burst into the classroom, covered in snowflakes, brushing the icy remnants off each other's hair.

# Fred: "He kept practice going until eight o'clock! It was so dark Harry nearly crashed into the stands."

# Harry: "Luckily George grabbed me just in time."

Harry slipped into the room as well, bringing with him a wave of cold that seemed to drop the temperature even further.

# Harry: "But I think my glasses are cracked."

Hermione flicked her wand and muttered, "Reparo," without looking up from the cauldron she was focused on. Her potion-making skills were already at a third-year level, just slightly behind Orli's.

# Ron: "Has the match schedule been announced? Who are we playing first?"

Ron eagerly set down the pestle he'd been using.

# Fred: "First match is against Slytherin. If we win, Gryffindor moves up to second place."

Fred explained.

# George: "Wood's still banking on Harry being our secret weapon, but honestly, nearly everyone knows by now."

George leaned over to take a sip of the hot pumpkin juice Ron had brought from the Great Hall.

# George: "Malfoy was even saying today that they should station people under Harry with mattresses to catch him if he falls."

# Ron: "Oh, give it a rest. He's just jealous."

Ron retorted loudly.

The twins left soon after to grab dinner. Hermione stayed behind, waiting for the potion to finish, so Orli, Harry, and Ron decided to keep her company.

Suddenly, Harry spoke, his tone contemplative.

# Harry: "I saw Snape at the pitch today. He was limping. Orli, do you know if he hurt his leg?"

Orli paused mid-chop as she worked on slicing valerian roots. Of course, she knew about Snape's injury—it was likely a bite from the three-headed dog on Halloween night. But how could she explain that to them?

# Orli: "He's injured, yes, but it's already been treated. Nothing serious."

Orli answered carefully.

# Orli: "He occasionally goes into the Forbidden Forest to gather ingredients. It's not unusual for him to get hurt."

# Harry: "I still think something's off. Orli, don't trust him too much. I have a feeling the troll on Halloween had something to do with him. Maybe he really was bitten by that three-headed dog guarding the fourth floor!"

Harry frowned, his intuition alarmingly close to the truth.

# Hermione: "No, that's impossible! He might not be the nicest person, but he's a professor. Why would he steal from Dumbledore?"

Hermione's eyes widened in disbelief.

# Ron: "I'm with Harry on this."

Ron said bluntly.

# Ron: "Don't assume all teachers are saints. I think Snape would definitely be interested in whatever that dog is guarding."

# Harry: "But what would he want to steal? What's the dog protecting?"

Harry was utterly puzzled.

Even as they headed to bed that night, Orli was still pondering how she could subtly give Harry a hint about the Philosopher's Stone. She wanted him to uncover more clues but didn't want them to suspect Snape. Yet she couldn't directly reveal the existence of the Stone, nor did she have any evidence to clear Snape's name.

Her head was beginning to ache again.

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