HP: Supreme Potion Collector [Original Female Protagonist]

It wasn't until they reached Professor Flitwick's classroom that Harry finally managed to spread out all his books and notes to dry.

Everything was soaked in dark blue-black ink, and what frustrated him the most was that his freshly written Potions essay was completely ruined.

"Hermione... maybe you'd be willing to lend me your essay to copy? Otherwise, you'll be collecting my corpse from the dungeons the day after tomorrow," Harry said with a tone of utter despair.

"If you had put enough effort into writing it the first time, you could easily rewrite it from memory," Hermione replied, though she still handed her essay over to Harry with a sigh.

"Hey, Harry, look at this! This notebook is completely clean. Didn't it get stained by the ink?" Ron exclaimed as he helped Harry spread out his books to dry. He had noticed something odd about Riddle's diary.

Orli felt her heart race. She had an almost overwhelming urge to grab the notebook and tear it to shreds. But she knew she couldn't act rashly. She didn't have the Sword of Gryffindor, Basilisk venom, or the ability to conjure Fiendfyre.

Hermione, intrigued, leaned closer and dripped a drop of black ink onto one of the blank pages. The ink shimmered brightly for a moment before it was absorbed into the paper, vanishing without a trace.

"Try writing on it!" Harry said, his voice tinged with excitement.

"Ahem—" Professor Flitwick cleared his throat pointedly from the podium, and they quickly straightened up in their seats.

Harry remained distracted throughout the entire class. He couldn't stop running his fingers over the diary's cover, flipping through its blank pages as though it held some deep, personal significance for him.

Orli knew all too well that Riddle's diary had the power to ensnare its holder. But she couldn't simply hand Harry another magical containment bag from the Department of Mysteries. If Dumbledore discovered she possessed an identical one, her secret would be completely exposed. Besides, after redeeming the Intermediate Occlumency spell, her contribution points were nearly depleted.

Finally, class ended, and Harry bolted toward their Potions hideout, running so fast that Hermione stumbled trying to keep up. When they finally settled down, they were all out of breath.

"Alright, now we can try writing in it," Harry said eagerly, pulling out a quill. He wrote, "My name is Harry Potter."

The letters shimmered briefly before disappearing, the ink absorbed into the page. Then, new words began to emerge on the paper.

"Hello, Harry Potter. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come across my diary?"

"Wow," Ron exclaimed, his voice full of amazement.

"Someone sent it to me at Christmas. There was no name on it," Harry wrote back.

Once again, words appeared on the page:

"Fortunately, I used a method more enduring than ink to record the events of my time. I always knew that one day, the hidden truth would be revealed."

"What do you mean?" Harry scribbled hastily, his excitement palpable.

"I mean that this diary contains some terrible secrets, some hidden truths. Things that happened at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," the diary replied.

"He really does know something! I've got to ask him more..." Harry murmured, his excitement barely contained.

"Wait!" Orli couldn't hold back any longer and spoke up.

"I think this thing is highly suspicious. Professor Flitwick just reminded us in class, 'Never trust anything that can think for itself if you don't know where it keeps its brain.' Do you truly believe an ordinary Hogwarts student could enchant their diary with such advanced magic?"

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