HP: Supreme Potion Collector [Original Female Protagonist]

Dumbledore continued, "This is because a major event will commence in October and last throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy—but I believe you will all find it immensely enjoyable. I am very pleased to announce that this year at Hogwarts—"

At that moment, a deafening clap of thunder echoed, and the doors to the Great Hall burst open with a resounding bang.

A man stood silhouetted in the doorway, leaning on a long staff and wrapped in a black traveling cloak. All eyes turned toward the stranger. Suddenly, a forked lightning bolt lit up the enchanted ceiling, casting an eerie glow over the man. He lowered his hood, revealing a head of gray-white hair, and began to make his way toward the staff table.

Thud. Thud.

Each step he took reverberated through the Great Hall, a hollow sound that seemed to amplify the tension. He walked straight to the end of the staff table, turned right, and limped toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning illuminated the ceiling, and Orli heard Hermione gasp audibly beside her.

The lightning threw his face into stark relief—if it could still be called a face.

It resembled a grotesque carving on decayed wood, as if the sculptor had only a vague notion of human anatomy and no finesse with their tools. Every inch of his skin was marred by scars; his mouth slashed across his face like a jagged wound, and where his nose should have been, there was only a flat expanse. But most unsettling of all were his eyes.

One was small and dark, while the other was a massive, electric blue orb that roved incessantly—darting up, down, left, and right, completely independent of its counterpart. At one point, the blue eye rolled back into his head, leaving only the whites visible.

It could only be Mad-Eye Moody. Orli inhaled sharply, silently hoping that this time, he wasn't an imposter.

He limped up to Dumbledore, extended a scarred hand for a brief handshake, and then dropped heavily into the only vacant seat at the staff table. Tossing his gray-white hair away from his face, he reached for a plate of sausages, sniffing them cautiously near his ruined nose. Then, producing a small knife from his pocket, he stabbed one end of a sausage and began to eat.

While his normal eye remained fixed on the sausage, the large blue eye continued its relentless surveillance, spinning in its socket as it scanned the hall and its occupants.

"Allow me to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Dumbledore announced cheerfully, breaking the heavy silence. "Professor Moody."

Under normal circumstances, the introduction of a new teacher would have been met with enthusiastic applause. But tonight, aside from Dumbledore and Hagrid, not a single person clapped. Their applause echoed awkwardly in the hushed hall, and they soon stopped. The rest of the room seemed paralyzed, too shocked by Moody's bizarre and intimidating appearance to do anything but stare.

Moody, however, seemed entirely indifferent to the frosty reception. Ignoring the large jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached into his traveling cloak and retrieved a curved flask, taking a deep swig. As he raised his arm, the hem of his cloak lifted slightly, revealing a portion of a carved wooden leg and a clawed foot beneath the table.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, his voice cutting through the lingering silence.

"As I was saying," he continued with a genial smile, addressing the still-stunned students, "over the next few months, we will have the great privilege of hosting an extraordinary event, one that has not been held for more than a century. I am delighted to announce that the Triwizard Tournament will be held at Hogwarts this year."

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