HP: Supreme Potion Collector [Original Female Protagonist]

# Fred: "You must be joking!"

Fred exclaimed loudly.

The tense atmosphere that had settled over the Great Hall since Moody's arrival was instantly lifted. Almost everyone burst into laughter, and even Dumbledore chuckled softly in approval.

# Dumbledore: "I assure you, Mr. Weasley, I am not joking,"

he said,

# Dumbledore: "Though, now that you mention jokes, I did hear a rather amusing one recently. It's about a troll, a banshee, and a leprechaun who all walked into the same pub…"

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat pointedly.

# Dumbledore: "Ah—perhaps now isn't the best time… not the best time…"

Dumbledore murmured,

# Dumbledore: "Now, where was I? Ah, yes, the Triwizard Tournament. It was first established over seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition among the three largest magical schools in Europe: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. Each school selects one champion, and the three champions compete in three magical tasks. However, due to the high number of fatalities, the tournament was eventually discontinued."

# Hermione: "Fatalities?"

Hermione whispered, her eyes wide as she glanced around nervously. Most of the students in the hall, however, didn't share her concern. Many were whispering excitedly, their faces alight with anticipation.

# Dumbledore: "Over the centuries, there have been numerous attempts to revive the tournament,"

Dumbledore continued,

# Dumbledore: "but none have succeeded—until now. This summer, we have worked tirelessly to ensure that no champion will face mortal peril. In October, the headmasters of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will arrive with their carefully chosen contenders, and the champion selection ceremony will take place on Halloween. An impartial judge will determine which students are most qualified to compete for the Triwizard Cup, bringing honor to their school—and earning a personal prize of one thousand Galleons."

# Ron: "I'm going to enter!"

Ron muttered under his breath, his face glowing with excitement. He wasn't alone in dreaming of becoming Hogwarts' champion; at every house table, students were staring at Dumbledore with eager eyes or whispering animatedly to their neighbors. But as Dumbledore resumed speaking, the hall quickly fell silent again.

# Dumbledore: "I know many of you are eager to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts,"

he said,

# Dumbledore: "but the participating schools and the Ministry of Magic have agreed to enforce an age restriction for this year's competitors. Only students who are seventeen or older will be permitted to submit their names. We believe,"

—Dumbledore raised his voice slightly to be heard over the murmurs of protest spreading through the hall—

# Dumbledore: "this measure is necessary. The tasks in the tournament remain dangerous, and despite all precautions, younger students simply would not be able to handle them. I personally guarantee that no underage student will be able to deceive our impartial judge and become a Hogwarts champion."

His gaze lingered briefly on Fred and George, his blue eyes sparkling with a knowing glint.

# Dumbledore: "So, if you are under seventeen, I urge you not to waste your time submitting an application.

# Dumbledore: "Now, it's getting late. Off to bed! Chop-chop!"

Dumbledore sat down and turned to converse with Moody. The hall erupted into a symphony of clattering chairs and bustling footsteps as students stood and began filing out toward the entrance.

Orli moved with the crowd toward the Gryffindor common room, faintly catching snippets of Fred and George's conversation about circumventing the age restriction—they seemed to be plotting to use an Aging Potion. Ron, too, looked as though he couldn't wait to try his luck.

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