HP: Supreme Potion Collector [Original Female Protagonist]

For most residents of the British Isles, July 6th, 1991 was nothing more than another ordinary day in the endless summer.

However, for Orli Waters, it marked the day fate had irrevocably set its wheels in motion.

---

In Surrey, London, amid the drone of summer cicadas, warm breezes, and dancing tree shadows, a laurel-colored three-story mansion loomed at the end of the street, standing in what had been an abandoned park for years.

To the Muggles passing by, of course, it appeared as nothing more than a derelict plot of land their minds would instinctively overlook.

The building, while imposing from a distance, revealed its true state of disrepair upon closer inspection.

Peeling paint, dust-laden railings, an overgrown garden, and porch windows that never quite closed properly... and there, sitting on the front steps, was a young girl clutching an envelope, her face etched with worry.

Orli didn't need to read the contents of the envelope. The all-too-familiar school crest spoke volumes—whether blessing or curse, it was inescapable. Like it or not, come September 1st, she would board that steam engine and become just another background character in the unfolding story.

After dispatching the owl with her reply to the school, Orli turned back inside, heaving no less than ten sighs along the way.

The portraits lining the corridor immediately erupted into their usual chatter:

Portrait 1: "Orli! Straighten your back! Where are your noble family manners?"

Portrait 2: "Oh, do shut up, Aunt Glenda! What noble family are you talking about? A potions family that can't scrape together a single Galleon? Or a magical family with nothing but an orphan to its name?"

Portrait 3: "By Merlin's beard, what sins did I commit to witness such humiliation of our family even in death..."

Portrait 4: "Oh, my poor little Orli, it's all because of that worthless child you bore who squandered our fortune. To think a Waters lady must wear an apron and cook..."

Portrait 3: "My worthless child? It was your grandson who was the biggest spendthrift, even scraping off the gilding from our frames for money..."

Portrait 5: "If you hadn't gotten yourself killed with those obsessive experiments, how could the Waters have fallen so low? I should never have married you..."

Orli, well-practiced in such situations, covered her ears and rushed to the wall, taking three steps in two. With one pull of the rope, she drew down two thick black curtains, finally silencing all the portraits and gaining a moment of peace.

---

It had been eleven years since her cliché transmigration into the Harry Potter world. All things considered, Orli had been relatively fortunate in her rebirth:

—She had enough time to adapt to everything and learn the language;

—Her family had deep roots with an extensive collection of books;

—She was an only child with no eccentric relatives;

—She could roughly remember the original plot, and she had arrived in the hopeful 1990s. If she could just survive until 1998 when the Chosen One defeated the Dark Lord, she could live a peaceful life.

However, these eleven years hadn't been particularly kind to Orli.

The Waters had once been a renowned potions family in the magical world, on par with the Prince family. Unfortunately, going back three generations, every male head of the family had been a gambling addict, gradually squandering the family fortune until only this dilapidated house remained. The family vault had been completely drained, and even the valuable antiques and furniture in the house had been sold off.

When Orli was one, her parents perished in a potions experiment, leaving her knowledge of them limited to their bickering portraits. Fortunately, the family's last house-elf raised her, but when Orli was nine, the elderly elf, too frail to even carry plates anymore, closed their eyes forever, filled with concern for their young mistress.

Thus, Orli became completely alone. She managed to survive the past two years thanks to her previous life's cooking knowledge and life skills, occasionally doing odd jobs like weeding and dog-walking for Muggle neighbors, and scavenging near-expired food from the supermarket's back door.

She had actually planned it all out—though she was a normal magical child, perhaps Hogwarts would forget to send her an acceptance letter?

That way, she wouldn't have to spend her teenage years in that castle, constantly on edge, potentially becoming just another background character who might get petrified, cursed, or caught in the crossfire. She could sell the old house, flee Britain, and return to a peaceful life after 1998 when everything was over.

But there were no 'what-ifs'—the main plot, though delayed, had arrived.

Looking at her meager wardrobe and counting the few scattered coins in her drawer, Orli sat on her bed, staring at the long list of required items and books in the acceptance letter, continuing to sigh.

Thankfully, first-year books didn't need to be new editions, and the basement storage was full of various potion vials and cauldrons. A pet was clearly an unnecessary expense to be cut, and as for the wand and robes, perhaps she could make do with her mother's old ones? She just hoped the old wand wouldn't be too incompatible—she certainly didn't want to end up like Ron, spewing slugs...

The harsh reality reminded our protagonist Orli that her immediate concern wasn't the main plot, but rather how to survive seven years at school...

"Why do other transmigrated girls either end up filthy rich, or with cheat codes, or get adopted by powerful figures? At worst, they still have food and shelter, but here I am, living even more poorly than the Weasleys???" Orli complained while flopping heavily onto her bed.

With her movement, a small, previously unnoticed note slipped out of the acceptance letter envelope, landing beside her cheek.

"Dear Miss Waters, Given your family's special circumstances, we have arranged for Hogwarts' current Potions Master, Professor Severus Snape, to accompany you to Diagon Alley on July 31st to purchase your school supplies. The funds will be provided by the School Board's Student Aid Fund. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall"