What could make an eleven-year-old girl lose her appetite and become restless?
Frightful creatures? A crushed heart? Hormonal upheaval?
None of these.
Orli would tell you that a single small note was enough to make her want to repeatedly bang her head against the nearest wall.
By Merlin's beard, if the Waters family hadn't been too destitute to own even a simple owl, she would have immediately written back to Professor McGonagall, declaring that she'd rather forgo any financial aid than spend even a moment alone with that dour dungeon bat.
True, the professor had ultimately achieved redemption through his unwavering love, becoming the most sought-after bachelor among dimension-traveling witches in the magical world. But if even the son of his beloved hadn't received a modicum of kindness from him, what hope was there for her—a mere inconvenient background character?
Orli could vividly imagine how the caustic Slytherin would unleash his venom during this "delightful" overtime duty of chaperoning a child's shopping expedition, expressing his profound disdain with the most precise and cutting remarks.
But who was to blame but herself for hastily sending back her reply with the school owl without thoroughly examining the envelope?
"Merlin's sake! Grant me just one owl, I need to send but a single letter..."
On the morning of July 31st, Orli descended the stairs with the grim resignation of one approaching the executioner's block, standing at the garden gate with a plaintive cry to the heavens.
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Before her words could fade into the morning air, a silky yet menacing voice emerged from behind:
"It appears Miss Waters has already prepared her shopping list. I trust you won't waste more than two hours of my time in Diagon Alley."
Orli turned stiffly, and as expected, beheld that dark figure instantly recognizable to any devotee of the wizarding world.
Perhaps due to her pre-adolescent stature, Snape loomed even taller than she had imagined, his presence more forbidding than she had anticipated.
The deep furrow between his brows intensified at her awkward movement, while his black, seemingly bottomless eyes barely afforded her the merest glance, their contempt visibly mounting with each passing second.
If she were to voice her reluctance now, Orli doubted she would survive to witness the next dawn.
Thankfully, she had remembered to bring her list of required items. Summoning every ounce of courage from both her lifetimes, she reached for the arm Snape had already extended.
"Thank you, Professor. I shall endeavor to complete the shopping with all possible haste."
By Merlin, she yearned for this expedition to end even more fervently than he did.
---
One could hardly expect Snape to "condescend" to utilize the dust-laden fireplace in the Waters residence, and naturally, the Waters family couldn't spare two Sickles for even a spoonful of Floo powder.
Perhaps Snape had already calculated this, or more likely, he simply couldn't be bothered to waste a single thought on Orli. Regardless, after her first experience with Apparition—feeling as though she'd endured ten minutes in a magical centrifuge—Orli finally stood, ashen-faced, at the corner of Diagon Alley, promptly doubling over to empty her stomach.
The instant she bent forward, Snape had already Apparated three meters distant, and upon her recovery, dispatched a series of nonverbal spells.
Orli dimly recognized a Scouring Charm among them, accompanied by various cleaning and deodorizing enchantments.
"Thank you, Professor. We may proceed now."
Orli finally managed to straighten herself, and observing Snape's expression, she was certain her standing in the professor's estimation had plummeted from "troublesome new student" to "troll requiring immediate quarantine."