Reborn as Petunia Evans with a system

The sterile scent of a hospital room clung to Anna Watson, a stark contrast to the vivid worlds she'd escaped into through books. At thirty, life was fading, a quiet end to an unnoticed existence. Orphaned, alone, her only companions were dog-eared copies of Harry Potter, a universe of magic and belonging that offered solace.

As the beeping monitors softened to a lull, she closed her eyes, tears tracing paths on her cheeks. No comforting hand, no whispered farewells. Just the quiet surrender of a life unlived. But then, a warmth, a pulse, a strange confinement. Muffled voices, a push, a rush of cold air, and then—a wail. Her own.

Through blurry eyes, a woman with auburn hair and green eyes. "It's a girl," the midwife announced. Another cry, a twin. And then the name, a thunderclap in her newborn mind: "Petunia."

Petunia. The bitter, magicless sister. Her heart pounded as she saw the other baby, fiery red hair, piercing green eyes. Lily Evans. The truth crashed: she was Petunia Evans, in the Marauders' era, decades before Harry. Doomed to bitterness. But something was different. A faint spark within. Magic.

Why here? Why Petunia? Why magic? Questions churned. But with them, a fierce determination. If she had magic, perhaps she could change everything. Perhaps she could write her own story.