Death's Friend (Female Harry Potter/Tom Riddle|Voldemort)

Chapter 12 | Harry May Have A 'Saving People' Problem

Chapter 12 | Harry May Have A 'Saving People' Problem

The Potions Master furrowed his brows in confusion. He was pretty sure that Ollivander wasn't one of those people who goes ga-ga over celebrities. He took a double check and his eyes indeed wasn't deceiving him.

Perhaps I was wrong. He thought in confusion as the man in particular looked like he was about to burst in excitement - which looked unnatural on the man as the only expressions he had always seen on the wand maker's face was only a smile that never reached a grin, a thoughtful one that was always present during the wand picking process and a knowing smile, that even frustrates him to this day.

Ollivander seemed to have caught himself and restored his usual composure, "I'm sorry, I just can't believe I got the chance to meet you so soon." He apologized, eyes still focused on the girl.

Harry smiled and tilted her head, "I am honored that you think so highly of me, Mister Ollivander." She said pleasantly.

Severus took another look at the other man and took a sharp breath. He was not going to stay if he's already vibrating like so. Hence why he said "I'll wait outside." before making a quick escape.

As soon as the door was shut close and the only people left in the store was Harry and Mister Ollivander, it was as though a dam got broken. "Master of Death! Oh Merlin- I can't believe it-!" Ollivander breathed in disbelief while pinching his arm hard enough to bruise for a few days.

Eyes crinkling in amusement while listening to the man's hysteric voice, she waited until the man could process this experience since it is not everyday that you get visited by Death's friend herself. No, she was not being pompous, perhaps just an inflated ego but nothing too much.

Using a quick expandi noscito, she easily made her way to the counter. The owner finally starting to calm his erratic breaths. "Have Gerbold been talking about me? All the good things I hope." She said trying to lighten the situation.

"Yes-!" Ollivander quickly blurred before catching himself again and clearing his throat. "I mean, yes, yes, my grandfather told my father, who then told me. And please call me Garrick, Mister - Oh, it's 'Miss' now, isn't it? - Potter."

"Alright then, Garrick. You know the protocol." She grinned before lifting both her arms, "I'm ambidextrous, by the way."

She stood still as charmed measuring taped flew towards her and proceeded to stretch across her arms, hands and fingers. Musing in her thought, she suddenly remembered how many times 'boy-Harry' needed to try different wands and winced.

"Garrick," She spoke up just as the measuring tape retreated. "Perhaps we should try the eleven-inched holly wand with a phoenix feather core?"

"Phoenix feather core," Garrick mused in wonder. "As in his brother wand, you mean?" He concluded as Harry smiled in acknowledgement.

"Exactly."

In no time, the witch acquired a wand. A wand, though not exactly the one for her soul, perfectly works for her body. She nodded in satisfaction when a warm feeling washed over her frame when she gave it a flick.

"And finally, my own soul-wand and two dragon-hide leather wand holsters please."

"Yes, yes. I have it just in the back."

It is not a literal soul-wand, or whatever a soul-wand was supposed to be, it's just what she calls the very wand that connects not to her body but to her soul. The very soul that is Death's Friend, or as the public labelled as the Master of Death.

Sounds of feet shuffling grew louder as Garrick came back with a box, but not just any other box of wand, the one and only box that held the very wand that could wield the Master of Death's magic.