Death is a Troll Snippet Dump

OMC x Harry Potter

Aspel frowns as he looks himself over. He is short again, he's gangly and he feels clumsy. But he did it so he could be with his father's young Master when he goes to Hogwarts. His long black hair is short again and a feathery mess without the weight of length to help tame it. He sighs, but doesn't fight with the changes, they were necessary. Once he is ready he checks his pocket watch, that doubles as his Death Clock. It is about the time for his father's Master to make his way to get fitted so he heads to the shop and after speaking with the young lady behind the counter and being shown to a stool by a boy with a pointy face and pale blonde, almost white hair. He knows he's a Malfoy and the brat would likely turn the shy little Master off of being friends because he acts too much like that pig in a wig.

The door bell chimes as the child walks in and Aspel gasps softly because he had not expected the change in the infant. Even as painfully thin and battered as he knows the Litter Master is, he is beautiful! He stares star struck until he is standing beside him and shyly smiles.

"H- hi... Um, Hogwarts?" He asks.

"Yes... Aspel Mors..." He offers his hand. "You, Little Angel?"

The child blushes, mumbling softly,  "Not an angel... Um, my name is Harry... Harry Potter..."

"Potter!?" The blonde yelps and falls off his stool in shock, which startles the three witches.

Aspel rolls his eyes and tries not to slap the soul out of the blonde prat as well as the three witches now eyeballing Harry. He clears his throat at the same time he whispers in the Dead Language that pokes them all but Harry in the soul and making them get back to work.

"Are you ok?" Harry asks the blonde, concerned.

"F- fine, just surprised is all... ugh what you wearing!?" The boy suddenly exclaims.

'No killing the idiot mortal child... no killing the idiot mortal child!!' He mentally tells himself.

"Clothes?" Harry asks, not sure what he means.

"Those aren't clothes! Those aren't even fit to clean with! I thought you lived in a palace and had servants and was spoiled like a prince!?"

"What? No, I think you mean my cousin Dudley... and no we do not live in a palace, though I am the family servant." Harry says, feeling a bit annoyed.

"What!?" came from the four Magical natives.

"You're a House Elf!? What kind of Magicals do you live with!?" Draco demands, pissed now.

"I.... I live with my Muggle aunt and her family.... they... they hate magic... I didn't know about it until today...." Harry suddenly says softly, cowed under the yelling and anger he can feel in the air.

"Enough!" Aspel commands and they all freeze. "You are frightening him by yelling! Calm down and talk at a normal level!" He orders firmly glaring at Draco more than the Witches.

"S- Sorry.... Uh, Mors was it?"

"Yes. And no you would no know a family by that name because we do not bother presenting ourselves to idiots like you and your government." He says in a biting tone making the four natives blush in shame. "If you will kindly finish, ladies. Some of us would like to go get our supplies." He says with an annoyed tone.

The women get back to work as the boys are fitted and soon they are paying for their purchases. Though Aspel makes sure to tell Harry in front of the Madam in charge as well as the brat that he should have his key and not lend it out to anyone. Never know who might kip off with it and use his money to buy whatever they desire, though he is pretty sure that his escort would not buy anything but what he needs with it. This will give him the desired result of hitting the news and spreading like wildfire. The faster he gets it out there that Harry's not a spoiled brat like James Potter had been, the faster he can get him help and away from the Dursleys. And while he does feel a bit bad for getting Hagrid in a spot of trouble, the Half Giant should have known better than to keep Harry's key. He will have to buy all the supplementary books for Harry later because the loveable oaf would only buy what is in the letter and knowing Dumbledore, he wants his 'weapon' to flounder, and eagerly snap up any little scrap he dangles before him.

He will have to figure out how to get him cleansed without the automated alert system sending Harry's 'Magical Guardian' a letter telling him about the cleansing. Decisions, decisions...