𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊 ➵ 𝖉. 𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖋𝖔𝖞 | 𝖍. 𝖕𝖔𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗

𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖊 𝖆 𝖘𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖗

༻✧༺

Exactly three minutes before eight, Mr. Garrick Ollivander left a note underneath the doormat for his assistant to find. He checked the time on the silver pocket watch. She was always five minutes late. The grey-haired man let out a huff, glanced at his reflection in the windows, then fixed his worn-out brown hat.

"Good morning, Mr. Ollivander! Aren't you opening today?" Miriam Dolloway asked, lips already pouting because she won't be there to turn the sign opened for Mr. Ollivander like she did every morning.

The man chuckled, already knowing the reason behind her pout. Unfortunately, he was already running late. "I'm sure Pandora will let you turn the sign."

"But what if she doesn't?"

"I'm sure she will."

"But she hates me!"

Ollivander was already gone. She could only hear his cane clacking in the distance. The short-haired girl sighed. Pandora was very intimidating to her. She rarely spoke to anyone, only whispered things to the old man and disappeared in the back of the shop. Miriam thought she was gorgeous, but something about her behavior was off. Her last name alone was a warning to stay away.

Too lost in her thoughts, she failed to hear the door of the shop being opened. Pandora saw the girl, and immediately remembered why she was there. She left the closed sign hanging but didn't call the girl to turn it. Instead, she searched for Mr. Ollivander who didn't inform her about him being absent today. No notes were left on the counter or the boxes.

"I think he left something under the doormat."

The black-haired girl turned around towards the door, surprised that the younger one decided to talk to her first. "Thank you."

Miriam's eyes never left Pandora's figure. She was like one of those mysterious women she'd read about in her favorite books. The type of a woman who hides a big secret and ends up being a princess, or even a queen. Her sleek black hair was falling on her back, bits of it around her face collected at the back of her head and held by a blue butterfly hairpin. A sharp black line decorated the corner of her eyes, along with occasional blue eye shadow. It wasn't only the last name that made people keep their distance from her. It was the perfection in her looks and her perfect posture that made her so intimidating.

"You can turn the sign, you know," she said without looking at her.

Pandora wasn't intentionally mean to the girl. She wasn't even mean. She just didn't feel the need to speak to anyone unless it was necessary. Creating unnecessary small friendships and having to greet everyone in the street with a forced smile seemed like a lot of work. Small talk is one of the few things she loves to avoid. She isn't the kind of person who doesn't care about anything. She will gladly help wherever and whenever she can, but she refuses to attach herself to anyone or anything. That's simply how she has been living for three years now and she saw no problem in it.