Master of Death.

That was the title bestowed upon the one who would gather all three of the Deathly Hallows. The Invisibility Cloak, the Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone.

In all of history, there was only one who managed to simultaneously hold all three hallows in their hands at one point.

That person was granted an audience with Death and was accordingly given the one wish of mankind- Immortality.

It was ironic that the one who was given immortality would be the one who did not desire it, who despised the very concept of it. Theia Potter had greeted Death like an old friend, only to be rejected out of love.

And it was love.

Death did not dare touch their master out of that irrational emotion that had burst out from their heart at seeing those brilliant eyes look upon them calmly without any traces of fear or disgust.

If they desired her, why did they not touch her?

Perhaps it was out of a fear of harming or tainting the one soul that he fell in love with. Perhaps, like a man having spent his entire life in darkness, would flinch from the burning light of the Sun, and they are suddenly thrown into a whole new unknown.

To Death, Theia Potter was like the Sun. Well- not an actual sun. Suns were rather common actually, and were tiny in the grandness of the rest of the universe. No. Theia Potter was not common. Nor was her existence tiny.

To Death, she was the accumulation of their efforts, an unforeseen miracle resulted from two of their whimsical experiments.

The first experiment had been the creation of the Deathly Hallows. Sure, it was one thing to say that gathering all three would give the gatherer the title of the Master of Death, but it was another to actually realize such a thing. The curse that Death had put on all three objects had made sure of that.

The second experiment had been allowing the soul of a baby, a little girl, to slip through their fingers. It had been a whim. A curiosity. After all, what was one soul in the grand scheme of things. What could she, a little witch possibly become that would affect them? Death?

Oh how they'd been proved wrong.

When Theia Potter rose again and again, like a phoenix from its ashes, to her challenges and tragedies, Death had been intrigued. By the time she had claimed all three hallows and returned from the dead again, Death had fallen in love.

Theia was like the burning light from above. Warming, bright, and constantly out of reach. To Death, they felt that if they were to touch her, they would crumble to dust.

She was breathtaking. She was beautiful. She was terrifying.

Never had Death felt this way before.

To Theia, Death's avoidance of her was heartrendingly sad, yet she understood. She too, would yearn for them. But unlike Death, she did not fear their touch.

You could say that she was born yearning for them. Yet they would not accept this.

No, Theia was declared off limits, she was to be admired from afar not allowed to touch.

The two continued to flit around the edges of their sight, always keeping an eye on one another.

Sure, they would get distracted by other things from time to time, they were immortal after all, and there was always so much to experience, to meet. But they would always feel that gentle tug on their souls, and their eyes would always fall to the red thread that led to each other's little fingers.