Death, much to Harry’s surprise, was a woman.

She was tall, almost as tall as Professor Lupin had been, yet still wore a pair of black shoes with a two-inch heel. She was dressed in a dark blue suit, a jacket with its matching skirt, and had a black purse hanging off her arm.

The wrinkles on her face spoke of lifetimes Harry wanted to know nothing about, her grey hair was cut into a bob and her pale blue eyes were anything but kind. A pair of pearl earrings, complemented by a matching necklace, reminded Harry of Aunt Petunia.

“Potter,” Death said. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”