Leave A Tender Moment Alone

Harry Potter stood face to face with Death, and as he had always done he prepared to stare it in the eyes.

But this time Death did not accommodate, its empty eye sockets peering back at him from a yellowed skull.

It would have been eerie, if it hadn’t been rather comical. Harry had never really considered the existence of the embodiment of Death or what it would look like, but a half-naked, blue-skinned, skull-faced man was not something he would have ever guessed. Since he just wore a skirt and some pauldrons, the wizard could see just how chiseled Death’s six pack was.

“So,” he started with feigned casualness, not really sure how to begin a conversation with the incarnation of the end, “you hit the gym often?”

Of all the things Death was expecting, that was not one of them. “Pardon?”

“Well, you’re clearly proud of your body. Whatever you do, it’s working so keep it up.” Harry offered him a thumbs up and the two awkwardly stood there. The wizard tried to figure out when it would be best for him to lower his hand, but quickly realized that moment had long since passed, and so he just held it up, grinning and bearing it. Meanwhile, Death decided to get things back on track.

“You must be wondering why you’re here—”

“I united the Hallows.”

“—but it’s because you united. . . er, well, yes. As you might be aware, by uniting the Deathly Hallows, you’ve—”

“I’ve become the Master of Death.”

“—the Master of extinction dammit, can’t you just let me have this moment?”

Harry held his hands up in apology. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, “won’t happen again.”

“Okay, thank you.” Death nodded graciously. “Now, where was I?”

“Master of Death.”

“Oh, right, yes, Master of Death. Of course, since I am an incredibly powerful and intelligent being, I wouldn’t just hand out artifacts that have the potential of controlling me. Except that’s exactly what I did.”

“Yeah, I figured that all out already.” And truthfully, Harry thought to himself, having met Death that was starting to make a whole lot more sense.

“That is why it is so important that you give up the Hallows, recant on being Master of Death—”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“—and return to being. . . what do you mean you can’t do that?”

“Well, I didn’t become the Master of Death by accident, you know. This is all part of the plan. I need this power to end Voldemort once and for all.”

That silenced Death, but only for a moment. “Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort. Ah! Now I remember, that’s the chap who’s running around and causing all that mischief, yes?”

“If by mischief you mean sowing terror and murdering anyone he feels like, then yes, that’s him.”

“Hmm, yes, I know the lad. Been meaning to get around to him for a while now, but something always comes up.”

Harry’s playful demeanour changed, and Death could feel a shift in the air around them. It seemed electrified, charged with power and a hidden menace. “What do you mean by that?” His voice was low.

“Erm, well,” Death tugged at the base of his hood hoping to alleviate some of the tension, “You know how it is. Sometimes you go somewhere and by the time you get there you’ve forgotten why you even went in the first place. Then right as you arrive back at home you remember, but who wants to make that trip again, so you just say, next time. It’s like that.”

“You mean to tell me,” Harry began, his eyes shadowed, “That Voldemort should have died a long time ago, but because Death was too busy frolicking around in his skirt, good men and women were killed instead while attempting to stop this madman. This dead man walking.”

“It’s pteruges armour, not a skirt! Besides, what does it matter. I’ll get around to it eventually. Tomorrow or in a hundred years, it’s all the same in the end.”

It took everything he had not to blow up. Several deep breaths and a count to ten later, Harry had stopped visibly shaking with his rage. Still, this would not do. There would be consequences

“You know what, Death? You’re fired.”