Author's Notes: This is the start of a collection of one-shots featuring different kinds of Harry's: male, female, immortal, child, etc etc.

Tags: Master of Death! Harry, Death (character), Female Harry

The sky was dark and dreary, much like Harry Potter's mood. Eleven years after the end of the war, and here she was sitting on a bench in a small little park in Surrey. Just several hours before, Dudley had called her on her cell phone, asking her to come visit at her earliest convenience. She had promptly decided to go, considering that she had nothing to do anymore now that Teddy, her one and only thing that kept her functioning since the war, had gone off to Hogwarts (a Hufflepuff just like his mum). The twenty eight year old woman sighed, raising a hand to run through her long black hair. Hermione and Ginny had finally had enough of her hair before locking her in Ginny's room and hadn't let her out until they had managed to tame it, four days later after spending galleons upon galleons on potions and hair straightening charms. Even if at the time she had hated it with every fiber of her being, she was happy having hair that actually did what she wanted for once.

When she had arrived at Dudley's home at two in the afternoon on a Tuesday, he had opened the door before sweeping her up in a hug (sometimes, she was still amazed how she held no animosity for him but then this side of him would show and she would quickly forget about their difficult past). "Come in! Come in!" He ushered her in, closing the door behind her before motioning for her to sit down on the settee. "Want tea and biscuits?" He busied himself into the kitchen, making Harry blink slightly at the nervous energy he seemed to exude from every fiber of his being.

"Tea please, thank you." she murmured, watching with careful eyes as she sat down on the couch, wincing as a loud crash came from upstairs before the sound of running feet made their way down the stairs and a blur of dirty blonde whizzed by before the little girl who was her niece made a running leap into her arms. Harry just barely managed to catch her, though with her sudden weight, it knocked both of them back into the couch.

"Auntie Harry! Auntie Harry! I did magic! I did magic!" The seven year old cried out, blonde curls bouncing as they practically vibrated in excitement. Harry laughed in delight, always excited to see her little niece who just adored her.

"What kind of magic did you do, Leslie?" The witch asked, raising one eyebrow in question.

"I made Daddy float!" The child exclaimed proudly, sending a happy look at her father who had just walked in with the tea. Harry's eyebrows rose in surprise, glancing at Dudley and receiving a nod in answer.

"She did, had me stuck to the ceiling for a good twenty minutes." He sat down, wearing a smile full of pride.

"How did Charity take it?" Harry asked, letting Leslie play with her hair. Charity was the young woman who Dudley had ended up marrying, and while she seemed nice, Harry wasn't sure how she would react to her daughter having magic, especially while pregnant with their second child.

"Came home from grocery shopping and just laughed it off. She tried for a few minutes to get me down. She is at a friends right now, having tea." He added at Harry's unasked question.

She nodded once, taking a long look at Leslie, "Are you excited about getting a brother?"

"Yes! Yes! I'm going to be the best big sister ever!" Leslie jumped out of her Aunties arms, twirling around once more in the living room.

The desperate, pain-filled cry of "Mommy!" jolted Harry out of her thoughts as a little boy sat several feet away, with a skinned knee. She sighed, sitting up straight on the wooden bench. The young woman raised a hand to her eyes, rubbing the bridge of her nose, pushing her square black glasses - an amazing upgrade from her round thin wire glasses - up at an awkward angle. The depressed feeling started sinking back into her, making her entire body down to her bones feel sluggish. She felt no will to live - hadn't for a very long time. All because of three inauspicious items that had molded together and formed a very familiar brand on her chest, right above her heart.

Her glamour failed for a moment, revealing a seventeen year old face before it strengthened again. It always seemed to falter when she was particularly upset and the fact that she had stopped aging the moment her hands had been in the possession of all three items always upset her. Master of Death - unable to die. It was absolutely horrid. Never being able to be around her family, never able to hug or relish in her parents or Sirius' teasing again. It pained her, tugged at her heart, knowing that it wasn't in her future to ever see her family again.

The loss of never dying, the hiding of her real age from her friends and family was so hard. Hiding it from Hermione and Ron was hard but not as hard as she had expected. The two had immediately gotten wrapped up in each other, both relishing the other surviving the War and Harry couldn't fault them for finding themselves lost in each other. But it left her feeling slightly pushed away, though, the fact that they already had their kids who were just a year or two away from going to Hogwarts always surprised her. It seemed like time just flew by, without her even realizing it.

Her eyes shuttered close for another moment, soaking in the sunlight. It was the sudden silence, of children no longer playing, of birds no longer chirping that had her eyes opening to the sudden stillness of the world around her. Everywhere she looked, everything was frozen in place. A child frozen in the air from jumping off the swings, a mother chasing down a runaway toddler, a flock of birds flying in the air. Nothing moved except for the sudden appearance of a covered entity, gliding along the sidewalk. The healthy green grass withered and died as Death passed by. Harry watched in silence as it neared, a cold chill rising in her bones that couldn't immediately be shaken. In a way, it reminded her of Dementors, of how it made her feel like she would never feel warmth again in it's presence. The dark cloak obscured anything remotely identifiable from view, the tattered ends billowing around itself in a manner she had seen only once before, in a bitter man named Severus Snape.

Harry let out a deep sigh, turning to stare ahead, refusing to acknowledge it as it glided closer before stopping just in front of her. "My master," it's voice was gravelly and almost like sandpaper on skin, unnatural, "I hope my gift has been well received."

"Gift? More like curse." She muttered, leaning back against the bench seat, crossing her arms in frustration.

"Many have sought my powers but only one gained what they could not."

"So cryptic, Death, so original." The witch rolled her eyes, looking not the least bit amused.

"Perhaps, but you may find that my gift shall be a blessing in disguise." With one fluid motion of its hand, a scythe was produced, standing taller than even the figure of Death itself. "I have a mission for you, one that should you complete, I will reward you with something you desire." It gave a sharp cackle, "But first, my quest you must finish, a test if you will. For each stage that you achieve, a power unlocked will be yours."

"Wait, what? I didn't sign up for any stupid test!" She exclaimed, jumping up out of her seat in outrage.

"Too late, it's done. Our words casts the spells that bind us. You shall find that with each level you progress, a hint, a guide will await you if you know where to look." The scythe was raised above it's head before with one swooping motion, sent it careening toward the ground, slicing a large rip in the very air between them. "Worry not, my dear little Master. You shall always arrive with several things available to you. My three gifts, your wand and the knowledge that 'Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.'"

Before Harry knew something happened, she felt a force behind her shove her into the void, sending her careening away from her world. Blackness covered her vision as the void closed behind her, cutting off her one escape route. It seemed that she would have to play Death's little game in order to escape. The question was, where the hell was she?