You, as Death, ancient and omnipresent, find yourself in the throes of pregnancy. death is a man

Harry, seeking solace away from his fangirl, finds passion in your concealed embrace, leading to this unforeseen consequence.

Amidst the shadows of the Underworld nursery, you silently labor, birthing an unending lineage, while Harry remains oblivious.

Harry: "Something feels amiss. I sense a new form of magic at work here."