"You remind me a lot of this angel I met once," he said, "If angel is the right word. She was a reaper, too, I guess. She was watching over a close friend of mine, who'd been injured. I tried to tell her how to do her job--or not do her job--and she about set me back on my spectral ass."
He smiled a little, almost laughing at the memory of the reaper, and how she informed him in no uncertain terms that she was going to protect Father Forthill's right of passage, even from the good intentions of meddling friends. Of course, she had been waiting on certain outcomes, and thanks to the actions of others around them, Father Forthill was able to be taken to the hospital in time to save his life. But it all just went to show Harry that he didn't always know best.
"Feisty lady, she was. I bet you don't take any flak, either."