Disclaimer: I do not own the owned!

Author's Note: After reading a number of Powerful!Harry stories, this plot-bunny got stuck in my mind and literally begged a fanfic of its own. I was forced to write it and this is the result. Hopefully, it's not too painful to read as this is something rather new and different I'm attempting here. Unfortunately, I don't quite know where I'm going with this.

However, I have the first half of the story (approximately) planned out. Also, before anyone asks this is a solid HarryXHermione story. There will be some slight character-bashing but nothing too serious as I'm pretty bored of that cliché. So now without anything more to say and without any further ado, allow me to present you with my latest humble offering to the Harry Potter fandom!

Prologue: A Potter Predicament

Fate had just sat down for an afternoon cup of tea when she was interrupted yet again. Someone had snapped her out of her reverie, by a fierce pounding on the door. Growling in frustration, she set her mug of steaming green tea on the coffee table and stalked to the door clenching her fists to keep from lashing out at the intruder.

For if anyone needed a break in these trying times, it was Fate. She had had so many complaints from dead souls of Wizards and Muggles alike that it was driving her near insanity. Everyone was entitled to some good old rest and relaxation, so why not her? Why did she always have to suffer from the Creator's negligence?

Her sister Destiny and her brother Doom had things well in hand, and they promised to keep an eye on the Universe for her while she took a short break from her duties. Ever since the first Blood War had ended in the United Kingdom, she was finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel so to speak. It looked like maybe, maybe she could relax for just once in her exhausting existence.

But no! It looked like the Creator had it in for her, or maybe the Destroyer did. Whatever the case, she could not drink her cup of tea just yet for the pounding on the door threatened to blast the plank of wood to splinters. Of course, she could have had the most powerful wards protecting her home due to her line of work. However, she preferred to do things the Muggle way as it was less complicated than magical folk.

Or so she thought. Boy, was she in for a nasty surprise! Bracing herself, Fate took a deep breath and flung the door wide open ready to unleash a tongue lashing that would make a Howler pale only to freeze in surprise. Her eyes widened to see a very angry friend and colleague of hers – Death. The old man was wearing his traditional attire of a midnight-coloured cloak over his head, dressed all in dark leather, dragon-armoured boots, and clutched a smouldering pitchfork furiously.

Normally, Fate would never have any reason to fear Death. They were actually pretty good friends although they got into arguments at times over the Laws of Nature. Still, it had never gotten out of hand and usually stayed within the boundaries of a friendly debate. But this time, Death looked like he was seething with rage. He appeared to be ready to kill someone and when the God of the Dead, the Lord of the Underworld, was out for blood that didn't quite paint a pretty picture. So shocked and alarmed was she, that Fate actually took a menacing step back.

Finally, she gathered a hold of herself and gave herself a mental shake, berating her wits for fleeing her when she needed them.

"What happened now, old friend?" Fate asked, with a weak chuckle. "Did those Muggles start up World War III already or something? What's wrong?"

"Not funny," Death growled, and Fate shuddered inwardly to see his eyes flash with anger.

Okay, something was seriously wrong. What the heck was going on here?

"Talk to me, Death," Fate said softly, squeezing her colleague's arm soothingly. "What happened?"

Death took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, visibly relaxing under her touch. This was strange, for Death never showed this much emotion and that he let it all out for her of all people was very peculiar and worrying.

"They killed him," Death growled, startling Fate out of her reverie.

"What? Who?" Fate asked sharply.

If Death was mad at someone for killing someone they weren't supposed to kill at the time they killed him, then things could get ugly to put it nicely. Fate shuddered to think of what would happen if she didn't sort this out here and now.

"Who died, friend?" She asked in a calm and even voice, rubbing Death's arm.

Death groaned in frustration and allowed Fate to guide him by the hand to a plush arm chair close to the one she just sat at. Throwing all caution to the wind, she pushed him down in it gently but firmly. Due to the first Blood War caused by the Wizarding World, Death was having an extra hard time wrapping things up since the war had repercussions in the Muggle world causing all sorts of riots, cultural clashes, rebellions, and even natural disasters. Sometimes, he worked too hard she thought.

"They killed him," Death scowled, directing his glare at her tea cup.

Needless to say, the frail China cup shattered under the sheer power of the god's wrath. Fate sighed as the tea splashed over her coffee table. There went her holiday!

"Who, darn it?" She hissed, not wanting anymore of this angst from Death.

He could be one tough nut to crack when he chose to.

"The boy, you prat," Death snarled. "The Boy Who Lived!"

Fate's heart nearly stopped and that was a very tough reaction to elicit from her. Not even the Creator had that much luck. What was Death playing at?

"You're joking right?" She asked, trying to crush the panic in her voice. "You don't mean it, do you? This is some kind of sick joke like when you said Harry Houdini died only to scare me five minutes later when he burst out of the water alive and well. You're pulling my leg, aren't you?"

"Why would I do that over this, woman?" Death bellowed, jumping up from the couch. "They murdered the bloody chosen one himself, they did! Curse those Muggles!"

"Calm down, friend," Fate said, although her voice was cracked from shock and disbelief. "You're starting to sound like old Salazar Slytherin for a minute."

"Well maybe the old coot was right!" Death shot back.

Okay, now Fate was beyond worried. She was downright scared.

"What do you mean, the Chosen One was murdered?" Fate demanded, trying to force authority in front of her fear. "Was it the Dark Lord? Did the Death Eaters kill him?"

"Are you even listening to me, you old hag?" Death roared, seriously scaring the living daylights out of Fate. "Harry Freaking Potter's thrice-cursed damnable relatives, the Dursleys, abused him to death!"

"What?" Fate gasped, her hand flying to her heart and her eyes wide in shock and fear. "You mean..."

"Yes!" Death hissed. "I wouldn't be surprised if all the other gods and goddesses, hells, even the Creator himself knew about the runt's death! Do you know what this means? Do you know what will happen with the Prophecy now that he's gone?"

Fate's mind was reeling. The Chosen One could not die. Not Harry Potter. By Voldermort's hand maybe, the Prophecy said as much but not at the fists and malice of his good-for-nothing relatives. She had to change that. She had to stop it. She had to do something!

"Wait!" She cried, punching the air in triumph and causing Death to arch an eyebrow appraisingly. "I have an idea!"

"Well it better be a good one, hag," Death drawled, his voice dripping in contempt. "Because if you don't act now then the world as we know it will come to an abrupt and brutal end, way before 2012 ever comes along."

"Shut up!" Fate hissed, closing her eyes and taking deep, calming breaths. "I'm thinking. What happened to Arthur? Is the Gateway still open?"

"What do you want with that old chap?" Death scoffed, snorting in derision. "He's been gone for hundreds of years, never even came back when England needed him a couple dozen times."

"Well he shall aid England now," Fate said triumphantly.

"How do you mean?" Death asked, his eyes narrowing.

"I shall send Potter to Avalon, to be trained by Merlin, the Founders, and Arthur himself!" Fate explained, her lips curled in a smirk of glee. "The Destroyer will not get away with this."

"Isn't that against the rules?" Death drawled. "I mean, he already died..."

"But you didn't claim him yet, did you?" Fate retorted.

Death froze and then his eyes widened first in shock, then confusion and finally relief.

"Oh, Fate you are a genius!" Death chortled, cackling maniacally. "One of these days you will be the death of me."

"Bad pun," Fate sneered. "So where is he then, where's Harry?"

"Harry's ghost is still at Private Drive scaring his relatives shitless," Death laughed. "I let him hang around for a little while because I pitied the boy and wanted to see if you could fix it."

"Good," Fate grinned, nodding her head in approval. "So should we fetch the lad?"

"Aye," Death said with a wry smile and a sigh of relief. "Let us be off!"

"I just hope the Deacon isn't too pissed about our tinkering," Fate chuckled as they vanished from her home to Number 4, Private Drive.

"Oh, please," Death smirked. "He'll be bursting his sides with laughter when you inform him how you outwitted the Destroyer. Why, you'll be the heroine of the Universe, my lady!"

"And you shall be my loyal sidekick," Fate returned with a twinkle in her eyes, as she watched the ghost of Harry Potter terrorize his obnoxious relatives.

"Sidekick my arse," Death scoffed. "But enough talk, I think the Dursleys have had enough horror for one lifetime and this night will plague them for the rest of their lives."

"Not nearly enough," Fate snapped darkly. "And never forget that, but enough said. Let's take this show on the road, shall we?"

"I'd be more than happy too, my lady," Death replied, linking his arm with hers with an almost feral grin on his face.

And so it was that young Harry James Potter was whisked away from his unlawfully hellish existence, propelled into the haven known as Avalon. He was reluctant to leave the Dursleys and his revenge but was quickly convinced when Fate and Death explained everything (well almost everything) to the seven-year-old wizard, and he readily agreed to become the latest citizen of Avalon. And it was that single choice that changed the future of the entire universe forever!

To Be Continued...

A/N: Dun-dun-dun! So there you have it. Hopefully it wasn't too cheesy and cliché, and I really tried my hardest to make this different as opposed to the stereotypes of this genre. The next chapter will have young Harry adjust to this new world of Avalon and begin his training with Merlin, the Founders, King Arthur, and the Knights of the Round Table amongst others. Like it? Love it? Hate it? Leave a review and let me know so that I can make this story even better yet!