Disclaimer: I do NOT own any of the characters aside from the OC's (if there are any).

Avenger of Magic

Summary: He won their war for them, and lost everything that mattered in the end. Wishing for his own end, Death appears with an offer he couldn't refuse. Now, he's in a dimension where he is the only one with Magic. In an effort to make this life worth anything, he makes a name for himself and gains some allies along the way. But when he finds his new home being threatened, Harry Potter steps up as an Avenger of Magic.

Author Note: Okay, so it's like this… I looked back on my previous HP/Avenger story and I wasn't all too satisfied with what I had written. The first two posts were good, I liked them, but then I kind of strayed off from where I wanted the plot to go.

So… I have created a poll in regards to this story and how you wish for it to progress. Keep in mind the choice of plot choice will affect how I update.

Please vote, decide, or let me know if I am wasting my breath…

For now, here is the start of Rewrite of Avenger of Magic.

Prologue – Too Much

'It's over…' He thought, relieved, 'It's finally over…' He watched with hollow green eyes as the remains of the Dark Lord scattered away, like little pieces of paper that were set aflame. All that remained were the ashes of a madman that thought himself greater than everyone, stronger than everyone and because he thought himself immortal. Only, he had been defeated by a boy so much like the madman, with a different perspective on life.

Harry took the moment to reflect back on his rather short life. Since his first year at Hogwarts, he had been trying to put an end to a potential war, and an evil that wanted to infect and do harm to the world. And this evil, had an advantage that would have allowed him to succeed, he Harry not been there to stop him and fulfil his destiny.

Magic.

Harry now realised that the one thing he loved with all his heart and soul, had the ability of bringing about unlimited and horrifying destruction upon the planet. It was sad that Magic was a power that could be used to destroy.

But it could also be used for good.

'It is not about where we are from or who we are… It is our choices in life that define us.' Harry could remember when his mentor told him about staying true, always believing in himself and making choices that defined him.

'But it's not just that…' Harry thought mournfully. It was because of his choices and abilities in magic that allowed him to win the war.

And it had cost him dearly.

His beloved parents; Lily and James Potter. Having died trying to protect on the false knowledge of their son being the Chosen One for an equally false prophecy.

His best friends; Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. Died in each other's arms while defending other students and aiding him in the war at Hogwarts.

His godfathers; Sirius Black (Padfoot) and Remus Lupin (Moony). Sirius had died saving him in the Department of Mysteries. 'It's my fault… I am so sorry, Sirius.' To this day, Harry blamed himself for the death of his second chance at family. Followed by Remus, who had died shortly after killing Fenrir Greyback, as an act of revenge for him being turned into a werewolf as a boy.

His mentor and Headmaster; Albus Dumbledore, lost his life to the man who had been labelled as a traitor of the Light and spy for the Dark.

His comrades… there were too many to count. His mind turned over at the many names and deaths. He had lost so many that day that their names kept appearing in his over and over again.

Neville Longbottom.

Fred and George Weasley.

Ginny Weasley.

Colin Creevey.

Nymphadora Tonks.

Luna Lovegood.

So many lives fought for what was right and their home. And all of it didn't seem worth it when Harry now had nothing left. His only sense of comfort, no matter how small it might appear, was that one person he knew too well had survived the war.

Draco Malfoy.

No one could believe that there was a mutual friendship between Potter and Malfoy. Since their first official meeting on the train to Hogwarts, everyone assumed that there would always be bad blood and rivalry between them. However, everything changed in their fifth year. Having found Malfoy crying and stressing in the fourth floor corridor. Harry, feeling the slightest amount of pity for his 'rival', decided to talk to the boy and get him to at least calm down. Obviously, Malfoy retaliated and nearly cursed Harry before he simply didn't have the energy to do so and broke down again. Harry sat beside the sobbing blonde, feeling slightly uneasy about the supposed strong and arrogant Malfoy Heir, and listened to the boy.

For the past two hours, Harry listened as the boy cried, and told him about his life and the current position he was forced into. Becoming a Death Eater was not what Draco wanted, and for that, he was fearing for his life and the well-being of his family. Voldemort was asking far too much of the boy, and Draco knew he had no choice. So, after listening, Harry told Draco about his own life, and soon enough, the two of them became somewhat good acquaintances/allies.

It brought relief to Harry that Draco had lived, though he now was known as the last of his house.

His mother had died defending her son, and passed on with the reassurance of knowing that her son would continue to live on to honour her last wish. Narcissa Malfoy, Lady of House Malfoy, was many things and would be known for her prowess as an exceptional healer. But she was first and foremost, a mother. Her dear child was all that she cared about and he mattered to her more than her name and marriage to Lucius Malfoy. She had never regretted turning her back on her family and the Dark in the name of protecting her son. The world could have burned for all she cared, as long as her son remained alive, safe and well.

Lucius Malfoy had died in trying to teach his son the first and final lesson on what it meant to be a Malfoy.

"Family always come first, my son. Never let anyone tell you that power is everything. It is not about power or glory. It is about family and having the power in protecting them. I am sorry that I was never much of a good father, but I did what I had to in order to make sure you were safe. You are and will always be my son, and my greatest accomplishment. You are my legacy, and I have never been more proud. I love you, my son."

Draco would never forget the love he felt from his parents and would always remember their noble sacrifice.

Harry could already sense that Draco would not last. He would fall victim to grief and most likely not recover. And really, Harry had to wonder one thing from everything that has happened.

Was the victory of this cursed, bloody war worth everything that he had lost?

'No… nothing was worth this pain… Not even the survival of the world…' And Harry would never deny that.

Because when Harry looked around, the bodies of his friends, the dark skies, the ruins of his home, he could safely say that nothing in this world would ever be worth celebrating.

Harry Potter fell to his knees in the rubble, his head hanging low in exhaustion and as the shock began settling inside of him. His clothes were ragged, and did nothing to keep him warm. His whole body ached from fighting and using all his magic. It was amazing of him that he was still conscious and moving at this point.

'I have nothing. Everything is gone… All of my friends, my loved ones and home are now gone. What could possibly be holding me to this world when I have nothing left?'

"Yes, what indeed…"

Harry jumped, startled at the sudden reply and whirled around with the Elder wand drawn and froze.

There, a few feet from him stood a man… no, a god of beauty, power and grace. And Harry could do nothing but stare in awe of this being. It stood tall, regal and proud with a presence of supreme judgement that Harry felt understandably intimidated. Black hair that floated around the world, melding together with shadows and darkness while defying gravity. His face was aristocrat and angelic, yet had a dangerous and dark look in eyes of fine onyx irises and striking silver pupils. The being was beautiful and dangerous to Harry and he couldn't help but feel familiar with this man.

"I would be offended if I was not familiar to you, Harry James Potter." The man spoke. His voice was deep and musical like a sad melody. He smiled, gliding forward to stand before the Boy-Who-Lived. "It is certainly a pleasure to meet you officially, Harry Potter. I am Death."

Harry froze stiff at that bit of information, before shaking his head. "Death…" He breathed, hardly believing the 'man', but at the moment, Harry couldn't really find himself to care. "Why are you here? Have you come to…?" He trailed off, an odd feeling of hope swelling inside of him.

"To offer you my sincere gratitude in putting a rather bothersome and mildly irritating soul to rest." Death nodded his head in respect to the boy, his black and silver eyes staring at the boy with a rather pitying expression. "I am not here to take your soul, Harry Potter. I am here to offer you a gift as a show of thanks for your efforts." Death could see the beginnings of shock starting to return in the boy's eyes.

Harry stared at Death with wide green eyes of shock.

"What?"

Death could only sigh heavily, knowing it will take time for the boy to begin understanding his new position in the greater scheme of the universe that Fate has decided to place upon him. It was cruel, and certainly not a destiny Death would wish upon any mortal child. It was truly amazing to see the strength of this one mortal, and still succeed after enduring such hardships. And now…

Harry was blank.

He couldn't think clearly and honestly questioned if he should continue existing at the moment.

Nothing held him to this world anymore. He had done his duty to the world. The prophecy was fulfilled and Harry Potter was free to live his life from a damned fate he had no choice in having. Everything was gone now.

He had nothing.

He was nothing now.

His inner struggles and musings were interrupted at the feel of strong arms wrapping around him. Harry stiffened up instantly, fearing at being attacked and ready to fight. It became instinctual of him to be on his guard when he was being touched. Living with the Dursley's for the first ten years of his life made his body react in certain ways. Whether it was to be tense and ready to flee, or flinch away in fear of being hit or punished. But he didn't need to, as he felt the light touches of warm hands rubbing along his arms.

It was welcoming.

It felt peaceful.

He felt like he was home.

"Such pain and suffering you have endured, dear Harry… From your birth into this world, to standing before me with no fear. You have no sense of self-preservation as of now. You would be content to welcome me as an old friend and make your journey to the next great adventure." Death held the boy close, warming his soul and physical body so that Harry would be able to relax for once in the past few years.

"What am I supposed to do now?" Harry asked in a dead, hollow voice.

"Live on, Harry." Death whispered gently, arms tightening around the small frail frame of the Boy-Who-Conquered. The taller, stronger form of Death could feel the boy's uneven breathing, quickened heart beats and trembling limbs. It was beginning to be too much for the young boy.

"Please… I just want to rest. I want my family, my friends and peace." Harry begged, "I have done everything that was asked of me. I have saved the world, defeated Lord Voldemort and for what? The satisfaction of saying that I did the world a great service and be proclaimed as the Boy-Who-Conquered, or the Boy-Who-Lost-Everything?!

"I have lost everything! At the cost of the world's survival." Harry screamed in rage, despair, and pure loss.

Death merely held the boy to him, embracing the boy's pain, sadness and hopelessness. "The world will know you as a hero." Death commented idly.

"I could care less about what people say about me. I could care less about this world." Harry spat out, clutching onto the black robes of Death, trying to find something to keep him grounded, to keep him sane.

But really, what was the point?

'I have nothing left… Please, Death, take me away…'

"I cannot take your soul, Harry. For it is not mine to take." Death's explained sadly, "You may beg, plead, and cry, but I cannot. My Hallows have chosen, Harry. And it is time I make due on my oath."

"What?" Harry questioned in disbelief.

"I had sworn an oath that should all three of my Hallows come together and were held in the possession of one mortal, I would make that mortal my Master."

"Why would you do that?" Harry hissed, struggling in the tightly wrapped arms of Death. The being ignored the boy's struggles, only holding him tighter and closer.

"I am sorry for the pain you have gone through, Harry. But I will make sure you live a full life in the one that awaits you. Through hardships, you will gain strength. Through strength, you will gain knowledge. Through knowledge, you will gain power. And through power, will gain your desires."

A sudden change stirred in the atmosphere around them, and Harry could feel something was about to happen. He struggled harder, grunting and hissing angrily at the entity holding him. "What are you doing?!" He demanded.

"Make this next life count, Harry. I will keep bringing you back if you should not live up to the standards required of you." Death warned the boy, its eyes observing the boy and their slowly changing surroundings. Death caught the glimpse of red feathers, and smiled inwardly.

"Stop! What are you doing?!" Harry shouted, and felt the familiar tight pressure on his body. Apparition. But this as different from the teleportation he was used to. This feeling he felt was much colder, and far more painful.

"It is time for you to accept your new status in this universe, Harry Potter. After all, as the Master of Death, the adventures you will experience will most assuredly be the greatest… and most entertaining."

Okay, so that's the start. Not sure when the next chapter will be out, but I will do my best to get started on it.

Please review!

-lostfeather1;)