Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its Characters. They are all property of J.K. Rowling in which I am merely using to create my own story. This will be the only disclaimer for this story. This story was inspired by the many time-travel Harry stories that I've read on this, I cannot name them all or we'd be here forever. Furthermore, the title for this story is inspired by Lord of the Rings and I acknowledge that it is property of Tolken. This is a rewrite of the original Return of the King that I wrote years ago, updated with a better plotline and timeline – as well as some proper character development. It will also become a Harry x Harem story.

WARNING: MASS CROSSOVER – Marvel, Dc, Religious, Animes, etc.


Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot groaned as he clutched the wound on his side. His opponent, Mordred stood above him, both heavily wounded and the battle around them raged. Camelot, a one prosperous magical city now lay in ruins.

"It is over Arthur," Mordred smirked.

"Maybe, but one day, Excalibur will find the new King and he will bring peace to Britain. Lancelot is on his way, you and your army will fall to his. The Knights of the Round Table will live on in legend if it must."

"It is a legend I intend to extinguish," Mordred raised his blade to deliver the final strike.

However, Arthur suddenly shot up, his rusty sword tore through Mordred's armour and pierced his gut. Mordred looked at Arthur shocked.

"We're both going to die Mordred, you have failed. I may not have Excalibur, but I don't always need a blade forged in Dragon's fire to defeat my foes," Arthur drew his last breath, the world around him fading with the last thing he saw being Mordred's body falling to the ground.

"Ghuh!" Arthur shot up in a coughing fit, his eyes blinded by the immense amount of light surrounding him.

"Mr. Pendragon, calm down," a voice said sternly.

It took a few minutes before Arthur could actually see the room he was in, the letters B.S.S.S. were engraved in silver against the worn white stone walls. The voice, coming from a well-dressed figure sitting behind a Cherrywood table.

"Where am I?" Arthur asked as he checked himself – no visible wounds on his body.

"There won't be any visible wounds, Mr. Pendragon. You are at the Bureau of Soul Society Services, where the soul goes after you pass on from your mortal life before being reassigned to a new life cycle."

"What's a Bureau?" Arthur found the word foreign to him.

"Put simply, Mr. Pendragon, we are a House of people which provide a service. Our service, is sorting out souls and sending them off to their new life cycles. Are there any more questions? I am quite busy today and don't have an eternity to spare on one King's Questions," the figure sounded annoyed.

"Why am I here?"

"That is the million-galleon question, isn't it?"

"What's a galleon?"

"Nothing to worry about – now, my boss has flagged your case as being special. You can of course, choose to move on, only after you hear out our offer. It is within your best interest and for that of Britain itself," the figure opened a large tome on his desk and turned it around, gesturing for Arthur to sit opposite him.

The King of Camelot sat down, finding the hard-wooden chair to be surprisingly more comfortable than expected. In front of him, the tome started to play images, things he couldn't comprehend. He saw alien outfits on men, women, they were sending lights out of little pieces of wood. But what caught his eye was a dark-haired boy with emerald green eyes, much like his own.

"That is Harrison Potter – the last heir of the Pendragon, Emrys and Le Fay bloodline. Your future descendent." He now had Arthur's full attention.

Harry Potter entered the grove in the Forbidden Forest where he knew Voldemort and his followers were waiting for him. He had come alone, as directed, he has made his peace with his Parents, Remus, Sirius, Tonks & surprisingly Cedric Diggory.

"Harry? No! What are you doing here?" Hagrid struggled in his chains.

"Quiet," a death eater snarled and struck Hagrid.

"Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, come to die… Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort hissed, the Green Light of the Killing Curse struck Harry in the chest and the lights faded from his vision in an instant.

Where am I? Dead. Huh, so this is what being dead feels like? Harry thought to himself. He was standing in a white room, too white almost, and could see the letters B. S. S. S. engraved in silver on the pale graphite marbled wall with the words 'Bureau of Soul Society Services' underneath them in an equally stunning gold contrasting the silver. Not exactly the colour scheme he would have picked.

"Ah, Mr. Potter right on time as expected, please come this way. The big boss wished to talk to you regarding your options," a well-dressed figure spoke up, her voice was calm and posture was upright – yet, her face was obscure.

"I have options?" Harry found himself asking curiously, naturally falling into step behind her as she led him through the various halls of... the afterlife? He guessed.

"You are at the Bureau of Soul Society Services, this is where a myriad of souls come before they are reassigned to a new life cycle – many have options available to them, some don't and others well… let's not go into that for the moment," she replied before stopping at a door which appeared to be made entirely out of blue-stones, with golden runes engraved on them in… Norse? Or was it Celtic? He really should have taken Ancient Runes instead of divination.

"This is where I leave you, Mr. Potter. And please, do not say anything that would anger the boss. Topics such as their appearance is off limits if you don't want to be spending the rest of eternity in oblivion," she said before opening the door and entering with Harry close behind her.

"Your majesty, Mr. Potter, as requested," she bowed, Harry followed suit, awkwardly.

When Harry actually looked at who was behind the desk, he almost lost his breath – if he could, he was dead after all. Her hair was platinum on her right side while her left side had a very distinctive black. It was like she was split right down the middle, her entire right side was covered in a pale complexion, with golden glowing symbols tattooed to her skin. While her left side was a dark mahogany, with glowing purple symbols. The dress that hugged her curves was split in colour as will with the right side being white and the left being black. But what really drew him in were the eyes, the right eye was a deep purple while the left side was a rich gold – a beautiful set of heterochromia irises.

"Are you done staring, Mr. Potter?" she asked and Harry shook his head trying to re-centre himself, he was facing one of the most beautiful… beings? He has ever seen.

"Sorry it's just…"

"So much to take in, yes, yes, I get it. Now sit," she waved her hand and Harry found himself in a chair seated at her desk.

"This is your case file; it details all the events that happened. However, as you can see the red marks are where things were supposed to happen but never did happen. There is quite a large amount of red on your file don't you think?" she stated and Harry did notice the number of red tabs that went through the sizeable file? It looked more like an ancient tome than a file.

"Looks more like a tome than a file," Harry couldn't help himself, the response he got sent chills down his spine. The annoyed glare she gave him felt like his heart was being crushed in his chest.

"I'm going to simply explain everything to you in a way someone as uneducated as you will understand. Now, as you can see you were supposed to grow up with both of your parents."

"Wait, what?" Harry stated

"Don't interrupt me!" she snarled and the entire room shook, causing Harry to shut up immediately and even apologise.

"As I was saying, a certain Wizard meddled with that and caused both of your parents to be killed, furthermore, in the case of their deaths you were supposed to go to one Alice and Frank Longbottom, but thanks to the very same Wizard both you and young Neville ended up as you did. You an orphan and he, under the care of his grandmother. After which you would have gone to Sirius Black, but you didn't, yet again thanks to the meddling of the same Wizard. After that, you were supposed to go to Andromeda and Ted Tonks, to grow up with their daughter Nymphadora as your sister, but of course that didn't happen because the damn Wizard sealed your parents will. If you couldn't go to Andromeda and Ted you were to be raised with Susan Bones under the care of Amelia who was a good friend of your mother's. But as stated, the will was sealed and you were sent to the place where your parents specifically stated you were not to go to. Thanks again to who?" the woman asked and Harry had to take a few moments to actually piece together the information.


"So, the monkey can learn. Good job!" she said sarcastically.

"Hey! I'm a lot smarter than you give me credit for," Harry protested.

The woman raised a dark eyebrow at him before she waved her hand over the tome and the pages flipped until it landed on his O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. results.

"You call those results smart? Mr. Potter, you are quite an amazing individual. No, I can see that you have the potential to be one of the best. However, your lacklustre performance during school and your willingness to make yourself stupid in order to satisfy your Weasel's ego make you an idiot."

"Hey! Ron's not a Weasel," he protested, again receiving the same cold glare that sent shivers down his spine. God this person was insanely scary and creepy – scarier than the latter, why would she be the big boss around here?

"Now if you had grown up in the places you were supposed to, you would already know and be knowledgeable in magic and we may have been able to have a decent conversation when you passed at an old age. However, those pitiful mortals mistreated and abused you, then given the magical blocks that have been placed upon you, your maturation was stunted greatly. This led to you appearing as you do now instead of how you were supposed to, it also led to you being affiliated with that absolute banshee Weasel and her two youngest who are not who they appeared to be. Molly and the meddlesome Wizard wrote up a marriage contract that gave them all the wealth that the Potter and Black families had due to you and Ginevra being in the contract, which, now since you've died, they get. Weasel, gets to use your wealth for his own gains and the know-it-all gets into the Black and Potter library like was initially planned. You had been played your entire life, Mr. Potter," She scowled as she went through everything in front of him.

"Why did Dumbledore fuck over my life?" Harry asked, he was frustrated and shocked.

"Because he has a god complex thinking everyone should hold their mouths over his shrivelled cock, unable to give up control so that he can push his 'greater good' on everyone he can get his grubby semen drenched hands on."

Harry blinked at the profanity coming out of the… being's? mouth.

"But why me? What makes me so special? Is it just because I survived the killing curse?"

"Why indeed, Mr. Potter. Tell me, did you ever consider taking a DNA or Inheritance test at Gringotts?"

"No? Dumbledore said… That mother fucker!"

"Now we're getting somewhere, congratulations Monkey. You have some semblance of a brain that can function for more than just motor responses."

"What is it with you and always calling me a monkey?"

"Because, your actions through life are exactly that I'd expect from a Neanderthal, and the Monkey is the closest relative to that primitive species. Now that you seem to have some level of intelligence you may understand this next part," she snorted, again the pages of the tome flickered and landed on a singular page.

Name: Harrison James Potter

Official Titles: Lord Presumptive of House Emrys, Lord Presumptive of House Le Fay, Lord Presumptive of Avalon, Unclaimed Kingship of House Pendragon.

Heir Titles: Heir Potter, Heir Black, Heir Peverell.

The rest of the details were ignored by Harry as his eyes were glued to the 'Official Titles' section just underneath his name. He looked at the tome and then looked to the woman who was watching Harry was apparent interest – as if waiting for a lightbulb to switch on.

"Okay," Harry said with a shaky breath – his fists clenched and he was beyond pissed.

"Just okay? You surprise me even more Mr. Potter," she leaned forward propping her head on her hands.

"Well, I'm already dead. So, it doesn't matter who I was, right?"

"That is where you are wrong, Mr. Potter. In any ordinary case, you would be correct. But, did you ever wonder why you were meeting with me? The one in charge, and not one of the regular case workers?"

"Because I'm a magnet for trouble?" Harry offered with a slight grin, he saw her lips curl into the briefest of smiles – a win in his book.

"Very funny, Monkey. You met with me, because your case is unique in one of the extreme cases. The fates have been bitching to the Council of the Dead about you and just how the way you lived your life fucked up everyone's future. Congratulations, Mr. Potter – you are the single being who causes a butterfly effect to echo across the future for centuries to come. The last individual with such an impact on the world at large was the Demi-God Odysseus himself. And he followed the path that the fates and destiny had laid out for him. You, Mr. Potter – have not followed that path, and now I as the head of the Bureau of Soul Society Services, have to suffer through correcting it. Fucking wankers the Council, putting me in the fucking position because I'm the youngest and least likely to shatter souls into oblivion when they piss me off," the ending sentences was mumbled more to herself, yet, Harry heard her anyway.

"I'm… sorry you got stuck with this job?" he offered.

"Save it Monkey!" she snapped – she then waved her dark hand and a literal black door cut itself into the white marbled walls.

Out of the void walked four figures, the one on the far left appeared to be a man in his late 20's. He was wearing ancient warlock robes with golden hems, he could clearly see various runes stitched into the seams of the robe. His eyes were a clear cerulean blue, but Harry could see sparks of electricity in his eyes as if there was an entire storm inside of the young man. His long raven hair cascaded down to the middle of his back and his beard was trimmed to an inch bellow his chin.

Next to him, in full chainmail armour with his soft chiselled jawline and apparently clean shaven – but with stubble, was a knight. Hair braided back out of his vision, a shield with a yellow dragon on it in his left hand while his sword was sheathed on the left side of his hip.

Harry's attention turned to the third individual, she was a vision of beauty with emerald green eyes much like his own – her midnight black hair seemed to sparkle with the stars in it. He could swear that he could see some constellations there. Her cream coloured skin and hourglass frame was covered by a form fitting maroon dress, containing stitched runes weaved through the fabric itself.

Last but not least, the man on the end with the exact same shade of killing curse green eyes. Russet brown hair and a messy beard. He wore a tunic and pants of the finest quality with a golden dragon across his chest. Placed on top of his head was a crown, intricately carved and glistening the rubies, sapphires and emeralds. Harry felt as if he was looking in a mirror, except this man was older and had brown hair instead of his black hair.

"Mr. Potter, I'd like you to meet your mentors before you return to the world of the living. Merlin Emrys, Lancelot Du Lac, Morgana Le Fay and Arthur Pendragon."

"Merlin's balls…" Harry said without thinking, Morgana raised a hand to stifle a giggle, Lancelot grinned and Arthur smiled – while Harry could visibly see a twitch in the older warlock's right eye.

"See Merlin, your name is synonymous with a curse word," Morgana jeered.

"What gives? Why are four of history's most fabled heroes here with me?" Harry asked.

"Queen Hela, you haven't informed him yet?" Arthur asked, his deep voice confused.

"Queen Hela! As in…"

"The Norse goddess of the underworld, yes, that Hela. Arthur, your ancestor is an absolute idiot – so I've been explaining things to him slowly. Kindly shut your pie hole," Hela snapped, the King bowed respectfully which caused Hela to role her eyes.

"Arthur Pendragon will be teaching you politics as well as the uniqueness of his sword Excalibur which you will find in Gringrotts vault 1, he will also be in charge of teaching you what it means to be King – which means you will learn how to handle the responsibilities that someone of your station has. Amongst this you will also learn how to call the Knights of the Round Table to your aid, any member who has sat at Arthur's court will be able to assist you should you need them. Lancelot Du Lac was and still is one of the best swordsman in history, he will be teaching you the way of the sword which you need to know to be able to handle Excalibur. Merlin Emrys and Morgana Le Fay will be teaching you about ancient magic as well as Wizarding world customs as they are the writers of the original law. With Merlin you will learn Alchemy, Ancient Runes, spell-crafting, Arcane magic, Charms, Warlock customs & expectations. From Morgana you will learn Elemental magic, Arithmancy, Blood Magic, Soul Magic & Ritual Magic. Because I have to oversee this shit – I will also be assigning you teachers, you will learn Latin, Celtic, Fae and a few other languages before you go back," Hela explained.

"Go back?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"You're being sent back by the demand of the various representations of fate & destiny. You'll arrive a few months before the first Wizarding War began, where you are to clean up the mess that started there. No doubt I'm going to get shit from the other aspects of Death for the amount of Souls that will be exchanged," Hela rolled her eyes.

"Oh… okay… so… When do we start?" Harry asked and Lancelot grinned and tossed him a wooden sword.

"Right now!" then Lancelot swung his wooden sword at Harry while Arthur, Merlin and Morgana took a step back, all amused at Lancelot's antics and Hela just groaned.