Chapter one

Harry floated painlessly in Death, finally free of the pains, the burdens, the demands the Wizarding World had heaped on him. Voldemort had killed him, just as Dumbledore had planned, and though Harry bet the old man was counting on him somehow returning to life, the teen had no plans to do so. if he lived, no doubt the Weasleys or Granger had their marching orders to kill him and persuade the Wizarding World that he would turn Dark.

Suddenly, he felt air hit him, along with a rush of pain as he felt his body change and what was that about, and then he was being cradled as someone sobbed into his hair. "My Son…Oh, my sweet son…"

An hour later, Harry was sitting in a comfortable chair next to a fire with roaring flames, staring at the twenty-ish year old woman opposite him in shock. She had his emerald eyes and black hair, though her hair was a sleek curtain, and her features were more aristocratic, feline.
"What do you mean, you're my Mother?"
"Exactly that." the woman rubbed her temples, and reached for the table next to her chair, where a glass of something that looked suspiciously like Firewhisky mixed with something else. "Please, will you let me explain without any interruptions?" at Harry's nod she told her story.

"My name is Hela. I am the Queen of Helheim and Niflheim, Daughter of Loki, God of Magic and Mischief. Many years ago-don't ask me how many, time is damn complicated in the Realm of the Dead-I was r-raped by Thor Odinson, now Crown Prince of Asgard-my Uncle through my Father's adoption. I became pregnant...with you. I knew that if you stayed with me, you would be treated as a monster, but I didn't know what to do with you. Then, a new soul entered my Realm. A magical baby, not even out of the womb yet. I...swapped you for that baby, temporarily binding your powers until the day you died...until you came home. Thor was...furious that you had escaped. He searched and searched, but...the only one who can see into the Wizarding World is my Father, and he refused to help Thor, regardless of what punishment was bestowed on him. My rape...It was the final straw for Father, after the treatment of my brothers and I."

"What is my name...Mother?" Harry asked quietly. He believed her-that sort of emotion couldn't be faked. If he ever met Thor, it was going to be extremely painful for the man. Asgardian. Whatever.
"Oh..." Hela breathed. He believed her. "I...I never got to name you, but I have always thought of you as my little Halvar (Pronounced Hahl-vahr) It means 'Defender of the rock'." she paused. "I couldn't watch your life without permission from Father. Would you...tell me about yourself?"
Harry-no, Halvar sighed. This wasn't going to go well.

Five years had passed within the Realm of Death. Halvar was now twenty two years old.
After stopping his Mother from forcefully collecting the souls of everyone who had hurt him, the Crown Prince of Helheim and Nifhelm had settled into life at the palace. By far the best part-besides his Mother-in his opinion was meeting the Potters-James had happily taken up the role of Father again and Lily had slipped into the position of mothering Aunt-, being reunited with Sirius and Hedwig and being trained by dead Wizards, such as the Peverells and the Founders (He'd had serious grovelling to do for killing Salazar's Familiar) and meeting his Ancestors. Borr and Laufey had both been absolutely furious at how he had been forced to live. Odin and Thor would be in deep trouble when they passed into Death. Laufey had taught him the language of his people and how to fight in his Jotunn form (despite the fond grumbles about him being a runt).

However, the Norns had visited about a week ago, and informed the family that The Prophecy still needed to be completed.
There had been screaming, yelling, crying, but the Norns had stood firm, though Urd had clearly felt for them.
"If he goes back, Heimdall will see him! Father is no longer allowed to command who sees his people as part of his punishment for the incident with Thanos!" Hela cried. "They will take him away, hurt him! Please...I beg you, please..."

None of the family had slept since, and if they had, nightmares pervaded their rest.

"I will be alright, Mother." Halvar soothed hollowly. "No matter what, I will return eventually."
"Yes, coming home the same way as one of my subjects!" the Queen sobbed in his arms.
"But always as your son. Always the Crown Prince." swallowing the lump in his throat, he turned to his family. "Father, Aunts, Great-Grandfathers, Uncles. Take care of Mother for me, until I return?"
"You don't even need to ask, Prongslet." James spoke for them.
"Remember, hard, fast, no mercy." Laufey reminded.
"I will rip his manhood off with my bare hands should I get the chance." Halvar nodded. Neither was talking about Voldemort.
"Tell my Son and his Heir that I declare them disgraces to the Throne of Asgard for what they have done to your family." Borr chipped in.

Hela forced herself to release her son. "You will be returned to after you died. Five minutes there-five years here. Call upon your heritage the instant you awaken, and make your way home as fast as possible, do you hear me?"
"I hear you, and obey, my Lady Mother." Halvar swore.
"Goodbye, my sweet Princeling. Never doubt that I love you."

With tears streaming down her cheeks, Hela sent her son to his destination, collapsing in unrestrained grief as soon as he vanished.

Halvar awoke in large, strong arms, which were shaking with sobs. Hagrid. Halvar decided to play dead for a little while longer. he could hear Tom's gleeful voice giving orders-they were heading up to the Castle to parade their victory. Asshole.
Hmm. That was the first time he'd sworn in years. Swearing just wasn't done if you were Royalty or a member of the higher races. It was uncouth.
Oh, and now he was going to have to deal with the Sheeple as well. Wonderful.

"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away-"
Voldemort was cut off by a quiet laugh. "Really now, Tom? That's rather different from what I recall." and Harry Potter rolled out of a stunned Hagrid's arms.
"What-You were dead!" Voldemort screamed, nearly inarticulate with rage, and a little fear. "You! Did you dare lie to me?" he spat at the now cowering Narcissa Malfoy.
"She did not." Halvar refuted. "Mother merely welcomed me home and has now sent me back to finish what was started those many years ago."
"Lily Potter." Voldemort sneered. "What power did a Mudblood have to send you back to die again?"
"None. However, Queen Hela Lokidottir, my Mother, does."
The young man laughed at the confusion on many faces.

"Harry Potter died in Lily's womb. My Mother saw her chance to save me and she took it. I was born to Lily and James, yes, but I am not theirs by blood." he straightened, allowing himself to drop the act of Harry Potter, Chosen One. He stood straighter, looked prouder. "My name is Halvar Helason, Crown Prince of Helheim and Niflheim."
Ignoring the gasps from those who understood what he had just said, Halvar called upon his inheritance, smirking when his armour, rather like his Grandfather's, though with dark purple leather and silver metal, and a hood. His long knives were strapped to his back, and he unsheathed them, swinging in preparation. His looks had changed. Oh, his eyes were still their startling green, his hair the same inky black, though tamer, but his features were more aristocratic and feline, his body that of a lean warrior, his skin paling to alabaster. His now long hair was plaited and coiled at the base of his neck. On his head rested a circlet of silver, etched with onyx runes.

Voldemort paled, stumbling back, for once devoid of his arrogance. He knew those names, those titles. He was essentially facing the Prince of Death. But-his Horcruxes. He still had them. He was safe.
His relief must have shown on his face, because Halvar shook his head slowly. "Honestly Tom, do you think I would allow such dangerous things to be in use? The entirety of this year was spent tracking them and destroying them. I made Mother very proud."
Avada Kedavra!" he screamed desperately. It was batted aside with a laugh.
"Death will not claim me unless I wish it or Mother wants me home."
"Cruc-"
The end of the curse never left the monster's lips. Halvar's blades cut through his chest, cleanly through to sprout out his back. Nagini lunged with an enraged hiss. Her head fell to the Sword of Gryffindor, wielded by a dirty, bleeding Neville Longbottom.

Halvar spared a grin for the young man, and the two turned to face the Death Eaters.
"Unless you want to meet your Ancestors before your time, surrender now." the two laughed when the majority of the Death Eaters dropped their wands, cowered, or tried to run.
Bellatrix however, refused to go down so easily. She screamed, sending a barrage of curses at the two. All Halvar did was smoothly dodge and turn to Neville, saying "Go for it, Nev."
The Longbottom Heir charged forward with a snarl, ignoring his injuries and the Blasting curse the bitch shot to his shoulder. One minute she was screaming an throwing about spells with abandon, the next her head joined Nagini's.

"HARRY!" three shrieks rent the air as Hermione, Ginny, and Mrs Weasley attempted to smother him. He sidestepped them with an icy look of contempt.
"Crown Prince Halvar." He corrected coldly. "Actually, you have no right to address me whatsoever. You pretended affection and love in exchange for money and status. You reported the slightest thing to Dumbledore. You planned to drug me and have a Potter Heir conceived, kill me off, and take the fortune for yourself. You drugged my food. Did you really think I was fool enough not to notice? You three and Weasel won't see a penny of my money." suddenly, he saw Fred's fallen body and, with a sharp inhale, moved to kneel beside him, placing a hand on his forehead, closing his eyes. He opened them as he moved to look at a stricken George. "Mother has him. He is currently with Prongs and Padfoot planning Pranks for whichever of us gets there first."

Suddenly, his head jerked up at the ominous rumble of thunder. Scrambling to his feet, he darted over to Neville. "Listen. I consulted with Father-James-and we both agreed that the Longbottom Family would be the best Regents for House Potter. Siri also agreed the same for House Black. I'll get in contact when I can. Kreacher has a copy of what we ask for you as Regent for both Houses. If I die, I name you my Heir. If you die before I, I name your children or Luna my Heir. Stay safe."

Then he ran.
In his heart, he knew he couldn't outrun a storm. Especially not one fuelled by a powerful God. But still.
He was nearing the gates of Hogwarts when he was barrelled into by Thor. Halvar refused to be taken easily, however- he bit, scratched, snarled when he was thwarted from his Long Knives.

Thor grunted as he struggled with the boy, who was about as hard to pin down as Loki, and equally as vicious, it seemed. Finally, he wrapped a hand around the graceful throat, forcing all the boy's efforts to concentrate on breathing, as he reached to a fallen gate nearby and, wrenching away a piece of railing, wrapped it around the wrists of the boy, allowing him to subdue him with ease. Hefting his captive against his body with one arm, he set off in the direction of his home on Midgard, and the one person who would likely be able to calm the boy. Avengers Tower.