The goblins had never seen a child like him.
Eleven years old, green eyes glowing with ancient power, Harry Potter walked through Gringotts with an air of silent command. The goblins didn't dare mock or test him. Ragnok himself escorted Harry past centuries-old wards, down to the deepest vault—older than even Hogwarts.
There, the truth was waiting.
The Potter inheritance was only the beginning. Heir of Godric Gryffindor. Salazar Slytherin. Helga Hufflepuff. Rowena Ravenclaw. The Black family. Merlin himself. King Arthur's blood ran through his veins, along with something even older—divine energy, forged in Olympus, touched by Kratos' fury, Asgardian lightning, and the mutant gene of the X-Men. And as if fate were laughing, Death had chosen him as Master of the Hallows. Not just a wizard—something far more.
And he remembered.
All of it.
The war. The manipulations. The sacrifice. The death. And then—rebirth.
"You're needed," Death had whispered. "As Guardian of the Multiverse, you must return."
He couldn't die. Not anymore. Immortal, unaging, unstoppable. And his first mission: stop Albus Dumbledore before he ruins everything again.
With goblin-forged armor beneath his clothes, a wand carved from Yggdrasil's branch, a handgun enhanced by Stark tech and blessed by Thor, and an airship designed in secret by goblin engineers—Harry left for Hogwarts. But first, a side trip to Isla Nublar.
Because why just inherit a legacy… when you can invest in dinosaurs?