A/N: And now, for no other reason than that I love the song, go look up Girl In A Country Song on Youtube and watch the video, for it is hilarious and true.

That is all.

Metal Wings

Chapter Three

The Underworld was warm. And made up of lots of blacks, grays, and reds, with a pale green back-drop that made it seems sort of like a bad movie.

The massive, three-headed Dog was a nice touch, though.

"Hey, pup!" Hermes greeted the massive dog while Harry eyed it with interest. Something about it made him want to pet it and keep it close, and the dog whined happily at them, all six eyes bright and stubby tail wagging, doggy grins on display. It looked very strange, in all honesty, and not because of the multiple heads and form that was at least six stories high.

It's heads looked like a mix between a Labrador and a Pitbull, while its body was more like a Staffordshire or Bulldog. Its fur was a uniform gray, with just the faintest traces of black brindle. It's eyes were a pale gray, gleaming ominously even while it seemed so happy to see them.

"Harry, meet Cerberus. Cerberus, meet Harry," Hermes introduced; Cerberus cocked all three of his heads to the right and stopped grinning, eyeing Harry with interest, while Harry did the same. Cautiously, Harry stepped forward, and held up a hand; the head on the far left leaned down and towards him, and sniffed Harry's, frankly, minuscule limb, all but sucking it into his nose, before he pulled back. Slowly, the dog heads all grinned again, stub tail wagging, and nudged at Harry with his middle head. Harry cautiously patted his snout, which was bigger than he was tall, and sent an uncertain smile to his Dad.

"Okay, pup, my kid and I have to go see Hades, alright?" Hermes told the dog, reaching forward and scratching Cerberus on the chin, making the dog groan happily. After a few seconds, the dog stood at full height and stilled, still grinning, while Hermes took one of Harry's shoulders in hand and guided the ten-year-old under the dog and through the gate he guarded.

"What was that about?" Harry asked his Dad as they walked towards what looked like a giant castle made of obsidian and lava. "I mean, I don't even like dogs?" Hermes chuckled at Harry's confusion, and wrapped the Demigod into a one-armed hug.

"Ah, my cute little son, but Cerberus isn't just any dog," he declared smugly, and smirked down at the ten-year-old with bright-eyed mischief. "He's a guard dog and who, exactly, is the patron God of Guard Dogs and shepherds?" Harry blinked slowly, before an equally slow, disbelieving grin curled his lips.

"You?" He asked; Hermes smirk turned into a sly grin.

"And who is my son?" He asked; Harry's grin widened.

"Me," he replied; Hermes shook the boy gently with a laugh.

"Exactly, kiddo, exactly, so what is there for you to fear from Guard Dogs? They'll be putty in you hands, my boy, and you do know what to do with putty, yes?" Harry blinked, grin edged with confusion.

"Play with it?" He asked; Hermes shrugged.

"I don't know, I'm a God. I've never dealt with putty, it's why I asked." Harry's grin disappeared into a completely deadpan expression.

"Dad. No," was all he said, while Hermes just grinned at him and nodded at the skeleton-guards decked out in armor, as they opened the large, ominous doors of the castle, before the God grabbed Harry by the wrist and began to all but drag the young boy through the impressive (if slightly tacky, in Harry's opinion) halls, passed more skeleton soldiers, while the God began to call out in a loud, obnoxious, sing-song voice,

"Oh Uncle~! Uncle Hades~! It's me, Hermes~! I brought you a present~!"

"Oi!" Harry sputtered, digging his feet in and glaring up at his widely grinning Dad. "I am not a bloody present, an' if you're tryin' to exchange me for gettin' rid of the scar, I'll kick you so hard I won't have to worry about younger siblings for another century."

"You're so cute when you're angry, I should definitely mess with you more often," Hermes declared brightly; Harry growled as they entered what appeared to be a sitting room/library, with a massive, roaring fireplace and large comfy chairs. A man was sitting there, dressed in a black net shirt over a silver tank top with black jeans decorated with silver chains, much like Harry had seen some of the older 'punk' boys around Surrey had taken to wearing. He had messy, spiky black hair and black scruff that was beginning to turn into a beard. Dark, slate-gray eyes glared at Hermes in mild annoyance, and tanned skin sat strangely, when the darkness of the Underworld should have bleached it pale and clammy.

"What," the man drawled in a deep voice, "are you doing here, Hermes?" He caught sight of the still scowling Harry, who was leaning back against the God's grip. "Oh, and you brought one of your spawn, how delightful," the man drawled with heavy sarcasm, grimacing at the sight of Harry, even though his eyes had narrowed in faint curiosity.

"Now, now, Uncle Hades!" Hermes complained playfully, but Harry had noticed a slight tension to his shoulders, which, in turn, had Harry, tensing, watching his Dad cautiously. It had been his experience that, when two tense and annoyed adults were in a small room together, especially to men, that violence and shouting was on the horizon.

He wanted to know exactly when he should run, and when he should hide.

Suddenly, Hermes was dragging him forward, like he was no more than a misbehaving puppy in a harness, and lifted him up by the sudden grip he had under Harry's arms, holding him up like some parody scene from The Lion King and Harry was Simba.

"I bring you a gift!" Hermes chirped again; Harry found himself sharing a completely deadpan look with Hades.

"Can I kick him?" Harry asked the God bluntly; Hades arched an eyebrow. "This is the second time he's called me that. I am not a presant." Hades snorted and stood from his chair with the ominous twinkling of chains, and glided across the floor in dark-leather steel-toed boots. He caught Harry's face in his hand, and the boy had to silence the instinctive and self-taught (via Dudley and Gang) reflex to bite the God. Carefully, Hades brushed the ten-year-old's bangs to the side, and leaned forward to peer at the scar resting there. After a few seconds, his lips peeled back from his straight, white teeth, and the slate-gray of his eyes turned a gleaming, inhuman platinum. A chill gripped Harry's very being and, instinctively, he cringed back towards his Dad, dropping his eyes and turning his head away, unnerved by the reaction of the King of the Underworld.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," Hades hissed, serpent-like, but Harry couldn't help but cry out and clasp his hands to his ears in pain, as the God's voice had shifted, and become something no human should ever hear. It was like a voice made purely of the crushing power of the earth, the molten core boiling deeply within, the softest edge of roots before they hook onto you and drain you of nutrients to feed their owner, the hardening of precious stones as they're formed, the erosion of stone as time passes, utterly and completely beyond human comprehension, all bound together in a single voice...

Hermes had quickly moved Harry back to the floor, and the ten-year-old had buried himself in the Messenger God's side, shuddering and keeping his eyes shut tight, hands covering his ears in a futile attempt to keep the low, thrumming rage of the God from his ears, from his very being.

"Hades," Hermes spoke, and there was nothing playful or sly or cocky in his voice. Instead, there was steel, covering granite and fire, a warning to calm down or else. And, without a blink, the thrumming power in the room slithered away, like a snake that had decided that the prey it had found wasn't worth the energy, and Harry was being gently pulled from his Dad's side, as Hermes knelt directly in front of him and tried to coax him into opening his eyes. After a few minutes, Harry obeyed, hands pulling reluctantly from his ears, glancing nervously at Hades, who had moved away to gulp a glowing, golden liquid from a shot glass and glower at the flames.

"Though my head was goin' to pop," Harry muttered, shaking himself like a wet dog, shuddering; Hermes smiled hesitantly, eyeing him carefully before his smile relaxed and he pulled the ten-year-old into a hug, which Harry returned, feeling suddenly tired. He sighed softly and, once Hermes released him again, pulled one of the sodas from before out from under his shirt, earning a bemused blink from the Messenger God, who then shrugged and turned to face Hades.

"So?" He asked; the Underworld King grunted, finished off his second glass, before turning and stalking towards them with a huff.

"That abomination," the dark God growled with a hard glare at Harry's forehead, and the ten-year-old fought his instinctive urge to hide from the look, settling for a wince, "isn't a curse but a Horcrux." Hermes hissed a sharp breath, his blue eyes blazing with the same, inhuman light as Hades, turning an ultraviolet gleam that made Harry twitch with the feeling of the air itself tightening, his heart starting to beat too fast. Faster than his uncle, however, Hermes reigned it in, though his eyes continued to faintly glow, and the wings on his shoes came into being to fluff themselves tensely.

"I'll get rid of it, but it's an extremely small fragment," Hades informed them with a dark glower, pacing about the room. "That means that there are more, at least six others. Hermes," he growled, spinning around to look hard at the Messenger God. "As much as I loathe bringing my brothers into anything..." He grimaced and, grim-faced, Hermes nodded seriously.

"I'll tell them," he told the other God somberly, before hesitating. "After," he decided, reaching down and placing a strong, comforting hand on Harry's shoulder as the ten-year-old looked up at him with wide, confused eyes, beginning to feel frightened. "I'll stay here until it's properly extracted." Hades huffed but nodded without qualms, hesitating.

"This will make you feel exhausted, child," the God told Harry coolly, eyeing him. "What you have in your forehead is a piece of a soul, and the fool who dared create it shall suffer an eternity in the Fields of Punishment." At the end statement, an ominous miasma of shadows swirled about the God, and his eyes once more glowed bright platinum, like disks of precious metal held just right under a light, pupils and sclera suddenly looking like the black, blank space of a light with no hint of light. Harry shuddered, and nodded quickly, to show he understood. Though, the idea that someone put their soul in his head left him feeling very...

Violated.

"I won't be able to destroy all the pieces here," Hades continued, crossing his arms over his chest with a scowl. "But, when I take that one from you, I will be tapping into your magic, which has been tainted by its presence... Do not worry, child," he continued with a small grimace at the idea of comforting the Demigod, whose wide green eyes peered up at him nervously. "Your magic is still yours, but I have no doubt you shall find yourself better attuned to battle magic and the darker side of magic. The reason you shall feel exhausted, and most probably pass out, is because I shall be removing the connection that has grown between your soul and that, as well as the use of your magic to at least locate the other pieces. Do you understand?" Harry nibbled his lip, and took a long drink of his soda, staring at it in his hand.

"What'll happen when I'm unconscious?" Harry asked cautiously; the two Gods eyed one another, and Hades arched an eyebrow, while Hermes shook his head, and smiled that special smile down at Harry, who smiled shyly back.

"I'll be taking you with me to Olympus, where you'll recover in my room there, alright?" He asked; Harry nodded slowly, and took a deep breath, turning to Hades.

"I'm ready, then," he told the God, and Hermes took his soda, promptly taking a drink without a single drop of hesitance. Harry would have given him a pouty glare at the action, but he suddenly found himself surrounded by Hades power, and fingers that were hard as diamonds dragged against his scar. A horrendous pain echoed throughout his entire body. It felt like someone was taking every one of his bones and slowly bending them, until they snapped, before trying to mash them together again, and used a shoddy welding job to hold them there.

There was a sucking sensation, once the pain seemingly disappeared, and Harry could barely breathe past it. His mouth, which had been open wide to scream, was now open that way because he was gasping for breath, reaching up to claw at his chest, only to find his hands being firmly restrained by the shadows. He wondered, in a vague, fuzzy way, if this was what it felt like to be water in a tub, once the plug was pulled.

As the sucking sensation became too much, and unconscious hooked its claws in him, the last thing Harry saw was two glowing disks of pure platinum, surrounded by the darkest and deepest of shadows, and then...

Nothing.

A/N: Here, I'm working on the next chapter to For Want of Family, but I'm also busy packing, enjoy the chapter (Tosses chapter at y'all)