AN: Well now. Do you know what time it is? It is random One Shot time! Everyone's favorite time of the month. Something which quite literally bonked me and Alvor upside the head this week and wouldn't let up until we wrote as much of it as we could. And was it a lot!
AtW: The idea shouldn't distract us too much. But we expect this to be at least a two shot. Power Grid is in progress, however, so we should hopefully update that soon too. However, small warning, I start classes come Monday and my free time shall very, very dramatically drop.
CW: We just ended up falling in love with this concept. We don't usually write crossovers, but between this one and Power Grid we might be getting a taste for it.
AtW: Who knows? Now, on with the show.
Harry loved a good burger.
Mind you, as a young British gentleman, he would admit nine times out of ten that a full English would always be superior when it came to starting off the day. However, he would often see himself developing a craving for the more simplistic, greasy pleasures of life. And one could not get as simple as patty between two fresh buns.
He was… regrettably forced to concede that tenth spot.
Something he would indulge in whenever he swung back to the Americas for a quick visit. Between homicidal warlocks gunning for your head, training against the mightiest of the supernatural world, and his own leisure time - there simply wasn't much time left to interact with his family outside of what he did when hunting or training.
It was regrettable, but Mrs. Hebe would be disappointed in him if he neglected his education and focused solely on heroics.
And nobody wanted to make Mrs. Hebe mad.
Now where was he?
Oh yeah, burgers!
What was there to say? Burgers were simple to make, tasted heavenly and could be made anyway the customer wanted. It was truly one of the greatest inventions of the modern era. Something the magical world hadn't quite caught on to just yet!
Truly regrettable.
They were also the perfect pre-battle snack.
"So, any word on where the furball is gonna pop up?" He asked his companion.
Sitting across from him was an older gentleman, bordering at the end of his youth and pushing towards middle age. Dressed in a simple black button down shirt, pressed pants, and snappy dress shoes, the man had a full beard of slightly greying, and most neatly trimmed, blond hair and a patient contenance closer to that of a butler rather than that of a mythical hero.
"Unfortunately my sources were unable to pinpoint the Lion's exact location. Though I was assured that there would be a gathering of monsters somewhere around this area, Young Lord."
Harry stifled a groan.
"Will you please stop with the formalities, Iolaus? We are cousins. Family! I'm pretty sure my dad used to bugger you."
The raised eyebrow was what made the young lad snort. And not the terrible joke. He promised.
"Even so, I would rather we not have a repeat of the Ceryneian Hind. I do recall the young master got ahead of himself and ended up losing its trail because of that Manticore. Two months worth of tracking, lost in the blink of an eye."
The young demigod felt a migraine coming on. Choosing to take another bite of the heavenly overstuffed burger.
"Will you hold that over my head our entire trip back? It was an honest mistake and we did gain a spoil from it."
Unbidden, the older gentlemen pulled a briefcase from under the table, laying it flat over the top before popping it over to examine its contents. A vast array of collected animal parts marked with both dates and location. Fangs, claws, teeth, flasks of poison and blood alike hanging from both sides.
Harry's eyes immediately zeroed on the long needle-like blade. Their latest acquisition.
"That Dr. Thorn chap wasn't the most pleasant, but he at least makes for a good trophy."
Iolaus chuckled.
"A fine addition to your collection, Young Lord. Unplanned as it was."
"Don't remind me." The demigod sulked.
Really. It wasn't his fault that a giant scorpion manbeast thought to interrupt their careful tracking of the Ceryneian Hind, if anything it was the monster's fault for crossing their path and expecting to come out undusted. It was the least Harry could do to pay him back for ruining his Labour!
How rude could you get? Monsters these days had no manners.
When Harry had come back to the States, he had done so with the clear objective of challenging himself the same way his father had been challenged. To undertake the fabled Twelve Labours and prove himself an equal to the Great Hero, Heracles. Which came with the added benefit of collecting many fancy trinkets and gifts. Spoils which he planned to gift back to the God of Heroes on his birthday.
That is to say, James Potter's birthday.
Because not even Heracles remembered what his birthday had been.
In truth, he knew he was stretching his legs. Seeing how much rope he'd been given to hang himself with. The Headmaster hadn't been interested in pushing his luck after last year and it had only proven to his father that it was time for his son to set out. Sure it was a bit early, but that's why Iolaus had come along. A guide, protector, and insurance that when Harry inevitably got in over his head he'd have a sword he could rely on backing him up.
"Still. All things considered, it shouldn't be overly hard to find."
That was when a group of screaming civilians began stampeding past, shouting about monsters and children with lethal weapons.
Iolaus blinked.
"Young Lord, I continue to be utterly overcome by your sense of timing."
Harry bent double laughing.
"Gods above and below, I'm the Brit but you're the lucky bugger with the perfect deadpan! We should call up Atkinson and see if he wants to do another Christmas special."
"If the Young Lord wishes it so."
Pleasantly sighing, the demigod in question stood up, about to reply with something the teenager no doubt thought was witty. And then, the children with lethal weapons in question came charging past.
"Oh! Hello there, Percy! Fancy meeting you here!"
Almost stumbling mid stride, the son of Poseidon glanced over at the Englishman calling out to him before shifting direction mid run.
"No time! Nemean Lion! Coming!"
Chuckling, the last Potter thanked his lucky stars. With how much shit that came his way, he was due a lucky break from time to time. And this was probably one of his favorites so far!
"Sure, sure! Give me a second. I'll be right with you."
First things first, Harry set the burger aside.
He'd need that for later.
Opening up a mokeskin pouch, the older demigod reached inside and pulled out an American baseball bat. It was a solid piece of ash. Nice and springy. Giving it a few practice swings, Harry gave his hips a playful shake as he got into position and spat on his hands, waiting until the snout of the utterly massive lion came round the corner.
He vanished with a loud crack.
Trusting the Mist to screw with any security cameras, Harry appeared about a meter to the side of his target.
'Oh what a day!' The swing was perfect, coming in at just the right angle for the shaft to collide with the monster's eye socket. 'What a lovely day!' Between Harry's own literally divine strength, the monster's weight and momentum, and the fact the Nemean Lion's skin didn't turn into a fine paste and ablate a good portion of the force, well, the whole thing just suddenly came up short.
The bat in question vaporized, turning into a shower of dust and splinters, the demigod leering in twisted victory, as the air split with a violent crack that echoed loud enough to nearly make his ears bleed. The skin on his hands almost tore, the muscles in his arms screamed, shards of wood ripped through his clothes.
And still he smiled!
Because the Lion's body flipped tail over head, its skull caving in and its brain reduced to pink-grey jelly that violently erupted out of the beast's ears. Its body fell backwards, limp and boneless, without life or vigor, dead before it even came to a stop - pitifully bouncing and rolling across the ground.
Smiling toothily, the demigod dusted his hands, cuts knitting themselves closed. As if they hadn't been there to begin with.
"Did you get it on camera?"
Harry's immediate question was if his friend cum butler cum babysitter had captured proof of his great victory.
"Because that was bloody awesome!"
The hero turned attendant clapped slowly, with all the enthusiasm of a man who had just watched a most exhilarating golf match. Carrying with him the large briefcase and a plate with the unfinished burger. Which Harry promptly took another bite of.
"This makes Number 4, right?" He chewed between words.
He'd been running around nonstop hunting down the original twelve labours, the same monsters that his father had slain during his own time as a hero, as well as the challenges imposed upon him by King Eurystheus. The jerkwad who just happened to be Hera's chosen champion before Jason came around.
The Lernaean Hydra.
The Stymphalian Birds.
The Cretan Bull.
And now, the Nemean Lion.
It was easier to track down the monsters. While the other challenges still eluded him, both his father and Iolaus refused to tell him where to find the Amazons and no one had seen Geryon or his cattle for a while now.
The corpse of the golden lion vanished in a shower of dust, leaving behind an all too familiar pelt. Which Harry promptly tied around his waist as a belt.
"What do you think, Iolaus? Not too gaudy, yes?" Now he was just missing some red, to really show some of that Gryffindor pride.
Only to have the top of his head chopped by the butler's stern gloved hand.
"Manners, Young Lord. We are in front of guests."
Oh right, that. He completely forgot about the other demigods in his eagerness to add the spoil to his collection. Turning to face the group, the Englishman let out a whistle at the sight of two demigods, two hunters, and the odd satyr. But at least there were familiar faces amongst them.
Two, to be exact.
"I'll be a witch's son. It really IS you, Percy!" He rounded on the familiar green eyed demigod, pulling him into a massive rib cracking bearhug. The boy let out a squeak of surprise as he was squeezed like a chew toy.
"H-Harry… Air! Need. Air!" He gasped out.
Before being promptly let go, taking a deep breath of sweet oxygen as the older demigod pat him on the back heartily. Knocking out his breath once more.
"It's been a while, cousin. You really ought to call me sometime!"
The son of Poseidon groaned.
"I'll keep that in mind, Harry."
Glancing at the huntresses, the satyr whispered out a question.
"Does he know monsters can track demigods when they use phones?"
Stopping mid step, the british murder hobo spun in place.
"So." He began. "Monsters come running when I make a call?" Inhaling, he almost squeed. "And they don't realize it's a trap?"
Iolaus face palmed.
"Why did you tell him that? I managed to convince him that anything but a landline wouldn't work for him since he was a wizard."
The older demigod, however, already had started pacing back and forth.
"This is an exciting new development! All the new possibilities and strategies a simple fake signal would open. This would have made the hunt for the Hydra so much easier!" By this point his ramblings had descended into demented mumbling which could be barely heard let alone understood.
"I must apologize for the Young Lord's… enthusiasm."
Suddenly freezing again, the newly minted teenager blinked and then smiled.
The last time the son of Heracles had met with his cousin was when Percy and his friends had literally dropped in on his battle against the Hydra. Something about saving a goat and healing a tree. Given present company, Harry had to assume their quest had been a resounding success.
The hunters, however, were unexpected.
"Hullo Nightshade. I have to admit I'm a bit surprised you're here. I could understand Artemis sending a pair of her girls to watch over Minotaur bait here. But she sent you too? Damn. And Bianca! This is a nice surprise. Haven't seen you since my last stint at the Lotus. Loving the new get up, by the way. Do you think you might wanna retire in a few years? I'd hate for our first date to be our last."
Said newbie hunter had grown a nuclear blush, gasping and trying to form words as the demigod looked her up and down appreciatively.
As if admiring a piece of fine art.
The immortal simply slowed to a stop, her lips trending downwards in a slight curve.
"My Lady hath been seized, Potter. And the villains who hath done this foul deed were in league with the Titan Atlas. Even a boy such as thee should understand why I might wish to aid in her rescue." She shot a glance at the daughter of Hades. "Though I shall not comment on your familiarity with our recruit due to the seriousness of our situation."
Nodding, the brit agreed.
"Aye. She's your Lady and you're her knight. 'Course you gotta save her. Especially if Atlas is involved. He was the most dangerous of the Titans after all. Now, how can I help?"
If possible, the hunter's frown became more pronounced.
"Were it possible, we would proceed in our quest with thy assistance. However, the situation is dire and we are short on aid. Thou art free to follow if that is thy wish." She seemed to struggle to get out the words, no doubt uncomfortable with his presence but unwilling to dismiss him out of hand.
The situation must have been dire indeed.
Harry nodded in acceptance, looking over his shoulder towards Iolaus.
"Make an opening in our schedule, my friend. It seems we have come upon something of great importance."
The older man actually took out a small booklet and pen, writing down what the group could only guess must have been an actual timetable. Staying organized was vital, after all, for an aspiring Hero!
"This is so much freaking fun!"
Harry was ducking and weaving, lashing out with another baseball bat, and smashing undead into pieces.
"You really are ill, aren't you Potter?"
The unnamed Huntress, or at least the Huntress Harry didn't bother learning the name of, looked at him as if he was severely mentally damaged. Something which he'd probably agree with if he wasn't whooping with joy.
"I hath learned it is better to simply indulge the boy. His mind is not normal. Even for a boy."
Flashing a winning smile at Nightshade, the lad in question could barely keep himself contained.
"Being a demigod is just so freaking awesome!"
Sweeping the leg out from one skeleton monster, he lunged forward. Getting his hooks in, he ripped its arms and legs out of their sockets one by one, shoving the jagged ends back into the the things empty skull, and then howling with joy as he repeatedly smashed its skull into the floor again and again and again.
"Young Lord, please stop playing with your food and eat already."
Iolaus simply sighed, darting out with a grey-black rapier, each time leaving an undead warrior a pile of ash. Bianca, herself, was following behind her comrades and slaying downed or disabled monsters. Grover and Percy had contented themselves with making sure Harry wasn't skewered from behind as played with their… normally quite intimidating foes.
Twirling the metal bat idly, Harry shoved it back into his pouch before pulling a different one. This one a beauty of holly, which had a certain aura to it.
'Let's give this one a try.' He grinned wildly as he wound up for another swing.
The bat igniting in flames as it whizzled through the air, hitting another undead like a cannonball.
"Incendio!"
And exploded on impact. Sending the Spartoi, or what was left of it, crumbling into a cloud of tiny bone pieces. Not that the damage would stick, these undead had a unique type of durability, but it was still fun and it forced the monsters to take the time to put themselves back together.
Another one took aim at the demigod with its rifle, only for him to vanish with a deafening crack. The second spartoi stopped in confusion, only to meet the same fate as its brethren when the very same bat hit the back of its skull. The ensuing explosion blasting it into a crater straight down.
"I think that's it. For now, at least. Thalia, you see anything still moving?"
That last huntress, at least amongst those he'd spoken to today, shrugged.
"No. As far as I can tell, that was it."
Harry, however, couldn't care less that the fight was over. Because he'd met a new friend with new powers.
"Holy crap that was awesome! You're just like my dad, aren't you!? A daughter of Zeus, right? That's so, so, so, so cool! I guess that means kids of all the Big Three are gathered here right now." Harry gasped. "Oh. My. Gods. We should have a sparring match! I have got to test you guys! And, uh, sorry for not really noticing you before. I thought you were just another pretty girl Artemis had picked out for her harem. The names Harry Potter by the way!"
Sticking his hand out, the young man's sense of self preservation did not ping in even the slightest of degrees. He did, however, realize something important.
Thaliam, rather dazed by the sheer intensity of the young man before her, shook his hand out of reflex. Because, as the vibrating young man began to break down her powers as he'd seen them, she simply didn't know what to do.
"Potter." Nightshade whacked him in the head with the end of her bow. "Please do not call Lady Artemis's order of Huntressess a harem again." He nodded and totally ignored what she said. "And I shall personally engage you in battle once more, so long as you endeavor to aid this quest to the best of your ability. Do I have your word? Or, rather, do I have your word that you'll not treat this like just another one of your rampages?"
Said demigod rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.
"Threatening me with a good time? You know me all too well, Miss Nightshade." Putting his bat away, Harry gestured to a nearby station.
"Now, why don't we discuss this on the way? Unless you'd like to wait for the skeletons to come back?"
He already knew their answer.
"Harry, no!"
Ignoring the whining half goat, something the demigod was starting to do on principle, the Son of Heracles launched himself at the giant, slavering boar in front of him.
"It's bacon time!"
The rest of his party simply sighed at his utterly terrible one liner.
His foe, however, seemed to understand the word bacon. And take grave offense to it. Because it squealed and charged, throwing up huge clods of dirt and debris at the ten ton porker attempted to skewer the offending teenager. What happened next, could only be chalked up to divine stupidity.
Laughing like a mad man, the hundred and twenty pound thirteen, almost fourteen year old slid across the ground, rolling under the beast, and punching it in the underside of its belly as he did so.
Having had that particular pressure point struck, the boar in question did what any living thing would do when its lunch was violently disturbed.
"Oh Gods Potter! Why would you do that!?"
Coughing and hacking, the yet to be fried Canadian bacon horked up everything it had eaten in the last twelve hours.
Harry, wisely, decided to disengage.
'Okay, so maybe that wasn't the smartest thing to do.'
For starters, the massive beast, while one of his many targets. Was a 'capture only' challenge. No killing involved. There was also the fact that it had arrived to help them, something which escaped his mind given all the excitement and adrenaline coursing through his veins. Meaning he'd committed something of a gaff.
Jumping back, he gave the massive boar some space, instead focusing on the returned skeleton soldiers.
"Why would you do that?!" The satyr bleated in anger.
The demigod shrugged.
"Enthusiasm? You wouldn't believe how hard it is to track that thing."
His honest answer seemed to further incense the seeker, however.
"You meathead. The Boar was sent by Lord Pan. It came here to help us escape, and you just gave it diarrhea!" A small tin can bounced off Harry's head. He'd barely felt it, really.
"My bad?"
"Don't apologise to me! Apologize to the Boar! And to all searchers everywhere!"
Well that was unfair. Harry considered himself to be a pretty good seeker. His team had won the house cup and everything!
Instead, he chose to fight off the encroaching undead alongside his cousin and half-aunt while the goat boy helped the giant Boar he planned to hogtie later get over its indigestion.
'Note to self, stop aiming for the stomach. It's effective, but by the Styx, does the smell suck.' He glanced at his shoes. 'And it can be rough on the kicks.'
"Come on Potter, stop playing around!"
Thalia, "Sparky's Kid" in Harry's mind, was a tad bit grossed out by how green she'd gone. But that was just important information for later. If she had a weak stomach, he could use that when they fought. However, as she called down another series of bolts of lightning, he had to admit that getting close would probably be a bit difficult. But such concerns soon faded, his fist making contact with undead jaw bone.
"So." He started. "You used to be a tree?"
The older demigod's nose wrinkled in distaste, whether by the question or by the smell, he wouldn't know.
"Courtesy of dear old dad, yeah. What is it to you?"
He shrugged.
"Not much. Helped Percy and his girlfriend escape the hydra. Later found out they were after the Fleece. Busy weekend, that was. Not gonna lie, I was tempted to take it for myself, but Percy is a pretty cool guy."
A faint cry of 'she is not my girlfriend' was heard from the other side of the battlefield.
The dark haired girl deep fried another skeleton, rendering it into ashes.
"You are a bit of a fanboy, aren't you? Trying to be like your dad and all."
She gestured to his get up. And he could sorta understand why she'd think so. Wearing the pelt, clubbing enemies to death. Going after the same monsters he did. Really, if Harry didn't know himself he would probably think the same.
"A little bit, yeah. But that's more training than anything. Figured that if I managed to do everything Dad did, I would get as strong as he did."
The idea to redo the labours had been his, after all.
"Though that's really just a start. I mean, he wants me to succeed, but half the time he just tells me to go to school and get married and forget all this heroing business. Then the Queen B gets brought up, he goes off to plot bloody murder for an hour or two, and then pushes me twice as hard in training. Oddly enough, I think we've actually spent more time on poetry and mathematics than I did back in primary school."
Continuing his discussion, Harry lanced out with his fists again and again and again. Each time they stuck undead armor and bone, crumbling corroded iron and shattering tainted corpse stuff. The only part of it that annoyed him was how the chunks of ancient, mostly rotten flesh were sticking to his fingers - flecks of blood splattering against his targets with each strike.
"Not much time on history though. He just summons up dead heroes to explain things to me when he thinks it's important. For obvious reasons he focuses mostly on wars and battles and stuff."
The daughter of Zeus, chuckled.
"Still better than school. I'd probably give it a shot if it was my great great something relative explaining how he killed a monster."
Harry reached into his pouch, pulling out a familiar holly bat. Immediately clubbing the head off another undead trying to sneak up on them.
"Meh. School is fine. But that's because I'm doing magic school."
That brought Thalia up short.
"You're a wizard too? Man, you just have all the cool things going on for you."
Harry didn't disagree. Sure, growing up with the Dursleys had sucked in ways he still couldn't quite express despite knowing two languages and actual magical curses. But the moment his half-giant friend had brought him that letter, he found that life had taken a turn for the better.
And hadn't stopped ever since.
"Oh, totally. An awesome dad, an awesome school, an awesome tutor, who is I think currently preparing tea-"
"You have the situation well in hand, Young Lord. And you do get cranky when you don't have a snack after engaging in, and I quote, 'unadulterated ultra violence, the likes of which would give Ares a hard on strong enough to finally break through Aphrodite's chastity belt'.
Taking a second to consider the proposition, Harry slammed the head of his current enemy… victim… whatever the undead was, into the ground hard enough to explode its skull into thousands of shard and a great quantity of white powder. And then ripping its leg off, smashing another undead in the face with his friend's severed limb, and repeated the process until he had come to a conclusion.
"Honestly Iolaus, I wonder how you know me so well."
The ancient hero simply bowed his head, conveniently ducking a stray bullet fired by one of the Spartoi, and replied.
"You are your father's son, sir."
"So yeah Thalia. Awesome tutor, a small personal fortune after the rest of my family got slaughtered by a magical madman that left me an orphan, and even a couple cool uncles. Who I think are currently in a hospital. Because of the lycanthropy and torture and the demons. But, you know, cool stuff! Oh, I also got to pet a cerberus named Fluffy."
Bianca stopped cold, having just pulled her knife out of the now burning ruins of a skeleton.
"Dad named Cerberus Fluffy?"
"Nah, nah. Cerberus had puppies… somehow. One of 'em is being taken care of by Hagrid. He's a friend of mind and groundskeeper and keeper of the keys at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That's the magical school I mentioned."
Sharing a look, the Huntresses decided that the boy was just a bit too… much. Probably because of who his dad was, and perhaps a small bit of Dionysius's curse being passed down, and communicated all of this silently and with a nod.
"This is so freaking awesome!"
Percy then came around the corner, riding the Erymanthian Boar, and skewering undead with both tusk and spear.
"Man Grover, your god is so cool! I should pray to Pan and my dad!"
It was a very short fight at that point, with only a small handful of Spartoi escaping this time. Thankfully, their weapons, which consisted of a large number of handguns, were left behind along with a good deal of surplus ammunition. All of which was quickly appropriated by the demigods as they gathered around the giant boar.
"I'm sorry, Mr Boar. It was terribly insensitive of me to hit you like that." He patted the giant creature's snout.
Who snorted in annoyance but seemed to accept the apology.
The trip with him was relatively short. You wouldn't be able to tell, but the Erymanthian Boar was a beast of endurance, not speed. It just didn't tire out as it charged down the sand covered road of Arizona.
"Say…after all this is done. Do you think he would like coming with me for a short trip? Just over the lake?"
The group collectively groaned, making the son of Heracles pout.
Well now, that was just rude.
But he'd learnt his lesson. Next time he would be as careful and gentle as possible when capturing the Boar. He had no intention of getting covered with pig vomit a second time in his life.
Charmed or not, that would ruin his shoes!
Having enjoyed their tea, the quest had long since waved goodbye to the boar. And were now faced with a divine junkyard. One that would likely be cursed to high Hades.
"So, I know I enjoy challenges, but why are the rest of you trying to actually go through the magical death trap?"
"Well… uh… we need a new ride?"
"Yeah! And it was clearly Pan's will that we be brought here!"
Looking at both his cousin and the satyr, Harry nodded.
"Cool. We're holding the idiot ball then. Come on then. If we find some water I can send Hephaestus an Iris message and ask for his help. But, uh, where are the girls?"
"Using the restroom, boy. I would not think it beyond you to spy upon us, so I insisted one of our number stand watch."
Miming being struck in the heart, he flashed the lieutenant of the Hunt a lewd grin.
"Come on baby, you know I wouldn't bother peeping. If I wanted a show I'd just ask for one."
As the lad waggled his eyebrows, the immortal chucked a rock at his head, pinging him between the eyes, and bouncing off without Harry so much as flinching. Really, what was it with people and throwing things on his head?
'You know, its almost only pretty girls that seem to hit. Maybe I should do something different?' Taking a moment to consider his actions, he snorted. 'Bugger that. I'm having too much fun!'
Winking at Bianca, and making sure he knew he was just being an ass - as opposed to making an ass of himself - the Brit pushed open the gate to the divine dustbin.
"Well, there's probably a god or something waiting for us in there. One other than the nice kind. Though Hephaestus might be in a good enough mood to let us rummage about if we ask first. He's a pretty cool guy after all. But I think Zoe could tell you exactly what would happen if we tried to steal anything."
The not so young young woman snorted.
"We would die in agony. So, please, do not attempt to take anything."
And that was when a limousine seemingly drove through a warp in space. Parking right across from them.
"I'll be a witch's son." Harry repeated, shocked.
He'd just spared himself a drachma.
"Is that who I think it is?" His eyes gleamed in interest as a massive man wearing a biker's jacket stepped out of the car, his eyes burning like hot coals and aura of anger and hate washing over them like a wave.
"Unfortunately." His cousin growled.
Well, that clinched it.
Harry knew of the story between the son of Poseidon and the God of War. How an eleven year old boy had somehow bested an immortal through wit and skill on his very first quest. It's why he liked his cousin so much. Not many could challenge the might of a god and not get cursed or turned into ashes or fine paste across a sidewalk.
That took guts.
"Who's the runt, Jackson?"
His fellow demigod scoffed.
"Not even gonna say 'hello'?"
'Well now, that's some snark there.' Harry whistled. He had to admit, his cousin was not about to take any crap from the immortal side of the family.
The god's eyes burnt with anger. Literally.
"I'm not here for you, Jackson. Not today, anyway. Someone else wants to talk to you. So why don't you go inside for a chat while I keep your fanclub here company."
A thrill of excitement ran through Harry's spine.
"If you kill them, I'll tell everyone that you keep diapers in your supply bags."
Not even bothering to wait for Ares to threaten him, Perseus walked on, calmly whistling.
Harry, however, literally fell over laughing.
"Holy crap! The god of war, that got his ass beat by an eleven year old standing in a glorified puddle, wears magical diapers!" Rolling about on the ground, the wizard failed to notice how every other person there had gone deathly pale and backed away. Except for Ares. "Oh my gods I'm gonna have to tell dad and mom and Uncle Hades and-"
Ares roared, bringing his foot down in an axe kick that split the air with a crack. So fierce was the blow that the ground under it was smashed and cratered by the combat boot clad limb.
"You know." Harry was crouched on top of the junk yard's fence, barbed wire scraping harmlessly against his skin, as he picked his nose with his pinky. "Everyone forgets something important."
Screaming in frustration and humiliation, Ares unleashed a wave of fire that tore a chunk out of the fencing.
"That speed is a product of muscle strength. And Heracles is the god of strength."
Grunting in pain, Harry leapt forward, arm extended, as he channeled every ounce of divine power his father was willing to loan him. Promptly slamming into Ares's gut with a literal explosion of displaced air and rocketing the deity into a pile of scrap - conveniently propelling him through the freshly made hole.
"And I win."
Hearing this final taunt, the God of War invoking a fraction of his divine power. A raw mass of energy born from millennia of human conflict and suffering. Standing up, the pile of celestial bronze melted around him, flames covering his now black, armor clad body, as the literal embodiment of violence rose from the ground.
The air turned thick and hazy, the mortals choking on the acrid stench of burning houses and rotting flesh as the screams of the dead and dying echoed around them.
The sun turned red, blood covering even Apollo's bright symbol as reality began to run and warp around them.
In that moment, even the immortals fell to their knees, watching in horror as this ancient, monstrous being began to unleash his full might. Only Harry, still smirking, withstood the immense pressure.
"Boy, I shall inflict upon you all the horrors known to Olympus and Tartar-"
And a bronze fist the size of a double decker bus slammed into him from above.
"Thanks Hephaestus!"
Now buried in the pool of molten celestial bronze, which just so happened to be hardening quite rapidly, Ares tried to climb to his feet, chains of the divine metal already surrounding him and binding him. Dragging the now screaming god to the bottom of the pit, the demigods watched on in a mixture of amusement, in Harry's case, and horror, everyone else, as the deity was sealed under a perfectly smooth floor made of freshly shining bronze.
"Thanks Hephaestus, sorry about wrecking your stuff, but I hope you found it amusing enough?"
Waving at the sky, the young man laughed in glee as a few trinkets began to roll out of the surviving trash heaps. The rest of the party simply blinked in confusion as reality returned to normal.
His group's reactions were varied.
Iolaus, as per usual, clapped respectfully.
"A textbook strike, Young Lord. Theseus wouldn't do better himself."
Thalia and Bianca, looked on in shock. Mouths agape in surprise.
Grover… had fainted. Again.
As for Zoe she looked pleasantly amused. As if seeing the reprise episode of a show she didn't know she liked. I think seeing one of the least popular gods of the pantheon getting decked in the schnozz was enough was what it took to get the overtly serious Hunter to crack a smile.
Before schooling her features back into an annoyed scowl.
'Shame about that. She has a nice smile.' The One Punch Hero noted.
Rounding on him, the lieutenant started looking like she wanted to say something.
"I hope thou understands the gravity of thine actions. Ares is not as beloved as other gods. But there are still those who worship him in this day and age. Thine… altercation with him will prove to be troublesome for thou's future."
Harry let out a sigh of annoyance.
"I sure hope so. I've been trying to track that girdle for a while. Maybe now those amazons will finally start coming out to get me."
Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say.
"Is this a joke to thee? Angering the gods, rampaging through whatever ill fortuned bystanders have the misfortune of being in thy path?! This quest is about saving a goddess and preventing catastrophe, not satiating thine ridiculous whims for challenge!"
The son of Heracles blinked in shock. Yet the hunter wasn't done.
"Does thine belief of invincibility run so deep you believe yourself as great and terrible as your father. Thou may be powerful, Harry Potter. But all thine ambition has accomplished is the creation of another Bastard of Zeus! This world needs not suffer through Heracles' foolishness a second time!"
"Lady Nightshade, I don't believe…!" Iolaus made to interrupt her.
To no avail.
"What next, you foolish boy? What challenge will you chase after setting flame to the Amazons? Perhaps thou will seek to repeat thine's father foolhardiness further and free a Titan? Or raid the Underworld out of hubris?!"
Scowling, the young man leapt to his father's defense.
"It's hardly his fault Hera riled up all the Amazonians. And even then my dad only did most of that stuff because the gods forced him! After Dionysius caved to Hera's demands and forced my father to murder his family he didn't seek revenge, he didn't seek glory, he wanted to be purified of his sins. And whatever else he did from then on, he was good to his friends. So yeah. If I think it's a good idea to do what he did, I will do it. No matter what you think Nightshade and no matter what the gods think either!"
There was a tense silence between the two.
Both waiting for an excuse, as small as it was, to escalate.
"What of mine kind, Harry Potter? Those who were left behind in pain in the wake of your father's quest for forgiveness? Does mine suffering not weigh on the scales?"
Grinding his teeth, the teenager bit back the response he wanted to give, and instead decided to walk away and throw his hands up.
"If it wasn't for Annabeth, I'd be half tempted to say that I was done with this quest. I took care of your lion problem, I helped with the Spartoi, I just got rid of Ares and you know he would have tried something. And if you want to wallow in mistakes made thousands of years ago, so be it. But don't expect me to feel sympathy for a spoiled little songbird that was angry the world wasn't as shiny outside of her gilded cage as it was from within."
Eyes that had seen ages flashed with something. Whether it was pain or regret or sorrow or indignation, not even the gods could know, but the immortal grew cold at this insult.
"Thy blood shows true, demigod. When mighty Heracles was bored of aiding those in need, he too quit his quests and took up a toy or ten. Thine wounded pride and lust for victory hath insulted a god and perhaps another two - Pan and Aphrodite, whose symbol and lover you have struck. And all the thought in the world you can muster is to plot the murder and rape of the Amazons. Thou art a knave and a fool and the youth of all the world is wasted in thine folly." Her lips thinned. "Once, I had hoped thee might rise above thine father's arrogance. But if thou wishes to believe I am not but a songbird, I will give thee a full flight of feathers."
Harry flinched, his eyes suddenly a thousand miles away. And instead of speaking further, turned and disappeared into the junkyard, Iolaus looking torn between murdering the Huntress and rushing to his master's side. In the end, after almost snapping the hilt off of his rapier from the force of his grip, he left the immortals and went to the boy.
Nightshade, too, was angry. The immortal child's pride wounded as deeply as the actual boy's. So, grunting in anger, she turned to her comrades and bade them come with her.
Grover alone was left to explain all that had occurred to a very, very confused and worried Perseus upon the lad's return.
Snarling, Harry slammed his fist into a wall of solid metal. He'd sent away a very worried Iolaus already, telling the man to wait with the rest of the group and that he'd be fine.
'Just need to push off some bad thoughts I said.'
"FUCK!"
He roared this time, slamming his fists over and over and over again into the trash heap before him. Even slabs of celestial bronze began to warp and break under the steady barrage he was driving into them.
You see, he had something of a temper.
Harmless thing, more often than not. He would get angry and cool down after a few dozen rounds hitting a defenseless sandbag. There was also the issue with him mouthing off to people on occasion.
He did it a lot.
But as stated above, there were few things that could set off his temper badly enough to warrant it.
Unfortunately, Nightshade had found the right button to stomp on.
Harry knew that some people saw his father in a less than positive light. One of his professors disliked him on principle because of that. Most people, however, didn't know enough about Heracles to have an opinion about the man's deeds. Hadn't met him or even knew he existed. And those were easy to ignore.
But someone like Nightshade. Someone so obviously biased and hateful of the man. She knew exactly what she was saying.
As his son, he'd been told the same stories by the god on occasion.
He didn't care about the less flattering versions of his adventures. He chose not to long ago when he met him. When he saw him for more than just the God of Heroes, but as the man who'd sacrificed himself for him. James Potter.
Someone who loved him.
And so, Harry chose to love him back. To be the best son possible. To prove that it had been worth it. And that after all this time, the lonely god would have someone who loved him back as family.
Was he stubborn? Sometimes.
Why wouldn't he be. Father and son were so similar, after all. Praised by the world as heroes, yet left behind to rot in their special little prisons. To watch by as everyone had everything they could have ever wanted.
Family, acceptance, love. Not even Hebe bothered to stay faithful to a husband that had never strayed from her - no matter how many demigods he encountered.
It had driven Heracles to reincarnate himself as a mortal. Surrendering the godhood he'd struggled so long to achieve. While Harry left behind his life as the Wizarding world's golden poster child to go live on a small island. Refusing to become the savior they dearly wished for
They were so similar it hurt.
'And now I miss him. Just perfect.' Harry sat on the ruined can.
Sulking was another thing he'd inherited from his father. And Achilles. Both his mentor and his sire could brood with the best of them, spending days or even weeks stuck in a morose or somber mood. He too could go for long stretches of time stuck in a rut. Usually what snapped him out of it was ultraviolence. Indulging in his most primal of lusts.
So he'd gone a little bit crazy and smashed up the place a bit. It was little surprise that he triggered what amounted to an alarm system - a massive bronze golem that had risen up from the heart of the place to face him.
"Yeah." Neither boy nor machine moved. "Yeah, you're right Hepheastus. I shouldn't just punch your stuff. I - thank you. Thank you for everything."
Perhaps it was a trick of the light, perhaps the machine really did move. But either way, Harry would have sworn the machine smiled at him. And then it scooped up a particularly shiny piece of debris and tossed it at the demigod with a gentle, lazy underhand throw.
He caught it easily enough. A random piece of bronze junk, easily filling his palm.
The demigod smiled, appreciating the message.
'Thanks for the gift, uncle.'
The Smith God was a personal favorite of Harry's. Mostly because he also sympathized with the man as the unloved child. The freak of the family. He'd lived much the same way for over a decade. Maybe he'd sacrifice something to the guy later. Though he suspected he more than earned Hephaestus favor after decking Ares. At least, considering how the giant was now pushing more and more piles of junk on top of the still smooth celestial bronze trap.
A win-win all things considered.
Wizards.
It just had to be bloody, self righteous, backwards, ignorant, provincial… wizards.
Now, joining in on a quest to rescue a goddess, your cousins totally-not-girlfriend, and fight the general of the Titans was not the first thing on Harry's mind when he woke up that morning. That would have been the transfiguration homework he'd forgotten to finish over the summer.
Which he totally planned to do after he was done killing the Nemean Lion.
… and maybe finding the Ceryneian Hind too.
Anyhow, the son of Heracles had come upon a very interesting challenge, and the fun of killing monsters never really wore out for him. It was par for the course for the demigod lifestyle. The problem was when the other side started cheating.
As in, involving people that shouldn't be there.
That was exactly what happened when Harry and his brand new band of merry men crossed the junkyard of the gods.
Dreadful place really.
And he wasn't saying that because he'd tried to activate a mini Talos for him to practice boxing with.
No sir!
The real annoyance came from when they were ambushed by no less than a dozen hit wizards. The mercenaries of the magical world. Something that should not have happened during a quest.
Magicals were notoriously skittish around the affair of the divine, after all. Gods tended to smite first and ask questions later.
So that meant that someone hired them and gave them information regarding who to target and where to find them. Information which could have only come from their targets and current opposition.
Hence, cheating!
Mind you, fighting magicals wasn't that much harder than fighting monsters. Sure, they were tricky, but Harry had enough practice fighting the covens back home that all he needed were a few adjustments. Mainly that he'd practiced apparating until he did it in his sleep from time to time. The same, however, could not be said for the rest of the group with the exception of the oldest Huntress.
Then again, there wasn't likely much she hadn't seen over the course of the past two thousand years.
'Still, don't those two have anything better to do?' Harry groaned in exasperation.
Trust that whore Rowena to try and kill someone just because they refused to join in on her scheme to conquer the supernatural world of the British isles. She and her fat drake of a husband could go eat a crow for all he cared. Seriously? Sending a coven of mercenaries all over one guy.
Talk about underestimating someone!
It was easy enough to crowd the idiots. Blasting past his guard, Harry's knife was driving up and towards the man's ribs. Not even dragonhide would stop a steel splinter designed to punch through tank armor. And the blade bit deep, magic on the knife and the armor clashing as the demigod's divine strength won out.
Taking a moment to drive the blade home, the demigod snapped his victim's neck and left the knife inside. Moments later, spells on the hitwizard's robes tried to activate and lash out at him. Instead, they came up against a spell designed by Heracles.
One that, quite frankly, admitted to going "I cast FIST" at the offending magics.
But hey, if it worked, it worked.
Moving on, he found another wizard, this one trying to stop himself from bleeding to death after an arrow buried itself in the meat of his thigh. Another knife flashed out, another knife stopped a backlash spell.
His bloody work was done quickly, despite his separation from the group, and soon he found himself alone. Walking towards he found the corpse of a thoroughly perforated asshole.
Again, another wizard, this one choking to death on vines. Another that had, had his throat slit, another with both eyes shot out, one simply blown to pieces with raw lightning. These were, very clearly, not highly experienced mercenaries. Harry knew that, because he'd had his ass kicked by real hitwizards.
'And Alastor Moody. And Flitwick. And Mcgonagall. And Sprout was no slouch either. Kingsley was a bit of a pussy, but he could take a punch. And Hagrid was a right fookin beast. Fluffy was the bestest little girl ever though. I should visit the pooch when this is all over. Wonder if she's getting along with the acromantula?'
Placing one hand over the hitwizard's throat and the other on the base of the man's jaw, Harry made a sharp jerking movement up and to his left. It hitched the man's vertebrae up about four notches, snapped his lower jaw clean off, and it was the work of a moment to root around in the man's mouth before finding what he was looking for.
"You know, you lot really think you're hot shit. But Rowena's playing games with Oberon and Titty-annia. She's not had to actually deal with the real world in a century or two. Ah! There we go!" Finding the cursed tooth all of the Ravenclaw's little boy toys had, Harry yanked it out and tossed it over his shoulder - the faux bone melting into a puddle of hissing acid as he did so. "Now my pretty. Do you want me to start torturing you, or are you going to talk?"
The magical's mouth frothed with blood and spittle and his limbs twitched slightly.
"Uh, Harry?" Bianca walked over to him, flinching at the scene of unadulterated violence but still reaching out to touch his shoulder.
"Oh. Duh. I crippled him. Iolaus, the potions please?"
"Right here Young Lord. Will you want the 'Hera Special' or just 'Prometheus in a Bottle'?"
After shoving the glowing, blue mixture down the idiot's throat, the hitwizard's mouth seemed to reverse in time, knitting itself back into a functional state.
"Snazzywazzle!"
Feeling a hook grab him behind his navel, Harry held on to his prisoner as best he could, Bianca screaming as all three tumbled through space to come to rest at a rather dusty motel. This being the important thing, because their short jaunt with a portkey had finished off the magical and deposited the two demigods in the semi-literal middle of nowhere.
"Well, I suppose I should have seen that coming. Bianca, you alright? Got all your fingers and toes?"
"I, what was that?"
Glancing up, he noticed that his friend was looking a bit green.
"A portkey. Good job staying on your feet, magical transport normally kicks your ass the first couple of times. As for the next question, well, I haven't the foggiest where we are. Judging by the position of the sun though… maybe a hundred, two hundred kilometers west?"
Nodding, the Daughter of Hades accepted his judgement before shivering. Somewhat worried, Harry finished rummaging around the wizard's pockets and walked over to his friend.
"Are you cold? Like there's ice in your gut?"
Now shivering, the young woman nodded and sniffled.
"Like it filling up my insides. What's going on?"
Clicking his tongue, Harry reached into his mokeskin pouch and pulled out a handful of vials.
"You've been cursed. Can you tell me what the colors that hit you looked like?"
"Yellow… and orange… and I think a bright pink? Why am I s-s-s-s-so c-c-cold."
Snorting, Harry shook his head.
"Because whoever sent these assholes didn't tell them what they'd be trying to kill." Pulling out several more, he clicked his tongue again. "Take this and this and this. Now, please."
Taking all three glass vials, the young woman choked down a thick, sludgy grey potion, a bright blue potion that sparkled, and a green black potion that smelled like rotten eggs.
"Now stay calm. What happens next is not going to be fun."
"What do you me-"
Cut off in the middle of her question, the demigod unleashed a projectile spew of chunky brown-red vomit. Bending double, she puked again even as Harry pulled her hair back and rubbed her back.
"Let it out. Let it all out. Trust me, it's better out than in."
Too distracted by the violent retches, she spent another thirty seconds vomiting before, finally, she stopped long enough to wretch and take a deep breath.
"W-what did you give me?"
She puked again.
"Well, we're demigods. Magic is a bit like… a really, really, really tiny piece of Hecate. Well, maybe, that's a gross oversimplification and I'm thirteen so what do I actually know. But yeah." Harry shrugged and just kept rubbing her back. "And we're partly our parents too. So the bits of divine stuff conflict with each other, at least that's what Aunt Medea says, and you've gotta get it out. By the way, be ready for the big one."
"Big what?"
Choking, gagging, snorting, tears running down her face she fell over, Harry barely catching her in time, before she vomited a final time.
Grey, wriggling worms and chunks of sputum erupted from her mouth and splattered against the ground before the worms burst into flames and reduced themselves to ash.
"That. I'd say you were probably hit with an entrail expelling curse, a cutting curse of some kind, and I don't know what the yellow things was but it might have been a spell of plague or disease. You're lucky your dad is King of the Underworld. Otherwise you wouldn't have been able to survive spells like that."
Carrying his friend over to a rest area, Harry punched a vending machine and ripped out several bottles of water and coke. Squatting down in front of Bianca, whom he had let sit against a wall in the shade of an overhang, he handed her the drinks and pushed her hair out of her eyes.
"You rest up. Drink plenty of fluids, too. I'll be back after I scout the place. Shame it isn't the Lotus Casino, huh?"
Bianca groaned in response.
"Heh. Right on kiddo."
Double checking that she had her knife and bow, because the girl was a bit out of it at the moment, Harry strolled over to the main office.
'Muggles. Old man and woman, eyes are unfocused, standing still, not blinking. Definitely controlled. Not imperius? Confundus perhaps.' Nodding to himself, Harry strolled around the outside of a building before finding a window in the back. There was a young man lying on a cot, but he was definitely muggle too. Not a lick of magic coming from him. 'I'll still need to double check. But there's got to be someone here.'
Leaving the area of the front office, he moved further back, skirting around a rather respectable pool, for a tourist trap at least, and began checking the rooms one by one.
'Thank you Hermione!'
"Alohomora."
Casting the spell, roughly, in a straight line down the row of detached rooms, he felt the spell latch on to three doors in particular. As the rest didn't offer a response, he began peeking inside their windows one by one until he came to one with a sleeping occupant.
'Definitely a witch going by the robes and yup, there's her wand.'
Hardly a cursebreaker, the Son of Heracles had still benefited from a very… action oriented education. It was a simple matter to learn that the doors, windows, and door frames had been protected against tampering. But the room itself was only generally alarmed. So, walking over to the wall behind the woman, he pulled his fist back and punched.
Suffice to say, the wall did not win.
"Hello luvvy, how ar' you tah day!"
Screaming, the witch tried to go for her wand. Harry, however, simply punched her in the face. He then stripped her of everything of worth, stuffed her into a muggle nightgown, hogtied her, put her wand into a case he pulled from his pouch, shoved the case under the bed, and woke his captive up.
Magic had many benefits and punching her again might just kill her!
"Wakey wakey." He waved friendly, watching with growing amusement as the cultist wiggled in fight. "There's a good lass. Now then, feel free to activate the cursed tooth. I tried to interrogate your friend before and he just used a portkey, so I'll give you a choice. As for your unmentionables, well, lets just say I've seen better."
Neither young nor old, the witch in question was of early middle age. The kind where she could be anywhere from her early thirties to late forties. Considering what she was, and by extension who she belonged to, that meant very little, of course. But based on the general quality of the rest of the mercenaries, Harry felt little concern of any real attack.
"Look into my eyes boy. Look-"
Feeling a tingle in the back of his head, Harry was rather naff at occlumency, rather he went for the tried and true smack to the mouth.
That always worked with nosey mind readers.
"Let me be blunt. I'm a demigod. A very busy one. And you, my dear, were hired to wipe out a questing party made up of Artemis's Huntresses, the daughters of Zeus and Hades, the son of Poseidon, and the son of Heracles. Plus a satyr who's a seeker or something. So, since you're British, I'll do you a favor and let you live. If you talk to me. If not, I'll hogtie and then mail you to Ares, as an offering. He is an exceptionally violent rapist, as you sure heard. Now, are you going to be a good girl and co-operate?"
That was a lie of course. Harry wouldn't actually let Ares violate her. Instead, he'd crush her skull like a grape and wait for Rowena's agents to come collect what was left of her hit team.
But she didn't need to know that.
That was one of Harry's favorite things about magicals. They thought they knew so much, but were most of the time just as blinded by the mist as your average mortal. Only they knew a few fancy words and could wave their sticks and get a pity allowance from Hecate from time to time. They were magical like demigods, but much in the same way a goldfish and a shark both breathed underwater, the scale between someone blessed by a goddess and born from a deity was completely different.
A featherweight trying to fight a super heavyweight.
"Not that Albus would let you think that. But he has a bleeding phoenix as a familiar. So is it fair to use a Bright Lord as a benchmark? Well. Not that you know what I'm rambling about. So speak."
In the end, the woman didn't know much.
Just your average cultist trying to please a higher being and squeeze out a little bit more power out of her old, dried out, bloodline. And as he predicted, she was indeed one of Rowena's little cronies. Which he would have to take up with the old witch later.
Seriously? Making an alliance with the Titans?
One would think that with all the infighting between covens back in Britain, she would be too busy to try and meddle in the affairs of another pantheon. Yet here they were. Working for that traitor Luke and whoever happened to be backing him up. Dad wouldn't like hearing that one bit.
Maybe he should send Luna a letter about it? She knew the Courts better than he did.
But that was for later. Now? He had to attend to his friend.
"Feeling better Bianca?"
Now sitting up under her own power, the young woman nodded.
"Yeah. First time fighting other humans. I, well, I killed one."
Harry flopped down next to her.
"Don't worry. They had it coming. Plus you'll get used to it eventually. Us half bloods, we get plenty of practice killing, so don't worry too much about it."
The daughter of Hades looked like she wasn't totally sure Harry was right. Frankly, she looked like he was down right mad. More tactful than her companion, however, she did not say anything.
Instead, they sat there, Harry draining a water bottle as she sipped on a lukewarm coke. Eventually she grew restless though and broached the obvious topic.
"So what do we do now?"
"Hmm? Oh, uh, about the rest of the group? They'll find us soon enough. Iolaus knows how to locate me. As for the normies, I made the witch fix them before she left. They're asleep in one of their rooms and ought to wake up in a couple of days with a nasty hangover. I burned the guy's corpse and fixed the wall I broke. Cleaned up your vomit too. As for any baddies, we should be ok. If anything shows up I should sense it unless it's smart enough to sneak up on me. And if it can do that, I don't know any spells that would stop something like that. So yeah. We'll just have to stay vigilant."
Blinking, she nodded.
"You're used to this, aren't you?"
He shrugged.
"A bit. I've spent the last couple summers doing this. After Odysseus and Iolaus took me to the Lotus Eaters, this is pretty much what I do. Other hols too."
Frowning, she still nodded.
"Blood and death right?"
Harry nodded and smiled at her.
"Pretty much. So that's why times like this are so important too. We should go for a swim! And I have a few things in my bag to rustle up if you don't wanna grab something from the muggle's kitchen."
"Go for a swim? On a quest to save Lady Artemis? In the middle of nowhere, without contacting our friends, and just… goofing off?"
Scrounging around in his pockets, Harry pulled out a handful of golden coins.
"Give 'em an Iris message. I'll go find you a bathing suit."
Staring dumbfounded at her friend, the demigoddess simply nodded and took the coins.
In the end, her final thought was rather simple.
'He's batshit insane. And thank the Gods he's on our side.'