Birds of Prey
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Prologue
Vernon Dursly was a fairly large man for his age. Just at the brink of turning thirty five, Vernon stood 6 feet tall and weighed and hefty 200 pounds. His bludging belly was evidence that the added weight was not muscle but fat. In the years to come the belly, itself, would grow to enormous proportion.
Today however, was he calling a cab. It was raining as usual in london. The dark, contaminated water splashed on his cheap raincoat which protected his expensive suit. Black dribbles of liquid continued to let gravity take control as they drained itself to the sidewalk underneath's Vernon's feet. Today was a good day for . Not even the usually foul invested weather could dampen his mood.
Today he had finally managed to convince the bank to help expand his growing business. Most of the time Dursley made drills but every now and then he received and order for pistols. Very rare but there were there. In this world every business had their security armed and made weapons. Grunnings was no exception.
At the moment two security guards protected the entrance to the newly established Gunning's shop. At three stories tall the shop employed nearly 30 employees, something Mr. Dursley was proud off. He had made the entire company with his bare hands starting from nothing. Now he could happily consider himself a millionaire in a few years.
And best of all the bank had official decided to aid his growing business, giving him a low interest loan. The fact that such a thing was uncommon for small businesses made the deal even sweeter. There was no way this day could get any better.
After several years of working on weekends and overtime his hard work had paid off. He could spend more time with his family. Growing Dudley would one day take over his family business and Vernon couldn't wait for that day to arrive. His wife will be happy that he would be home early.
Only one mild fleck seemed to make a mockery of his happy mood. The boy. The blasted boy his sister-in-law had left him. Why he hated that blasted boy. While he was given a good stipend of 1000 pounds, to take care of him every month, Vernon had taken revenge on him by making the boy pay.
He cooked, cleaned, gardened and washed all the clothes. Best of all, the blasted boy, Harry Potter, was stuck in the cupboard for most of the day in hopes that he would grow unnatural and give Vernon a reason to put him down. Normally Vernon would be against doing such things to a child. His sense of honour would have prevented it from coming forth in the first place. But he couldn't. The boy was magical. And magical beings were dangerous.
He had learned the hard way ten years ago when his entire rugby club was attacked by a vampire. That blasted freak killed two of his best friends that day. And on that day Vernon was a changed man. He was a tougher man. That's all that mattered in his opinion. The ends justified the means.
Vernon still had the scars on his neck from the bite. Luckily for him he repaid the blasted abomination with his brass knuckles, spiked shoes and baseball bat a month later when he tracked it down. Who knew such skills would come to use when a couple of thugs tried to hustle him for "protection" money.
But Vernon wasn't going to let such dark thoughts cloud his judgement. Today was a day of celebration. Especially in a city as glum as London. At 8 million people living in is borders, London was a very large city. In the past few years the city had received a massive influx of people. With more people you have more competition for the same things and with more competition there was violence.
Tires screeched bringing Vernon back to his thoughts. A taxi had stopped in front of him. His car had broken down a few days ago and was still in the repair shop. So he was taking the cab. The cab driver an average, Eastern man simply nodded at Vernon before starting the engine.
Vernon sighed in relief, "Ah I can't wait to get home. It's been raining a lot this year,"
"That it has sir," answered the taxi driver, "Where do you want me to go?"
"Here," replied Mr. Dursley taking out one of his cards and which showed the address of one of his construction sites for his shop. It was close by home so he would only have to walk a few minutes. Besides he could use the exercise.
"Got it sir," nodded the man before turning left.
Vernon immediately noticed the change in scenery but merely shrugged it off. Slumping back into his seat, Vernon allowed himself to relax. Today was a good day. Today had been a good day. At the thought he couldn't help but smile.
"Good day sir," asked the Taxi driver continuing his route.
"Fine. Today I finally found myself the proud owner of a new piece of land where I could set shop," replied Vernon. For a moment Vernon wondered why he was having such a normal conversation with a stranger before shrugging it off.
"I'm looking forward to how this day ends," added Vernon half-heartedly, "Maybe watch something on the television,"
At that answer the taxi driver stiffened for a moment before chuckling. Seeing Vernon's stare the taxi driver answered.
"Personally, I find the best entertainment, sir, comes from watching something happen before your eyes. Something that makes you feel alive, makes your blood flow. It's the adrenaline that you should be after," explained the taxi driver avoiding traffic.
At that answer Vernon perked up. He was starting to like this man.
"Really. You seem to be a man who seems to know a lot about such things for, pardon me, a taxi driver," questioned Vernon.
For a moment the taxi driver ignored Vernon. However at a stop sign the taxi driver turned to Vernon. For the first time Mr. Dursley got a good glimpse of the man's face. A black moustache, with flecks of grey hair covered his body. There were a few wrinkles showing some age that probably backed up those man's words. But it was those eyes that sold him. Those eyes showed that this man knew how to have fun no matter how dangerous and thrived off of it. Perhaps he should listen.
"Looks can be deceiving Mr. Dursley. Some people just don't know where or what to look for look," Smiled the taxi driver.
"So you know a place," asked Vernon sceptically.
"More than just a place. Here's the location," replied the Taxi driver noticing Vernon's momentary fear before it disappeared. The taxi driver had merely pulled out a card.
"If you really want to find the something as exciting go to this location,"
A card was placed in Vernon's breast pocket.
"May I know what it is?" questioned Vernon.
"Oh you'll see," chuckled the taxi driver, "You'll see."
"I don't care what you see. If you want me to come to this place tell what this bloody place is!" shouted Vernon threateningly to the man. His face was turning red, his knuckles cracked and Vernon's adrenaline kicked in.
Instead of being intimidated the Eastern man merely smiled almost as if he was appreciating Vernon's reaction.
"I see that a man of your calibre wouldn't be so easily bought. Very well. This place is a fight club. Come to it if you choose. Mr…" trailed off the taxi driver.
Relaxing from the answer Vernon decided to add, "Dursley. Vernon Dursley."
"Vernon Dursley. Nice name. Has a ring to it. This fight club has many participants and we are always eager for more betters. If you truly wish to feel adrenaline pumping through your veins, come. Even bring one of your own participants," beamed the man.
"And if I refuse," retorted Vernon.
"Then I won't hold it against you," smirked the Taxi Driver, "But as you English always say. The more the merrier. Here's your stop."
Like the taxi driver had said this was Vernon's stop. He hadn't noticed it. Pulling out his wallet Vernon was about to pay the man before a hand stopped him.
"How much …" questioned Vernon.
"-Nothing. Consider it a token of good will. Bring lots of friends if you want," smiled the taxi driver before letting Mr. Dursley out. Cautiously Vernon did what he was beckoned to do.
The headlights of the taxi flickered a few times. Slowly the taxi built up speed and sped off. The rain pattered on Mr. Dursley but he didn't mind.
Fight club, heh?
Perhaps he could finally put that blasted four year old boy to good use. Smiling at that thought Vernon briskly walked home.
Vernon had believed that nothing could make this day get any better. He was proven wrong just now.
Author's Note:
By the way I hope that this story one day goes on
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