The Kindly Ones

The Kindly Ones

Chapter Two

Proof my Ancestors Hate Me.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all associated things belong to much, much richer people then me.

\"Luck is my middle name,\" said Rincewind, indistinctly. \"Mind you, my first name is Bad.\"

-- (Terry Pratchett, Interesting Times)

Harry was aching when he woke up, stretching he was careful not to touch his back the cuts and bruises from the belt were going to take him ages to clean before he had to fix the house up after the party. Waking up on the carpet of his room a sharp pain flared in his right hand looking down Harry saw Hedwig nipping his fingers.

“O’kay, I’m getting up just give me a second.” Slowly easing himself into a sitting position. Harry waited for the pain to start in his back, but it didn’t. He couldn’t feel the usual grinding pain he felt when ever Vernon belted him. Rubbing a hand through the sleep in his eyes the boy-that-lived sighed. He couldn’t remember what happened after Vernon started belting him last night.

Why is it that bloody heroes all seem to come from tortured pasts why couldn’t he have had a happy childhood. Some one out there hates me Harry thought. When he got older and the Dursleys’ had no hold over him what fun he would have showing them his gratitude. Harry could only feel bone aching weariness in his body. Even the feeling of heat which had been building all summer in his body was gone leaving only a mild warmth radiating from his chest. It was almost pleasant. After grabbing some clean clothes Harry crept down to the bathroom.

Once inside he eased the ripped P.J top over his head in case he was just in shock and the pain would start at any moment. Taking a deep breath Harry turned his back to the mirror and braced himself, then he gasped. His back was covered in a tattoo of hundreds and thousands of feathers and any wounds were gone. Placing a hand on the basin in front of the mirror Harry braced himself and peered at his back.

The markings, were a midnight blue the feathers etched out in silver detail.
‘This was not happening, the world was strange enough as it was without him having a back covered in tattoo. Well it looks like he had found out what had happened last night. Scratching at the top of the feathers on his shoulder Harry could feel a silkily feeling where the feathers sat. Harry sighed, and pulled a hand back through his hair making him yank his hand out. His hair had wrapped it’s self around his hand. Harry just closed his eyes and hoped that nothing else would happen today.
Fate looked down from her easy-chair as she chowed down on some fresh buttered popcorn rubbed her palms together and smirked.

Harry couldn’t deal with this right now, he needed to clean the house and be out the door so he could get to Diagon alley. When he could stop and think he would. Denial is a nice place to visit but you don’t want to live there. Quickly getting dressed in the nasty baggy clothes left from Dudley. Harry noted the feathers trailed down his back in the shape of wings reaching the back of his knees. He made sure that everything was all covered. Just what he needed was for the prat to see the markings.

It was a quiet household as Harry crept around getting ready to leave and cleaning up after the party. After he had tossed the last black rubbish bag out by the rubbish bins Harry cooked a fried brekkie. The rest of the household woke up slowly Vernon and Petunia stumbled down the stairs looking like death warmed up. Harry spoke up,

“You know I hear tomato juice and raw egg are really good for a hang over, or how about some greasy mushrooms and garlic. That’ll fix you right up.“ Vernon and Petunia’s faces turned a vivid shade of green and fled back upstairs to the bathroom. Once every thing had been cleaned up Harry dragged his trunk and Hedwig’s cage outside and into the back of the car. It took another hour before Vernon dragged himself out of the house, wearing dark sunglasses. Harry started to hum ‘I’m too sexy.’

“Boy Shut, the hell up. I’ll drop you off at this place you need to buy your school supplies and then your on your own. So long, fair well, fuck off. You can make your own way to the train station.” The rest of the trip passed with Vernon quietly hunched over the steering wheel cursing the sun and sucking back cigarettes.

Dropt off by Vernon in the general area of The Leaky Cauldron, Harry found his own way there and dragged his trunks through the door. Has no one heard of putting travel wheels on these things. The barman Tom was behind the counter wiping down glasses and was the first one to spot Harry coming through the door. ‘Harry Potter, Greetings, what brings you here on this fine summer day?” Harry grinned at the friendly barman and stopped dragging his trunk along. The rest of the people in the bar looked up from their drinks to stare then returned to them. No one who is still in a pub that early in the morning really cares who comes through the door.

“Oh, my uncle just dropped me off to pick up my school supplies. Could I stay here the night I’ll be getting the train tomorrow.”

“Sure, I’d be happy to put you up for the night. You can put your trunk up now if you want and go do some shopping.” Harry grinned it was nice to be around people who didn’t treat him like he was something the cat hocked up and had then dragged in on the carpet. With his trunk and Hewig\'s cage carefully stowed away in an upstairs room Harry went off to do his shopping. He had to get new copies of Ralph, F.H.M and other healthy reading for teenage boys.

Tapping the right bricks Harry, walked through into the shopping centre of the London wizards. A steady crowd of strange and unusual people filled the narrow streets. The first thing Harry needed to do was get some money out of Gringotts. Walking into the impressive building Harry went up to a clerk writing at a table. “Excuse me but I would like to get into my vault.”

“Name please”

“Potter. Harry.”

“Key Please” Harry held out the key and watched the clerk stare at it then return it to him.

“It appears to be all in order. Follow me.” Hopping down from his high stool, Harry followed the clerk to the roller coaster ride that would led him to his vault. I wonder if there’s only one bank for wizards if that would be called a monopoly. Pulling to a sharp stop in front of the door to his vault the clerk carried out the necessary magic and Harry walked into the gold filled room.

Every time he walked in Harry was always blinded by the wealth that was piled around him. Dreams of what he would do with it if he had the chance to really spend it always occupied his first few minutes when ever he first entered. Hugh Hefner type dreams filled the young teens mind. For this reason he completely missed the polished wood and brass case sitting in the middle of the vault.

Reaching for the bag he had brought with him to cart some galleons and sickles back with him Harry tripped over the box, ending up with his face in a pile of Knuts. Turning over Harry finally noticed the box he had never seen before. Sitting up he pulled the wooden box towards him. He hadn’t spent that much time in the vault before but he thought he would have noticed this sitting right in the middle of the floor. A little piece of paper was taped to the top of the box, Harry carefully ripped this off it said. “To whom ever it may Concern. . . “
‘Oh real helpful’

A small ornate brass padlock kept the box shut, Harry touched it with a finger and the lock sprang open. Sliding the padlock out Harry eased the box open. Inside were sheets of paper sitting on top of something else, Harry pulled the first sheet out and started reading.

“Greetings, to the one who finds this box.

I have left all the information and help I can to the one who follows me. This box will only appear to one of my descendants who is an ‘Erinyes’. I will assume you have no idea what this means. As ‘Erinyes’ we are an ancient magical race connected with the ‘Parcae‘, and ’Moirae’. traditionally we were know of in Ancient Rome as Furies or Eumenides, ’the Kindly Ones’.

Myths have us as living in Hades, punishing the lawbreakers with whips and snakes. Our past has been glorious we served as hunters of people who trespassed on the laws of the world. For many generations we served as the bounty hunters of the wizarding world but time was not kind to us and after many millennium our race has been forced to the edge of extinction.

One day I fell in love with a human wizard named Charles Potter. I knew there was a chance that my bloodline would continue in my descendants. You will have come into your inheritance sometime if you are a girl in your early teens. While if you are a boy, it will take a great physical pain to force the change because of this Male ‘Erinyes‘ are extremely rare.

Physically our race is similar to the human wizards, the female’s have feathered wings and claws, the males wings are hidden in their backs and are not physically manifested unless called upon. Watch out for your teeth, we have retractable fangs, which help us identify our mate, but also carry a mild narcotic to other races.

Our ancient ancestors hair was partly made of snakes but cross-breeding with other races has changed this, but our hair is still semi-aware and cannot be cut with non-magical means. Your physical appearance will have also have been subtlety altered with the change. Other changes may occur to you descendant, as I do not know what the future has wrought and what my descendants may have married.

The power of the Furies is born in pain but carried out with love. Once we discover who our mate is we will protect them against all. Unlike the Veela and other magical races we can not smell or sense the one who is our life-bond.

Fear not for their Blood leads us to them, released in passion it will identify the one with the feather marking. From the time of your first awakening child-of-mine you will feel an urge to find your life-bonded. It is important that you do find them for our power over our emotions are closely linked to them.

I leave in this box all I know of our race and what else I thought would help you. In the bottom of the case lies my whip. This has been passed down my family line for many centuries and is a precious possession. It can only be used by one of the race of ‘Erinyes‘. This whip is called ‘Podargo’. And has been used to enforce the will of our law for centuries.

I hope that the one who holds this box in there hands is happy and free to live their lives as they wish.

May the Gods help you because your going to need.
Yours Sincerely

Tisiphone Potter

Harry tipped the box up and stared at the black leather whip, necklace, silk rope, glass bottle and paper that fell out.
You know he never should have hoped that nothing was going to happen today it was like a death sentence he would have been safer if he had said ‘lets’ split up’ in a b grade horror movie. If his life wasn’t enough of a car wreck already he was going to turn into a wizard bounty hunter. If fucking Voldemort wasn’t bad enough. Leaning over Harry begun to bang his head against the floor.
Fate cackled to her self and settled back to enjoy the show.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

In a small room in Hogwarts the walls were covered with carvings. We don’t want to take to close a look at those carvings. Let’s just say they make ‘Debbie does Dallas’ look like Sesame Street. The wood the walls were made of was thick with them. A candle sat on a little table that sat in the centre of the room. It’s light shone on the carving’s making seem to writhe in the flickering light. A body was peering into the candle flame chuckling. or maybe that should be giggling it was too close to tell. An “Erinyes’ had awoken his imprisonment was nearly over.

A/N
Harry really shouldn\'t of got out of bed this morning.
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