Hit the Marc

by Jackal Antern XIII

How would you react, if one day, you found out that you were a wizard? you'd freak out right? or, maybe not. i mean, you could be like me. my name is Marc, and this is my story.

1. Hit the Marc

"Marc, Marc wake up! It's your birthday." Said an auburn haired woman as she opened her son's door. Looking to her son's bed, she could just see his dark hair, almost coal-black, peeking out from behind his covers. "I'm making pancakes." She said as she turned toward the stairs. Just after she could no longer see into the room, she heard a flurry of movement.

It's so easy to get him out of bed like this. Maybe I should make pancakes more often.

Moments later, Marc rushed past her in her way downstairs.

"There are some already on the table. Help yourself." She shouted after him as he tore around the corner.

"Thanks Mom!"

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"Man Marc, how can you eat so many pancakes? You ate like twelve." Said Marc's older sister Anne.

"Thirteen, sis. I ate thirteen."Corrected Marc.

"Still Marc, how can you eat that much and not get fat." Said Anne.

"I don't know. Maybe I really am a bottomless pit." Suggested a shrugging Marc.

As their mother came over to begin cleaning up the table, she spotted something out on the back porch.

"Marc, look at that owl on the porch." Shouted Anne.

"What owl . . . oh, that owl. Hey, is it holding a letter?" said Marc as he got out of his chair. Walking over to the door, he watched as the owl followed his movement. "I'm going to see if I can get that letter." Said Marc as he steeped through the now open door.

"Just be careful Marc." Cautioned his mother.

As Marc approached the nocturnal avian, he was slightly surprised that it didn't fly away. Reaching the bird, Marc calmly reached for the letter and grabbed it. The owl released the letter almost as if it had been trained to do so. Backing up slightly, Marc looked down at the letter. It was made of a heavy yellowish parchment and sealed with a strange coat of arms: a lion, badger, raven, and snake on a quartered shield, and in the center was an H.

"Weird." Marc muttered under his breath. Flipping the letter over, he looked at the address:

Marc Z. Vitrac

north-side bedroom

1313 Lunar Court

Ipswich

"OKAY, weird." Said Marc. Looking up, he saw that the owl had left. Turning, he walked back inside, all the while looking at the letter. "Hey mom, it's a letter for me."Said Marc as he closed the door behind him.

"Oh really. Then I guess that was a messenger owl." She said, trying to be sarcastic, and failing.

"Yeah, it was." Said Marc as he sat back at the table and opened the letter.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Vitrac

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

Having finished the letter, Marc looked up at his mother, who had been reading the letter over his shoulder.

"Mom?" said Marc, slightly weirded out.

"Um, well. Marc, it looks like magic is real then. Either that or there is some loon out there who is training owls to carry messages about some made up school." She said quietly.

"Mom, if it is real, I would like to go. Can I? Please?" pleaded Marc.

"If it is real, and not some hoax, then you can go." She allowed.

Pumping his fist in the air, Marc dumped the remaining contents of the envelope. A list of school supplies, a ticket, and a blank sheet of parchment, obviously meant for the reply letter. Grabbing a pen from his pocket, he began to write out his reply.

Dear Ms. McGonagall

I am happy to tell you that I accept your offer. My mother on the other hand, request evidence for the existence of magic before she will allow me to attend. I also have a few questions. How am I to get my school things as I doubt that I can get magic textbooks in the non-magical world? Are we required to pay for tuition? If so, how? And finally, how long will the school year be?

Thank you in advance.

Marc Vitrac.

P.s. please address me as Marc. I don't answer to anything else.

Having finished, Marc handed the letter to his mother. She, after reading, added her signature.

"Now, how are we to return the letter?" she asked.

"I think we are supposed to send it by owl." Said Marc as he surveyed the back porch for the owl. As he was just about to give up, the owl alighted on the railing. Rushing out, Marc gave the owl his reply letter. Upon receiving the letter, the owl took off to the northwest.

Walking back inside, Marc couldn't help but ask "so, what now?"

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*knock, knock*

"I'll get it." Shouted Marc as he ran to the front door. Opening the door, he was startled slightly at seeing a man of diminutive stature.

"Ah, you must be Mr. Vitrac. I am Professor Fillius Flitwick. I was told that your mother requested proof of magic." Said Flitwick.

"Yeah, she did. And please, call me Marc." The boy replied. "Come in, I'll show you to her." Marc said as he lead the diminutive man toward the living room. "Mom, the proof is here."

"Oh, so what did they send?" asked his mother.

"They sent a munchkin." Said Marc, trying to get that 'you-gotta-be-shitting-me' look out of his mother, and succeeding.

"Marc, don't joke like that. You do remember the boy who cried wolf, don't you?" she replied, nearly to the shaking-a-finger-in-your-face stage.

"Well, I have never been called a munchkin before." Said the professor from behind Marc, having been able to hide behind him completely. Upon hearing Flitwick and his squeaky voice, Marc's mother jumped.

"May I present professor Flitwick the Munchkin, and long time member of the lollipop guild." Said Marc as he stepped aside to reveal the mun. . . I mean the professor.

"There is a lollipop guild? Oh the headmaster would love to get in contact with them. He has a sweet-tooth larger than I am." Said Flitwick.

Wouldn't be hard, our cat is practically bigger than you are. Thought Marc.

"So, what do you have that will convince me of the existence of magic." Said Marc's mother.

"Hmm, how about some transfiguration or better yet, do you have something that needs to be fixed or repaired?" suggested the midget.

"Well, not really. But you said something about transfiguration. Could you transfigure me a cup of tea?" she asked.

Not even bothering to reply, Flitwick conjured a tea service complete with biscuits.

"Professor, now that the proof is out of the way. How and where am I to get my school things?" asked Marc.

"Right to business I see Marc. Yes, we'll be going to Diagon Alley." Said munchkin-man.

"Where is Diagon Alley, if you don't mind my asking?" questioned Mrs. Vitrac.

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CRACK

"Okay, that felt weird," said Marc as he came back into existence, "cool, but weird."

"Come Marc. We need to get going. Before we visit any shops, we need to convert your money into galleons, wizarding money." Said Flitwick as he scurried off down the street. Walking after the man, Marc was doing a bit of sightseeing. Everyone seemed to be color-blind, combining clashing colors in their weird, overabundant robes. Shaking his head, Marc continues to follow Flitwick to a large, crooked, marble building. Guessing this must be a bank, Marc continues inside.

"Professor, I take it those beings are goblins or something similar." Said Marc gesturing to the armored humanoids guarding the door.

"Yes, they are. Why do you ask?" said Mr. Midget.

"I didn't ask. That was just an observation. Though I would guess that people don't trust them easily, or at all." Commented Marc after seeing the expressions on the faces of some of those around them.

"Yes, unfortunately the human inhabitants of magical Europe are quite prejudiced against non or half-humans." Said Flitwick, sighing.

"Professor, do you have some nonhuman ancestry that contributes to your size?" asked Marc.

"Not that I have been able to find. Though I hear that in the muggle world there are some who are my size naturally" he replied.

"Yes, though I know little about what causes it, I have heard that it is a specific code in the genes." Commented Marc. "I have always been curious about that which I do not understand."

"So you have a thirst for knowledge, seems like you would fit into my own house." commented Flitwick.

"House, sir?" asked Marc.

"The school is sorted into four houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and finally Slytherin. Each house prizes one characteristic above others. For Gryffindor it is bravery, Hufflepuff has loyalty, Ravenclaw prizes knowledge, and Slytherin cunning. Each house has a professor acting as head. For Gryffindor it is Professor McGonagall, transfiguration teacher and Deputy-Headmistress, for Hufflepuff there is Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, I am the Charms teacher and head of Ravenclaw, and Slytherin has Professor Snape, the potions teacher. A tip for school, Professor Snape favors his house so I would suggest you read the potions text beforehand." Informed Flitwick "ah, finally, here we are Marc."

"What is it that you want?" asked an irritable Goblin.

"We would like to exchange pounds for Galleons." Supplied Flitwick.

"Excuse me, could you check for any wizarding blood in my ancestry. You never know who you are the heir to." Joked Marc.

"Certainly, Marc. That is an excellent idea. If you would please arrange it Mr. Redmaw." Flitwick asked the Goblin.

"As you wish" replied Redmaw, " Tornclaw!" called the teller. As the goblin Tornclaw approached, Redmaw continued, "If you would please escort them to the ancestry chamber."

"Follow me." Said Tornclaw, walking off towards a door in the back of the lobby. After walking for a few minutes, Tornclaw opened a door and motioned for them to enter. "So, what is it you wanted to check about your ancestry?" he asked.

"I would like to know where my magical blood came from, and if there is some magical blood in my ancestry, to find out if I inherit anything from them." Answered Marc.

"Alright, then if you will allow me to draw some blood." said Tornclaw gesturing to a basin near the back wall. Beside the basin was a small dagger, picking up the dagger, Tornclaw gestured for Marc to give his hand. Grabbing Marc's hand Tornclaw cuts Marc's palm, letting the blood drip into the basin. After letting the blood flow for a moment, Tornclaw sealed up the cut with a touch of magic. "Now we wait a moment for your family tree to appear on the wall." supplied Tornclaw. Seconds later a tree started to grow from behind the basin. On the trunk was Marc's name, on the two forked branches were the names of his parents, and so on for generations. On closer inspection, Marc's name was silver while his parent's and grandparent's were black, there was also a silver line traveling up from his name through his mother, grandfather, great-grandfather, great-great-grandfather, etc. high up the tree, twelve generations or so, the silver line split, continuing to go up and up. Finally, after a good twenty minutes and a good eighty generations, there was another silver name, Mathurin Kerbouchard, and another, Baldriac Kerbouchard, and another Kerbouchard, this went on for a good twenty generations when there was a golden name and then back to silver. On the other silver line there had yet to be a silver name.

"We are only able to track up a family tree two-hundred generations, so it won't be long until we won't be able to track that magical line, but it appears you are of an old Druidic line." commented Tornclaw, "I think we have their vault, but I don't believe that there will be much gold in that vault. Perhaps a few artifacts or family heirlooms."

As he was finishing speaking, the other magical line had a single white name, paired with a single silver, before it stopped tracking completely. Upon seeing the name, Tornclaw let out a bark like laugh.

"Now that one was unexpected. I can believe that you are a descendant of the Kerbouchard Druidic line, but that family, hah." Tornclaw continued to chuckle and laugh for a minute or two. The name in white was 'Signe,' the silver name paired to it was 'Reynard Odinson.'

"Excuse me, Tornclaw, what does the name being gold or white mean?" asked Marc, and it seemed that Professor Flitwick was also curious.

"Well, the golden name merely states that they were of great power, but the white name, that is because she was not human." here Tornclaw chuckled again, "she was Fae." with that Tornclaw walked out the door, motioning for them to follow him. "Now, lucky for you these two vaults do not require a key, but for the heir to be recognized. For the Kerbouchard vault, if you are the heir, the vault will open, if you are of their line, but not the heir, you will get a slight shock. If you were in no way related to their line and tried to gain access you would receive a quite large and possibly fatal shock." Tornclaw said, continuing to chuckle, "lucky for you that both vaults are some of our deepest." he said as he grabbed a lantern and hopped into a cart.

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After a thrilling and chaotic cart ride, the three got off of the cart.

"Alright, here we are at the Kerbouchard vault. Just place your hand on that silver plate and we will know." said Tornclaw pointing to the vault door, where there was a silver plate embossed with the Kerbouchard Coat-of-Arms, a staff and claymore crossed over an ivy-covered oak. Placing his hand on th plate, Marc felt a strange energy running through him, filling him, judging him. After a moment, he felt the feeling recede.

"Well, I'll be damned." said Tornclaw as the Coat flashed a brief white light, "looks like it accepts you kid."

"Looks like it." said Marc as the door slid to the side revealing a room filled with a medium-large pile of gold, many shelves of books, a few racks of weapons, some clothing and armor, and in a corner there looked to be a mini-zoo. "Um, what is with the animals?"

"It looks like they are in some kind of stasis charm." commented Flitwick.

"Stasis charm?" asked Marc.

"It basically makes it so that the animals are in a state of suspended animation. They do not age, they do not need to eat, sleep, drink, or anything. Though they are not conscious nor do they move." summarized Flitwick. As he followed Marc through the vault. After looking at the books some he said, "Amazing, it appears as if the last of the line copied his entire druidic knowledge into books."

"Didn't the Druids do everything by memory, never writing it down?" asked Marc.

"Yes, though it appears that the last druid of the line saw that his child had no magic and decided to preserve his knowledge until magic reappeared in his line. Marc, I would love to read some of these, if you would allow it. As they are written in an old form of Gaelic I would gladly teach you to read them yourself in return." suggested Flitwick. "I would also suggest that you take Ancient Runes in your third year, and probably Arithmancy also."

"Alright, sounds good. Let's check out my little menagerie." Marc said gesturing toward the animals in the corner. As they approached, they saw that off to the side there were quite a few eggs of various natures and sizes. "I wish I had a list of the contents." said Marc to himself, though Tornclaw seemed to have heard him.

"I can have that brought to you once we get back to the ground floor, but first I suggest that we check your other possible vault." offered Tornclaw, " lucky for you it isn't too far away."

"Um, before we leave, I think we should grab some gold."suggested Marc, "I mean, if there isn't any in the other vault, we would have to return to this vault to withdraw some, and that would take unnecessary time."

"Smart thinking Marc." commented Flitwick, "Here, I brought a pouch to store the Galleons we were going to exchange for. Though it seems that it won't be needed.."

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After a short uneventful trip to the next vault, Marc was astonished to see a blank wall where they stopped.

"I never did understand this vault. It allows the heir to pass through the door, though if you aren't the heir, it just turns you around and sends you right back out." said Tornclaw shaking his head. "Nowhere near vicious enough." he stated.

"Well, here goes." said Marc as he stepped toward the wall. As his hand passed through the door, he felt a similar energy as when he was being judged by the other vault. Gathering up his courage, Marc shut his eyes and stepped forward. Opening his eyes he found himself in a medium sized room with a portrait, on the opposite wall, and two doors, one on each wall facing each other. In portrait was a woman. Quite a beautiful woman at that, her skin was a dark bronze, a darker shade of his own skin, her hair was long and black, her face dimly reminded himself of himself, and she also had his same slate-blue eyes. She was clothed in a faded coral dress that hung loosely from her shoulders and was held tight to her waist by a wide, beaten gold belt. Despite her aristocratic appearance, she held herself like a predator, confident, sure of herself, every movement was economical, the least amount of effort for the distance moved. Wait, movement?

"Hello, child." said th woman, smiling slightly, "I have waited a long time for one of my blood."

Marc just stood there, staring at her. After a moment a look of understanding crossed his face. "Magic, that's why the painting moves and talks." he mumbled to himself.

"You know, talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity" said the woman, a full grin on her face.

"If that is so, then I have been insane for years, because I have been talking to myself since I was able to talk." remarked Marc(no pun intended), "so you are Signe? How come Reynald isn't here too?"

"We never could get him to sit still long enough for anyone to paint his portrait.." she supplied, "though it would have been a bit more bearable with him here to talk to."

"Sorry, If I had known you were here I would have gotten here earlier." said Marc, "I only just recently came to know about the magical world."

"Don't worry child, I cannot and do not blame you." she said, "time is short child and we need to talk of your heritage."

"You mean my Fae blood, your blood." he answered.

"Yes. We, unlike most other fae species, have gone dormant. That is to say that our heritage is dormant in the veins of our descendants." she said.

"So is there a way to awaken it, your blood?" asked Marc.

"Yes, though it will take time." said Signe, "in the room to your right, the ritual room, you will find a potion, white in color. Go and take it." she instructed.

"Walking over to and through said door, Marc came to a mostly bare room. The only things in the room was a set of shelves filled with potions and what looked like a transmutation circle he had seen in that manga. Walking over to the shelves, Marc began searching for the correct potion. It didn't take long as there was a small group of white potions in the middle of one of the shelves. Grabbing one he returned to the main room.

"Is this it?" asked Marc, holding up the vial.

"It is. But first let me tell you of my kind." said Signe, "we were shape-shifters. Able to take any form perfectly, be it human, fae, beast, object, or energy. Not only that, but we were ageless. We would not die except by outside means. The only way we would die would be disease, poison, or weapon." here she paused, "child, our species often operated like a pack. Especially in that the male would take multiple mates. When you begin to reach maturity, you will begin to search out a mate, or several." upon hearing that little tidbit of information, Marc stood there, thinking over what he had learned. We will omit that his mouth was hanging open, that he was drooling slightly, and that he had a dumbfounded expression on his face.

Quickly shaking his head to clear his head, "I will probably have to watch out for who I choose as a mate." he mused aloud, "to make sure that I chose the right people as mates, and to make sure they aren't after my abilities, my heritage. Or my possessions for that matter." he finished.

"That would be wise." Signe said sarcastically.

"So what do I do with the potion?" asked Marc.

"Every day for the next year, put one drop of your blood into the potion. At the end of the year return here to the ritual room and drink it." Signe instructed.

"What should I do if I am unconscious for a few days?" he asked.

"The best solution would be for someone to take a drop of your blood every day and use that. The next best solution is for you to have the friend do the same from a vial of your blood set aside for this purpose.." Signe informed him, "if you cannot get someone to help you, then for the following days after you wake, use two drops instead of one until you are caught up."

"Well, I think that is covered." said Marc, "anything else you want to discuss?"

"Yes, in the room to your left, which is more like the actual vault, you should find many staves meant for the casting of greater magics, find one that fits your magic and take it. Also, there is a ring in there, I want you to bring it out here." she instructed.

"Right." said Marc as he started toward the door.

As he entered the vault he was awestruck. The amount of things in the room was astounding. Not only that, but there was something from nearly every age starting about a millennia ago. One side of the room was devoted to the tools of war, swords, bows, axes, maces, and various forms of armor. Marc guessed that the staves would be in that section. Another portion of the room looked to have been turned into a library of monstrous proportions. Marc even thought he saw some scrolls on one of the two story high shelves. In the back was a menagerie similar to what was in the Kerbouchard vault, if only larger and of greater variety. Over in another portion of the room was a sort of display of family heirlooms. There were many forms of jewelry, from rings and necklaces to strange armbands and diadems. In the last corner of the room was a mini-mountain of gold.

"Well, on to the staves." Marc said to noone in particular.

As he walked through the stands of armor, a set of bracers and grieves caught his eye. They were not anywhere near his size, but he got te feeling that it didn't matter. Taking one of the bracers he placed it on his forearm. As he started to buckle it on, it began to reform to the size of his arm. "Cool" said Marc aloud. Looking over to te others in the set, he saw that they were not his size. Quickly putting the rest of them on he continued to where he had seen the staves. Reaching them, he began to run his fingers along the staves. Every now and then he would feel a weak pull, but the feeling still didn't feel right. As he was about two-thirds of the way through the staves, as his fingers struck a stave, the pulling feeling multiplied a hundred-fold. His hand seemed to subconsciously wrap themselves around the shaft. Lifting it out of the rack, the stave seemed to begin giving of a faint light. As Marc continued to hold it, the light continued to get brighter until in an explosion of light the runes that were lightly engraved down the length of the stave seemed to radiate a myriad of lights. As the light subsided, Marc just stared at the stave. It was made of a dark wood, not quite black with a slight red tint to it. About the top several centimeters the runes seemed to be made of various gemstones. They were thirteen in number.

As the sense of awe began to recede, Marc started off to the heirloom portion of the room. In the relative center of the section there was a pedestal with a single ring on it. Grabbing the ring he returned to the main hall.

"Got them." said Marc.

"Good, and I see that you grabbed something else too." said Signe with a slight smile. As Marc heard that he ducked his head slightly. "Oh, don't be ashamed, those things should be put to good use. Now, about the ring." said Signe, her tone going serious, "it will help you to locate those who have a heritage like yours. Though it will only lead you to those that have magic." she finished.

"So, if I wear it, it will lead me to others whose blood is dormant." said Marc, "what was your kind called anyway?"

"We didn't really have a name, they just assumed that we were of the race whose appearance we took."

"Alright, so that is it?" he asked, "oh, and what is with the animals in the vault?"

"Yes, that is all." answered the woman, "the animals are there for two is for you to learn to change into those species to give you some experience. The other is that Reynald always liked to have animal companions around, no matter hor dangerous they were supposed to be." said signe, "that reminds me, our race was gifter with Beast-speak, meaning we could talk with any being, it also gives us a head start when learning foreign human languages." she commented.

"Well, that should help when I go to read most of those books, as I am sure that they are in a different language." said Marc.

"Yes, I guess it would. I will see you in a year." said Signe, sounding slightly dissapointed.

"Goodbye, I wish I could help with the boredom problem, but I have no idea." said Marc as he started to leave.

As he stepped back through the wall, he nearly walked straight into Professor Flitwick, who seemed to be studying the wall.

"Hello Marc. I expected you to be in there longer than a minute. Though it seems you did much in that short amount of time." said Flitwick.

"It seemed more like ten minutes. I had almost worried that you two might have decided to leave." said Marc.

"No, I would have been much too curious to leave." said Flitwick as he seemed to bounce around.

"I would have been punished harshly had I done that." said Tornclaw from the side. "Well, are we done here?" asked the goblin.

"Yes, yes, I think our business is finished down here." said Flitwick happily.