The next several days were spent reading over the course requirements for Hogwarts, continuing his extra exercises, visiting a few tourist spots in London, and generally settling in at the suite. Choosing one day more than a week before school started, Staros decided to visit the oddly named Diagon Alley in person to pick up his school supplies. Since he had yet to visit the London branch of Gringotts, he figured he could take care of the House's business as well while there.
When the car pulled up to the rather dirty looking pub, Staros wondered about British wizards and their standards. While he had to admit, the area tended to dissuade mundanes from wandering in; he still thought more effort and care could have gone into the actual building itself. Being invisible to ordinary people did not mean it had to look like crap.
With a deep sigh, he stepped out of the car, walked over and into the Leaky Caldron. Once through the door, he saw the inside was no better than the outside, dimly lit by smoky oil lamps that hadn't even been charmed to emit better light or get rid of the smoke, the whole place felt like something out of the Dark Ages. Glancing around, he got a few odd looks for standing in the door, but mostly no one paid him any mind. He saw a man standing at the bar wiping glasses with a slightly stained, but hopefully clean towel. Guessing he must be the proprietor, Staros walked over to him, Carcerous just behind.
"Hello, sir. I understand that this is the primary way to reach Diagon Alley from mundane London. Could you please show me the entrance?"
"Mundane? Ah, you mean muggle. Yeah, this is the spot, son. Out back here, I'll show you the wall."
'Muggle? What in the hell is a muggle?' Staros thought. 'Brits are weird.'
Following the man, who introduced himself as Tom and nattered on about some Porter, Pockmark, whatever his name was coming back, out the back way, Staros once again was amazed at the overly complex method British wizards had for entering a shopping locale. As if the Notice-Me-Not and Non-Magical Repellant wards weren't enough, now there's this combination lock style tapping of a wand on some bricks to cause an archway to appear.
Thanking the man for his assistance, Staros led the way through the arch and out onto the busy street. Everywhere were wizards and witches of various nationalities, but mostly British, rushing about buying this, looking over that, and generally just reminding him of town market day back in the Renaissance era, not that today's malls were much better.
A quick glance around and he saw the entrance to Gringotts and began making his way over to it. As he walked, he took in the surrounding crowd and wished his parents and friends back home could see this. They always thought his affection for his cloak was odd. Here, he barely stood out at all. He was, in fact, the least oddly dressed person there and might even be taken for a salesman of some kind were he older, or maybe a delivery boy amid the movie extras back home.
Stepping up to the bank's stairs, he read the inscription overhead and nodded in agreement. As he stepped through the doors, he thanked the two guards who had opened them upon his approach, causing one to start and nearly drop his axe. Carcerous grinned at the goblin and quickly darted to follow Staros when the goblin sneered back at him.
Staros looked around the well decorated lobby and found a teller that didn't look too busy. All goblins were busy, he recalled, just some were less busy than others. Literally, time was money to the goblin.
Waiting a few minutes for the goblin to finish counting the pile of coins in front of him and make his entry into a ledger, Staros glanced around for a nameplate or some other identifying item to let him know whom he was addressing. Finding nothing, he waited for the goblin to acknowledge him, having already seen the discreet glances the goblin had made in his direction.
"Can I help you?" the goblin snarled as he pushed aside his ledger, obviously implying a complete waste of his time.
"Yes, Mr., ah..."
The goblin seemed slightly surprised that a wizard would ask his name, but quickly covered it up by pulling out and slamming down a nameplate onto his desk.
"Ah, Mr. Heartripper, I am here to speak with the account manager of the Marcus family for the London branch."
The goblin frowned slightly at that. "The London branch, boy? Where does your family normally do business? And who is your account manager?"
"Well, since my family has not had the privilege of access to your London offices in three hundred years, the majority of my father and grandfather's business has been with the New York and San Francisco offices. I imagine my brothers deal primarily with their local offices as well. We have not been in contact with the London office during that time and have not accessed the titled accounts or vaults as was part of our familial exile. Our manager at last contact was Master Clerk Grandlight but I am unaware as to his health or continued status."
Heartripper's eyes widened as Staros spoke and he looked almost afraid when the account manager's name was given, but he recovered quickly enough.
In a more polite tone than earlier, he said, "Yes, well, the Master Clerk has since moved on to another position. I shall have to see who he left his files with. A moment." With that, he summoned another goblin, spoke to him rapidly in gobbledygook, Staros only catching a few words about the Master Clerk, the bank manager, and something about dead flies? He probably heard that wrong, not being as well versed in Ghob'lay Khohk, known mostly to wizards as gobbledygook, as he would like. It was damned hard for humans to grasp.
The other goblin ran off to do whatever it was he'd been told and another goblin was summoned to escort Staros to a waiting area. A tray with a pitcher of water and a single glass was on a table, but Staros had been told it was a bad idea to help oneself to refreshments while waiting on goblins to arrive. As such, he simply wandered around the room and admired the weapons and battle trophies hanging or displayed on shelves.
After about twenty minutes, another goblin showed up to escort Staros to another section of the bank. With the twisting halls and remarkable number of doors, there was no doubt he would never find his way through alone, even with his superior direction sense. The goblin escort seemed to notice Staros' discomfort and grinned in a most evil fashion at him before suddenly stopping at a rather plain looking door and saying, "Enter," in a not so friendly manner.
"Thank you," said Staros, eliciting a look of surprise quickly hidden back under the sneer.
Entering the office, the first thing Staros noticed was the decided lack of trophies. Only a single shelf on the wall behind the desk contained anything at all, that being two large ledgers and what appeared to be a rather smallish, in growth anyway, sized dragon skull, a mere three feet long. Below the empty socketed glare sat a very old goblin behind a very solid looking desk. A single uncomfortable looking wooden chair stood before the desk. Two guards stood just inside the door to either side, unnoticeable until one had already stepped inside.
"Good day to you, sir. Am I right to assume you are the account manager for my family's portfolio here in England?"
The old goblin did a rather decent Spock impression with his raised eyebrow, but out did Leonard with the less than pleased impression it gave off. "I am the account manager of only two families, to which line are you making claim?"
"I am Staros Aniken Marcus of the House of Marcus, Earl of Moneda and Lord Foula, requesting a full accounting of our vaults, holdings, and properties as given in our treaty with Gringotts in 1181. I lay claim to the Line of Marcus and the House Marcus as is pertinent to the lands of England, Wales, Scotland and Ireland, confirmed to service by the Queen of England September two years past," said Staros with a bow.
The goblin looked the boy in front of him over slightly before pulling out a drawer and laying a silver knife and stone bowl on the desk. "We will need proof of your claims, Staros."
"Of course, uh… Hmm, I just realized, that no one has informed me of your name, sir."
"I am the Assessor. Sit."
Staros sat in the offered, and yes, very uncomfortable chair before drawing out his wand from his wrist holster and laying it upon the desk. He noticed the guards tensing as if about to attack when he drew his wand and how they still seemed poised on the edge of violence despite his wand lying on the desk in front of him. A clear look of confusion on his face, he looked at Assessor and asked, "Have customs changed so much in a mere three hundred years? If so, I do apologize for any offense I may have incurred."
"No, young Staros,' said Assessor as he waved the guards back into their places. "You simply reminded us of an old custom long since buried under years of bad reactions and poor manners." With this, Assessor pulled a long knife from his belt and placed it upon the desk next to Staros' wand.
"Now, on to the matter at hand. If you have not used one of these before, child, this is a House claim test. Simply cut yourself with the knife upon your left hand, allow some blood to drop into the bowl and we shall verify your claims."
"Or I die a rather nasty death if I am false, eh Assessor?"
Assessor merely looked at Staros as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Very well, opportunity awaits," said Staros as he picked up the knife. "Carcerous you are ordered to remain still until this is over. Should I fail, you are to report back to father. Under no circumstances are you to take any actions against the goblins, understood?"
"Aye, Master Staros." The elf looked none too pleased by this statement, but would obey.
Staros looked the knife over for a moment and then drew it in a short line across the palm of his left hand. With a hiss of pain, he held his hand for a moment allowing the blood to pool slightly in his palm before tilting it and dribbling it into the bowl. He wiped the knife across his sleeve as he did this and set it back upon the desk. The Assessor nodded to him and then reached over and picked up the knife. Tracing the blade in a reverse of the cut Staros had made, Staros watched as the cut healed itself after which Staros pulled out a small handkerchief and wiped the remaining blood off his hand.
"Thank you, Assessor. How long before the results are known?"
"A few moments, young Staros." Assessor picked up the bowl and laid the knife across the top before waving his hand in a rather complicated pattern over both item. Pulling a piece of parchment from another drawer, he then picked the knife back up, dipped it in the blood, and set the point onto a small rune drawn towards the top of the sheet. Spidery lines began to trace themselves down from the rune, first showing Staros' name, then his father and mother, grandfather, and so forth back through several generations of his family. As they watched, Assessor suddenly nodded and pulled the knife away, stopping whatever magic was involved. With a negligent wave of his hand, the bowl and knife were cleaned and the parchment burned to ash.
"Your claims are established, you are the Heir of Marcus." With that statement, Assessor turned and pulled down one of the two large ledgers from the shelf. "A full accounting of the last three hundred years will take some time to pull together. Would you care for a summary now and a delivery of the details later?"
"That is most acceptable, Assessor. We each have other business to do today, so I would not wish to take up any more of your valuable time with what will amount to a rather dull list of every transaction made. Current status and values is fine for the moment, as well as a trip to the family vault. There are a couple of items I am told I must retrieve."
"As you say, young Staros. I shall have you escorted down to your vault and here is a listing of your current holdings and values." Assessor slid a bound folder out of the ledger and across the desk. "It is a pleasure to work with your family again. I was your ancestor's manager before taking up this position and the only two accounts I held onto were the Marcus and Potter ledgers."
"Potter? Hmm, oh yes. Rivals at one time or another, like the Blacks. Just as often allies. Have they recovered from that little tiff I read about? The Queen was most concerned with some of the odd rumors she managed to squeeze from the Ministry during the, what was it called? The war with Voldemort?"
A brief look of surprise crossed the Assessor's face before he said, "Ah, yes. You have only recently returned from exile. Your family may not be fully up to date on all that has happened. The Potter line is nearly extinct I am sad to say, courtesy of a war with that powerful Dark Lord that started about 15 years ago. The family had the misfortune of being an irritation to him and he decided to end them completely. Somehow, he managed only to destroy himself, but not before killing the last heir's parents, nearly killing off a dozen other lines of succession, and generally making a mess of magical Britain. Since during the fight he was killed off as well, it left the sole witness a year old babe. He'd be about your age now; you will probably meet him in Hogwarts if you plan on attending."
"Yes, a condition of my grandfather and the Queen's agreement. I must attend this so called premier academy of magic. Pfftt. If it was so good, why haven't I seen anything published from it in any of the discovery newsletters? I had to dredge around in archives before I found a mention of it at all. Seems only a certain potions master has made any name for the school in a long while."
"Indeed, well, enough chatter. Your escort is here, young Staros. Please leave word of your location with the front desk and your full accounting shall be delivered in the next two days."
"Thank you for your time, Assessor. May your enemies falter and your cup run over." Staros retrieved his wand, bowed, and made his way out with his escort.
Some time, and a thoroughly exhilarating cart ride later, Staros stood before his family's title vault. The goblin escorting him stepped out of the cart and shoved the lamp into Staros' hands. Looking over the door, he looked back and said, "Key please."
Staros was confused for a moment, but then he remembered the ring his grandfather had given him. Handing the lamp back to the goblin, he pulled the ring off his left middle finger and looked it over. Seeing a single rune set on the inside of the band, he smiled and handed the ring to the goblin, taking back the lamp.
The goblin frowned and looked at the ring before turning to the door and shoving the ring into an odd depression to one side of the keyhole. A slight click, and then a dull thunk sounded. A few seconds later, the doors began to quietly move outward on hidden hinges.
"I will wait in the cart," said the goblin, moving back away from the doors, and of course, taking the lamp with him. At least he gave back the ring before hurrying off.
"Well, Carcerous, shall we?" asked Staros as he walked through the doors. Inside, charmed lamps lit as he passed the threshold and cast pale light about the entry. Other lamps lit in sequence both left and right around the room until the whole vault was lit displaying dozens of chests, numerous wardrobes and cabinets, shelves and armor racks, weapons displays and trophy cases, and a single podium just to the fore of the doorway. On it was a book and a small jewelry box.
Staros stepped up to the podium and glanced at the book title. As he suspected, it was a ledger of the vault contents, of interest later, but for now the box was more important. Lifting the lid of the box, he looked down upon the strangely woven silver and gold chain that held a rather disturbing looking pendant of blackened gold with a dark teardrop ruby set center. The pendant seemed to pulse as he traced his hands over the chain before lifting it out of the box.
"This is the Legacy of the Marcus family, Carcerous. Within this stone resides our greatest power, our oldest wisdom, and our strongest curse. It has held us through dark times and bounty, through centuries of doubt and fear, and helped guide us towards the vision seen so many years ago."
"I be seein' strong magic der Master Staros. Dis be da gem I be hearin' about all dese years?"
"Aye, that and more. The rumors hardly touch the surface of it," Staros said as he slipped the chain over his head, settling the pendant on his chest. A pulse of magic and the chain resized to hold itself just over the boy's heart while the ruby darkened just a bit more. A shudder passed through Staros. "It is done. I have claimed the House of Marcus. Let us finish our business in the alley and then I need to get some sleep."
After gathering some of the coinage, and briefly wondering why magical Britain hadn't caught up with the rest of the world economy and standardized the silver and gold values to simpler math formulae while still using bronze of all things, Staros and Carcerous made their way back to the carts and another wild ride later, were escorted out into the main lobby. Thanking the goblin who led them out, Staros strode out of the building with elf following.
"Master Staros, sir. We be needin' to get you a wand, sir," said Carcerous after they had been shopping for other materials. Already packed into a rather nice trunk with the Hogwarts arms were a complete potions regimen, with several extras, a rather large collection of books including many not part of the current curriculum, and the school robes and uniforms that every private school on the planet seemed to delight in forcing their students to wear. At least they were of a better than standard cloth and the charms on them superior to most.
"Why, exactly do I need a wand, Carcerous? I already have one."
"Remember, Master Staros, sir, your fadder be sayin' about da Trace and how wizards in school must be havin' a wand made by Ollivander, sir."
"Ollivander? Very well, if I must, I must. Lead on."
Walking into Ollivander's wand shop, Staros was not overly impressed. Everywhere were stacks of boxes with premade wands. No cores, no wood samples, no gems collections, no staves or rods, just wand boxes. Was this really the shop of a wand crafter?
When the very strange looking man who must be Ollivander stepped out of nowhere, Staros almost threw a curse at him. The old man looked down at the wand already in Staros' hand and looked back up, raising an eyebrow.
"I apologize, sir. You startled me."
"And what brings you to my shop today, young man?"
"I am told that I must have one of your wands while I attend school at Hogwarts, sir. I am not much happy about it, seeing as I already have a wand, but the rules are the rules as they say."
"Indeed. Might I see this wand of yours, my boy?"
"As long as you aren't going to muck it up with this Trace I have heard your Ministry enforces on students. I'll not have you messing with one of Carnegie's masterpieces with foreign magics."
"Carnegie? Oh, yes, I remember him. No, I assure you I shall not do anything to your wand, lad. Although I am even more curious about it now since Carnegie was an apprentice of mine."
Staros handed the man his wand, keeping a careful eye on him the whole time. He turned the wand over in his hands, examining the dragon and wolf carvings and the small emerald stone set in the base. He traced his fingers along the seams made by the two woods and how the carvings made the woods appear to almost be parts of a single, if twin colored, piece. A few flicks and swishes causing some colored lights and a sprinkling of golden dust and Ollivander handed the wand back.
"I think I know just the wand for you, my boy," he said as he started rummaging through the piles of boxes. "Ah, here, try this one out."
A couple of swishes produced no effect and the old man took the wand back, handing Staros another. A few more exchanges like this, one resulting in a very exploded, although it was half dead already, potted plant in one corner, and Staros was finally handed a wand that produced some silver streamers when he waved it.
"Ah yes. Ten inches, rowan wood, quite sturdy with a core of werewolf fur. An oddity in my shop to be sure, but one I was quite proud to make."
"Hmmm… Interesting seeing as how my wand from Carnegie is Rowan and Ebony, werewolf and a Hebridean Black dragon heartstring. Anyway, are there any rules I should know about possessing more than one wand?"
"Well, lad, the Ministry prefers that all wands be registered, but seeing you are the Head of House by that ring there, I believe you are allowed an exception."
"Thank you for your time, Mr. Ollivander. I really must be going now." Staros picked out some care materials and paid for it all before making his way back to the hotel.