Finally, the summer is over. Soccer is over. The writing season has begun...summer was awesome...slept...ate...played some video games...won my custody trial (yay!)...shot some Gungans...good times. Here is a new chapter and I will attempt to recreate any semblance of a writing schedule. Yup. Enjoy.

P.S. She-jew-el...schedule...hehe. Sorry. (#dienaziscum)

August 31st, 1994

Wolf walked through the busy street, dodging the tidal wave of over-eager first-year students-to-be. He remembered the feeling clearly, and as so, he did not complain when several students ran headlong into him. As he walked, he checked off a mental checklist. Pet: Check. Robes: Check. Gringotts visit: Done. In fact, the goblins had been so efficient at transferring his account contents from California to here; it had taken only ten minutes, as opposed to the ten days it would have taken the comparatively doddering fools of the bank wizards at the West-Coast Rock-feller's Bank. As walked to the Leaky Cauldron, where he was staying that night, he admired once more the ring around his finger. Considering all the implication is would have this year.

An hour and a half earlier:

It had started when Wolf had entered the wand-shop, Ollivander's. The entrance room was dusty, with two faded chairs and a stained coffee table. Cobwebs lined the eaves and rafters. Behind a massive oaken counter was shelf upon shelf of small boxes. There must have been hundreds upon hundreds of wands.

"Indeed my boy." A cracked voice whispered from beside him. Wolf whipped his head around to see an old wizened man with hair reminiscent of Einstein. The man cocked his head. "An American… interesting, very interesting. I assume you need a wand, and therefore have a staff, may I see it?" Wolf figured he had little to fear, and pulled out a wooden cork. Upon being squeezed, the cork elongated into Wolf's staff. Ollivander nodded. Redwood, five feet three inches; the feather from a Thunderbird's tail as a core, and crafted by Toraga Tree-speaker. A grand staff maker, that elf, a great one." Wolf looked stunned, word by word correct. The old man was Einstein. The "Einstein wanna-be" returned the stave to its owner, before disappearing into the back isles. He returned with a birch wand. It proved to be too short.

The next wand was of the wrong material, according to Ollivander, and was tossed unceremoniously onto the massive counter. The third wand almost set the old wand-maker's hair on fire, and was therefore deemed improper. The fourth proved to be deaf, dumb, and blind to all of the wizards' coercions. The fifth was too 'slimy', and Wolf agreed after the sixth that he was not into birch wood either. Ollivander brought the next three in together. The seventh wand proved to be not so lucky and, much to the old man's amusement proceeded to incinerate the box of the ninth wand. The eighth wand blew up several shelves of wands, and was quickly confiscated by the proper authorities, aka Ollivander. The tenth wand procured a spider large enough for all the multitude of cob-webs in the room at once. After much screaming from a blonde first-year girl who walked in at the wrong time, the spider was banished. The eleventh wand did nothing at first, but it was later found to have turned the tired chairs' stuffing into cotton candy. Eventually the pile of wands began to grow, and as frustrated as Wolf became, the wand-maker became more and more excited.

Finally, the old man walked deep into the darkness and returned with an ornate metal box. Inside rested the most beautiful wand Wolf had seen yet. Its handle was wrapped in gold, and continued to form a hissing snake at the pommel. In the snake's jaws was what seemed to be a pearl. The wand itself was a very dark brown, with gold flecks embedded in it. "Twelve and a half inches, African Blackwood, with a thorn from a Manticore's tail as a core." As soon as Wolf touched the wand a bright white light filled the room, receding to reveal a ghostly apparition of a beautiful woman, lounging on a couch. Her dark hair cascaded down past her shoulders with a golden band on her brow. She wore a nightgown of silk that ended less than a foot below her waist. Several more bands of gold adorned her arm.

"Child, as I record this message, I know my death looms near. The forces that I have for so long defied, will soon be able to strike. I am sure it will be deemed a suicide and, as such my fortunes will pass to my supposed lover. With this magically binding Will, however, all my personal fortunes will be collectively given over to my dear friend, Master Ravensmirk II until a suitable heir has been chosen by my wand. My heir will be a decedent of my dear brother, who currently resides in my birthplace of Macedonia. The gold, silver, and copper in my vault are to be used for the establishment of a goblin bank under the guidelines set in a letter I have written to him. Any funds used by the goblins from the Ptolemy fortunes are to be returned with interest on the awakening of a suitable heir.

"As you now hold my wand you need know but two things. You are the ancestor to one of the most powerful magical families in history. Whatever fame you earn will shape the future of our name. Be great. Second, a more detailed description of your fortune can be found in your vault as well as in a magical pocket in space you can access with a simple press of your family ring. Just imagining the pocket will enable you to reach it. Farewell."

As the ghostly woman vanished, a ring appeared on Wolf's hand. It was a platinum band dotted with shards of onyx. An emerald snake coiled around it, weaving between the onyx pieces. The snakes eyes were minuscule rubies. Written in flowing gold script on the edge was emblazoned "Ptolemy". Ollivander looked shell shocked. "Son, I admit that my Egyptian is rusty, but do you realize who that was." At Wolf's shaking head, he continued. "Cleopatra Ptolemy, Arch-mage, Battle-master and Pharaoh of Egypt; she is also widely considered to be the most powerful Summoner and Duelist in history."

Wolf walked into Gringott's lobby, surveying the horseshoe array of desks, each with a goblin sitting behind it. Picking randomly, he walked up to a teller. This goblin was pale grey, with long tattered ears. Golden earrings punctuated the wrinkling flesh, and yellow slits cleft gaping wounds for eyes. A constant, and slightly feral, smirk added jagged fangs to his visage.

"Hello…I was looking for access to the Ptolemy vault." Wolf said, slightly nervous in the face of this admittedly terrifying creature. The goblin stopped mid stamp, raising its head to survey the individual who had asked to see the most ancient vault the Goblins had ever guarded. Seeing the ring that gleamed on the boy's finger, the grey creature quickly mouthed a wand-less spell, one reserved for just this occasion. He quickly got off of his bench.

"This way, young sir," the creature rasped, "The Director would have a word with you." Wolf followed quickly as the goblin stomped off. He was led through a maze of passageways until he arrived at a solid ebony door. The goblin knocked thrice, before opening it. The room was spartanly decorated, with a large fireplace dominating each wall. A long table covered with neat piles of paper sat at the end. Through a gap in the papers, Wolf could see a very well dressed Goblin sitting, golden rings dotting his clasped hands.

"Thank you, Broodfang, that will be all." The tattered eared goblin nodded once to the Director, and once to Wolf before closing the doors. The Director stood, motioning for Wolf to take a seat. "Ah, you must forgive me; it has been a long while since a descendent of the Ptolemy line has graced a goblin with their presence. The last it seems, was Cleopatra herself, upon donating money to found this Bank. Of course, not this bank itself, for this branch was constructed in the 1400's, but the great Goblin Bank of Nations that Ravensmirk II built. Where are my manners? My name is Drell Ravensmirk VII." At this, the goblin reached out a wrinkled hand and Wolf took it.

"I'm Wolf, Wolf Stargem." Ravensmirk nodded.

"Now to the reason for your visit, I assume that you would like to see the contents of your vault?" At Wolf's nod, he removed a small folder labeled Vault 4, and passed it across the table. As Wolf opened it his eyes widened. Ravensmirk justified his name as he waited for the young man in front of him to finish reading the documents.

"Well….wow." Wolf was nearly speechless. The paper had also assigned values to properties, shares in companies, and alliance contracts. Furthermore, it had translated it all into a single sum in US dollars. He'd bee hugging Nicky Oppenheimer on the Forbes 400. That is, of course, if you didn't have to split it with… he cut off the familiar voice in his head with a quick acceptance. He ran back over the list. Then again, some of the alliances were invaluable. Ravensmirk slid a few items across the table. The first was a black steel card with Gringott's flowing across the front in golden calligraphy. The second was a small clear prism, the same size and shape as a ten-sided dice. It looked like glass, with blue tendrils of color undulating in its depths. The third object was what looked like a muggle cheque-book, following the same black and gold design as the metal card.

"The first object works just like a human's debit card, withdrawing money from your account for use both in and out of the magical world. The third item is also what it looks like, not all stores are set up for the card yet. The prism is your key to Vault 4, just slide it into the key-hole and the rest is magic." Ravensmirk did just that, and action reminiscent of the most terrifying horror movies. "It also serves as a port key directly to your accounatnt , and will glow red and heat up if any of your finances are in peril. As a final security measure, it is coded to your magical core, therefore preventing any others from using it to access your vault. All that remains is to assign a goblin to be your personal accountant, but I will take care of that." He reached across the table to shake Wolf's hand, and he did, rising to do so.

Less than ten minutes after leaving his desk, Broodfang returned to find a strange letter on it, one that had not been there before. A wax seal was emblazoned with a sideways eye, the pupil replaced with three interlocking diamonds. Broodfang instantly recognized it and frowned. What did they want? He opened the letter before raising an eyebrow. And for the second time that day, he stomped off to find the Director. In the shadows of the rafters high above, a figure watched the goblin depart, smiling to himself.

So, what'cha think? Any good. Do you want the secondary POV next chapter to be Nero? Mystery guy? New character (got plenty of those cooked up)? Review please. If you don't, then you are a llama...that is supposed to be a bad thing...right? :)

P.S. Don't own 'nuthin but my own characters...and I will go all Scottish-Polish-American-Viking on your derrier if you try and steal them...ze preciouses... :D

Otiis Omnibus,

Teenage-Twi'lek