The marble floors of Gringotts were too shiny.
Too clean.
Too polished for a place where money bled and legacies rotted in vaults beneath the earth. Leonardo limped toward the front desk, giving the nearest goblin a smirk even though he still had dried blood under his nails and pain behind his eyes.
"I'd like an inheritance test," he said, voice hoarse but sharp.
The goblin, ancient and wrinkled like a sentient raisin in a fancy suit, narrowed its eyes. "That service usually costs—"
"I'm a minor," Leonardo interrupted, smiling like a child who'd already broken three things in the china shop. "Legally a kid. You wouldn't charge a child, would you?"
The goblin's frown deepened, but he gestured to the side.
"Follow me."
Private Chamber – Inheritance Room
Leonardo sat in a chair with his arm extended. A silver dagger, a golden bowl, and the mild dread of discovering he might secretly be the heir to a blood cult.
The goblin pricked his finger and let three drops of blood fall into the bowl.
Magical symbols flared.
Scrolls appeared mid-air.
The goblin studied them. Blinked. Then blinked again.
"Interesting," he murmured.
Leonardo tilted his head. "Lemme guess. I'm the long-lost heir to Voldemort and Batman?"
The goblin ignored the sarcasm.
"Your lineage traces back to a lesser-known sub-race of Homo sapiens... called the Homo Magi, also known as Homo Magus. A magically evolved offshoot of Mankind. Rare. Extremely potent."
Leonardo's eyes narrowed.
"Oh, great. We're in f**ing DC too."*
The goblin continued without pause.
"You also carry distant blood ties to the Pendragon line—King Arthur's kin—and the Peverell family, the original masters of Death."
Leonardo rubbed his temple.
"So I'm a magic mutant descended from Camelot and the Deathly Hallows fan club. Wonderful. That explains nothing, helps no one, and makes my life significantly more complicated."
The goblin offered a polite smile, which on his face looked more like a threat.
"You may claim your family vault when you are of age or accompanied by a magical guardian."
Leonardo nodded slowly.
"Cool. Time to find an adult who won't die immediately around me."
He got up, stretched, popped his neck, and walked out of the chamber like a teenager who just found out he's royalty and still doesn't have Wi-Fi.
Later, in the grand lobby
Leonardo approached another goblin at the main desk.
"Hey, boss. Can you point me to the Leaky Cauldron?"
The goblin looked down at him. "Out the front doors, down the street, third left. Tap the bricks behind the pub."
"Thanks. Also, you guys ever think about installing an escalator or something?"
The goblin glared.
Leonardo winked and walked off.
The Leaky Cauldron – London's Shabbiest Magical Pub
It smelled like beer, wand polish, and questionable life decisions.
Leonardo stepped inside, bloodied coat still half-dried, face tired, eyes a cocktail of sarcasm and sleep deprivation.
He spotted the innkeeper—a grumpy but not-yet-jaded man wiping glasses with a cloth older than time.
Leonardo blinked, then turned on the charm.
Puppy eyes. Lip tremble. Slight shiver.
"E-Excuse me, sir," he whimpered in the most pitiful, orphaned-anime-protagonist voice he could muster. "I'm alone... lost... can I please have a room for the night?"
The man stared at him. Blinked. Sighed.
"Fine. First floor. Room seven. Just don't burn the place down."
Leonardo beamed. "No promises, boss."
Room Seven – Leaky Cauldron
He dropped onto the bed with a grunt.
Old springs creaked. The window rattled. A single candle lit the room with a weak, warm glow.
He stared at the ceiling, mind spinning.
Homo Magi... Pendragon blood... Peverell ancestry...
Marvel... Harry Potter... and now f**ing DC?*
He let out a deep, long sigh.
"All I wanted was to die in peace... not get drafted into the multiversal Hunger Games."
He chuckled to himself.
Then whispered:
"Alright, fate. Deal me in. But just so you know… I cheat."
He closed his eyes.
Sleep came fast.
Revenge would come faster.