The goblin led them to a counter without saying a word, then turned and walked off.
The goblin behind the counter checked their request and the fake smile dropped off his face completely.
“Name.”
“Lucas McGregor.”
The goblin pulled out a list stamped with the Hogwarts crest.
He scanned it, found Lucas’s name, and narrowed his eyes, studying him.
“Hmm… I’m not sure.
How do you prove you’re Lucas McGregor?”
Lucas blinked.
How do I prove I’m me?
The goblin drew out the words.
“Per regulations, you should first provide the proper documentation…”
“I’m Pomona Sprout, Herbology professor at Hogwarts,” Sprout cut in, her voice tight with rare anger.
“Headmaster Dumbledore sent me to guide this boy through his pre-enrollment errands.
My word should be more than enough, don’t you think?”
The goblin looked at her, startled, and quickly tucked the list away.
“Ah—yes, of course.
Forgive me, I didn’t notice you right away…”
He turned back to Lucas, but the attitude stayed just as cold.
“Five pounds to one Galleon.”
Lucas set the money bag he’d been clutching on the counter and started to empty it.
The goblin gave the bag one contemptuous glance and said in a tone that grated, “You may exchange up to fifty Galleons.
Don’t bother taking out more.”
“Fifty Galleons?” Lucas froze—that was two hundred and fifty pounds.
“Why?
I brought plenty.
I can exchange more…”
The goblin let out a short, mocking laugh.
“Why?
You think these Muggle paper scraps are actually useful to us?
Letting you exchange at all is a special policy from Hogwarts and the Ministry for… students like you.
In plain terms, it’s a pitiful little grant.”
Lucas glanced at Professor Sprout.
She gave him a reassuring nod.
“That’s correct, Lucas.
Don’t worry—the amount was calculated.
If you’re careful, it’s enough to cover everything on the list.”
“Can I do this more than once?” Lucas asked.
“Depends on how many years you last at Hogwarts,” the goblin snapped, tapping the counter impatiently.
“Starting first year, it’s fifty Galleons a year, maximum.
Once you leave Hogwarts, that little perk disappears.”
Lucas counted out two hundred and fifty pounds.
The goblin snatched the notes without counting them and tossed the whole wad into a basket beside him.
Then he sighed, dragged open a drawer, and—looking physically pained—counted out fifty thick gold coins one by one.
He dropped them into a small leather pouch and shoved it across the counter like it hurt to let go.
He turned to Sprout with a heavy sigh.
“See?
A few worthless scraps of paper for a pile of Galleons.
That’s why we have to verify identity.
Otherwise some desperate pure-blood or half-blood might try to impersonate a Muggle student and scam the grant.”
“Lucas, pay him no mind,” Sprout said once they stepped outside Gringotts.
“Hogwarts has plenty of Muggle-born students.
More than a quarter of them receive this every year.”
“And many of those Muggle-borns went on to do remarkable things—wizards who changed the world.
Everyone believes you’ll become an outstanding one yourself.”
Lucas didn’t need the comfort.
A bright, genuine smile spread across his face.
Fifty Galleons—two hundred and fifty pounds.
That’s really enough?
That’s perfect.
Grandpa’s hard-earned savings would stay mostly untouched.
He nodded.
“Got it, Professor.
I’ll do my best.
Now could you show me where to buy everything on the list?”
Sprout smiled back.
“If we bought every single item brand new, those fifty Galleons would vanish.
If you don’t mind second-hand things, I can help you shop smart and stretch the money.”
“I don’t mind at all,” Lucas said.
“Lead the way, Professor.”
Sprout took the supply list.
“First, the textbooks—The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1), Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi… New copies run one or two Galleons each.
Used ones are only a few Sickles.
We’ll hit the second-hand bookshop for those.
The books may be pre-owned, but the knowledge is brand new.”
“Then the school robes, pointed hat, protective gloves, cloak… Fit and comfort matter more than newness, so we’ll get those measured and made at Madam Malkin’s.”
“Oh, and your wand!
You definitely need a brand-new one that’s truly yours.
Second-hand wands have murky histories and can mess with your casting—bad news for a first-year.”
“Telescope and brass scales can be second-hand as long as they’re accurate.
But the cauldron and glass phials are better bought new—who knows what old potions were cooked in them.
Some residues never come out…”
“There we go.
That leaves you a few Galleons spare.” Sprout handed the list back with a smile.
“Maybe enough for a pet.”
A pet?
Lucas perked up.
The list mentioned an owl, cat, or toad, but Sprout had already told him any non-dangerous creature was fine.
They started shopping, working from closest to farthest.
First they stopped at Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions to get measured for his uniforms.
Then they skipped the towering Flourish and Blotts and stepped into a nearby second-hand bookstore.
“Hello, John.
How’s business?”
A tall, skinny young wizard poked his head up from behind a teetering stack of books, eyes widening in surprise.
“Professor Sprout!
What brings you—”
Sprout patted Lucas’s shoulder.
“This is Lucas, a new Hogwarts first-year.
I’m helping him pick up his textbooks.”
John’s face lit with understanding.
“I’ve got you covered, Professor!”
He shook Lucas’s hand warmly.
“Hi, Lucas.
Picked a house yet?
Since Professor Sprout’s your guide, you’re obviously headed for Hufflepuff, right?
I graduated from there myself—three years ago, actually…”
Sprout gave a helpless smile.
“John, we’re on a schedule.”
“Right, right.” John waved Lucas deeper into the shop.
Tall piles of used books leaned everywhere, shelves crammed with leather-bound volumes, silk-covered tomes, old parchment, papyrus scrolls, and even a few clay tablets that kept vibrating on their own.