"Normally, you can only exchange up to seventy Galleons, but since you’re with Professor Dumbledore, I’ll make an exception and give you a limit of a hundred.
"That’s five hundred and five pounds, with a five-pound transaction fee."
"That’s it?" Tom frowned in annoyance. "But Professor Dumbledore just told me most people can exchange around two hundred Galleons."
"That was a long time ago," the goblin replied flatly.
Goblins rarely bothered being polite to people who couldn’t make them money—but Dumbledore’s presence clearly bought Tom a little extra patience.
"Muggle currency isn’t worth much to us. We hardly use up the pounds we exchange every year. So Gringotts limits how much we take. Still, don’t underestimate it—this should be enough to cover your first year at Hogwarts."
"Two hundred Galleons? That was fifty years ago. You Muggles really think your money’s worth that much now?"
"Sorry, Tom," Dumbledore said with an awkward smile. "Last time I brought a student to Gringotts was over forty years ago. I suppose I’m a bit out of date."
Tom couldn’t help but roll his eyes.
Forty years? Prices in the Muggle world had probably tripled since then. Honestly, considering inflation, the goblins were being... surprisingly fair?
"Professor, can I borrow some money?" Tom asked casually, striking while the iron was hot.
"I don’t think this’ll be enough to get all the books I want. I can pay you back in pounds, or—if you’re patient—you could wait until I graduate and I’ll repay you in Galleons. With interest, of course."
Tom was secretly hoping Dumbledore would pick the second option. After all, Dumbledore was supposed to kick the bucket in his sixth year—free money, anyone?
"Muggle money doesn’t mean much to me," Dumbledore said with a chuckle. "Alright, you can pay me back after you graduate. I’ll look forward to it."
Dumbledore had always been generous with his students, even financially. And since this shortfall was partly his fault, he agreed readily.
"Wait here a moment. I’ll go fetch the money—and take care of a few personal matters while I’m at it."
With that, he followed a goblin toward the vaults.
Tom’s heart skipped a beat.
Wait... personal matters? Wasn’t it supposed to be Hagrid who picked up the Philosopher’s Stone? Could Dumbledore be changing plans because of his presence?
...Well, whatever. Not his business. After giving it a moment’s thought, Tom lost interest and started asking another goblin about the possibility of exchanging gold for Galleons.
The answer? Yes, it was possible—but the rates were robbery.
At the current exchange rate, five pounds could buy roughly 0.8 grams of gold. And it took ten grams of gold to get one
That meant one Galleon cost about sixty pounds. Over twelve times the original amount.
Despite the name, Galleons weren’t actually made of gold. They were goblin-made alloy coins—who knows what was in them?
After doing the math, Tom quickly gave up on the idea. His Muggle savings would be gone in no time. It made more sense to earn and spend money within the magical world.
About half an hour later, Dumbledore returned to the Gringotts lobby holding a small pouch and a key.
He handed both to Tom.
"There’s a hundred Galleons in here," he said. "I also rented a vault for you and stored another six hundred Galleons inside."
He gave Tom a gentle reminder: "Try to manage it wisely."
"Thank you, Professor. I’ll definitely use it well," Tom said with a grateful smile, though inwardly he was a little stunned at Dumbledore’s generosity.
That was more than enough to comfortably get him through all seven years at Hogwarts... as long as he didn’t blow it on luxury items like custom robes or a high-end broomstick.
Dumbledore blinked, sensing something was off in Tom’s tone, but couldn’t quite place it. So he changed the subject.
"Let’s go, Mr. Riddle. We still have quite a few things to buy."
They left Gringotts and went shopping for school supplies—robes, textbooks, scales, a cauldron. Thanks to Dumbledore’s presence, the shopkeepers were extra polite and even gave them discounts.
Still, even with discounts, they spent over forty Galleons. Without them, it would’ve been closer to fifty.
And with the wand purchase coming up, Tom’s fixed costs would total more than sixty Galleons.
If he’d only been allowed to exchange seventy, he’d barely have anything left over. Getting through a semester would’ve been possible, sure—but it would’ve been tight. Food and lodging at Hogwarts were free, but there wouldn’t be much wiggle room.
Ron Weasley’s yearly allowance was rumored to be less than a Galleon, so by comparison, Tom was practically a millionaire.
Tom had already spotted several interesting books, all quite pricey. He planned to come back on his own later to buy them.
With Dumbledore hovering around, he felt too self-conscious—he didn’t want his every action being overanalyzed.
Besides, he had no intention of sticking to just that hundred-Galleon allowance. He’d definitely dip into the vault money too.
"Why couldn’t I have gotten a system or something?" Tom thought with a sigh as they entered their last stop for the day—Ollivanders. Without a cheat code, he’d just have to study his way to power like a regular wizard.
The moment they stepped in, Tom instinctively held his breath, not wanting to inhale the dust that puffed into the air as the door creaked open.
"Well, well... what a rare visitor, Albus," said a soft voice.
From between tall shelves stacked with narrow boxes, an old man emerged.
"The last time you came into my shop was... what, forty-eight years ago? And yes, it was also summer."
Dumbledore chuckled helplessly. "Garrick, must you always show off that ridiculous memory of yours? It makes me unbearably jealous."
"Haha, my memory only works when it comes to wands and this shop."
Garrick Ollivander walked up and gave Dumbledore a warm hug, then turned to look at Tom.
"And this must be the lucky young wizard who got Dumbledore himself as a guide. What’s your name, dear boy?"
"Tom," the boy said simply. "Tom Riddle."
Ollivander collapsed onto the floor, eyes wide in stunned disbelief as he stared up at the boy.