On the other hand, one competent hedge fundie could probably own the whole wizarding world within a week. Harry filed away this notion in case he ever ran out of money, or had a week free.
Meanwhile, the giant heaps of gold coins within the Potter vault ought to suit his near-term requirements.
Harry stumped forward, and began picking up gold coins with one hand and dumping them into the other.
When he had reached twenty, Professor McGonagall coughed. "I think that will be more than enough to pay for your school supplies, Mr. Potter."
"Hm?" Harry said, his mind elsewhere. "Hold on, I'm doing a Fermi calculation."
"A
"It's a mathematical thing. Named after Enrico Fermi. A way of getting rough numbers quickly in your head..."
Twenty gold Galleons weighed a tenth of a kilogram, maybe? And gold was, what, ten thousand British pounds a kilogram? So a Galleon would be worth about fifty pounds... The mounds of gold coins looked to be about sixty coins high and twenty coins wide in either dimension of the base, and a mound was pyramidal, so it would be around one-third of the cube. Eight thousand Galleons per mound, roughly, and there were around five mounds of that size, so forty thousand Galleons or 2 million pounds sterling.
Not bad. Harry smiled with a certain grim satisfaction. It was too bad that he was right in the middle of discovering the amazing new world of magic, and couldn't take time out to explore the amazing new world of being rich, which a quick Fermi estimate said was roughly a billion times less interesting.
Harry wheeled from the giant heap of money. "Pardon me for asking, Professor McGonagall, but I understand that my parents were in their twenties when they died. Is this a
Professor McGonagall shook her head. "Your father was the last heir of an old family, Mr. Potter. It's also possible..." The witch hesitated. "Some of this money may be from bounties placed on You-Know-Who, payable to his ki- ah, to whoever might defeat him. Or those bounties might not have been collected yet. I am not sure."
"Interesting..." Harry said slowly. "So some of this really is, in a sense, mine. That is, earned by me. Sort of. Possibly. Even if I don't remember the occasion." Harry's fingers tapped against his trouser-leg. "That makes me feel less guilty about spending
"Mr. Potter! You are a minor, and as such, you will only be allowed to make
"I am
Harry locked gazes with Professor McGonagall, engaging in a silent staring contest.
"Like what?" Professor McGonagall said finally.
"Trunks whose insides hold more than their outsides?"
Professor McGonagall's face grew stern. "Those are
"Yes, but -" Harry pleaded. "I'm sure that when I'm an adult I'll want one. And I
Professor McGonagall's gaze didn't waver. "And just what would you
"Books."
"Of course," sighed Professor McGonagall.
"You should have told me
"
"What?
"Family tradition."
"Yes, exactly."