Heaps of gold galleons, stacks of silver sickles, piles of bronze nuts.

Harry stood there and stared with his mouth open at the family vault.

He had so many questions he didn't know where to start.

From just outside the door of the vault, Professor McGonigal watched him, seeming to lean casually against the wall, but her eyes intent.

Well, that made sense.

Being plopped in front of a giant heap of gold coins was a test of character so pure it was archetypal.

Are these coins the pure metal?

Harry said finally.

What?

What?

Hissed the goblin grip hook, who was waiting near the door.

Are you questioning the integrity of Gringots, Mr. Potter, Evan Veres?

No, said Harry absently.

Not at all. Sorry if that came out wrong, sir.

I just have no idea at all how your financial system works.

I'm asking if galleons in general are made of pure gold.

Of course, said Grip Hook.

And can anyone coin them, or are they issued by a monopoly that thereby collects seniorage?

What?

Said Professor McGonagall.

Grip Hook grand, showing sharp teeth. Only a fool would trust any but goblin coin.

In other words, Harry said, the coins aren't supposed to be worth any more than the metal making

...