Lucius watched his grandson, eyes bright with awe, turn the shiny, golden Galleon in his small hands. The young boy was oblivious to the bustling world of Diagon Alley just outside the shop window of Fontenescue's.
"A wonderful thing, is it not?" the older man said gravely. "Money is a powerful thing, Alexander. You can tear apart kingdoms and put them back together if you learn to wield it well."
Alexander looked up at him with the wide eyes he'd inherited from his mother. "Truly, Grandfather? Kingdoms?"
"Indeed," Lucius said, nodding. "That solitary Galleon shall be the first of many. If you're quite done with your ice cream, we'll head to Gringotts to open your first vault."
The child bent his red-gold head over his bowl and finished the sundae hastily. "Done."
"You've something on your chin," Lucius said austerely.
Alexander sighed and wiped at his face. "Okay, I'm ready now." He fingered the hard, gold metal as Lucius paid the bill, then jumped up to walk out ahead of his grandfather. He paused at the sidewalk and offered Lucius his small hand, which the older man took after a second's pause.
"Now, there are several things you must consider when investing your wealth," Lucius began, but his grandson interrupted him.
"Look! Grandfather! Balloons!"
Lucius turned to see a street vendor carrying a large bunch of balloons enchanted like animals. As he watched, an elephant-shaped balloon trumpeted his horn, and Lucius shuddered. Some people had no class when it came to the application of magical power.
But Alexander seemed to have other ideas. "Grandfather, I want a balloon! Please, Grandfather."
Lucius grasped the boy's hand firmly and strode away down the street. "No, Alexander. Those cost money, and they're a waste."
The boy tugged insistently. "No, Grandfather! I want the lion! And I have money!"
He yanked his hand away and sprinted back down the street. Lucius watched gravely as the boy handed his precious Galleon over to the vendor and received a roaring blue lion in return, then skipped back with glee, change clanging in his hands.
The elder man sighed and grasped the small hand again, pulling the five-year-old into the hallowed halls of Gringotts to open an account with sixteen sickles and twenty-one knuts.
Maybe he'd have to break tradition and entail the estate on little Giselle. She seemed extremely tight-fisted. For an infant.
A/N: I know it might have fit Lucius better to have him drag the child into the bank sans-balloon to teach him a lesson, but I like to think that age and grandchildren have softened him somewhat. Besides, in my head, Ginny threatened him a good deal before she let him take the boy out alone – hence the ice cream. ;)