As editor-in-chief of The Quibbler, Xenophilius Lovegood was certainly no stranger to crafting unconventional headlines — but even so, he preferred to proceed with caution.
"To be safe," he said with a serious face, "you'd better write to Professor Snape. Get his thoughts on the whole matter."
He puffed out his chest dramatically, as if anticipating judgment. "And let me be clear — this is not because I'm afraid of Snape!"
"It's just," he added in a tone of unconvincing nonchalance, "that consulting him directly avoids unnecessary disputes."
"I understand," Vizet said, nodding gravely and trying his best to keep a straight face. "It really can save a lot of trouble."
Luna was smiling with eyes that curved like crescent moons, clearly amused.
Xenophilius, catching on, gave a pointed cough and turned to her. "Sweetheart, go out and pick some fresh whiteleaf for Vizet. Let him examine the quality."
Vizet made to follow, but Xenophilius stopped him with a gesture. "Wait. That book on trolls — you were the reason it got front-row placement in Flourish and Blotts, weren't you?"
"Me?" Vizet blinked. "Maybe… Mr. Bagshot's always been kind to me."
Xenophilius raised an eyebrow. "Well, he's been poking around. Asking about your background. Think I wouldn't notice?"
He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "The fact you ended up here at all — don't forget, that was arranged by that old jellybean from the Ministry."
"Old… jellybean?"
"Cornelius Fudge!" Xenophilius threw up his hands. "What is a fudge but a jellybean? Anyway — he's clever. Too clever."
He leaned in, eyes gleaming. "Ever hear about the Gringotts break-in last year?"
"Yeah, it was all over the papers."
"That was his fault. Jellybean meddling again! He'll do anything — assassinate a leprechaun, turn one into a pie, maybe even drown it!"
"...Huh?"
"Shocking, isn't it? But he's built a whole army of Black Leopards just to keep Dumbledore in check!"
"Against Dumbledore?"
"Oh yes! He's terrified the Headmaster'll take his seat. Fudge may look soft, but he's got a heart of ash. Dark as they come."
"I see. I'll keep it in mind."
"Good lad! Always remember — Jellybean isn't just a man. He's a machination." Xenophilius gave a grave nod. "And don't even ask about the poisons the Department of Mysteries is working on. One wrong word and — bam! You're the next name on the list."
He leaned back dramatically. "That's why I'm telling you all this. You're one of us now, Vizet. You deserve to know."
From the whirlwind of theories and conspiracies, Vizet could only pick out one detail that felt even remotely plausible — Fudge's suspicion of Dumbledore. That part, at least, seemed grounded in reality.
Thankfully, before his brain could fully unravel, Luna returned.
To Vizet, she may as well have descended on wings of salvation.
Not only had she brought back two fresh whiteleaf samples, but she'd also washed a small plate of Dirigible Plums to serve as dessert.
Xenophilius picked one up, swirling it in the light with great reverence. "My darling is as beautiful as an elf!"
Vizet nodded wordlessly. That, at least, was the one thing tonight that made perfect sense.
"I just did what I could…" Luna murmured, her face faintly pink as she looked away. In that moment, she seemed softer and lovelier than even the most delicate Dirigible Plum.
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Xenophilius, true to form, was a man of action — especially when recovering lost dignity. The very next morning, he rose early and set off for the Leaky Cauldron with Vizet and Luna in tow.
To reclaim the "majesty" he'd felt stripped of the day before, he insisted on once again taking the Muggle bus — this time to queue at the Ministry of Magic and apply for a wizard's passport.
Before parting, Vizet discreetly prepared the fare for him and waved goodbye as Xenophilius disappeared into the crowd near the Ministry entrance.
Afterwards, Vizet pulled out his Hogwarts supply list from the previous year and began cross-checking it.
"Except for the textbooks, we can buy everything else in advance," he said, scanning the parchment. "That'll make things easier next time we come."
This outing was part of Xenophilius's instructions. While he handled Ministry paperwork, Vizet was to escort Luna through Diagon Alley to pick up any admission essentials.
Mr. Bagshot wasn't in the bookshop, so the two didn't linger and soon launched into their shopping mission in earnest. They moved swiftly through the cobbled street, purchasing a pewter cauldron, crystal potion bottles, a telescope, quills, ink, parchment, and a few other tools of the trade.
When they stepped into Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, they were immediately greeted by the owner herself, resplendent in a glittering brooch and lace-trimmed robe.
"Oh — my lovely little customers! I thought I recognized you," she sang. "You were in just last year, weren't you? What are we looking for today — standard or custom?"
Vizet offered a small, embarrassed smile. "Just like last year, please."
"A good boy," Madam Malkin declared warmly. "I'll see to it right away!"
Her eyes moved to Luna, who stood quietly beside him. With a flick of her wand, a soft-spoken measuring tape sprang to life, fluttering through the air and weaving around Luna's shoulders and waist.
Even in a simple black school robe, Luna seemed to glow. Madam Malkin, perhaps inspired, had added delicate modifications to the girls' uniform this year: a floating ribbon tie that bowed at the collar and a slim satin band sewn into the inner waist to create a flattering silhouette.
The addition suited Luna's serene smile and graceful posture so well that she appeared — more than ever — like something from a dream.
"What a beautiful girl," Madam Malkin beamed. "Would you like to try something besides the school robes as well?"
She turned on Vizet, slyly persuasive. "See? She looks stunning in just the basics — imagine if we dressed her properly! Why not browse a bit more?"
Vizet glanced at Luna, who was now turning faintly pink — her fair skin tinted with a flush like blooming cherry blossoms.
"It does look great," he admitted with a solemn nod. "Luna, do you want anything else?"
"I bought a lot during the Christmas holiday," she said softly, brushing a lock of pale hair behind her ear. "It's enough for now… maybe next time."
"Next time it is, then! Thank you, Madam Malkin," Vizet said with a grateful bow.
The chime of the doorbell followed them as they stepped back into the sunlight.
Whether it was the lingering warmth of summer or some other cause, Vizet noticed Luna's blush hadn't quite faded. So, with a small smile, he gently steered her toward Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.
Inside, the cheerful clink of metal and the smell of sugar filled the air. Florean himself stood behind the counter, guiding a massive block of ice through the air with his wand. The spinning block shaved itself down, glittering in the sunbeams that danced through the shop windows.
The flakes of ice gathered into a perfect sphere, then Florean conjured a stream of bright strawberry syrup that poured onto the ball like molten rubies. It dropped smoothly into a glass of pink smoothie, and finally, a scoop of owl-shaped ice cream floated up and landed delicately on top.
Many girls liked sweets — and even those who didn't still found themselves enchanted by such whimsical shapes. Luna was no exception; her wide eyes sparkled like polished crystal as she watched the ice cream owl flap its wings before settling in the glass.
Florean chuckled as he lowered his wand. "So, what can I get for you two?"
Luna didn't answer him directly. Instead, she turned to Vizet, her voice quiet. "I… want a smoothie. Citrus flavor."
Vizet saw the flicker of hesitation in her eyes, that tiny moment of uncertainty.
He hummed thoughtfully, then turned to Florean with a small grin. "One citrus smoothie, small size — plus a mini owl ice cream, please."
"Of course! No trouble at all — just a moment!"
Luna didn't say anything, but her smile said enough.
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