Again, I made up the name of Luna's father, but I think it fits him, and besides, it ill suits the future editor of The Quibbler to wander about nameless. This is from his past, when he's about to go into Hogwarts. I also made up the shopkeeper, since I imagine Flourish & Botts has gone through some management changes over the years, and this character really interested me.

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Phineas walked across the cobblestones of Diagon Alley, torn between his desire to look in all the strange shop windows and his desire to stay close to his father so he wouldn't get lost. He had a terrible sense of direction even in normal places, which this decidedly was not. So many creatures flying about—people in cloaks—shops selling wands, spellbooks, skulls, dragon talons, and goodness only knew what else.

"Here we are," his father said, opening the door to Flourish & Blotts bookstore. Phineas ducked inside and stared around, wide-eyed. While his father stepped up to the counter to order the textbooks, Phineas began pulling books off the shelves and flipping through them. Encyclopedia of Rare Magical Creatures. Ruminations on the Nature and Origin of Magic. A History of the Goblin Rebellions, Volume 1.

He hardly knew where to begin, so he opened a book at random and began reading the introduction. His brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to puzzle out the meaning of the word "apparition." A dry laugh interrupted him. "Give yourself a few more years before you try reading any of those," a woman said. "Right now, you won't understand a thing."

Phineas looked up and noticed the shopkeeper, a dark-skinned, sharp-faced woman with lustrous black hair pulled back in a braid. "Well," he replied, "if I had to wait until I understood everything, I'd never get to read anything at all."

She let out a surprised laugh. "I suppose that's true," she admitted, a good-natured smile on her face. "Aren't you an odd one, thinking such things at your age?"

"Er, I suppose," Phineas said. "I don't feel so odd next to all this, though." He gestured towards the window, beyond which lay the bustling magical market of Diagon Alley.

"No, I imagine you'll fit right in soon enough," the shopkeeper said. "Muggle-born, were you?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but his father stepped up next to him and interrupted. "We'd best be going. We have what we came for, and we still have a lot to buy."

Phineas reluctantly put the books back on the shelf and followed his father toward the door. As he turned to wave good-bye to the shopkeeper, two tall wizards walked into the shop, trailed by two children about Phineas' age. The wizards hardly took note of Phineas, but they stared intently at his father.

"Well!" exclaimed one of the wizards, smiling like a lion that has just come across a wounded deer. "There's a face I never thought I'd see again. If it isn't Ribelius Lovegood!"

The other wizard laughed uproariously. "Good old Rib the Squib!"

Ribelius' face tightened, and he stood up to his full height. "Excuse me, gentlemen," he said as he tried to shoulder his way past them.

"Why the hurry?" asked the first wizard, a hard glint in his eyes as he drew his wand from his cloak. "We haven't seen each other in so long…"

"Long enough to learn civility, I hope," Ribelius said lightly, but Phineas heard a nervous strain in his voice. And if his father was afraid….

"I've missed you, Rib," said the second wizard, twirling his wand casually between his fingers. "I've missed the fun we used to have in the old days."

"That's enough!" Ribelius said. "Cygnus… Geryon… please just leave us be."

Phineas looked up at his father and the other wizards. There was so much he didn't understand about what was happening, but the little he did understand left him with a tight feeling in the pit of his stomach. He glanced over at the two children, who were smirking at him. At that moment, Phineas knew that this conflict between their parents would determine how the three of them would treat each other over the next several years at school.

And he knew his father was going to lose.

The second wizard, Geryon, brushed his cloak back dramatically and pointed his wand at Ribelius. "Do you really think you can stop us… Squib?"

"It may interest you to know," said the shopkeeper, holding a wand to Geryon's throat, "that there's a particularly nasty Egyptian spell that gives you boils everywhere—on your skin, your scalp, inside your nose and throat—and the more you try to heal the boils, the more they multiply. For weeks, all you can do is wait in constant, itching agony for them to disappear."

Geryon lowered his wand and tucked it back inside his cloak. Cygnus did the same.

The shopkeeper's eyes flashed. "Both of you—out of my shop."

"But we need to buy textbooks!" Geryon objected.

"You should have thought of that before threatening my patrons," said the shopkeeper. And if I hear of any further harassment today in Diagon Alley—and make no mistake, I will hear—I can't speak for the consequences."

Geryon and Cygnus reluctantly exited the shop, their children following behind. Cygnus raised an eyebrow and muttered just loud enough for Ribelius to hear, "He wasn't worth the trouble anyway."

Ribelius readjusted the pile of textbooks so he could carry them comfortably. "Thank you," he said to the shopkeeper. "I am… indebted." The last word held a definite tinge of bitterness.

"Nonsense!" said the shopkeeper. "I learned long ago that if we don't take care of our kind, no one will."

"Our—?" Ribelius looked puzzled, but then his eyes widened in comprehension.

Phineas caught on just a second after his father did. "You're a Squib too?"

"Mandisa Marlovis, magical misfit," the shopkeeper said, bowing theatrically. "I couldn't really have cast the boil spell on them, more's the pity. But I've read enough books to be able to pull over a bluff when I have to."

"Ribelius Lovegood, and this is my son Phineas." Ribelius rested a hand on Phineas' shoulder.

"But Dad, I'm confused," Phineas said. "I thought your name was Stephen."

"It's my middle name, which I go by in the Muggle world," Ribelius said. "Not that it ever helped me fit in better…"

Mandisa shook her head sympathetically. "I moved here from Alexandria just to have a chance at a normal witch's life," she said. "I thought perhaps in a new place, where no one knew who I was, I could pretend. And I have pretended. Perhaps I have some small magic at make-believe. But in the end, we belong in neither world."

"Who can straighten what has been made crooked?" Ribelius said.

"I will," Phineas announced. "I promise I will. I'll fix everything so that there's a place for you, and for you too, Miss Marlovis. It isn't fair right now, but I'll make it fair."

Mandisa smiled. "Perhaps you will. It's kind of you to try, love."

"I'll prove that Squibs are just as important as anyone else!" Phineas said. "I'll prove that Muggle-borns are just as good as any other wizards!"

Ribelius set the books down and knelt so he could look his son in the eye. "Phineas," he said. "You don't need to prove anything. Those who need proof aren't worth the convincing."

"Your father's right," Mandisa said. "Don't worry about us."

"You've been given a great gift," Ribelius said. "One that has passed people like us by. If you use it responsibly, for kindness and justice, that's all anyone can ask."

Phineas nodded solemnly. "I will," he said.

Mandisa withdrew a book from the shelf and handed it to Phineas. "This is a reminder of that promise," she said. "Just remember that everything has the right to exist."

Phineas looked down at a beautiful leather-bound Encyclopedia of Rare Magical Creatures. "But I thought you said I wouldn't understand it," he said.

"You'll never understand everything," Mandisa said. "But keep trying. I suspect you already understand more than you know."

"That's very kind," Ribelius said.

"Thank you very much, Miss Marlovis," Phineas said, smiling as he hugged the book to his chest.

"I always take care of my own," she said, heading back for the counter. "Run along, then."

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Phineas finished reading the book within a week, and began scouring his father's old bookshelves. There was so much to learn.