Disclaimer: Usual disclaimers apply. In the highly unlikely event that I actually owned any of the Harry Potter intellectual property, I wouldn't be posting stories to this website, as I wouldn't be a fan, and thus wouldn't meet the entry criteria, now, would I? Draw your own conclusions from that.
Chapter 3 – Meet the Press, Meet the Parent
February 17, 1996.
Saturday morning at nine o'clock was never terribly busy at the Three Broomsticks, not even on a Hogsmeade weekend. The pub was not known for its breakfasts – discerning diners went down to the Hog's Head, where the fare was just what most Britons, magical or not, expected in the morning. Madame Rosmerta, however, liked experimental breakfasts.
Her most recent experiment, lime and bacon crepes, was not judged by most to be a successful one.
That's why Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood and Hermione Granger found a relatively empty pub that morning, and had no trouble attracting the proprietress' attention. They were quickly ushered into the back room.
The trio had walked to Hogsmeade, having skipped breakfast. They avoided the carriages, both to allow them to go over what Harry was going to say in the interview and what he was not, and to avoid the other students. Despite not taking the carriages, Luna insisted on petting a few of the thestrals on the way ("They get so lonely, you know," she said) to Harry's amusement and Hermione's befuddlement, as the brunette was unable to see the skeletal winged horses.
Entering the back room, Luna rushed forward to hug the sole occupant on the room, a tall man with shoulder-length hair which was nearly, but not quite, platinum blond, with a pleasant but distant look on his face, wearing navy blue robes which Harry would describe as "business-casual" (for the Wizarding world, at least) and wearing a matching Homburg hat with a dark blue band. He was wearing a strange silver pendant, which had a triangle inscribed with a circle, bisected with a vertical line. Despite a far more relaxed expression than he wore in the Hufflepuff '69 class photograph at Hogwarts, Harry knew the man could only be Xenophilius Lovegood, publisher and editor of The Quibbler and father of his girlfriend.
"Hello, Moonbeam," said Mr. Lovegood lovingly as he kissed the top of his daughter's head.
"Hi, Daddy," she answered, holding him close for a few moments longer.
Harry found himself envious – though Luna had a tough life at school, and had lost her mother at a tragically early age, he could see the love for one another that father and daughter radiated.
Luna looked up at her father. "You wore your lucky hat, I see. I thought you were trying to remain inconspicuous."
Mr. Lovegood smiled down at his daughter. "I've had this hat since my first job at the Daily Mirror. I've never conducted an interview without it. But I did disillusion my press badge." He pointed his wand at his hat, murmured "Finite," and Harry watched as a rather garish lemon-yellow press badge, which switched between reading "The Quibbler" and "Press" in neon purple letters, appeared in Mr. Lovegood's hat badge. Mr. Lovegood turned to Harry and Hermione, and said, "I used a less conspicuous badge at the Mirror, obviously." He looked down at his daughter. "Are you going to introduce me to your friends?"
Luna released her father. "This is Hermione Granger, a friend of mine in Gryffindor, a year ahead of me. This whole thing was her idea."
Mr. Lovegood shook Hermione's hand. "Xenophilius Lovegood, Miss Granger. Did you enjoy the article I sent you?" he said, referring to the issue of The Quibbler he had sent her containing Luna's mother's last published article.
"Yes, Mr. Lovegood, I did. It was very interesting – I liked your wife's theory that using ligatures in Glagolitic runes amplified the magical properties of the two individual runes that were combined. I hadn't considered that," she said sincerely.
Mr. Lovegood smiled widely. "My Astrid had a unique way of looking at the world," he said, his eyes looking off into the distance at nothing in particular. "Her first article on runes was published in The Quibbler when she was still at Hogwarts. I like to think that her father owning the magazine had only a little to do with that." He smiled at the memory.
"I'd like to read any articles of hers you could send me, sir," the brunette said, earning her looks of appreciation from both Luna and her father.
"I'll send you some as soon as I get back home," Mr. Lovegood said. "If you ever have any theories of your own, feel free to send them along and I'll look at printing them. The Quibbler doesn't pay its contributors, usually, but it's widely read among the open-minded and those interested in new ideas."
"I may take you up on that," she said.
Luna smiled at her father. "And this," she said, taking Harry's hand, "is my boyfriend, Harry Potter."
"Pleased to meet you, sir," Harry said, stepping forward with his hand extended. "Luna's told me a lot about you."
Mr. Lovegood looked at Harry, appraising him, and shook Harry's hand. "And Luna's told me a lot about you, too, Mr. Potter. She corrected some of the more fanciful tales one hears about you. And augmented some others, I should say."
Harry looked somewhat sheepish. Luna gave him a shy smile.
"Well, Mr. Potter and I should get down to business. The interview should be about an hour and a half, so you girls should come back in about two hours. So I can see if I approve of the new boy in your life," Mr. Lovegood said with a smile to his daughter, his tone far cheerier than the words he said.
Luna grabbed Harry's hand, an act which drew a raised eyebrow from her father. "Okay. Bye Daddy, bye Harry! Let's go, Hermione."
Hermione said goodbye to the two men as Luna led her out of the back room.
Mr. Lovegood motioned for Harry to sit down. "Would you like me to order some breakfast, Mr. Potter? The lime and bacon crepes sound just strange enough to be worth trying, although I'm sure if you don't like them, Madame Rosmerta can get you some porridge."
"The crepes sound fine, sir. And you can call me Harry."
"Maybe after the interview. I'd like to keep things professional until we're finished."
Mr. Lovegood left the room momentarily to order their breakfast. When he returned, he sat down opposite Harry. "I also ordered us some tea. Irish Breakfast – I hope you don't mind. I would have ordered us a Gurdyroot Infusion – it opens the mind, you see, makes the thoughts more imaginative, more interesting – but Madame Rosmerta says people don't like the taste, so she doesn't stock it. Silly woman, but it's her pub, I suppose," he said, shaking his head.
He proceeded to unravel a roll of parchment, and set a quill on it that stood upright on its own.
"Is that a Quick-Quotes Quill?" Harry asked. "I saw Rita Skeeter use one last year."
Mr. Lovegood shook his head. "No, it's just a simple Ever-Inkful Dictaquill. I tried using one of those Quick-Quotes Quills when they were first for sale, as they're supposed to compose stories on their own, but they just make things up. I didn't want to sacrifice The Quibbler's reputation like the Prophet is willing to sacrifice theirs."
Harry found himself wondering if, like his daughter often seemed, Mr. Lovegood was unaware of the reputation his magazine had out in the Wizarding world. He kept quiet.
"By the way, that Rita Skeeter is an odious woman. Did you know she was in my year at Hogwarts? Slytherin - no surprise there, I'll bet! Thick as thieves with Bellatrix Black until fifth year. You know, I actually found Bellatrix the less obnoxious of the pair of them."
Harry couldn't help but laugh at that.
"When she found out I wanted to be a journalist, she pretended to befriend me to find all about me. So she could badmouth me to the papers, you see, so they'd hire her instead of me. She was livid when I was offered a position with both the Owl-Scryer and the Daily Prophet, and only the Diagon Alley Diviner would hire her. She was even more upset when I turned them both down and went into the Muggle world to work for the Daily Mirror."
"I've never heard of the Owl-Scryer and the Diviner," Harry said.
"They both went under in the '70s. The offices of the Owl-Scryer were destroyed in a mysterious fire not long after I quit in late 1973. The Aurors officially ruled out arson, but most former employees, like me, thought Death Eaters were behind it – the Owl-Scryer took a firm anti-You-Know-Who line. The Diviner was bought out by the Prophet shortly thereafter, giving them a monopoly on the daily news. I've thought about taking The Quibbler daily to compete, but I prefer running a monthly – far less stress, you see. I still have all my hair, and if I was running a daily, I'd be so distracted the Nargles would steal it all away!" Mr. Lovegood laughed at his own joke.
"You know, Skeeter actually had the temerity to ask me for a job after the Prophet sacked her last year? Said she could make The Quibbler 'successful'. We do quite well without printing her kind of swill, let me tell you. And how could I look my Luna in the eyes if I hired a woman like that?"
Madame Rosmerta brought in their crepes and tea. Harry found his breakfast barely edible, although the tea was excellent. Mr. Lovegood, on the other hand, devoured the crepes. "Extraordinary. Needs some gillyweed extract, though." Wiping his mouth with a napkin, he looked at Harry and said, "Now let's get down to business, Mr. Potter."
Out in the main room of the Three Broomsticks, Hermione and Luna were also having the crepes. Their reaction to the bacon-and-lime concoctions mirrored Harry and Mr. Lovegood's, respectively. Hermione found herself ordering an extra glass of pumpkin juice to wash the unusual breakfast pastries down her protesting throat.
"What did you think of Daddy?" Luna asked.
"He's nice. You can really tell you two are related," Hermione answered judiciously.
Luna smiled. "Thank you. Daddy's wonderful. I was devastated when Mummy passed, but Daddy was so strong, and so caring through it all. I don't know what I would have done without him."
"I wish Harry had someone like that after his parents were killed." Hermione lowered her voice to a whisper. "Has he told you much about his home life?"
Luna nodded glumly. "A little bit. Mostly that his 'family' hates magic, hates him, and never lets him forget that."
"That's basically what he's told us. Ron and the twins had to break him out his room before second year because they locked him in his room for the summer. Can you imagine that? Being locked it a room for a whole summer?"
"I know. That must be horrible. The worst I ever had was being locked overnight in a broom closet on the third floor by some of the other Ravenclaws when I was a first-year. Before they taught us the Unlocking Charm, of course. That was bad enough – I can't imagine being locked in a room for a month!"
Harry had told Hermione about how Luna did this, describing traumatic events in the most casual way possible, and Hermione found it as disconcerting as he had at the beginning. She knew people called the eccentric blonde names, made fun of her, and stole her possessions, but hearing about her confinement alone in a presumably dark broom closet overnight surprised the older girl.
"That's horrible, Luna!"
"I know. Just Harry and his owl, being fed through a cat door – he told me all about it. I can't believe he still has to keep going back there."
Hermione frowned at Luna missing her attempt at sympathy, but moved past it. "The Weasleys keep offering to let him spend the whole summer with them. My parents have offered as well. But Professor Dumbledore keeps insisting he go back to Surrey," she said with a frown.
"I'm thinking of asking Harry to come with Daddy and me on our expedition this summer," Luna said quietly. "I'm hoping we can go searching for Snorkacks in Sweden, but if not we may be looking for Sodorian Lolligogs in the Outer Hebrides. Don't tell Harry that yet, please – I'd like it to be a surprise if we can arrange it. Maybe the Headmaster will agree to that, because it's educational."
Hermione smiled a little at the thought of Dumbledore finding one of Luna's hunts for non-existent creatures 'educational', then came to the realization that the Headmaster was strange enough that he actually might.
"Anyway," Luna continued, "At least Harry knows he has people who really care for him now. You, all the Weasleys, his godfather, Professor Lupin, Professor Dumbledore... me. He knows he's not alone anymore."
"I hope so. I hope the interview goes well," Hermione said.
"Oh, I think it will. Harry's prepared, and Daddy's taking this seriously – you saw he was wearing his interview hat. I just hope Daddy approves of him dating me. It would be rather awkward if he didn't."
"I'm sure he'll like Harry," Hermione tried to reassure to the younger girl. "Not that I know what it's like introducing a boyfriend my parents," she said, frowning.
"Harry said you'll be meeting Viktor when you're in Spain at Easter. You can find out then," Luna said with a smile.
"Viktor's not really a boyfriend, Luna. Just a boy who's a friend. Who I went to a dance with." She saw the playful look on the blonde's face, and said, exasperated, "You know what I mean. It's not really a parallel situation at all. Don't worry, Harry's a great guy, and your father will see that immediately."
Tiring of the subject, Hermione said enthusiastically, "Well, I'm tired of sitting here. Let's go to the bookstore!" Luna got up and followed her.
Harry told Mr. Lovegood what happened since the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament – the return of Voldemort, the murder of Cedric Diggory, the involvement of Peter Pettigrew, and Barty Crouch Jr. being condemned to the Dementor's Kiss before he could be properly interrogated. He told of his fight with Dementors in Little Whinging, and his subsequent trial and exoneration, the lies of the Daily Prophet,the increasing disappearances and murders, and most recently the breakout from Azkaban, which Harry said was due to Voldemort and the Death Eaters, rather than the Ministry's scapegoat, Sirius Black. Mr. Lovegood's questions so far had been relatively generic, or to draw out further detail from Harry as to what happened. He seemed particularly focused on the farce of a trial to which the Wizengamot had subjected Harry.
"Why do you think the Ministry held a full trial for your actions in the park?" Mr. Lovegood asked.
"Fear, basically," Harry answered. "I think most of the actions of the Ministry since the return of Voldemort have been a result of fear. I understand why they would be concerned about my use of the Patronus Charm in front of my cousin and in a Muggle neighbourhood – the Statute of Secrecy and all that. But there's provisions where magic can be used in cases of extreme need, and I would argue that saving my cousin from having his soul devoured by a creature he couldn't even see counts as extreme need."
Harry noted that unlike most wizards, Mr. Lovegood didn't react at all when he said 'Voldemort', even if the older man used the usual circumlocutions for the Dark Lord when he spoke.
"But the Ministry didn't believe you. Why?"
Harry thought for a moment. "I don't know if they didn't believe me, or if they didn't want to believe me. If Dementors were loose in the home counties, that means that the Ministry doesn't have full control over them, which is a scary thought for most people. I'm one of those people – I've encountered them multiple times now, so I should know. People who aren't in Azkaban aren't supposed to ever encounter a Dementor. I don't think the Ministry wanted to consider the possibility that they may not have full control over them."
"But why a full trial?"
"I honestly think the Ministry is trying to shut me up. They don't want Voldemort to be back, and certain elements in the Ministry think that if they ignore the problem, it will go away, like a..."
"Like a Russet Marshyoller," Mr. Lovegood said sagely.
"What's that?"
"They close their eyes when predators are near, thinking if they can't see the predator, the predator can't see them. They're very rare, for obvious reasons. Most people don't even think they exist! Can you believe that?"
Harry laughed. "I hadn't heard of them – I'll have to ask Luna more about the Marshyollers. I was thinking of ostriches sticking their heads in the sand."
"Oh, that's just a myth," Mr. Lovegood said, waving his hand dismissively.
Harry smiled. "Anyway, I think that they think that if I stop talking about it, and Professor Dumbledore stops talking about it, that the problem will go away and that maybe Voldemort really won't be back after all. Like if no one believes he's back, he's not really back. It's completely mental, when you think about it."
Mr. Lovegood tapped the Ever-Inkful Dictaquill with his wand, and it ceased writing.
"It's actually not, Mr. Potter. You're aware of the role of intent in magic?"
The boy nodded. "Our professors tell us that intent, more than anything else, is the motive force of the magic we produce."
Mr. Lovegood nodded. "Exactly. There's a theory – the Intent Theory of Reality – that states that all of our world is the way it is because we intend it to be so. That our belief in something and intent to make it real actually does make it real."
"So we have magic because we believe we do?"
Mr. Lovegood grinned. "That's it exactly, Harry. And proponents of this theory believe that the reason Muggles do not is because they don't believe in it."
Harry thought about this. "So Muggle-borns like Hermione have magic because unlike most other Muggles, they believe in it?"
"According to the theory. I don't believe it myself, but I would be very surprised if the Department of Mysteries hadn't investigated it."
"Off the record?" Harry waited for Mr. Lovegood to nod. "I think that's far too rational an explanation for the actions of the Ministry this past year. I prefer the Marshyoller theory."
Mr. Lovegood erupted into a hearty laugh.
Harry continued. "And I don't think Voldemort believes it either, otherwise he would be out there proving he's back. I don't think he'd run the risk of his own non-existence if he thought that theory was real. Plus, if the Intent Theory of Reality were true, by doing things like publicizing the Rotfang Conspiracy, you'd actually be bringing them into existence. And I don't think you'd run that risk."
Mr. Lovegood smiled again. "You have a very agile mind, Mr. Potter. I'm quite impressed."
Harry was inwardly quite pleased at this compliment from his girlfriend's father.
Mr. Lovegood tapped his quill with his wand again, and it was ready to resume writing. "So, a few more questions. You've accused many prominent members of society of being present in the graveyard when You-Know-Who returned. Some of those people successfully exonerated themselves in the eyes of the law after the war ended in 1981. What do you say to those who would accuse you of dragging the names of respectable people through the mud?"
Harry thought for a moment. Hermione and Luna had discussed this with him, and he told Mr. Lovegood what the three of them came up with. "The people I've listed are Death Eaters. They know it. I know it. However, I will apologize in person and in public to anyone I have listed who publicly repudiates Voldemort in the pages of The Quibbler, the Daily Prophet, or on the Wizarding Wireless Network. If they say they're not with Voldemort, let them say so out loud, for everyone, including him, to hear. But given how the ones I have encountered previously act, and what they raise their children to believe, I stand by my accusations, and I would be shocked if any of them did repudiate their master."
"What is your opinion of Minister Fudge?"
Harry sighed. He wanted to say the man was an idiot who employed a sadist to torture children, but Hermione advised him not to be more inflammatory than he truly needed to be. So Harry diplomatically said, "In many ways I feel for him. I know he is well thought of by many people, and I imagine he's quite unhappy with Voldemort reappearing on his watch, when the problem was supposed to be dealt with a decade ago."
"Dealt with by you."
Harry shook his head. "I'd rather not talk about that, Mr. Lovegood. I was one year old. Everything they say about that night is exaggerated."
"I'll strike that from the interview, Mr. Potter. Go on."
"So I understand his hesitation. But ultimately, he is the Minister, and I think his fear of public panic is making him act in ways that cause far more harm to the public. The time to prepare against Voldemort is now, when he's still weak, when he's skulking about like a rat, afraid to show himself. It's not the time to pretend everything is fine, and lie to the public about me, about Albus Dumbledore, about Voldemort, about the breakout in Azkaban. Cornelius Fudge doesn't want to be the Minister on whose watch Voldemort returned. But if he keeps acting like this, he's going to be seen as the Minister who was asleep at his desk while Magical Britain burned."
Mr. Lovegood nodded. "What's your opinion on some of the other claims sources have made about Fudge? His heliopath army, his breeding of Umgubular Slashkilters, and his torture of goblins?"
Harry knew this question would come. "I really can't say, Mr. Lovegood. I have no informed opinion of the subject. I will say that I've seen enough of his actions and inaction on my own to know that unless he changes course, worse things than the breakout from Azkaban are likely to happen."
"One last question. What do you say to readers of the Prophet who've been reading about you in that paper?"
"Open your eyes. Think for yourself. For fourteen years, they made me out to be some kind of spectacular hero, when really I'm just a normal kid who had something horrible happen to his family. They've spent the last year making me out to be some unstable liar, when again I'm just a normal kid who had some horrible things happen to him. As far as I can tell, the last thing the Prophet printed about me that was accurate was my birth notice back in 1980."
That got another hearty laugh from Mr. Lovegood.
The unimaginatively-named "Hogsmeade Books" was Hermione's favourite store in the wizarding village by far. She spent many hours on Hogsmeade weekends poring through the stacks, looking for some new and interesting book to read in what little spare time she had. Harry and Ron would come into the store with her, more out of a sense of loyalty than anything else, but after a few minutes they would often wander elsewhere in the village, leaving her on her own to reverently go through the shelves.
That's why it was a new experience to spend a long period of time in a bookstore with a friend.
Hermione pondered that for a moment. Luna had become a friend of sorts over the last month. The strange blond girl often made her shake her head in bafflement at the bizarre ways she thought, and Hermione found large doses of Luna often made her head spin, but she had begun to enjoy spending time with her just the same. It helped that the two young women shared a thirst for knowledge, although their definitions of what actually counted as knowledge sometimes differed radically.
Hermione was honest enough to admit to herself that if it weren't for their connection through Harry, they likely wouldn't speak at all, and she would view Luna as merely Ginny's spacey friend. She did wonder what her reaction would be to Luna had she been sorted into Ravenclaw herself, like the Sorting Hat had suggested on her first day. Would she have befriended the younger girl? Ignored her? Or joined in the bullying like the majority of Luna's housemates? I likely would have ignored her, Hermione thought honestly.
Hermione was looking through the small "Muggle" section of the bookstore, which she regularly did to get a sense of what the wizarding populace thought of their non-magical counterparts. The simple answer was "not much," given the scarcity of recent books about Muggles. What the Great War of the Muggles Means to You, by a Roland Knockbuckle was one of the more recent books on the shelf, which billed itself as a "Wizard's Guide to the Current War." Knockbuckle, while probably not a pureblood supremacist, was certainly an alarmist, and thought that the mutual exchanges of poison gas on the Western Front and the bombing of London by Zeppelins were likely a prelude to a Muggle assault on the wizards of Europe. He said the tactics used in the war showed that Muggles were vicious, inventive, and far more capable and ruthless than wizards normally gave them credit for. Hermione smiled at that compliment, backhanded though it was. She wondered what Knockbuckle would have made of that war's sequel two decades later, and noted that he called for enterprising wizards to develop spells to combat the ever-increasing weapons of the Muggles.
More typical were some other titles on the shelf. The Amusing Sports of the Muggles by Tybalt Chesterfield was one of them, portraying Muggles as simple and quaint, and focusing on things like tug-of-war, the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona, the Eton Wall Game, and Cheese Rolling in Gloucestershire. Another was Twenty Years as a Muggle by Jürgen Eckert, written in 1796. There was also Muggles: The Gathering Hordes, a pureblood supremacist screed by one Hypolite Malfoy, undoubtedly an ancestor of Draco, who predicted that unless radical and violent measures were taken, "the fecund Muggles will destroy us all by sheer numbers by 1830 at the latest." By the dust on the cover, Hermione was sure the book had been on the shelves at least that long.
One book truly caught her eye, though – The Magic of the Muggles, a guide to recent advances in all fields of science. As the book was published in 1972, that wasn't exactly recent as far as Hermione was concerned, but for a wizarding publication on Muggles it was downright current. The author, a Vespasian Artaxerxes Smith, seemed particularly impressed by the American and Soviet space programs, and organ transplants. He suggested that enterprising young wizards attend Muggle universities after their graduation from school, so that they could learn the secrets of the Muggles, and called for a modification of the International Statute of Secrecy to allow greater use of Muggle devices, citing the precedent of Wizarding Wireless. Hermione noted that his biography said he was Slytherin, class of 1942, which made him a near-contemporary of Voldemort. She found herself wondering if V.A. Smith survived the last war, given his views.
Her thought were interrupted by a dreamy voice, saying, "Find anything interesting?"
Hermione held up the Smith book for Luna to see. "This may be interesting – the Muggle world from a magical perspective."
"Oh, I quite agree. Daddy sometimes talks about what life was like for him when he was a reporter for the Muggle papers. It sounds fascinating. Probably not to you, though – you're used to things like telephones, and microships and the like."
"Microships?"
"Harry was telling me about them at Valentine's Day. They're used to make singing cards."
Hermione looked at Luna questioning for a bit, and them realization dawned upon her. "Oh, you mean microchips!"
"Yes, that's it. Daddy never mentioned them. I guess no one ever gave him a Valentine's Day card when he was living with the Muggles."
Hermione shook her head. "There weren't very common back then. They're used for a lot more than greeting cards, Luna. They're the backbone of the Western world's economy these days. Microchips and computers and electronics."
"Do you own any of those?" the Ravenclaw asked.
"Yes, just like many Muggles. My parents each have a computer at the office, and one at home which I get to use during the summer. It's useful for writing, and organizing information, and communicating. I think it would be enormously helpful here at school, actually, if I could get it to work in the castle. Of course, the boys would likely just play video games on it."
Luna said, "I never really get out into the Muggle world. I go to the village, occasionally, but there's nothing like that there."
"Maybe Harry can show you at some point."
Luna brightened. "I do hope so – that would be ever so much fun! Anyway, if you do buy that book, I wouldn't mind taking a look at it. To see what the Muggles have come up with, you know. They may even have a way of detecting Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, and not even know it! Harry says they can take pictures from outer space, and have goggles that can see in the dark, and things like that," Luna said in her sing-song voice.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" Hermione asked.
Luna shook her head sadly. "No, unfortunately. There was a wonderful book last time I was here that was written by a relative of mine, all about the magical creatures you keep telling me don't exist. I was hoping to show it to you, but the clerk said someone bought it already, and she doesn't know if they'll get another copy anytime soon. I doubt they will – it's quite an extraordinary book."
Hermione tried to look sympathetic towards her friend. Harry told her all about the book – Rare Arcane Faunae of Western Europe, by Livia Lovegood, and how he bought it for his girlfriend as a surprise birthday gift. On the one hand, Hermione really didn't think Harry should encourage Luna's strange beliefs as much as he did. On the other hand, it was definitely the kind of book Luna would love, if her sad reaction to the book being gone was any indication.
"Maybe Hogwarts has a copy," Hermione said, trying to encourage Luna.
"I checked. Madam Pince says the library did have a copy, but it's in the Restricted Section. I tried to get access, but Professor Umbridge is making every request go through her, and she said no."
That was unsurprising, Hermione thought. The Restricted Section contained books about all kinds of rare and powerful magics – in addition to books about Nargles, apparently. Professor Umbridge was unlikely to let any student access any book that might possibly contain powerful magic if she could avoid it in any way, as she was convinced the students would try and organize against the Ministry. And her. Thinking about the D.A., Hermione knew that the High Inquisitor's fears were becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy.
"Hopefully you'll find another copy," she said sympathetically.
"Oh, I doubt it," Luna said sadly. "I can see why that book would be snatched up easily. It's hard to come by reliable information about Nargles and Ice Brownies, you know."
Hermione thought it was probably also hard to come by reliable information about the Easter Bunny for exactly the same reasons. She chose not to articulate this to Luna, going to the clerk and buying The Magic of the Muggles instead.
As the exited the store, they passed Padma Patil. Luna gave a little wave to her housemate, who rolled her eyes and gave Luna a curt nod. After Padma was behind them, Hermione heard Luna utter a very faint sigh.
A few minutes later, as the two were wandering the village waiting for the town clock to strike eleven, Luna asked, "Do you ever think of going back to the Muggle world once you're done Hogwarts?"
It was Hermione's turn to sigh. "Sometimes. I don't know if I'd go back permanently, but I've been keeping up with my Muggle studies — "
"I didn't know you were in Professor Burbage's class," Luna interrupted.
"I meant Muggle school subjects, like chemistry, mathematics, English literature, that kind of thing. I haven't taken Muggle Studies with Professor Burbage since third year. As I was trying to say, I've been keeping up with my Muggle subjects in my spare time and over the summer in case I want to go to university."
"That's a lot of extra studying," Luna said. "I'm surprised you get any sleep at all! I'll bet the Somnivorous Sprites can't get enough of you."
Hermione knew she shouldn't get sucked in, but couldn't help herself. "Sleep-eating sprites?"
Luna nodded vigorously. "Yes, that's it. If someone isn't getting enough sleep, the Somnivorous Sprites will hover around them, eating all the extra sleep they're not taking. Unfortunately, they're very predatory, and will often keep bothering a person even once they try to start getting more sleep. They're real pests – that's why the Draught of Dreamless Sleep is such a popular potion, you know. It puts you out like a candle, so the Somnivorous Sprites won't get you."
"Here I thought it was just to help you sleep through nightmares," Hermione said wryly.
"Oh, it has multiple uses."
"I'll remember that," the bushy-haired brunette said indulgently. "My mother thinks I should go to Cambridge, her alma mater, to keep my options open for the future, and not just limit myself to the magical world. Up until this year, I wasn't really considering it – I was just doing the Muggle classes because I found them fascinating. Now with Professor Umbridge and the return of You-Know-Who, Cambridge doesn't seem like such a bad idea. I wouldn't be the only one – Dean Thomas is thinking of going to art school, and I heard Justin Finch-Fletchley talk about going to either Oxford, Cambridge or the London School of Economics."
"That might be nice if you had a Hogwarts classmate at university," Luna said happily.
"Oh, I don't think I'd stay in the Muggle world even if I did go, but university is very tempting, especially since there's no real schooling after Hogwarts."
"There's apprenticeships," Luna said helpfully.
"Great. Just what I want – indentured servitude. No thank you."
Luna shrugged. "It's not that bad. You just need to apprentice to a good Master or Mistress. I imagine apprenticing to Professor Flitwick would be a tremendous experience, for example. You just need to avoid the bad ones."
"Can you imagine apprenticing to Professor Snape?" Hermione laughed.
"It wouldn't be so bad. At least there would be lots of Draught of Dreamless Sleep available. You'd likely need it after working with him."
Harry watched Mr. Lovegood tap his Ever-Inkful Dictaquill, roll up the parchment upon which it had taken notes, and pack them up.
"Excellent interview, Mr. Potter. Very informative. I dare say you'll rattle many cages with this," said Mr. Lovegood approvingly.
"When will you publish it, sir?" Harry asked.
"I had planned on publishing this in the April issue of The Quibbler, but I may put it out as a special edition before that."
"Will I get to see a copy before it goes to press?"
"I wouldn't give you editorial control in any event, you understand," said Mr. Lovegood. When Harry nodded, he continues, "Normally I'd send you an advance copy, but with what Luna tells me about how the owl post is being intercepted at Hogwarts these days, I don't think that's a good idea. We don't want to tip our hand any more than necessary."
"I understand, sir."
"Good. You told your story well, and gave interesting answers to my questions, so I think it will likely go to press with minimal editing. I'll change your mentions of the Dark Lord's name to 'You-Know-Who', of course – most readers are far more squeamish than you, and we don't want to offend potential supporters any more than we have to.
"Now, is your offer to call you 'Harry' still on the table?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good." Mr. Lovegood then leaned forward towards him, smiling at him. "The traditional question at this point is, 'What exactly are your intentions towards my fourteen-year-old daughter', Harry?"
Harry also expected this question. At least it didn't come at the point of a wand or a shotgun. Nevertheless, he swallowed nervously. "My intentions at this point are to date her and spend time with her, sir. I really like Luna, and want to be part of her life."
"And in the future?"
"Sir, I'm only fifteen, and Luna isn't fifteen for another few days. We've only been together for a short while. I'm not really thinking too far in the future at this point. I just want to enjoy life, and be there for Luna and with her," he said honestly.
"Fair enough. Just remember, you're still young. Enjoy being teenagers, as much as you can with things the way they are," Mr. Lovegood said with a look at the bag containing the text of the interview. "But there's no need to rush into anything. I remember what it was like to be a teenager, and what teenagers like to do. Don't rush into adulthood faster than you have to." Mr. Lovegood's eyes narrowed. "And speaking as a father, do not rush my sweet innocent daughter into adulthood. I may not have had the adventures you've had, Harry, but I would do anything for my daughter. Absolutely anything."
Harry nodded, nervously. "I understand completely, sir."
Mr. Lovegood broke into a pleasant smile again. "Good. I'm glad you understand. You seem like a fine young man, but I had to get that off my chest. A man doesn't get too many opportunities to play the 'overprotective father' card, you know. Luna speaks extremely highly of you, by the way."
"I'm glad to hear that, sir."
"When she started mentioning you in her letters, I was somewhat surprised. The only classmate of hers she had ever talked about before that was Ginny Weasley. I'm afraid Luna doesn't have many friends, Harry. I sometimes wonder if I should have sent her to Beauxbatons like Astrid wanted," Mr. Lovegood said, his face clouded.
"I'm rather glad you didn't," Harry said quietly.
The older man smiled at him. "As I was saying, when your name started showing up, it was surprising. Your story is universally known, Harry, and when my daughter started routinely mentioning the boy of legend, and how he took the time to talk to her, and treat her kindly, well, I wondered if Luna was simply star-struck."
Harry laughed. "Trust me, she was the opposite of star-struck, sir. One of the great things about Luna is she doesn't treat me with all that Boy-Who-Lived stuff. Not even when she first met me on the train in September."
"Luna's usually far too sensible a girl for that," Mr. Lovegood said, "but it happens. Once I spoke with her at Christmas, though, I could see that wasn't the case, and it sounded like you truly appreciated my Luna and all of her unique qualities."
"I truly do, sir. She's like no one I'm ever met," Harry said.
"She's a lot like her mother. Luna gets her love of magical creatures from me, but her tenacity, her imaginative approach to problems, her sense of wonder – that all came from my Astrid. Have you ever seen a picture of her?"
"Just her class photo," Harry said. "Luna said the only picture she brought of her mum disappeared."
Mr. Lovegood's face clouded. "Yes. She refused to bring any more. Would you like to see one?" He reached into his robes, and pulled out a worn magical photograph which had obviously been handled many times.
Harry took the picture from him. It showed Mr. Lovegood with a pretty woman, in her early thirties with golden-blond hair, who was obviously Luna's mother. An eight-year-old Luna, looking pretty much as she did now, except her hair was done in a long braid, stood between her parents, who had their arms around each others' backs. Mr. Lovegood was whispering something in Mrs. Lovegood's ear, who blushed prettily and swatted his arm. Luna looked contented – like she didn't have a care in the world. She likely didn't at that point, he thought. The happy family in the photo was posing in front of a beautiful white sunlit castle, and in the background Harry could see teenagers walking by in Beauxbatons uniforms. The picture was obviously taken during the family's trip to scout out the French school so Luna could attend.
"That's a lovely picture," Harry said returning the photograph.
"I have a larger print framed in our drawing room, but I like to keep a copy on me," Mr. Lovegood said, obviously trying to hold in his emotions. "Astrid was my universe. She's the reason I stayed in the magical world, rather than go back to the Muggle papers – I had an opportunity to be a correspondent for the Guardian, and go to South America, but I couldn't leave Astrid." He went quiet for a few moments, looking at the photo and reminiscing.
"As I was saying," he said, continuing his previous thought, "I was glad to find Luna had another friend who appreciated her, unlike most of the closed-minded children at that school. Finding out that friend was a young man with whom she was quite taken, well, let's just say my keen reporter's instinct was not shocked to hear you became her boyfriend.
"So I can see you obviously care for my daughter. What else should I know about Harry Potter, the young man?"
"Well, most of it you know already. My parents were a few years behind your wife at Hogwarts, and were killed by Voldemort. I live with my Aunt and Uncle, who hate magic and resent my presence. My best friends are Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, and they've been beside me through thick and thin these last five years. My favourite class used to be Defence Against the Dark Arts, and is now probably Charms and Care of Magical Creatures. I used to be a seeker for Gryffindor until I was unfairly banned from it. I want to be an Auror when I'm done school."
"Even with the Rotfang Conspiracy?" Mr. Lovegood asked, concerned.
"I don't think I believe in the Rotfangs, sir, not until I see more information. But even so, I think that being aware of them makes me less likely to fall for them, should they exist."
Mr. Lovegood nodded. "Fair enough."
"Anyway, my 'fame' is probably exaggerated. I've been lucky more than anything, and I wouldn't be anywhere without the support of my friends."
"Can I be frank with you, Harry?"
"Yes sir," he said, concerned.
"You strike me as a kind, thoughtful, brave young man. As I said, I can see you care for Luna, she says you treat her wonderfully, and I see you're wearing one of her anti-Nargle charms, which shows me you're proud to be seen with her. All those are wonderful qualities."
Here it comes, Harry thought.
"What worries me as a father is all the danger you attract. You seem to be singularly unlucky in having Dark Lords, Dementors, basilisks, and bureaucrats come after you. And while I know you have done your best to protect yourself and those around you, my worry is that Luna being with you will automatically make her more of a target. My first instinct is to tell her to get as far away from you as she can."
It felt to Harry like the bottom was falling out of his world. Luna adored her father. If he advised her to stay away from him, Luna very well might.
"However," Mr. Lovegood went on, "I've seen how happy she is. At Christmas she spoke about school with a joy I hadn't seen in any of her other years, and that's due largely to you. She's clearly quite smitten by you, and from what I've seen, you're a fine young man worthy of my daughter's company. I also know from experience that Luna will do what she thinks is right even if I advise her otherwise. Let me tell you sometime about the time she tried to nurse a wounded griffon back to health when she was eight!
"What I'm trying to say, is that even if I was inclined to warn her away from you, which I am not, I don't think it would do any good anyway. She clearly views your fight as her fight. What I ask of you, Harry, is to protect her. Make sure nothing happens to her. She's all I have left."
"I will, sir," Harry said solemnly.
"Excellent. I'll spare you the usual threats of 'if you hurt her' and whatnot, as I suspect you'd treat yourself worse than I ever could. There's one other thing I did want to talk to you about, though. Did you read The Tale of the Three Brothers?"
"I did. It was a good story, but I'm curious why you wanted to talk to me about it."
"Luna said you'd never heard of the Elder Wand before," Mr. Lovegood said.
"That's right. Luna mentioned it in connection with a story you're doing on the Lizard People."
Mr. Lovegood smiled. "That's right. That issue's being delivered this week – you should pick up a copy. The story's very good. The reason I brought that up is that the Elder Wand is one of the artifacts mentioned in the story. They're no mere fairy tale, Harry – they're real. They're called the Deathly Hallows, after their maker. This symbol," he pointed to his pendant, "is the symbol of the Deathly Hallows. The triangle represents the Cloak of Invisibility, the circle the Resurrection Stone, and the line the Elder Wand. Those of us who seek knowledge of them wear it so that we can identify one another on the quest."
"So you're looking for them?" Harry asked.
"Not to possess them, Harry. I have no use for an unbeatable wand. While an infallible Cloak of Invisibility would be useful in ferreting out stories, I'm an editor now, rather than a reporter. I suppose it might be useful when we try and find rare creatures, but a regular invisibility cloak would work just as well, I should think. The only real difference is the true Cloak of Invisibility has lasted for centuries, while regular ones last less than twenty years. And while I would dearly love to see Astrid again, I'm mindful of what happened to the second brother. I know I'll see her again in the fullness of time."
"Sir?"
"When I pass myself, Harry. We'll all be reunited with our loved ones. I know I'll see her again, and she'll be waiting for me when I go. But I don't want to leave Luna before I have to."
Mr. Lovegood continued, "No, for me it's more of a treasure hunt, than anything, where the fun is in the hunt. That why I wear this. So other believers in the Hallows will know I'm one of them, and we can talk about what we've found. They do say that he who possesses all three Hallows will become the Master of Death, but I have no idea what that means. Neither does anyone else, really – it's never happened, so far as we know."
"Is that why you wanted me to know? To let you know if I find anything?"
Mr. Lovegood smiled. "Exactly. Let me know if you come across anything. You're the type of young man around whom things happen, and you probably have a better chance of running into some information on them than I do. It won't be easy – there hasn't been a sighting of any of the Hallows in over a century. It's well known that Grindelwald was looking for them – he used their symbol as his own. It's made doing research on the Continent quite difficult, let me tell you! We don't think Grindelwald discovered any of them, though his libraries might have information on them, if they were ever found."
Harry found he had a lot to think about. Especially about the Cloak of Invisibility. He would have to talk to Hermione and Luna about this. "Are any of the other stories in The Tales of Beedle the Bard true?" he asked.
"That's quite the question, Harry. What is truth? If you're asking if they're full historical records, then no, probably not. They're more myths and legends. But myths and legends can be true, too, depending on how you look at them. Think of the myths you learned as a Muggle-raised child. Now look at your wand. Myth and truth are not mutually exclusive. That's what The Quibbler is all about, after all."
Not long afterwards, Hermione and Luna joined Harry and Mr. Lovegood in the back room. Luna went for another long hug from her father, asking, "How did it go?"
"It was an excellent interview, Moonbeam. I think we may print a special edition in a few weeks devoted to it." He glanced at Harry. "I had a nice long chat with Harry afterwards, as well."
Harry saw Luna wait with anticipation, and watched as Luna and her father fought not the be the first one to break the silence. Apparently her father was as susceptible as everyone else to Luna's unblinking stare, though, and eventually the man broke. "You're no fun. I think he's a fine young man. I approve."
Luna hugged her father tighter. Harry heard her whisper "Thank you" to him.
"Well, I should get back home, I think. Can you two give me a few minutes with my daughter to say goodbye?" Mr. Lovegood asked Harry and Hermione.
"Before we do, Mr. Lovegood, did you really work for the Mirror and the Express?" Hermione asked.
"Yes, I worked the crime beat for the Mirror in 1969-70, and then the politics desk at the Express for a couple of years after that. I mainly interviewed politicians – aldermen, Members of Parliament, that kind of thing. I went by the byline of 'Phil Lovegood' – not many Muggles are named Xenophilius, after all!"
"Did you ever interview anyone I might have heard of?"
He shook his head. "Probably not. They were mostly unimportant politicians. The most memorable ones I ever interviewed were Enoch Powell and Roy Jenkins. I doubt someone your age would have ever heard of them."
Hermione grinned. "I've heard of both, actually. My mother has met Lord Jenkins on several occasions, actually – she ran for Parliament under him when I was three."
"Good heavens! Small world. Did she win?"
Hermione shook her head. "She came in third."
"Probably better for you – you wouldn't have seen much of her if she had. Miss Granger, it was a pleasure to meet you. Harry, the same – and thank you for the interview. I suspect I shall see you again, so until next time." Mr. Lovegood tipped his hat, and Harry and Hermione left the back room.
"So how did it go?" she asked eagerly.
"I think it went well."
"Were the questions all Quibblery?"
Harry laughed at that word. "Only a few. Most were pretty sensible. He's a decent interviewer."
"And he likes you. I told you you had nothing to worry about!" she said in a slightly smug manner.
"Thank Merlin," he said, relieved. "So what did you two do?"
"Oh, we talked, had breakfast, went to the book store. I can tell that book is going to be a hit with her, by the way, seeing how she reacted when it wasn't there. It was fun. She's a lot to take all at once, but I had a good time."
Harry could tell Hermione was sincere on that. "So what are you going to do next? We were planning on hitting Madame Puddifoot's. We were going to go on our own, but you can come along, I suppose..."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's not really a place for a third wheel. Don't worry, Harry, I won't interrupt your 'special' time together. The last thing I want to do is watch you two snog. Or watch anyone else snog..."
Before Harry could comment on that last statement, Hermione said, "We're going to all hit the Three Broomsticks again around four, if you two want to come. Neville said he'd go, and Ginny promised she'd sit with us this time, and Ron and Lavender will be there, I'm sure, unless he's driven her off in tears by that point."
"Come on, Hermione."
"Well, you remember how well it went with Padma."
"And you remember how well it went with me and Parvati. I'm sure Ron has learned how to treat a girl."
Hermione's face showed that she was somewhat sceptical of this.
Luna then emerged, wiping her eyes. "It's always hard to say goodbye," she said sadly. She hugged Harry and gave him a quick kiss. "Daddy says you were a compelling interview subject. He also said he knows you'll treat me right."
"Was he good at Divination?" Harry said playfully.
"No, but he doesn't have to be. I see it too. Now lets go get some more of those little cakes at the Tea Shoppe."
[A/N: Thanks once again to MandibleBones for betareading this, making some valuable suggestions, and stopping me from inadvertently stating that a member of Her Majesty's Privy Council for Canada was a Death Eater. Edited very minorly on 3/4/2012 to incorporate a suggestion by jediprankster.]