The Council of Xeno

Hermione didn't have time to catch her breath before she heard a voice saying, " "I am Xenophilius and it is my honour to welcome you to The Tea-shop in the Ancient Priors, Hermione daughter of Victor and Jane. Please, join us."

Surprisingly, it seemed Mr Lovegood was in charge of this meeting, which indeed reminded Hermione of the Council of Elrond, the first part of which Mr Lovegood was paraphrasing. Just call me Frodoette, I suppose, she thought bemusedly. Or perhaps I am to be Samantha to Harry's Ring-bearer.

The man in question noticed that she was perplexed over his role, and grinned.

"You are, Miss Granger, after all working for us, are you not?" he asked.

She stammered out that she guessed she might be. I certainly never looked at it that way, she continued in her mind.

"And my dear wife here won't be able to participate when certain topics arise," he added, lowering his voice over the words "certain topics" as he did so.

Mrs Lovegood nodded. "In fact," she said, "I've been hexed - "

"Charmed," Mr Lovegood interrupted.

"Yes, well, charmed," she continued, "so that I cannot hear anyone talking about them."

"For that reason," said Mr Lovegood, "I'll try to keep us all talking about all the other topics that are of almost equal urgency. After that, my dear wife will go ahead to the Grangers' home and make things ready.

Hermione probably looked surprised at that, as well.

"While it is important and commendable that you and your parents communicate extremely well, they don't necessarily tell you everything they discuss with others. In this case, Mr and Mrs Granger offered us a place in their home this evening - or should I say, what will be this late night - so as to allow our discussion with them to continue past this meeting, if needed, while we were wending our way here," Mr Lovegood told her.

"You've intimidated the Dursleys enough," Mrs Lovegood added, "that the other guest of honour will be able to join you and stay overnight. And it will be salutary that our daughter mingle with future movers and shakers such as yourself and young Harry Potter."

Whoever had planned where everyone would sit had correctly sussed that being between the Grangers was the most comforting place for Harry and Hermione. Then again, Luna Lovegood was seated next to her mother, so it was probably obvious, if looked at objectively.

Mr Dumbledore sat next to Victor, and Ms Malabul sat next to Jane.

After Hermione and Harry had sat down, Hermione whipped around and asked Ms Malabul, "Vous êtes tous les deux des sorcières ?"

It was Ms DuCharme that answered her: "Ouai, c'est pourquoi nous avons remarqué que tu utilises ouvertement une boule souviens-toi-de-tout dans ta classe non magique, ma chère."

"Oh," said Hermione, a bit shame-faced. "They're witches, and I didn't know," she whispered to Harry, "and Ms DuCharme said that's why they noticed I was using a magical object in school in front of all my non-magical classmates."

Harry, who had been looking a bit tired already, perked up and laughed at that. Well, at least her humiliation was doing some good.

"Ms DuCharme is the one with the glasses?" Harry asked, following it up before she could reply with, "don't they speak any English?"

Hermione assured him that he was right about which one was Ms DuCharme, and added that she was in the habit of practicing her French with her two teachers that spoke it as their native tongue. That said, they both understood English perfectly, though Ms DuCharme didn't much like speaking it.

"What does she teach?" Harry asked.

"English," Hermione said.

With that, she got Harry to laugh for the second time that night.

"She's a stickler for proper grammar, too," she added. "She says if French babies can master a complex language like French, then older British children should be able to be flawless in their much simpler language, which has only a rudimentary concept of grammar to begin with."

Their whispering was interrupted when Mr Lovegood said, "Harry and Hermione, I am sure you are familiar with everyone here except the surprising guest in the opposite corner to Mr Dumbledore. His name is Sirius Black, and he's Harry Potter's godfather."

His godfather! What the hell? thought Harry. He looked the man over carefully. Harry'd had what he was growing to consider a hard life so far, but clearly, this man had him beat. He was as thin as a scarecrow, although better dressed. His hair had been cut short but was still rather untidy. His face was care-worn and his grey eyes were very sad.

"Hello, Harry," the man said, in a somewhat hoarse, quiet voice. "I have just gotten out of a terrible prison, worse than Devil's Island, if you have heard of that. I'm still rather shaky, but I came here because I am one of the few people who are connected to your early life that won't stonewall us or prevaricate if certain people demand it. I'm sorry I wasn't there after your parents were killed, Harry, but I am dedicated to helping you in any way I can, as best I can."

"Mr Black will be invaluable as a source of information for us, in particular about you, Harry," Aberforth Dumbledore spoke up and said.

"And we," Ms Malabul said, suddenly, "Can and will do the same for Hermione."

Surprisingly, Ms DuCharme turned to the Grangers and added, in English: "We know what she's like after she leaves your house, better than anyone else, and we'll share what we've seen and what we think."

"My wife has agreed to halt the more dangerous parts of her work, for a short while, since we're making progress on certain topics faster than her risk-taking would move her forward.," Mr Lovegood said. "Thus, Ms Granger, you can, for a bit, be at peace in your mind over her."

It was a good thing he said that, as Mrs Lovegood had actually started to shake and looked very pale. It was probably, Hermione guessed, that they were talking too close to "certain topics."

They were interrupted by a knock on the door, and Mr Lovegood called out, "Enter."

A woman with auburn hair with some streaks of grey, and wearing what looked like an old-fashioned monocle came in and sat near Sirius Black. Hermione could not place her, but then again, the books had mostly concerned themselves with those her age and a little older or younger, so she could be an important character, for all she knew.

"This is Madame Amelia Bones, the chief law enforcer of the witches and wizards of Great Britain," Mr Lovegood announced. "The two children that aren't my daughter are Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. You may or may not have had some contact with them, Madame Bones."

Madame Bones didn't say anything to that, but Hermione could see her well enough to notice her eyebrow rose up at hearing Mr Lovegood's ambiguous statement.

"Madame Bones, there are certain topics that haven't concerned you, and may never concern you, I pray it's so, that we cannot discuss yet, so if our discussion veers over there, and we all clam up, please accept that it's not necessarily our choice to do so."

"But that," he continued, leads nicely into our first discussable topic: How to keep the attention of "certain people" off of Harry and Hermione. The best person to speak to that is Aberforth Dumbledore, so I yield the floor to him."

Mr Dumbledore thanked Mr Lovegood, then began: "Albus Dumbledore will never take his attention off of young Harry Potter; the best we can do is to use misdirection and masks so that he finds being overly intrusive to be boring and perhaps pointless."

"As for Ms Granger, she's intimately connected to efforts to improve the lot of young Harry, and I have taken some steps to help her stay away from excessive scrutiny. While the time is too little to train him in Occlumency, what I will do if he visits weekly should suffice to keep all but the most determined Legilimency out of those thoughts it would be best if Harry concealed."

"Ms Granger bears a charm against Legilimency, though for obvious reasons it would be a catastrophe if it were needed and displayed openly," he said. "She has a fine mind, and it is possible her well-ordered thoughts would explain that it's hard for passive Legilimency to obtain her surface thoughts."

At that, he got an expression on his face that reminded Hermione of what was written about the other Dumbledore. He was clearly amused, and it would not be out of place to say his eyes twinkled a little. Hermione had managed to find a picture of Albus Dumbledore in old copies of the Daily Prophet, and the two did look alike, but their bearing and expressions seemed miles apart.

"I imagine I look a bit like my brother at this moment?" Hermione heard, and it took her a moment to realise it was directed at her. "Our ability to suddenly find humour in our daily lives is a gift we inherited from our unfortunate father, Percival. He was quick to laugh, quick to cry, quick to rage. Quick to love, and quick to hate. Any moderation we acquired was from our mother, Kendra. As to what amused me?"

"Now that all have met all, and we are met over very serious matters, does anyone object to hearing Xenophilius Lovegood here give us a summary of the situation in the wizarding world? Madame Bones, for instance, knows her bailiwick, and I know my goats, but perhaps a journalist can see the broad picture best, at times."

Most there nodded, and no one objected.

"With that, then, let us formally begin the Council of Xeno," he said, eyes still showing his amusement.