As the editor of The Quibbler, Xenophilius certainly knew how to stir up a sensation.
Still, just to be safe, he insisted that Wyzett write a letter to Professor Snape to ask for his opinion.
"It's absolutely not because I'm afraid of Snape!" Xenophilius declared, puffing out his chest with theatrical bravado. "It's just that this way, we can avoid any unnecessary disputes."
"Understood!" Wyzett nodded solemnly, trying to keep a straight face. "It'll definitely save a lot of trouble."
Catching Luna's eyes crinkling with laughter, Xenophilius coughed and said, "Sweetheart, go pick a few dittany leaves so Wyzett can check their quality."
Wyzett was about to follow her, but Xenophilius stopped him. "That book getting displayed front and center at Flourish and Blotts—I imagine you had something to do with that, didn't you?"
"Me?" Wyzett paused, then replied uncertainly, "Maybe… Mr. Bassat has always looked out for me."
Xenophilius raised his eyebrows. "He's been sniffing around for information about your past, too… but how would I know anything about that?"
"You coming to live with us was all arranged by that old soft-candy at the Ministry." His tone turned suddenly dark.
"Old… soft-candy?"
"Cornelius Fudge, of course! Fudge—like the sweet! That man is sly as a Kneazle. Did you hear about last year's Gringotts break-in?"
"Yeah, it was all over the papers."
"That was old Fudge's mess! He secretly assassinates goblins, turns them into pies, or just drowns them outright!"
"What?"
"Surprised, aren't you? That old soft-candy even has an army of Heliopaths just to keep Dumbledore in check!"
"To keep Dumbledore in check?"
"Absolutely! He's terrified Dumbledore will steal his job—he's got a heart blacker than a Hungarian Horntail!"
"I see, I'll keep that in mind!"
"Good! Never underestimate old Fudge! He's got the Department of Mysteries brewing up deadly poisons, and anyone who knows his secrets ends up on his hit list!"
…
Xenophilius rattled on and on, finally lowering his voice conspiratorially, "All this is top secret, you know! I only tell you because you're family."
Wyzett ventured, "Is it because… Professor Snape taught me potion-brewing? So I'm immune to poison?"
"You've got a real knack for this!" Xenophilius shot him an approving look.
Out of all that wild information, Wyzett suspected only the bit about Fudge being wary of Dumbledore might actually be true.
Just as his head was starting to spin, Luna finally returned—a true savior.
She brought not only two freshly picked dittany leaves, but also a small plate of washed dirigible plums for dessert.
Xenophilius picked up a plum and beamed, "My darling's as wonderful as a house-elf!"
Wyzett nodded so enthusiastically he nearly strained his neck—this was the truest statement he'd heard all evening.
"I just did what I could…" Luna's cheeks were rosy, looking even more delectable than the plums themselves.
Xenophilius was a man of action. The very next morning, he was up at the crack of dawn, dragging Wyzett and Luna off to the Leaky Cauldron.
Intent on restoring the dignity he'd lost the previous night, he was determined to master the Muggle bus and queue up at the Ministry for wizarding passports.
Wyzett had prepared pennies and pound notes in advance before waving them off.
He pulled out last year's school supply list, carefully checking each item.
"Everything except textbooks can be bought ahead of time. Next time will be much easier."
This was Xenophilius's assignment: take Luna to pick up some school supplies, then meet up at the Ministry.
With Mr. Bassat absent from the bookstore, they didn't linger, but instead dove straight into their shopping spree—cauldron, crystal phials, telescope, parchment, quills, and more.
Next, they strolled into Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, where the bejeweled Madam Malkin swept over to greet them.
"Oh, what lovely children! I think I remember you… you were here last year, weren't you? What can I get for you this time? Custom or ready-to-wear?"
Faced with her overwhelming enthusiasm, Wyzett replied a bit shyly, "Just the same as last year, please."
"What a good lad… I'll see to it at once!" Madam Malkin turned to Luna, drew her wand, and summoned a measuring tape to flit around, taking her measurements.
Even the plain black school robes looked stunning on Luna.
For the girls' robes, Madam Malkin had added a few thoughtful touches—a ribbon with a bow at the collar, and another at the back to accentuate her slim waist. With Luna's gentle smile, she looked almost ethereal.
"Such a beautiful young lady… Would you like to try something besides school robes?"
Madam Malkin wasn't shy about her sales pitch, even turning to Wyzett. "See? Even in simple robes she looks lovely. Why not pick out something extra?"
Wyzett glanced at Luna, noticing the faint blush on her cheeks, as pink and sweet as cherry blossoms.
"You look wonderful!" he said earnestly. "Luna, is there anything else you'd like?"
"I bought plenty over Christmas—what I have is enough." Luna tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Maybe next time."
"Thank you, Madam Malkin! We'll leave it for another day. Appreciate your help!"
With a cheerful jingle of the bell, they left the shop.
…
Maybe it was the heat, but Wyzett noticed the blush on Luna's face still hadn't faded. He guided her to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.
Inside, Florean Fortescue was crafting ice cream, waving his wand to levitate a block of ice.
Under his spell, the ice spun through the air, scattering shavings that piled into a sparkling mountain in a bowl, finished with strawberry syrup—strawberry shaved ice.
Then, with another flick, he sent a scoop of ice cream soaring like an owl before it landed gracefully atop the dessert.
Girls loved sweets; even those indifferent to sugar couldn't resist the magic of such whimsical presentation—owl-shaped ice cream perched on a mound of frosty delight.
Watching the show, Luna's eyes sparkled brighter than the shaved ice itself.
Fortescue set aside his wand and smiled. "What can I get you?"
Luna didn't answer him directly, but turned to Wyzett. "I… I'd like some orange-flavored shaved ice."
Wyzett caught the hint of hesitation in her eyes, then turned to Fortescue. "One small orange shaved ice, and a mini owl ice cream, please. Is that alright?"
"Of course! Coming right up!"
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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