The Adopted Weasley

8~ Where's Luna?

There was a short silence in which Xenophilius glanced out of the window. Already the sun was low in the sky.

"Luna ought to have enough Plimpies soon," he said quietly.

"When you say 'master of Death'-"said Ron.

"Master," said Xenophilius, waving an airy hand. "Conqueror. Vanquisher. Whichever term you prefer."

"But then... do you mean..." said Hermione slowly, Grace could tell that she was trying to keep any trace of skepticism out of her voice, "that you believe these objects- these Hallows- really exist?"

Xenophilius raised his eyebrows again.

"Well, of course."

"But," said Hermione. "Mr. Lovegood, how can you possibly believe-?"

"Luna has told me all about you, young lady," said Xenophilius. "You are, I gather, not unintelligent, but painfully limited. Narrow. Close-minded."

"Mr. Lovegood," Hermione began again, "We all know that there are such things as Invisibility Cloaks. They are rare, but they exist. But-"

"Ah, but the Third Hallow is a true Cloak of Invisibility, Miss Granger! I mean to say, it is not a traveling cloak imbued with a Disillusionment Charm, or carrying a Bedazzling Hex, or else woven from Demiguise hair, which will hide one initially but fade with the years until it turns opaque. We are talking about a cloak that really and truly renders the wearer completely invisible, and endures eternally, giving constant and impenetrable concealment, no matter what spells are cast at it. How many cloaks have you ever seen like that, Miss Granger?"

Hermione opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again, looking more confused than ever. She, Harry, Grace and Ron glanced at one another, it so happened that a cloak exactly like the one Xenophilius had just described was in the room with them at that very moment.

"Exactly," said Xenophilius, as if he had defeated them in an argument. "None of you have ever seen such a thing. The possessor would be immeasurably rich, would he not?"

He glanced out of the window again. The sky was now tinged with the faintest trace of pink.

"All right," said Hermione. "Say the Cloak existed... What about that stone, Mr. Lovegood? The thing you call the Resurrection Stone?"

"What of it?"

"Well, how can that be real?"

"Prove that it is not," said Xenophilius.

Hermione looked outraged.

"But that's- I'm sorry, but that's completely ridiculous! How can I possibly prove it doesn't exist? Do you expect me to get hold of- of all the pebbles in the world and test them? I mean, you could claim that anything's real if the only basis for believing in it is that nobody's proved it doesn't exist!"

"Yes, you could," said Xenophilius. "I am glad to see that you are opening your mind a little."

"So the Elder Wand," said Grace quickly, before Hermione could keep going. "You think that exists too?"

"Oh, well, in that case there is endless evidence," said Xenophilius. "The Elder Wand is the Hallow that is most easily traced, because of the way in which it passes from hand to hand."

"Which is what?" asked Harry.

"Which is that the possessor of the wand must capture it from its previous owner, if he is to be truly master of it," said Xenophilius. "Surely you have heard of the way the wand came to Egbert the Egregious, after his slaughter of Emeric the Evil? Of how Godelot died in his own cellar after his son, Hereward, took the wand from him? Of the dreadful Loxias, who took the wand from Baraabas Deverill, whom he had killed? The bloody trail of the Elder Wand is splattered across the pages of Wizarding history."

"So where do you think the Elder Wand is now?" asked Ron.

"Alas, who knows?" said Xenophilius, as he gazed out of the window. "Who knows where the Elder Wand lies hidden? The trail goes cold with Arcus and Livius. Who can say which of them really defeated Loxias, and which took the wand? And who can say who may have defeated them? History, alas, does not tell us."

There was a pause. Finally Hermione asked stiffly, "Mr. Lovegood, does the Peverell family have anything to do with the Deathly Hallows?"

Xenophilius looked taken aback.

"But you have been misleading me, young woman!" said Xenophilius, now sitting up much straighter in his chair and goggling at Hermione. "I thought you were new to the Hallows Quest! Many of us Questers believe that the Peverells have everything- everything!- to do with the Hallows!"

"Who are the Peverells?" asked Ron.

"That was the name on the grave with the mark on it, in Godric's Hollow," said Hermione, still watching Xenophilius. "Ignotus Peverell."

"Exactly!" said Xenophilius, his forefinger raised pedantically. "The sign of the Death Hallows on Ignotus's grave is conclusive proof!"

"Of what?" asked Ron.

"Why, that the three brothers in the story were actually the three Peverell brothers, Antioch, Cadmus and Ignotus! That they were the original owners of the Hallows!"

With another glance at the window he got to his feet, picked up the tray, and headed for the spiral staircase.

"You will stay for dinner?" he called, as he vanished downstairs again. "Everybody always requests our recipe for Freshwater Plimply soup."

"Probably to show the Poisoning Department at St. Mungo's," said Ron under his breath, Grace smacked him in the back of the head. "Ouch! Grace!"

"What do you think?" Harry asked Hermione.

"Oh, Harry," she said wearily, "it's a pile of utter rubbish. This can't be what the sign really means. This must just be his weird take on it. What a waste of time."

"Do you believe him?" Harry asked Ron.

"Nah, that story's just one of those things you tell kids to teach them lessons, isn't it? And you'll be okay. Come to think of it," Ron added. "Maybe that story's why elder wands are supposed to be unlucky."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, confused.

"One of those superstitions, isn't it? 'May-born witches will marry Muggles.' 'Jinx by twilight, undone by midnight.' 'Wand of cider, never prosper.' You must have heard them. My mum's full of them."

"Harry and I were raised by Muggles," Hermione reminded him. "We were taught different superstitions." She sighed deeply as a rather pungent smell drifted up from the kitchen. "I mean you're right, it's obvious that it's just an old wives tale, and the best one to have would be-"

The three of them spoke at the same time: Hermione said, "the Cloak," Ron said, "the wand," and Harry said, "the stone." Grace stayed silent, thinking as the others talked.

Harry left for a moment and came back, looking worried. 

"What's wrong?" Grace asked.

"Mr. Lovegood," said Harry. "Where's Luna?"

"Excuse me?"

"Where's Luna?"

Xenophilius licked his lips "They took my Luna," he whispered, "Because of what I've been writing. They took my Luna and I don't know where she is, what they've done to her. But they might give her back to me if I- If I-"

"Hand over Harry?" Hermione finished for him.

"No deal." said Ron flatly. "Get out of the way, we're leaving."

Xenophilius shook his head. 

"They will be here any moment. I must save Luna. I cannot lose Luna. You must not leave."