Chapter 248: Lovegood

Kyle had been invited to Nicolas Flamel's home as a guest, a detail meant to stay confidential. But, as Dumbledore had once told Harry, secrets had a knack for escaping into the open. By the time Kyle returned, it seemed everyone knew.

At dinner, Mr. Weasley, much like Chris had done earlier, kept asking Kyle about Nicolas Flamel and whether he'd encountered any talking refrigerators or enchanted muggle gadgets.

"Dad worships Nicolas Flamel," Fred whispered conspiratorially. "He's been practically vibrating with excitement ever since he accidentally ran into Headmaster Dumbledore and found out where you'd gone."

George added with a grin, "I think he's convinced Flamel's house is full of talking muggle appliances."

In the end, with Mr. Weasley's eager gaze fixed on him, Kyle had to gently break it to him that Nicolas's house did not have a talking refrigerator, nor did the lawnmower tell jokes while tap-dancing. In fact, none of the magical muggle appliances Mr. Weasley imagined could be found there.

This news left Mr. Weasley visibly deflated.

But Kyle really couldn't do much to cheer him up; Nicolas's estate in Paris was where he had lived for centuries, long before even the invention of light bulbs. Even the beach chair on which Nicolas sat listening to his opera recordings had been brought over from Devon and was simply an old favorite.

Though disappointed, Mr. Weasley perked up with a new idea: he decided to buy a similar beach chair and enchant it himself to feel closer to his alchemical hero.

Mrs. Weasley, however, did not share his enthusiasm. With the flying car incident still fresh in her mind, she was hardly thrilled about the prospect of another experimental muggle object in the house. Her sharp, disapproving gaze was enough to signal that Mr. Weasley would likely face an earful once dinner was over.

...

The others were curious about Kyle's recent experiences, but when Fred, George, and Ron learned he'd spent the entire month reading, their interest evaporated.

In their view, summer was for fun, and dedicating it to books seemed like a scandalous waste of time. Percy asked a few questions, but he didn't seem particularly engaged either; with no alchemy on the Hogwarts exams, he saw no reason to bother with extra studies.

Harry, however, was stunned, his mouth slightly agape ever since Mr. Weasley had brought up the topic. He'd known that Kyle was a guest somewhere, but he never imagined it was with the Nicolas Flamel, a wizard over 600 years old and creator of the Philosopher's Stone. While he was busy worrying about his homework, Kyle had been visiting a legend's home. It made Harry feel that sometimes, the gap between wizards was wider than that between wizards and gnomes.

After dinner, Mr. Weasley was indeed pulled aside by Mrs. Weasley, while Fred and George, feeling overstuffed from the meal, invited Kyle and Harry to join them in a traditional activity of St. Catchpole Village: a round of gnome-tossing in the garden.

"The rules are simple, Harry," Fred explained as they reached the garden. He grabbed a gnome, a creature resembling a potato with limbs, from the flowerbed. "You just need to throw it or use a bat to send it flying as far as possible. Like this…"

With a swift swing, Fred whacked the gnome with a short bat, sending it soaring through the evening sky. At Harry's surprised expression, George clarified, "Gnomes have tough skin, so a wooden bat barely bothers them. Sometimes I think they'd make decent Bludgers." Harry, hesitant at first, soon found himself bitten by a particularly feisty gnome and quickly morphed into a dedicated batting machine.

"Oh, that last one was at least 200 feet, Harry!" said Fred, watching the flight of the gnome.

"More like 250," said George, nodding. Since it was late, they didn't bother with strict measurements and simply estimated distances as they went along.

"I think I had the angle off on that last one... I bet I can hit it farther this time!" Harry said, grabbing another gnome, which had been watching the fun, and swung again.

"Nice one, Harry," George said with approval. "That was a textbook straight fly. You've got a knack for Beater skills—"

"Ow!"

A painful yelp echoed from somewhere in the distance. The group exchanged alarmed glances and rushed towards the sound. When they reached the spot, they saw a figure crouched down, clutching his head.

"I'm really sorry, sir!" Harry stammered. "I didn't know anyone was there…"

The man looked up, a little dazed, and smiled weakly. "No worries—it's my own fault for not paying attention." But then he noticed the group and froze, a faint smile dawning on his face. "Ah, Fred, George, Kyle… good, you're not throwing garden gnome again this time, right?"

It was then that they all recognized him: a man with slightly crossed eyes, fluffy white hair like cotton candy spilling down to his shoulders, dressed in a bright yellow robe. A gold chain hung around his neck with a pendant resembling a triangular eye.

"Mr. Lovegood?" Kyle asked, a little surprised.

The unfortunate man hit by the gnome was Xenophilius Lovegood, who lived just north of St. Catchpole Village.

"Just back from a trip?" Kyle asked.

"Yes," replied Lovegood, rubbing his head with a chuckle. "I was so caught up with Luna, searching for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, I lost track of time."

Just then, a little girl dashed up to them from the distance. She had long, messy blonde hair, wore carrot-shaped earrings and a necklace made from Butterbeer bottle caps, and was clutching half a leaf she'd picked up somewhere. Her whimsical look made her seem almost otherworldly.

"Dad, I found something interesting… Oh! Kyle, it's been ages!" Luna Lovegood said, bouncing over to him. Tilting her head, she fixed her slightly protuberant silver eyes on him.

"Long time no see, Luna," Kyle replied warmly. "Have you been hunting for Wrackspurts?"

"I've never seen Wrackspurts on you, and I don't see any now, either," Luna said, her voice lilting like a song. She then pointed at Harry. "But he's got loads of them, right there, buzzing around his ears."