“Xenophilius Lovegood,” replied Luna’s father with brevity.  She thought she detected a note of humor in his voice.

“Who’s this, then?” growled the wizard, studying Luna.

“My Reporter and Chief Fact-checker,” replied Xenophilius.  Leaning forward, he added, “She’s also my daughter, Luna,” in a confidential tone.

The guard’s face relaxed for a moment as he gave her the slightest of nods and very nearly smiled.  Luna returned the restrained greeting with equal reserve.  He quickly resumed his gruff demeanor and said, “You,” indicating Xenophilius, “stand here, please.”  He complied and the guard scanned him from head to toe, back to front with a springy, gold-colored metal rod he had taken from behind the desk.

When finished, he set down the rod and held out his hand, nearly barking the command, “Wand.”

Xenophilius blithely handed over his wand.  The guard weighed it on a brass scale that Luna knew was designed for that one purpose.  After a few moments, the scale vibrated gently and extruded a narrow piece of parchment.  The security guard read from this in a monotone:  “ ‘Ten and one-half inches, Kwets . . . Cats . . .’ ”

“Quetzal,”⁶ offered Xenophilius in a friendly way.

“Yes, hrrUumm,” said the wizard, clearing his throat loudly, “just as you say, ‘. . . tail feather core, in use twenty-one years.’  Correct?”

“Indubitably,” replied Luna’s father.  Upon seeing the look of mild confusion on the guard’s face, he nodded affirmatively.