Xenophilius Lovegood Quotes

Xenophilius Lovegood," he said, extending a hand to Harry. "My daughter and I live over the hill, so kind of the Weasleys to invite us. I think you know my Luna?" he added to Ron. "Yes" said Ron. "Isn't she with you?" "She lingered in that charming little garden to say hello to the gnomes, such a glorious infestation! How few wizards realize just how much we can learn from the wise little gnomes — or, to give then their correct names, the Gernumbli gardensi." "Ours do know a lot of excellent swear words," said Ron, "but I think Fred and George taught them those.

Merlin’s beard, what is Xenophilius Lovegood wearing? He looks like an omelet.

Bidding the wizard farewell, he turned to his daughter, who held up her finger and said, “Daddy, look — one of the gnomes actually bit me!” “How wonderful! Gnome saliva is enormously beneficial!” said Mr. Lovegood, seizing Luna’s outstretched finger and examining the bleeding puncture marks. “Luna, my love, if you should feel any burgeoning talent today — perhaps an unexpected urge to sing opera or to declaim in Mermish — do not repress it! You may have been gifted by the Gernumblies!” Ron, passing them in the opposite direction, let out a loud snort.

Three hand-painted signs had been tacked to a broken-down gate. The first read, THE QUIBBLER. EDITOR: X. LOVEGOOD The second, PICK YOUR OWN MISTLETOE The third, KEEP OFF THE DIRIGIBLE PLUMS

That’s Xenophilius Lovegood, he’s the father of a friend of ours,’ said Ron. His pugnacious tone indicated that they were not about to laugh at Xenophilius, despite the clear provocation. ‘Come and dance,’ he added abruptly to Hermione.

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, and Ron glanced at one another, and Harry knew that they were all thinking the same thing. 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 all in reasoned 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, disconcerted. “Say the Cloak existed…what about the 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. Hermoine 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 Harry quickly, before Hermione could retort, “you think that exists too?

How wonderful! Gnome saliva is enormously beneficial!” said Mr. Lovegood, seizing Luna’s outstretched finger and examining the bleeding puncture marks. “Luna, my love, if you should feel any burgeoning talent today--perhaps an unexpected urge to sing opera or to declaim in Mermish--do not repress it! You may have been gifted by the Gernumblies!” Ron, passing them in the opposite direction, let out a loud snort. “Ron can laugh,” said Luna serenely as Harry led her and Xenophilius toward their seats, “but my father has done a lot of research on Gernumbli magic.” “Really?” said Harry, who had long since decided not to challenge Luna or her father’s peculiar views.

And now, over to Romulus for our popular feature ‘Pals of Potter.’” “Thanks, River,” said another very familiar voice; Ron started to speak, but Hermione forestalled him in a whisper. “We know it’s Lupin!” “Romulus, do you maintain, as you have every time you’ve appeared on our program, that Harry Potter is still alive?” “I do,” said Lupin firmly. “There is no doubt at all in my mind that his death would be proclaimed as widely as possible by the Death Eaters if it had happened, because it would strike a deadly blow at the morale of those resisting the new regime. ‘The Boy Who Lived’ remains a symbol of everything for which we are fighting: the triumph of good, the power of innocence, the need to keep resisting.” A mixture of gratitude and shame welled up in Harry. Had Lupin forgiven him, then, for the terrible things he had said when they had last met? “And what would you say to Harry if you knew he was listening, Romulus?” “I’d tell him we’re all with him in spirit,” said Lupin, then hesitated slightly. “And I’d tell him to follow his instincts, which are good and nearly always right.” Harry looked at Hermione, whose eyes were full of tears. “Nearly always right,” she repeated. “Oh, didn’t I tell you?” said Ron in surprise. “Bill told me Lupin’s living with Tonks again! And apparently she’s getting pretty big too…” “…and our usual update on those friends of Harry Potter’s who are suffering for their allegiance?” Lee was saying. “Well, as regular listeners will know, several of the more outspoken supporters of Harry Potter have now been imprisoned, including Xenophilius Lovegood, erstwhile editor of The Quibbler,” said Lupin. “At least he’s still alive!” muttered Ron.

Are you--er--quite sure it’s Grindelwald’s--?” “I am not mistaken,” said Krum coldly. “I valked past that sign for several years, I know it vell.” “Well, there’s a chance,” said Harry, “that Xenophilius doesn’t actually know what the symbol means. The Lovegoods are quite…unusual. He could easily have picked it up somewhere and think it’s a cross section of the head of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack or something.” “The cross section of a vot?” “Well, I don’t know what they are, but apparently he and his daughter go on holiday looking for them…” Harry felt he was doing a bad job explaining Luna and her father. “That’s her,” he said, pointing at Luna, who was still dancing alone, waving her arms around her head like someone attempting to beat off midges. “Vy is she doing that?” asked Krum. “Probably trying to get rid of a Wrackspurt,” said Harry, who recognized the symptoms.

...what about the 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!

You don’t believe it either?” Harry asked him. “Nah, that story’s just one of those things you tell kids to teach them lessons, isn’t it? ‘Don’t go looking for trouble, don’t pick fights, don’t go messing around with stuff that’s best left alone! Just keep your head down, mind your own business, 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?” “One of those superstitions, isn’t it? ‘May-born witches will marry Muggles.’ ‘Jinx by twilight, undone by midnight.’ ‘Wand of elder, never prosper.’ You must’ve 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. The one good thing about her exasperation with Xenophilius was that it seemed to have made her forget that she was annoyed at Ron. “I think you’re right,” she told him. “It’s just a morality tale, it’s obvious which gift is best, which one you’d choose—” The three of them spoke at the same time; Hermione said, “the Cloak,” Ron said, “the wand,” and Harry said, “the stone.” They looked at each other, half surprised, half amused. “You’re supposed to say the Cloak,” Ron told Hermione, “but you wouldn’t need to be invisible if you had the wand. An unbeatable wand, Hermione, come on!” “We’ve already got an Invisibility Cloak,” said Harry. “And it’s helped us rather a lot, in case you hadn’t noticed!” said Hermione. “Whereas the wand would be bound to attract trouble—” “Only if you shouted about it,” argued Ron. “Only if you were prat enough to go dancing around, waving it over your head, and singing, ‘I’ve got an unbeatable wand, come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough.’ As long as you kept your trap shut—” “Yes, but could you keep your trap shut?” said Hermione, looking skeptical.

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 Hermoine slowly, and Harry could tell that she was trying to keep any trace of skepticism out of her voice, “that you believe these objects--these Hallows--actually exist?” Xenophilius raised his eyebrows again. “Well, of course.” “But,” said Hermione, and Harry could hear her restraint starting to crack, “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.” “Perhaps you ought to try on the hat, Hermione,” said Ron, nodding toward the ludicrous headdress. His voice shook with the strain of not laughing.

Merlin’s beard, what is Xenophilius Lovegood wearing? He looks like an omelet

All right,” said Hermione, disconcerted. “Say the Cloak existed . . . what about the 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.

While Mr Weasley repaired the damage and Hagrid shouted apologies to anybody who would listen, Harry hurried back to the entrance to find Ron face to face with a most eccentric-looking wizard. Slightly cross-eyed, with shoulder-length white hair the texture of candyfloss, he wore a cap whose tassel dangled in front of his nose and robes of an eye-watering shade of egg-yolk yellow. An odd symbol, rather like a triangular eye, glistened from a golden chain around his neck. ‘Xenophilius Lovegood,’ he said, extending a hand to Harry, ‘my daughter and I live just over the hill, so kind of the good Weasleys to invite us. But I think

Merlin’s beard, what is Xenophilius Lovegood wearing? He looks like an omelette.

Sagen wir, der Tarnumhang existiert... was ist mit dem Stein, Mr Lovegood? Dem Gegenstand, den Sie den Stein der Auferstehung nennen?' - 'Was soll damit sein?' - 'Nun, den kann es doch unmöglich geben?' - 'Beweisen Sie, dass es ihn nicht gibt', sagte Xenophilius. Hermine blickte empört. 'Aber das ist - Verzeihung, aber das ist vollkommen lächerlich! Wie kann ich denn jemals beweisen, dass er nicht existiert? Erwarten Sie, dass ich - dass ich sämtliche Kieselsteine der Welt einsammle und sie prüfe? Ich meine, man könnte von allem behaupten, dass es existiert, aus dem einzigen Grund, dass niemand bewiesen hat, dass es nicht existiert.' - 'Ja, das könnte man', sagte Xenophilius. 'Es freut mich zu sehen, dass Sie sich ein wenig aufgeschlossen haben.

An odd symbol, rather like a triangular eye, glistened from a golden chain around his neck. “Xenophilius Lovegood,” he said, extending a hand

and your hair’s much too long, Ronald, for a moment I thought you were Ginevra. Merlin’s beard, what is Xenophilius Lovegood wearing? He looks like an omelette. And who are you?’ she barked at Harry.