#23
Name: Xenophilius Lovegood
Birthdate: 20 December 1960
House: Ravenclaw
Residence: family farmhouse in Hay-on-Wye, Wales
Classes: Divination, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, History of Magic, Charms
Positions: Secretary of the Charms Club, member of the Gobstones Club, (possible Quidditch commentator?)
Appearance: Xeno had, as a small child, white-blond hair that has darkened into a warm brunette as the years pass by. He feels no inclination to take care of it or cut it. His green-grey eyes default to wide, though they narrow with virtually any expression. His face is an average oval shape with a small cleft in his chin.
Xeno has reached six feet tall but is unlikely to grow any taller; mum and dad are both a bit shorter than he is. He is narrow through the shoulders and hips and still carries an adolescent awkwardness in his frame and his walk. This gives the impression that he is smaller than he really is, to be compensated by a larger-than-life manner later in life. His hands and feet are proportionate to his body, and he is not particularly good- or bad-looking.
Xeno has no real distinguishing marks. He generally has a layer of dirt over his shoes, and his trouser hems are often a mess; his wanderings make this unavoidable. There is the usual back-pocket bulge of young men, though Xeno’s is from a reporter-style notebook and pen kept on his person at all times rather than a wallet. In his front pocket, he keeps a pocket watch made for him by his father. He prefers his clothes “with character”, which is to say hand-me-down and out of style even when they were new. He often has ink spots on his hands, forearms, and clothing; this is not something he’s worried about.
History: Xeno was really named more for his mother than himself, not that he would ever raise a single objection to it: he would himself grow into a lover of all things strange and different. He arrived on a cloudy afternoon, a day or two behind schedule, but his was a quick and easy birth; and Glenda was thankful.
His childhood, however, proved much more difficult. While Xeno, called Xenos around the home, was capable and helpful in the farm chores, it was not unusual for his mind to wander off and Xeno to follow it. The first time this happened Xeno was all of five and had taken himself down into town, dragging a nearly empty water bucket behind him. When the baker’s wife stopped him to ask where his mum was, Xeno answered and waited politely as the baker went to get Glenda at home. Of course, Glenda was frantic by then, and she immediately dragged Xeno and his water bucket back home. She tried to keep a better eye on him, but it was about once every month or two that she had to wander the yard and look into trees, go to town and check the bookshops (every one of them), climb the hills and look for a blond head in the dingy wool of the sheep flock.
Xeno took to his family’s open-mindedness and love of letters easily. His intense natural curiosity and his absolute inability to curb it made him a talkative child full of questions. His magical ability never really manifested in an obvious way. He took an abnormal preoccupation with crypto zoology and mythologies that kept his brain active, but he seemed destined for ‘eccentric’ rather than ‘magical’.
The arrival of his Hogwarts letter was a surprise to Xeno and greater surprise to Glenda. Aldo was thrilled, having never had the opportunity to attend and having heard so much about the school. With such unchecked excitement and pride, Aldo had to come out with his wife and son about his own magical heritage. It was a tense and silent week in the Lovegood household as Glenda considered her feelings toward this new revelation from the men she had known for decades and given birth to. Xeno wandered a bit more than usual in those days until one day he returned home to dad showing mom how he could do the dishes. Business went on as usual from there.
Aldo escorted Xeno to the Hogwarts Express, and Xeno was satisfied with his placement in Ravenclaw after hearing the Sorting Hat’s song. He was a capable if eccentric first year, still prone to wandering--though the castle proved more than enough ground for his thoughts and feet--but eager to apply himself to studies. He found a great interest in History of Magic (which many of his fellow students found more indicative of his oddness than nearly anything else) and in third year happily added Care of Magical Creatures to his schedule. He is not as talented with the more precise arts, but Xeno does enjoy the trying.
In second year, Xeno started a newsletter, just front and back of a sheet of parchment with the Ravenclaw Tower news in lieu of checking the Tower bulletin board. In the next few years Xeno gained a few extra hands to create a bona fide zine covering the entire school that he dubbed the “Pettifog & Hedge”. (Of course, Xeno knows people think he’s a little strange). Though no one really looks forward to the next edition, a fair number of the pamphlets were confiscated in various classes.
So Xeno’s been well-prepared for his seventh year. He drifts in and out of social situations and isn’t too worried about what sticks and what doesn’t; he does fairly well in his gut-instinct classes and has followed them to their N.E.W.T. levels; he looks forward to leaving Hogwarts, though he has no plans to speak of.
Personality: There are essentially three basic tenets of Xeno.
Xeno is, in a word, observant--he just takes his observations to fairly far-reaching extrapolations. He also tends to notice things, ideas, or suggestions that go undetected by the general populace. It is an understatement to say that Xeno prefers the unorthodox. Open-mindedness is a cornerstone in his family, and Xeno has touted it as a personal mantra. By virtue of this, he is naturally curious, though he offers questions where most would see no need for them.
Beyond that, he is dedicated. School holidays were prime opportunities to expand his horizons, studying muggle literature and stories or exploring the world around his home. Of course, this ridiculous single-mindedness has led to a preoccupied air that comes off as goofy and out of touch. He is sometimes acutely aware of this but mostly ignores it.
Never one to be preoccupied with conventional ideas of daily necessities, Xeno also prioritizes differently. He never carries money on his person unless planning to attend an event where it is expressly needed. He doesn’t think the symbols of status are important and gladly would never buy another article of clothing as long as he lives. As it is, he prefers to find his clothes in his father’s old closets and boxes. Time well spent is time in a book or in the field; otherwise it’s just a waste.
The one thing that gets through Xeno’s cloudy bubble of acceptance is closed-mindedness. In the future, when he’s seen how difficult it can be to continue resisting, he will merely become upset and saddened. Nowadays, however, Xeno is ready to call people out, ready to have the argument rather than walk away. He’s not specifically confrontational on any one topic but rather on any of them if the argument strikes him as narrow-minded.
Xeno is talkative on the right topic. He’s not chatty by any stretch of the imagination. He takes his work very serious, though he does not take himself seriously at all.
RP Entry: Frowning down on his work, Xeno paused. He turned the page round until the was upside and studied it again. The layout was all wrong. The damned thing looked like a soda bottle monocle, not a magnifying glass. He would never the page charmed right. But it had to go out. Surely people were expecting it, so he sighed, rubbed his bleary eyes, and leaned back over the parchment to brainstorm.
He jumped at the throat clearing behind him and stared blankly at Madam Pince when she reminded him the library would close in ten minutes. Madam Pince looked rather indecisive about something but left without much more explanation. Bother. Maybe he would find better help in the Tower. Instead of heading up, though, Xeno resumed the position hunched over his badly charmed parchment. This would never do. What was so wonky about it? He had been staring too long, but he continued to do so.
Madam Pince was shooing him away before he knew it, and Xenophilius took himself, his bag, and his parchment around the corner to perch in a nook near a large torch. He didn’t realize how long he sat until another step of footsteps echoed at the far end of the corridor. In a smooth practiced he pulled out his watch. He had not realized it was this late. And now a prefect to come and interrupt his thoughts. Xeno hurried to collect his things, to get moving before the voice broke the fragile thought trains and processes--but to no avail. The voice rang out, echoing like the footsteps had before it, and Xeno turned in place to stare down its owner.
