Sherlock and the others sailed smoothly on the ferry. In the evening of the same day, they arrived at Caen. It’s located in Normandy, France, and it’s where the Allies landed during World War II.
He found a decent-looking hotel downtown, parked the car, and took Harry to a restaurant for a French meal. Although French food was much better than in England, Harry didn’t like it.
There were always a lot of pretty Muggles approaching Sherlock at dinner and asking for his phone number. Even if Sherlock refused every time because he didn’t have a phone, several of them said that they had a phone at home and would give him one if he visited their home.
Seeing that Sherlock politely declined an invitation from a woman who said she had accidentally bought an extra movie ticket and wanted to invite him to the movies, Harry said sourly.
“They’re so desperate. They someone to go with them, watch movies, and visit their home?”
Sherlock rolled his eyes at him, “You’re just a kid. You don’t know anything.”
They only stayed in Caen for one day and drove out of the city the next day after visiting a famous local attraction. Before leaving, Sherlock went to the mall to buy a camera, which was used as a tool for taking pictures along the way.
Instead of heading to Paris, they drove all the way south, stopping at each city to taste the local cuisine and admire the scenery.
They watched a car race. ‘Not as exciting as a Quidditch match’ is what Harry said, and they also tasted several local wines. They went to Bordeaux to eat foie gras, saw the medieval castles and Harry said that these castles are not as good as Hogwarts castle but he likes the taste of foie gras.
On their last stop in the south of France, they visited Toulouse and the Basilica of Saint-Sernin Church. Sherlock wondered why there would be many religious wizards, but Harry said that it would be better not to think about it and just enjoy the trip.
Finally, they filled up the car with snacks and left Toulouse for the suburbs close to the Pyrenees.
“Where are we going next, Professor?” Harry asked with great satisfaction.
Sherlock parked the car on the side road of the field and pressed the button on the steering wheel that was modified before. This was the first time Harry had seen him prepare to use the car’s flight function.
“We’re going to fly into the Pyrenees, and when we get into this mountain, we’re going to visit the wizards in France.”
Harry blinked at the towering mountains in the distance and asked, “Do all wizards in France like to live in deep mountains and forests?”
“Your view is too narrow, Harry. If Hermione is here, she knows the destination of our trip.” Sherlock complained.
Harry was unconvinced, “I’m assuming we’ll be visiting some well-known wizard who lives in seclusion on this mountain.”
Sherlock controlled the car to take off and flew towards the mountains.
“Do you know how many schools of magic there are in Europe?”
Harry thought for a moment and shook his head honestly, “I don’t know.”
“There are three schools of magic in Europe. Hogwarts is in England, Beauxbatons is in France, and Durmstrang is in northern Europe. The place we’re going to now is the French school of magic, Beauxbatons. But they are on summer vacation like Hogwarts, and I wonder if they can let visit in the name of Professor Dumbledore.”
Sherlock had done his homework before coming.
“Nicholas Flamel and his wife, who we will eventually visit on this trip later, are famous Beauxbatons alumni. Later, when the school grew bigger, Flamel and the others also helped with financing Beauxbatons. A huge fountain was built in the school as a gratitude for their contribution.”
Harry was intrigued by what he said, and he visited so many Muggle cities along the way that he almost forgot that he was a wizard. Sherlock wandered the Pyrenees in the car for several hours and found remarkable French-style architecture in the mountains.
In the same way that Hogwarts hides, in the eyes of Muggles, who have no magic power, the area where Beauxbatons resides is just a large wasteland overgrown with grass, and only wizards can see what it really looks like. Sherlock didn’t drive around on Beauxbatons but landed directly in front of the school’s gate.
When they got out of the car, they could see Beauxbatons through the iron gate and a hall with only one floor but a large area inside it.
The hall door faced the direction of the school entrance, and above the door, Sherlock and Harry saw two golden interlaced wands, each with stars emerging from the tip, which seemed to be the school’s logo.
“Although Beauxbatons is not as old as Hogwarts, it has existed for seven hundred years. It’s not just French students, but students from Spain, Portugal, Luxembourg, Belgium and Netherlands studied here.”
Sherlock gives Harry some important pieces of information, and the two walk to the gate together. The iron gate was closed, and it seemed there was no one in the school.
“How do we get in?” Harry asked.
Sherlock looked at the gate to see if there was anything similar to a doorbell. Just as they were wandering in front of the gate, a hoarse, old female voice suddenly sounded.
“What are you doing here at Beauxbatons?”
Sherlock and Harry looked in the direction the voice came from. It was an old witch in a rose-red robe. Her face was wrinkled. She stood inside the gate and watched them vigilantly.
Sherlock and Harry looked at each other, and Sherlock introduced himself.
“Hello, ma’am. I’m Sherlock Forrest, Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and this is Harry Potter, my student. We’re on a trip to France, and we want to visit Beauxbatons on the way. I wonder if we can come in?”
“A professor and a student from Hogwarts?” She looked up and down at Sherlock and Harry, “Beauxbatons does not refuse visitors, but I want to see something that can prove your identity.”
Perhaps Harry’s name is only known to English wizards, and the French wizards did not show any shock when they heard his name.
Sherlock was prepared for this. Wizards don’t have an ID card. However, under normal circumstances, after passing the Apparition exam, an adult wizard will have a Ministry of Magic-issued license. This license will be printed with their photo and name, and it is difficult to forge it.
However, Sherlock used the letter of appointment sent to him by Hogwarts to prove his identity. It also had his photo and information printed on it, which could prove his identity as a professor.
After studying the letter Sherlock handed, she opened the gate and let them in.
“It’s summer holiday, and there is no one else in the school except a few students and teachers.” Her attitude was not friendly, but it was not hostile, “My name is Andrea Garret, the general affairs staff of this school, and I am responsible for managing the students’ activities.”
Harry walked into the Beauxbatons school behind her and whispered to Sherlock, “She’s much better than Filch.”
Sherlock tapped his head and taught him not to speak ill about someone else.
“Do you need me to give you a tour of our school?” Andrea asked.
Sherlock shrugged, “I won’t bother you anymore. You can just tell us where we are not allowed to go.”
Andrea shook her head. “There is no forbidden area in Beauxbatons, but you have to be careful in the magical animal breeding grounds on the west side of the garden. There are some unfriendly magical animals, and it is best not to provoke them.”
After saying goodbye to Garret in the Beauxbatons’ hall, Sherlock takes Harry on a tour of Beauxbatons.
“I suggest you stand in the middle of the fountain so that you’ll stand out more.” Sherlock held up the camera and motioned for Harry to stand in the middle, taking a photo of him with the fountain created after Nicholas Flamel.
They went to the garden behind the hall. It is said that at Christmas every year, the mountain fairies will dance here while the students are having their dinner, and so there will be beautiful ice sculptures around here.
While visiting Beauxbatons’ castle, they met a witch as tall as Hagrid. Sherlock recognized her immediately; she was Madame Maxime, the current principal of Beauxbatons.
“A Defense Against the Dark Arts professor from Hogwarts?” Madame Maxime glanced at Sherlock and set her eyes on Harry. “I’ve heard of your name before. Harry Potter, isn’t it? To think that Dumbledore would let you out on a trip easily.”