Sherlock and his team sailed on the ferry very smoothly. In the evening of the same day, they arrived at the French port city of Caen.
This is located in the Normandy district of France, yes, it is the place where the Allied forces landed during World War II.
Sherlock found a hotel that looked pretty good in the downtown area of Caen. He parked his car and took Harry to find a restaurant to have an elegant French food.
Although French food is much better than in the UK, Harry’s food is still tasteless.
During the meal, there were always many beautiful Muggle sisters who asked Sherlock for a call and asked him for a phone number.
Even though Sherlock always refused because he had no phone number, there were several of them vaguely saying that he had a phone number at home and that the bedroom room was very large, so he invited him to visit.
Seeing Sherlock politely rejecting a woman who said she accidentally bought an extra movie ticket and wanted to invite a gentleman to go to the movie with her, Harry said sourly.
“They are so lonely. Are they really short of people to accompany them to swim, watch movies, and visit the bedroom?”
Sherlock rolled his eyes at him.
“You little brat, what do you know.”
With Sherlock’s outstanding appearance and learning magic, the quiet and mysterious temperament naturally appeared on his body, making him a walking hormone harvester no matter where he was.
They only stayed in Caen for one day, and after visiting the local famous attractions, the next day, they drove away from the city.
Before leaving, Sherlock also went to the mall to buy a purely mechanical camera to use as a tool for taking photos along the way.
Next, instead of heading to Paris, located west of Caen, they drove all the way south, stopping to taste local food and enjoy the scenery every time they passed by a city.
In Leon, they watched a racing race (“There is no excitement from a Quidditch race.” Harry said disdainfully at the cheering crowd), and came to Somil to taste the special wine (at Harry’s constant request, Sherlock gave him a taste, and then he spit out that mouthful).
I went to Bordeaux to eat foie gras, saw medieval castles (Harry said that none of these castles have a momentum, but the foie gras tasted really good), and visited the Church of St. Cernan in Toulouse, the last stop of my trip to southern France (Sherlock asked in the church why there are many people in the wizards, which is such a thought-provoking question, but Harry said that it would be better to have another bowl of excellent onion soup if you think so much).
Finally they filled the car with gas, left the city of Toulouse and headed towards the outskirts of the Pyrenees.
“Where are we going next? Professor.” Harry, who drank three bowls of onion soup at noon, asked with great satisfaction.
Sherlock parked the car on the road beside the field and pressed the button on the steering wheel that changed the function of the car.
This is the first time Harry has seen him prepare to use the flying function of the car after leaving Caen.
“We are going to fly into the Pyrenees. When we enter this mountain, we are going to visit the wizards in France.”
Harry blinked his eyes and looked at the towering mountains in the distance, asking in confusion.
“All French wizards like to live in the mountains and forests?”
“Your knowledge is really narrow. Harry, if Hermione was here, she would definitely know the destination of our trip.” Sherlock complained.
Harry was very dissatisfied and said blindly.
“We must be visiting some famous old wizard, and he lives in seclusion in this mountain range.”
Sherlock controlled the car to take off, flew towards the mountain, and gave Harry common sense.
“Do you know how many magic schools are in Europe?”
Harry thought for a moment, and finally shook his head honestly.
“I don’t know.”
“There are three magic schools in Europe, namely Hogwarts in the UK, Boothbaton in France, and Demstrong in Northern Europe. The place we are going to now is Boothbaton in France, but they are on summer vacation like Hogwarts. I don’t know if we can let us go in and visit it with the name of Professor Dumbledore.”
Sherlock obviously did his homework before coming.
“We were finally visiting Nick Lemay and his wife, the famous Busbaton alumni. Later, when the school was expanded, Nick Lemay and the others helped to pay. Busbaton also specially built a huge fountain on campus to commemorate them, and there was also an amazing and magnificent manor in their school.”
Harry was interested by his words. He had visited Muggle cities along the way, and he was almost forgetting that he was a wizard.
Sherlock wandered in a flying car in the Pyrenees for several hours, and finally discovered a prominent French-style complex in the forest.
Like Hogwarts’ hidden way, in the eyes of Muggles without magic and unmagical power, Boothbaton’s campus is just a large wasteland with weeds, and only wizards can see what it really looks like.