From Hogwarts to Strixhaven

The bow broke through the mist, splashing white waves, and a cruise ship was crossing the English Channel and heading to France across the sea.

After enjoying Professor Sprout's farewell cake in the staff lounge, Ivy and Dumbledore came to Diagon Alley from the fireplace of Hogwarts the next day.

They were going to the Muggle world from here, that is, Charing Cross Street in London outside the Leaky Cauldron.

After buying tickets at the port, Dumbledore and Ivy, wearing long suits and calfskin shoes, became the most eye-catching presence on the cruise ship.

Except for insurance salesmen and government officials, no fool would wear old-fashioned long sleeves in July in England.

As powerful wizards, Ivy and Dumbledore obviously had no such concerns. Even the flames that can melt metal can be controlled by their magic, so how could they be afraid of the July sun?

The journey was only two hours, so Ivy and Dumbledore chose to sit in the water bar at the bow.

The beer that the British love is provided here, as well as other refreshing drinks, including tea bags and freshly ground coffee.

But the two wizards made different choices. As an old wizard who has lived for more than a hundred years, Dumbledore is obviously the type who is willing to accept new things.

So he picked up the transparent glass, stared at the bubbles that kept coming out of the glass and asked: "The sound of these small bubbles breaking is really pleasant. What is it called, Ivy?"

"Sprite." Ivy put two slices of frozen lemon in his cup, "Lemon Sprite."

"Wonderful! Wonderful taste!" Dumbledore followed suit, first tasted a little, then took a big sip, "It's a bit like beer, but there is no alcohol that is harmful to health... Take a sip against the salty sea breeze, it's really refreshing... Hiccup-oh! It's so interesting! I've decided on Ivy, the password for the new semester is this, lemon Sprite!"

"As long as you are happy." What else can Ivy say?

In addition to lemon Sprite, Ivy also ordered two breakfasts, which were whole wheat sandwiches and a bacon fried egg.

Dumbledore tasted it with interest and sighed silently. It seems that he doesn't like all the things that belong to Muggles.

"I still miss the craftsmanship of the house elves more." The old man has good living habits, except for his hobby of eating sweets, so he still ate up his breakfast.

"After crossing the sea, this ship will go directly upstream along the Seine River and arrive in Paris." Ivy said, "Where are we going to visit Nicolas Flamel?"

"In Paris!" Dumbledore reached into his pocket and pulled out two things that looked like tickets, "Paris Opera! My old friend sent two tickets with the letter. He invited us to watch the opera."

Although Ivy has a pure old Union Jack London accent in this life, he still has no chance to participate in so-called elegant activities such as concerts. He doesn't even know what the difference is between opera and Peking opera.

"So, the Paris Opera House is a place belonging to the magic world?" Ivy asked uncertainly. Since the British Ministry of Magic was built under Whitehall, it was not special for the French wizards to take over the Paris Opera House.

"Of course not." Dumbledore seemed to be very surprised why he asked such a question. "That's a Muggle place. We went there only because Nico was an opera lover."

Come to think of it, who has lived for more than 600 years without a hobby?

Unlike the Seine River, which was stinking thirty years later, the water of the Seine River in the 1990s was still very clear. People walking along the river looked lazy and did not seem to have anything in a hurry to do.

In addition to becoming the visual focus of everyone, the two wizards from Britain did not encounter any difficulties.

The Paris Opera House is a magnificent place. The facade adopts a very classical Baroque style. Ivy has seen many of this architectural style on the streets of London more than a hundred years ago, but the old buildings in London look more vicissitudes. After all, the smog brought by industrialization always shrouds the port city, and it is not surprising that the stone walls are corroded.

In Ivy's opinion, the Baroque-style facade seemed to be divided into three parts. The top part was a symmetrical triangular vault, on which sat two gilded sculptures that looked like goddesses holding harps.

The middle part was a pile of marble columns, which looked similar to the Greek and Roman style, but more refined. Thanks to the overall hugeness, the columns were still very imposing.

At the bottom were arched doorways, which were numerous. Ivy counted them carefully and found a magical number - seven.

"It's nice to see you, my old friend." A voice that sounded more vicissitudes than Dumbledore, but still energetic, made Ivy retract his gaze.

It was an old man who dressed himself in white. He wore a white suit, revealing a white shirt inside, and he didn't wear a tie. His hair and beard were all white, and his skin was as pale as if he hadn't seen the sun for many years.

Except for two dark blue eyes, it was difficult to find any other color from him.

Dumbledore did not hug him when he met him, but shook his hand very carefully, as if Nicolas Flamel was a glass dish that was already full of cracks.

No mistake, one post, one content, one book, one forum, one 6, one 9!

"So, you are the Mr. Doom who ate my Philosopher's Stone as jelly beans?" Nicolas Flamel greeted Ivy in English.

But before Ivy could answer, he asked worriedly, "I am sure that the Philosopher's Stone is not a jelly bean. You are not upset, are you, Mr. Doom?"

"No. Thank you for your concern." Ivy was not sure what Nicolas Flamel's attitude was, so he answered the question cautiously.

"He's nothing like you, Dumbledore." Nicolas Flamel pointed at Ivy and said, "You were much more rude than he was."

"You misunderstood, Nico." Dumbledore took Nicolas Flamel's arm, "Although Ivy is my student,... in fact, we are more like partners."

"Another Grindelwald?" Nicolas Flamel turned and smiled at Ivy, "Then I have to be more respectful to you. I still remember clearly what Dumbledore's last partner did in Paris."

Ivy didn't intend to continue to dwell on this topic. He asked, "When does the opera start?"

"Can't wait? Right?" Nicolas Flamel's smile became bigger, "What you British people choreographed is actually a musical, which is different from ordinary operas. The performance will not start until the evening. We can eat something first."