Chapter 104: The Girl and the Spare Wand
After leaving 51 Rue de Montmorency, Ethan and Cyril didn't immediately head to the car.
Cyril cast a Muffliato and stood under a streetlamp chatting with Ethan.
"What do you think? Do you plan to give this book to Dumbledore? Or keep it yourself and find a suitable person to give it to?"
"I'll keep it for now. It's better not to reveal that I have this book at the moment. I think probably no one would expect him to give such an important book to me."
"It's good that you have your own ideas. Then let's go home." Cyril nodded and patted him on the shoulder.
"Mm." The two walked to the car and drove toward home.
"Wait." When they were almost home, Ethan stopped the driver. "I'll go buy some desserts. Mom said yesterday that the éclairs at that nearby dessert shop were quite delicious. I'll buy some for her."
When Ethan returned home carrying a small box of puffs, he found Sofia eating the very puffs he had just bought.
"Oops, I bought an extra portion." Ethan shrugged.
"It doesn't matter. I think your dad can definitely eat them." Sofia stood up, took the puffs from his hand, and gave him a big hug.
Albert could only say helplessly, "Of course, I just love eating puffs too much."
After eating just one from the box, Albert was so full he burped. Finally, he lay on the sofa for a while before going upstairs to rest.
The next day, they passed through the hidden entrance under the bronze maiden's skirt and arrived at a plaza.
Ethan thought to himself, The magical street is indeed very different from Diagon Alley; this place looks more like a small commercial plaza.
Their main purpose for visiting the magical street was to see how French shops differed from British ones, and incidentally buy some specialties of the French wizarding world as gifts for others.
In the entrance plaza, some peddlers without storefronts had set up stalls, selling all kinds of things.
Looking at the small plaza that resembled a flea market, the group was very interested. They went from stall to stall, bargaining with the vendors if they saw something they liked.
Although the items on these small stalls mostly didn't look very good, the prices these vendors asked were ruthless.
In the end, after strolling through the entire plaza, they bought very little. Only Albert purchased a wooden carving of an elephant, said to be carved by wizards from Africa. This elephant could perform simple movements like running and swinging its trunk.
Since the French region didn't use the Galleon system for transactions, all expenses in the magical street were paid by Cyril.
After finishing the plaza, they started walking along the street, visiting shop after shop.
Delacour Bookstore. Ethan looked at the shop sign.
Walking into the shop, the layout was somewhat different from Flourish and Blotts.
Flourish and Blotts was smaller, mostly filled with bookshelves and stacks of books, with a very small rest area.
Delacour Bookstore was twice as big as Flourish and Blotts. The bookshelves were placed more sparsely, and there was a rest area specifically set up in the corner.
"If you're tired, you can go sit there and rest. The shop also has various drinks to choose from." Cyril had obviously been there many times and knew the bookstore well.
After strolling through the plaza, a clothing store, and a magical pet shop, the group was indeed a bit tired.
Sofia and Albert picked out two illustrated storybooks and sat on the comfortable sofa, ordering two of the shop's specialty drinks: Peppermint Flaming Orange Soda.
Cyril accompanied Ethan to choose Beauxbatons textbooks he was interested in.
A girl who was also choosing books looked at the book in Ethan's hand and asked, "Are you a Beauxbatons student? How come I haven't seen you?"
"No, I'm from Hogwarts. Here in France for tourism, just buying some books to take back and read." Ethan paused slightly when saying the school name, as he wasn't sure if Hogwarts was pronounced that way in French.
"Oh, from England." This girl with long brown hair, blue eyes, and a very beautiful face lit up.
"Beauxbatons fourth year, Camille Durand." She extended her hand.
"Ethan Jones, Hogwarts second year." He shook the girl's hand gently. "Of course, that's after school starts."
"That's what I meant." The girl smiled, revealing her white teeth.
"If you don't mind, you can leave an address. We can become pen pals and write to each other." Camille's gaze swept over Ethan's handsome face.
Ethan felt flustered. He looked to his grandfather for help, but when he glanced over, the old man deliberately turned his head away, as if suddenly interested in a book.
"Yes or no? Hurry up, my family is still waiting for me to shop at other stores," Camille urged.
"Okay." Ethan thought it over and finally gave the address of Cyril's villa.
"Wait for me to write to you; I'll give you my address in the letter." Camille blew him a kiss and hurried out of the bookstore.
"You just watched? You watched your grandson suffer through such an awkward situation?" Ethan complained about the old man standing by and enjoying the show.
The old man teased, "Haha, doesn't that show how charming you are?"
Ethan rolled his eyes at him, grabbed a big stack of books, took the money Cyril had given him, paid at the front desk, and then sat down in the sofa lounge area.
Cyril had already ordered a Peppermint Flaming Orange Soda and recounted what had just happened to Albert and the others, making them laugh loudly.
Just then, a waiter brought an orange drink with a pale blue flame burning on top, garnished with a small peppermint leaf.
Cyril dismissed the waiter. "Want to taste it first? It's their specialty."
"Okay." Ethan put the books on the armrest of the sofa, held out his palm, and the flame from the drink fell into his hand.
He closed his hand, and the flame went out. Ethan calmly picked up the orange soda and took a sip. "Tastes good."
Cyril looked disappointed, as if he'd missed out on the fun. "I thought you'd blow it out."
Sofia, who hadn't seen Ethan do that before, exclaimed quietly, "You put out the fire with your palm?!"
Ethan acted as if all wizards could do that. "Yeah, just a little wizard trick."
The two looked at each other, seeming to realize Ethan was showing off, and immediately stopped talking, focusing on the illustrated books in their hands and drinking their sodas.
After resting in the bookstore for a while, the group continued to stroll through the magical street, where half the shops remained unexplored.
Passing a luxuriously decorated shop with a glittering sign, Cyril suggested, "Do you want to buy a spare wand? You can try and see what the difference is between British wands and French wands."
"Sure." The proposal spun around in Ethan's mind, and he agreed quickly. After all, apart from possibly spending a little extra money, this matter did him no harm.
Cyril introduced, "In Europe, there are actually many wandmaker families, but currently the most famous are Ollivander in Britain, Gregorovitch in Germany, and Lefebvre in France. This shop belongs to the Lefebvre family."
Ethan thought of Durmstrang. "That implies, of the three major European magic schools, apart from Durmstrang, the other two schools have a very famous wandmaker family near their respective countries?"
Cyril pushed open the shop door. "Yes, Germany isn't very far from Durmstrang. Presumably, the appearance of famous wandmaker families in these three countries is inextricably linked to the existence of magic schools."
"Welcome!" The moment they entered, a sweet female voice came.
This was completely different from Ollivander. In Diagon Alley, that small shop filled with wands only had Garrick Ollivander working alone. After entering, you might not even see him, let alone get a welcome greeting.
"Please, come in. Who needs to purchase a wand? I am Lefebvre." The speaker was an old man with white hair and a white beard, wearing a monocle.
The female greeter, with long wavy blonde hair and tight robes, was pouring water for them behind the bar.
"I want to buy a spare wand." Ethan raised his hand.
"Alright, please come this way." In the spacious, bright wand shop, there was a dedicated area where the wandmaker could make preparations before wand selection.
"You're not French, are you? At least not studying at Beauxbatons." The old man sized him up carefully, certain he had never seen Ethan before.
"Mm, I study at Hogwarts."
"Understood." Hearing this, the old man instantly perked up.
Similar to Ollivander's measuring process, there were even a few additional measurements.
The old man's tape measure measured him from top to bottom, taking detailed measurements of his finger length and the distance between his eyes.
"Our Lefebvre family has a wand-making history of over two thousand years, but unlike Ollivander, we don't put a date on our sign that nobody knows is true or not." The old man expressed disdain for Ollivander while measuring.
They say peers are enemies, and judging by the old man's behavior, it was indeed so.
"Are you accustomed to using your right hand?"
"Yes."
"Are you from the Shafiq family?" The old man seemed to suddenly remember something, glancing at Cyril, who was chatting with Albert.
"Yes."
"So, you are the lost child of the Shafiq family? Your family has always used dogwood wands; presumably, you won't be an exception." The old man took down several boxes from the neatly arranged wand shelves nearby.
"These are all dogwood wands, just with different cores and lengths. Try them and see which one suits you best." The boxes were opened one by one, and six wands lay quietly inside.
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