Dumbledore and Tierra had already set foot on the port in Paris by the Seine while "Gildello Lockhart" was still waiting for the Gringotts goblins to count Galleons in the underground vault of Gringotts. .

"Ah, Paris," said Dumbledore, taking a deep breath. "I haven't been here in nearly fifty years."

"Aren't you and Nick Lemay very good friends?" Tiera asked in confusion, "Why haven't you been here for so long?"

"I'm old," Dumbledore said. "He's old too. We're no longer suitable for long-distance teleportation or other overly intense travel methods. We only often communicate through special magic props."

"So you have to die sooner or later, right?" Tiera asked innocently. She wanted to add a few words like Conan, but she saw

Dumbledore's blue veins burst out on Dumbledore's forehead, and Tiera silently swallowed "Na Na Na" back.

"Yes, yes..." Dumbledore also rubbed his head, pressed back the blue veins on his head, and said, "Let's go, the French Ministry of Magic is here to pick us up."

"Hello, Mr. Dumbledore, hello, Mr. Lockhart." Standing in the crowd, a short, bald man with a sharp beard and a thick accent walked over quickly and spread his arms. Greeted, "My name is White Delacour."

"Hello, Mr. Delacour." Dumbledore responded with a smile, but pulled Tiera and stood a little further away, just stretched out his hand and shook White Delacour's hand, "This is just a private visit. , you don't need to dispatch a character like you, right?"

"Mr. Dumbledore, what are you talking about? No amount of welcome ceremony for a wizard like you is an exaggeration." White Delacour said with a smile, "If it wasn't for your deliberate request, stand It should be Mr. Minister here."

"Then please, Mr. Dumbledore." White Delacour said, leaning sideways, leading Dumbledore and Tiera to the pier, where an elegant black classic car was parked—

"Mr. Delacour is an extremely passionate hugger," Dumbledore whispered to Tiera, tilting his head.

After getting into the car, White Delacour sat in the driver's seat as the driver, while Dumbledore and Tierra sat side by side in the back seat.

"Maybe that's why the French Ministry of Magic sent him to greet us." Dumbledore said with some trouble, "but I'm always not used to this kind of hug... To be precise I'm not particularly used to any hugs, but I am I'm sorry to tell him..."

"This is the so-called touch and touch are straight men, cold-eyed are all curvy men." Tiera said.

"What do you mean?" Dumbledore froze for a moment.

"That is, if there is a group of boys fighting there, touching each other's faces, buttocks and ding dong, it is definitely a boy who likes girls." Tiera explained, "But if there is a boy next to each other at this time. If you look on with disgust, then the boy who is on the sidelines absolutely likes men."

"..." Dumbledore opened his mouth, then closed it again, he didn't know what to say--

"So which category do you and Harry belong to?" Dumbledore asked after a while.

"When did I watch with a look of disgust when we were fighting?" Tiera said.

"Oh..." Dumbledore whispered.

After more than half an hour of travel, the entire classic car fell into an awkward silence.

finally--

"We're here." White de la Cour broke the silence by turning around.

"Great." Dumbledore got out of the car first, "I haven't seen my old friend in a long time, thank you Mr. Delacour."

Tiera also got out of the car behind.

"No thanks, Mr. Dumbledore, this is what I should do." White Delacour said with a smile, "Then, Mr. Dumbledore, I'll go back first, so I won't disturb your reminiscence."

"Okay, good luck, Mr. Delacour." Dumbledore waved his hand with a smile, then tugged at Tiera.

"Good luck, Mr. Delacour." Tiera also smiled and waved.

"Thank you, goodbye." White de la Cour responded as he got into the car and walked away.

After the classic car disappeared from sight, Dumbledore pulled Tiera around and walked into an alley—

White Delacour's car was parked beside a wide but sparsely populated sidewalk lined with low, heavy and rather old buildings.

"This is the 18th arrondissement of Paris." Dumbledore said before walking into the alley, then raised his finger and pointed to a quaint church-like building in the distance.

"There is the Basilica of the Sacred Heart, located in the heights of Montmartre." Dumbledore said, "This used to be a small country village full of vineyards, mills and windmills. It is a place of love, color and romance. Nick Lemay settled here in 1710, and when he settled, he was very satisfied with the environment here, but in 1860, it was transformed into a district of Paris."

"Professor Dumbledore, you just said this is District 18?" Tiera asked.

"Yes," Dumbledore said as he walked.

"Does Mr. Nickleme plan to move out of here?" Tiera asked.

"Well... he mentioned it to me once." Dumbledore led Tiera into a deep and dark alley, "But after more than fifty years of dawdling, I still have to leave, Why do you ask?"

"It's nothing." Tiera shrugged and said—

It is estimated that Nick Lemay will not live until that time. Tiera remembers that in a previous life, the 18th and 19th arrondissement of Paris became a gathering place for illegal black immigrants and Muslim immigrants after the implementation of the French refugee introduction plan.

Of course, it doesn't mean that Tiera is racist or has any racist thoughts in it. On the contrary, what he hates most is racists and black people. Tiera is just worried about Nick Lemay——

In the history of world science that Tiera took as an elective in her previous life~lightnovelpub.net~ Western chemistry originated from alchemy. Nick Lemay, an alchemy giant, can be regarded as the ancestor of modern Western chemistry in terms of seniority. ——

This made Tiera, who came from a chemical school as an undergraduate, worried about the safety of her ancestor.

"Ha, here we are." Dumbledore said when Tiera was thinking, and they stopped in front of a strange wooden house——

The wooden house is very low, about the height of a three-story building, and is cramped between two six-story stone buildings, like a child sandwiched between adults.

There was a sign hanging on the door of the wooden house with a peculiar symbol made up of golden threads.

Dumbledore and Tiera simply stopped at the door—

The door to the hut opened automatically.

"Albus!" An old, hoarse but extremely happy voice came from the second floor of the wooden house, "You are finally here! How long have we not seen each other!"

Then Tiera heard a sound similar to that of slippers rubbing against the ground.