The Wind and the Wings of Hogwarts

They didn't talk about it much, and from the next day onwards, they began their studies in Beauxbatons.

Roger quickly changed his target as well.

His decisive abandonment surprised even Scott.

“I admit, Miss Delacour is the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, but she’s not a good choice for romance,” Roger said. “I just want to enjoy romance, not be unhappy because of it, and besides, there are plenty of beautiful girls in Beauxbatons…”

A few days later, they experienced all the courses that Hogwarts also offered.

However, most Hogwarts students did not adapt very well.

The professors at Beauxbatons were quite competent, but language was the first hurdle Scott and his team needed to overcome.

Beauxbatons is taught in French.

Although Beauxbatons thoughtfully provided alchemical items for the foreign students auditing the class, these items were not omnipotent.

Or rather, alchemical items can only translate some everyday language and common written terms.

Many academic disciplines use specialized terms and jargon that can cause translators to malfunction.

Scott, who also didn't speak French, approached Lucio and asked him to optimize his translator.

"Did you help make this too?"

Scott placed a headphone-shaped simultaneous translation device into Lucio's hand.

“You must expand its vocabulary, otherwise it is not suitable for listening to lectures at all.”

“Oh, you’re wrong, Scott.” Lucio picked up the earpiece with two fingers. “This isn’t from the Roselle Alchemy Classroom. Look, there’s a [G] here. Those guys from the Girard Alchemy Classroom made it.”

Scott chuckled dismissively. "Oh, it doesn't matter. Whether it's Girard or Russell, it's all the same. They both represent Beauxbatons."

He patted Lucio on the shoulder.

"Anyway, for the sake of Beauxbatons' reputation, you're in charge of making it more usable for me."

“I must emphasize that Rosell and Girard are not the same.” Lucio’s expression was somewhat grim.

"I said I don't care, and nobody else cares either."

Scott shrugged.

"To me they are all Beauxbatons, just as you would view the different houses at Hogwarts."

He then emphasized, "In short, many people are now complaining about this thing, and I think Durmstrang's students are no exception."

Lucio frowned. "It's all those guys in Girard's classroom's fault!"

Scott said, "It's rare for Beauxbatons to be so generous as to let us audit their classes, and Mrs. Maxim certainly wanted to do her best, didn't she?"

“Alright,” Lucio reluctantly agreed.

“Don’t make that face.” Scott patted him on the shoulder again. “You should do this happily.”

Lucio squinted. "Huh? Am I an idiot?"

Scott lowered his voice, "Doesn't this just prove that you Rosell are much better than Girard? By resolving this matter proactively, Mrs. Maxim will praise you, and there might even be a reward."

“I’ll do it right away,” Lucio said immediately.

“Of course, this isn’t about rewards; we don’t care about rewards. Nor is it about proving we’re stronger than Girard, because everyone in Beauxbatons knows that.” He emphasized, “It’s all about Beauxbatons’ reputation!”

Scott gave him a thumbs up.

Watching Lucio leave in a hurry, Scott gave his classmates an "OK" sign.

Everyone praised him.

"Well done."

"Great, hopefully they can get it sorted out as soon as possible."

"If this continues, I'm going to lose confidence in attending classes."

"A champion of Hogwarts!" A girl in a Beauxbatons uniform ran up at that moment. "Mr. Trollope!"

“I’m here.” Scott turned around.

“Mr. Trollope,” the girl said, slightly out of breath.

"Excuse me, is there anything I can help you with?" Scott asked.

“Um…” The girl looked up at him, blushing, and said, “Madame Maxim asked me to inform you that you must go to the classroom on the right side of the third floor to test your wands. All the warriors must go.”

“I see, thank you for letting me know,” Scott said politely.

"No, you're welcome."

The girl blushed and turned to run away.

Scott also separated from the others and went up to the third floor alone.

From afar, he spotted Dumbledore.

"Here, Scott."

Dumbledore beckoned to him.

Scott quickly walked over.

"Professor Dumbledore."

“Come in,” Dumbledore gestured for him to enter, “They need to examine your wand…”

"Yes."

Mr. Jolly poked his head out from inside the door.

"We need to check if your wands are fully functional and in good working order, because wands will be your most important equipment in future competitions."

He gestured, and Scott and Dumbledore walked into the classroom together.

The other two warriors are already here.

Besides the members of the judging panel, there was also a tall, thin male wizard in the classroom.

He was dressed very neatly from head to toe, but he looked a little awkward.

Scott took a closer look and then noticed something amiss.

If Mr. Lefebvre's attire is acceptable to most people, then this gentleman must have a severe case of obsessive-compulsive disorder.

Because everything about him is symmetrical—

The wizard's hat was placed squarely on his head, perfectly balanced, with the same white feathers adorning both sides.

She wore a crisp, almost wrinkle-free plain robe, with identical brooches pinned to both sides of the lapel.

Both hands, resting on her waist, wore the same ring on their ring fingers.

The most telling sign of this man's obsessive-compulsive disorder is the mole at the corner of his eye. He has a black mole of the same size at the corner of both eyes, and the position of the mole is absolutely symmetrical.

Scott guessed that one of them must have been painted on.

If he could measure it with a ruler, Scott would be certain that the two mustaches on this gentleman's lips were exactly the same length.

“This is Mr. Mauriac,” Jolly introduced, pointing to “Mr. Symmetry.” “He is the most famous wand maker in France, and most of the wands of French wizards are made by his hands.”

Chapter 462 Roselle's Advanced Alchemy Classroom

"I am François Wallin Mauriac."

Mr. Mauriac gave a graceful bow.

"Now, I'm going to examine your wands. Who shall I begin?"

He turned around nimbly, a cheerful smile on his face.

“Oh, Miss Delacour, may you begin?”

“Of course, Mr. Moriac.” Fleur smiled slightly, took out her wand, and handed it to him with both hands. “Please.”

"Oh!"

Moriac stretched out his hands and took the wand with his unusually long and slender fingers.

“I remember, this is my work. You commissioned me to make it about seven years ago, that’s right.”

He gently stroked the shaft of the wand with his fingers.

"It is 24.13 centimeters long, made of maple wood, and contains a Veela hair."

“Yes,” said Hibiscus, “it’s my grandmother’s hair.”

“That’s right.” Mr. Moriac was somewhat excited. “A magical combination of materials, I’ve never tried anything like it before, but it suits you perfectly, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, I like it very much,” Furong said.

“It is my honor to have your satisfaction, Miss Delacour.”

Mr. Moriarty waved his wand gently, and many pink and gold sparks shot out from it.

Then he whispered, "The orchids are in full bloom!"

A bouquet of flowers blooms on the head of the magic wand.

"Check complete, no problems." He shook his wand, making the flowers disappear, then handed the wand to Fleur with both hands. "You've taken very good care of it."

Hibiscus smiled sweetly, took the wand with both hands, and then gracefully returned to sit down next to Mrs. Maxim.

"Next..."

Mr. Moriac raised both hands, turned around lightly again, and looked at Krum.

"Oh, come on, let me see your wand, boy."

Viktor Krum stood up, his round shoulders drooping, and with his toes pointing outwards, he took a few listless steps and handed his wand to Mr. Moriac.

“Oh! Boy!” Mr. Moriac looked at Krum as if he were a monster. “I will not accept anything from anyone who hands me anything with one hand!”

“My name is Viktor Krum.”

Krum frowned deeply, seemingly disliking being called a "boy".

But he still turned his wand around and extended his other hand at the same time.