Neither Holy, Nor Roman, Nor an Empire

Two hours really flew by, and the Matagots clearly hadn't had enough fun.

After a few minutes of coaxing, Vincent and Hermione were finally able to return the restaurant to its owner.

There were quite a few onlookers outside, and returning to the French Ministry of Magic from Place Furstenberg would have attracted too much attention.

"Meow—"

Just as the two were racking their brains, the cats indicated that they didn't need to worry; they could return inconspicuously.

Vincent opened the restaurant door with some skepticism, and the reluctant little darlings quickly ran outside, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

A little girl of seven or eight timidly approached him, "Excuse me, why did those cute kittens run away?"

Hermione, who understood a bit of French, answered for him, "Because they all have homes."

She leaned down and gently stroked the girl's little head, "They're full and have had their fun, so the kitties know it's time to go home."

The girl nodded, as if she understood, "Will they come back?"

Hermione looked back at Vincent and smiled, "Of course, next time it'll be your turn to play with them."

Amidst the girl's excitement and the people's curious gazes, she and Vincent left the restaurant and headed into the bustling streets of Paris.

"Where shall we go next?"

"Hmm—the Palace of Versailles? Notre-Dame de Paris? The Champs-Élysées? The Louvre? Or the Eiffel Tower?"

Hermione held Vincent's arm tightly, "We have the whole afternoon, why don't we visit them all?"

"Sounds good."

Their first stop was the Grande Arche, followed by the nearby Louvre.

Like the British Museum, many of the Louvre's collections were plundered through war.

However, compared to the barbaric British, France relied more on trade.

Vincent and Hermione took a quick tour inside, finally stopping in front of the Mona Lisa, the museum's prized possession.

Even through the thick glass, the two could tell that it was just a museum-quality replica.

But that doesn't mean the Louvre is faking it; many precious works of art are generally not displayed to the public.

Vincent looked at the replica in front of him and remembered an amusing anecdote about its creator, Leonardo da Vinci.

The undisguised smile on his face aroused Hermione's curiosity, "What exactly is making you so happy?"

Vincent quickly glanced around before leaning in close to her ear, "Do you remember that da Vinci was once mistaken for a wizard by the Romans?"

Hermione smiled knowingly, "I remember, even real wizards have to admit that he was an absolute genius."

Da Vinci was born in 1452, and his full name was Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci.

His name literally means "Leonardo from Vinci" in Italian, where "da Vinci" refers to his birthplace, the town of Vinci.

He was knowledgeable, versatile, and proficient in almost every field.

Painting, music, architecture, mathematics, geometry, anatomy, physiology, zoology, botany, astronomy, meteorology, geology, geography, physics, optics, mechanics, civil engineering, etc.

It wasn't just proficiency; he even had significant achievements in these fields.

As for why he was mistaken for a wizard, it was because he had spent some time in Rome in his old age.

The Holy Roman Empire at that time was neither holy nor Roman nor an empire; internal divisions caused by the Reformation, the growing power of local political entities, and the emperor didn't even have true central authority.

In such a social environment, the many things that the extremely low-profile da Vinci studied became like magic in the eyes of the Romans.

Using concave mirrors to harness solar energy to boil water?

A mobile rotating bridge?

An armored vehicle with wheels driven by turning a crank?

A three-barreled cannon mounted on a carriage?

Even real wizards couldn't understand it, let alone Romans who had transformed from ignorant hicks into nouveau riche obsessed with elegance and luxury.

Through this anecdote, Vincent and Hermione recalled their experiences over the past week.

Although they ultimately succeeded in reaching cooperation, the heads of some magical governments were just like the Romans of that time.

Magical Base Station signals spread disease?

Television and computers made with Alchemy lower intelligence?

Magical projections produce Muggle electromagnetic radiation?

Pretending to understand while spouting nonsense; if it hadn't been for Hermione's strong persuasion, Vincent would have blacklisted them all long ago.

Fortunately, the "Romans" were only a minority, and after patient explanations, they stopped uttering anti-intellectual remarks.

The two sighed slightly, took another lap around the Louvre, and then came to the Champs-Élysées.

The streets here are lined with trees, the sidewalks are very wide, and the buildings are not very tall.

Because of the elegant Haussmann architecture, it is called the "Élysées."

The Champs-Élysées is not only the premier avenue of France, but also a globally renowned commercial street.

Clothing stores, perfume shops, watch shops, and luxury car showrooms were countless, and Vincent even found a small Bugatti showroom.

A sapphire blue Bugatti EB110SS rested quietly on a burgundy display platform, next to a completely black EB112 four-door coupe.

In a few months, the display cars inside would be replaced with the legendary Bugatti Veyron.

Compared to this new speed myth, Ferrari and McLaren could only eat its dust.

In a good mood, Vincent and Hermione decided to continue browsing.

Like Milan, the Champs-Élysées was full of appeal for women.

Hermione bought a lot of cosmetics, and as she dragged Vincent towards the "LV" flagship store, a melodious but slightly awkward voice stopped them.

"Wayne? Are you Vincent Wayne?"

Vincent turned around in confusion and saw a girl whose face was mostly hidden by a baseball cap.

She was wearing a casual and comfortable yellow dress, and she was holding the hand of a very cute little girl.

Strangely, the little girl's bright silver eyes were fixed on Vincent, as if she knew him.

Vincent had no impression of her at all. He looked at the girl and asked, "Excuse me, who are you?"

The girl took off her baseball cap, revealing a stunningly beautiful face.

The little girl's appearance was somewhat similar to hers, and their eyes and waist-length hair were both a very rare silver color.

Hermione subconsciously tightened her grip on Vincent's arm, watching them approach warily.

"Miss Delacour?" Vincent gave Hermione a reassuring look.

"To run into you here of all places, France really is small."

The Delacour sisters chuckled softly at the same time.

The older sister was already attractive enough to draw the attention of men after taking off her baseball cap, but this smile directly stunned them in place.

Fleur introduced her younger sister to him, "Wayne, this is my younger sister, Gabrielle."

Vincent also introduced Hermione to her, "Miss Delacour, this is Hermione Granger, my girlfriend."

After a few simple words, all four of them clearly felt that the atmosphere around them was not quite right.

Although half-Veelas cannot transform into harpies like pure-blood Veelas, their inherited beauty and the ability to make men infatuated, diluted and weakened from their mothers, still give them an innate charm that male wizards cannot resist.

Fleur and Gabrielle both had a quarter Veela blood, and if they stayed any longer, the male Muggles on the street would definitely become reckless and impulsive.