Shopping on France's Magical Commercial Street

On the fifth day after arriving at the estate, Baruk had already settled down on the west slope.

The experimental plot of young vines that Dupont allocated to it, which was just a clearing with tilled soil five days ago, is now covered with cobwebs.

The fastest

Silvery-white threads Radiation outwards from the center, connecting the surrounding rows of young vines to the trellis. The structure is clear and the layers are distinct. When the sunlight shines on it, the entire net shimmers.

It wasn't just randomly strung; it was planned and laid out, with each main thread of the spiderweb aligned with the root of a young vine.

Judging from the density and orientation of the netting, it is building an irrigation system, with morning dew flowing along the threads to the nodes and then sliding down the main line.

Every morning, it would follow Regulus out of the main house and then run to the west slope on its own, returning only in the evening, its eight legs covered in mud and occasionally adorned with fragments of tender leaves.

Every time they come back, their butts are twitching, and they're more excited every day than the day before.

Dupont passed by Xipo several times. On the first day, he was worried; on the second day, he was confused; on the third day, he accepted it; and on the fourth day, he stopped going.

Compared to the unattended vines next to them, the young vines that had been cared for by spiders did indeed have larger, darker leaves.

Regulus stood at the window on the second floor of the main house, watching Baruk's dark red figure dart back and forth among the trellises in the distance, and a slight movement appeared at the corner of his mouth.

The pace has been very slow these past few days, so slow that it feels a bit strange.

As for maintaining the Protective Charm, Felix, given his status, had already done what he was supposed to do and followed the proper procedures. Now that the real person had arrived, there was no need to continue pretending.

The repairs were a sham, but the routine maintenance was real. He instructed Felix to continue managing things as before, without intending to personally handle the plastering and painting.

There's nothing to explain to anyone. I just quit because I didn't want to work. I was slacking off, having nothing to do, and going on vacation in France.

It's a nice place here, lots of sunshine, and breakfast has been changed to an English style, with milk at every meal.

Felix had a few French Magic texts on hand, which he flipped through. They were about Protective Charm and manor management, all basic stuff and not very interesting.

But there was one area he had always wanted to explore: Alchemy.

The UK Wizarding World is practically a wasteland when it comes to Alchemy; even the book "Basic Alchemy Theory: From Hermes to Paracelsus" in the Hogwarts Library is just a publicly available document.

The truly systematic teaching of Alchemy took place on the Europe continent, in France.

Beauxbatons has formal Alchemy courses; since we're already here, it would be a waste not to find some proper textbooks to study.

At the breakfast table, Regulus stuffed the last piece of bacon into his mouth and took a sip of his coffee with milk. "Felix, is there Alchemy bookstore in Marseille?"

Felix, who was holding a coffee and reading a manor weekly, looked up when he heard this. "There's one in the old port area, it's been open for decades, over in the Arcade Street. France wizards go there to buy books and materials. Young master, do you want to buy textbooks?"

"A few introductory and advanced books, the Beauxbatons used."

Felix didn't ask why, nodded, finished the last sip of his coffee, and stood up. "I'll lead the way."

Regulus grunted in agreement, went upstairs to change his boots, and Baruk busy on the west slope, saying he didn't need to be taken along and could play by himself.

Apparition to Marseille, landing in a narrow alley in the old port area.

The dock warehouses and old stone walls on both sides have been eroded by sea winds and salt spray for hundreds of years. The walls are mottled, and the cracks in the stones are filled with dried barnacle shells. The air is salty and humid, mixed with a strong smell of diesel fuel.

The world of Muggle ends here.

Felix walked to a rusted iron door on the wall, its original color no longer discernible, and tapped the rivet in the upper right corner twice with his wand.

The rivet turned halfway, and the iron gate silently shrank back into the wall, revealing a stone-paved passage. The passage was short, and there was light at the end.

Passing through the passageway, the view suddenly opens up to Arcade Street.

A rectangular plaza with colonnades on three sides, featuring Mediterranean Sea -style stone columns and semi-circular vaults; the columns are thick and the vaults are wide.

A semi-circular arch spans between two pillars, one after another, forming a row that supports a two-story Corridor. The stones have been tanned honey-colored by the sun over hundreds of years.

Beneath the arcades are rows of shops, their storefronts much wider than those in Diagon Alley. Shelves stretch from inside the shops to the pillars, and some shop owners sit on chairs by their doors, basking in the sun, only slowly greeting customers when they arrive.

The fourth side is open, a small section of the inner harbor with a few masts swaying on the water, seagulls perched on the masts cawing, and the Mediterranean Sea in the distance.

In the middle of the square was an open-air market, with blankets spread on the ground, vendors squatting behind the blankets, and their goods displayed directly in the sunlight.

Some had set up sunshades, striped canvas draped over two wooden poles, billowing and collapsing in the wind; others were too lazy to set them up, leaving people and goods to dry together.

The sun shone directly overhead, making the entire square dazzlingly bright. The air was salty, and the sea breeze blew in from the direction of the harbor, carrying the scent of spices.

The Potions ingredients used by sorcerers in Southern France come from North Africa and the Mediterranean Sea coast: cardamom, saffron, cloves, cinnamon—all crammed into their noses.

There were many people, but it didn't feel crowded. The France strolled at a slower pace than the UK, and no one was in a hurry.

Some people were chatting with the vendors at the stall, and as they talked, they squatted down, and after chatting for a while, they simply sat on the ground.

Someone was leaning against a stone pillar smoking a pipe. The smoke swirled above his head in the shape of small animals. A smoke rabbit was chasing a smoke mouse, and as they ran, they got all tangled up in a mess.

The main language is French, with occasional glimpses of Italy and Arabic, a legacy of the Mediterranean Sea trade network.

Regulus followed Felix, his gaze sweeping from the ores on the stall to the old bookshelves under the pillars, and then from the old bookshelves to the Potions ingredients shop next door.

The overall atmosphere here is relaxed; it's like a spontaneously formed market—orderly but not strict, with rules but not taken too seriously.

Compared to this place, Diagon Alley is a pretty proper commercial street.

Felix led him into a bookstore under the arcade. The wooden signboard was faded by the sun. The storefront didn't look big, but once you pushed the door open, it was very deep inside, and it got darker and darker the further you went in.

The bookshelves stretched from floor to ceiling, with ladders leaning against them. Some of the steps had cats lying on them—yellow, gray, spotted, and fluffy. If someone touched them, they would just change their position and continue sleeping.

The books were all in French, and they were diverse and varied, including Magical Theory, Potions recipes, Transfiguration, and Magizoology.

But there were also quite a few non- Magic items; several bookshelves were crammed with poetry collections and play scripts, with Molière and Racine placed next to a "Provençal Native Plant Bestiary".

On another shelf were several art books with nude figure sketches on their covers, next to a book titled "The Evolution of Gaul Rune in the Fifth Century".

Behind the counter sat a little old man, mostly bald on top, with the rest of his hair neatly combed back. He wore gold-rimmed glasses, and his skin was much whiter than that of people from southern France. Two nasolabial folds at the corners of his mouth stretched down to his chin, making him look gaunt and dry.

Felix walked over and greeted him in French. The old man looked up from his book, took off his glasses and placed them on the counter, and nodded. "Mr. Laval, it's been a long time."

Felix stepped aside to let Regulus pass and said directly, "Beauxbatons ' Alchemy textbooks, from third to seventh year, and a few more advanced ones."

Regulus nodded politely, but only received a reserved look in return from the old man.

Felix frowned, his tone less than polite. "Please hurry."

The old man shrugged, turned and walked deeper into the bookshelf. A few minutes later, he came out carrying a stack of books and placed them on the counter.

The spine of the topmost book has a pale gold alchemical circuit pattern, the lines of which slowly rotate and glow along a fixed trajectory.

<PrinipeFndamenaudeI"Alhimie>, Fundamentals of Alchemy, Beauxbatons Grade 3 Introductory Textbook.

The following books, from fourth grade to seventh grade, have cover colors that gradually darken, from blue to indigo to dark purple and then to pure black.

Regulus opened the book and glanced at the table of contents.

The Magic Power affinity of matter, the drawing and activation of basic alchemical circuits, material identification, and the principles and practices of directional transformation.

The introduction mentions Hermes Trismegistus and the Emerald Tablet, briefly stating that the theoretical foundation of Alchemy can be traced back to the principles recorded in the Emerald Tablet.

I flipped through the later books. The fourth grade covers intermediate circuits and composite transformations, the fifth grade covers the deep Magic Power structure of metals, and the sixth grade begins to involve the theory of interactive transformation between Magic Power and matter.

He closed the seventh-grade book after flipping through two pages. The density and depth of the content suddenly increased. He could understand some of the terms, but he couldn't connect the concepts and needed the foundation from the previous books.

He closed the book, looked at the shop owner, and asked in English, "What about the advanced ones?"

The old man glanced at him again, this time with a look that was not only reserved but also carried a France's opinion of the UK.

When did the UK start paying attention to Alchemy? And at such a young age.

He didn't let his thoughts show on his face; he might look down on others, but that didn't stop him from doing business.

Regulus's lips twitched slightly; he roughly knew what the old man was thinking, but he was too lazy to say anything.

Arrogant France, the real master of Alchemy is Flamel, what does that have to do with you mediocre folks?

A short while later, two more books were placed on the counter.

One book discusses advanced configurations of alchemical circuits, and the other is a treatise on the Magic Power structures of metals. Both are French academic publications. I had never heard of the authors, but the spines of the books bear the Beauxbatons school crest.

Neither of them was cheap. In the Wizarding World, all knowledge has a price. The seven books together would be enough to feed an average wizarding family for half a year.

Regulus took out more than seventy Galleon from his purse and laid them out on the counter.

Geralt may freeload when he goes out, but the young master of the Black family is never short of gold.

The shopkeeper wrapped the book in kraft paper, tied it with Hemp Rope, and handed it to Felix, who took it and carried it in his hand.

Stepping out of the bookstore and back into the sunlight, my eyes were momentarily dazzled.

Passing through the open-air market area, a stall displayed various metal blocks and ores.

Copper plates, tin blocks, silver bars, and several pieces of Magic alloy with iridescent surfaces.

There was also a dark gray ore with a rough surface and fine silver veins visible at the cut. The label said it came from Morocco and had excellent Magic Power Conduction, making it suitable as a base for alchemical circuits.

Next to it were several fingernail-sized pieces of reddish-copper metal, made in Spain, with a French name I didn't recognize.

Next to it was a small jar of grayish-white powder, with a simple diagram of an alchemical circuit on the label, indicating that it was made in Greece.

The market for alchemical materials in UK is virtually nonexistent because there is no demand. Hogwarts doesn't teach Alchemy, and UK wizards don't Alchemy, so the materials naturally don't circulate.

In France, it's a different story. Every year, Beauxbatons graduates a batch of wizards who have studied Alchemy. Once the market is established, the supply chain follows.

Regulus stopped at the stall and bought a few pieces of metal to practice with.

A few steps further on, there was a stall selling Magic spices: Magic versions of lavender, thyme, and Rosemary, all native to Provence, neatly bundled and laid out on a rug.

It looks similar to the regular version, but when you get closer you can feel a faint flow of Magic Power on the leaves.

A few stalls away was a small workshop that did wand maintenance.

The storefront was even smaller than the bookstore we had just visited. A young France wizard sat behind a workbench, wiping a wand with a velvet cloth soaked in a special potion.

Inside, there was a row of samples of various types of wood: rosewood, olive wood, cypress, Mediterranean Sea species, and holly, yew, Willow, Blackthorn commonly used in UK —completely different systems.

The wand core materials are also more diverse than in UK. Veela hair is a common wand core in France, as are Fairy wings, Snidget feathers, and even elytra powder from Magic beetles found deep in the North Africa desert.

In the UK, it's a non-mainstream material, but here it's openly sold. Ollivander has reservations about many of the cores, finding them somewhat unstable, while the France seem to use them quite casually.

But there's nothing wrong with that. The Wizarding World should be diverse and full of different approaches. It would be strange if someone stuck to one path to the bitter end.

After strolling around for about two hours, Regulus and Felix returned the way they came, passing through the narrow Arcade Street and back to the stone wall between the dock warehouses.

Apparition back to the manor.

For the next two days, Regulus stayed in the living room, closing the door to read.

French posed no obstacle for him; it was a compulsory subject in the Black family's education system, essential for the Pureblood families's social and business activities on the Europe continent.

Five textbooks and two monographs were laid out on a long Walnut Wood table, arranged from left to right according to grade level.

He started by flipping through the introductory textbook for third grade.

(And there's more!)