France, Paris.
Canopus and Dumbledore stepped off the plane, a flight attendant supporting the white-haired, white-bearded old Dumbledore.
"Gentlemen, I'll see you off here."
The flight attendant bade them a polite farewell. Canopus smiled and said goodbye as well, while Dumbledore nodded.
"Headmaster, shall we keep up the act all the way through? Want me to fetch you a wheelchair?" Canopus teased.
"No, I think my good grandson would be happy to carry me on his back," Dumbledore retorted.
The two walked out of the airport, and Canopus hailed a taxi.
"Where would you like to go?" the driver asked in French.
Dumbledore immediately gave him an address in French, and the taxi swiftly carried the old man and the young man away.
In an inconspicuous corner, someone in a long trench coat summoned an owl and handed it a letter.
Canopus and Dumbledore soon arrived before a dry fountain. Dumbledore was the first to step over the railing.
"Come on. We need to register at the French Ministry of Magic." Dumbledore gestured for Canopus to follow.
Canopus stepped into the fountain as well. It transformed into an enclosed elevator and carried them underground.
The French Ministry of Magic unfolded before them. A dome of steel and glass rose overhead, its enchanted glass reflecting the sky.
A large group of people in long trench coats was waiting for them.
"Oh, I really don't want to see this," Dumbledore muttered. Yet he smiled as he embraced the middle-aged man approaching them.
"Dumbledore, long time no see. Why didn't you come through the Floo Network?" the man greeted him.
"It has been a while, Dominique. I wanted to experience the charm of France again," Dumbledore lied casually. In truth, he had wanted to try Muggle transportation, something wizards generally could not make