William Stark slowly woke up.
Blinding sunlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains, scattering across the room.
He raised a hand to shield his eyes, groggily trying to piece together who he was, where he was, and what he was doing...
Lifting his head, William looked around.
He was in a luxurious Renaissance-style bedroom. The furniture resembled something from the Louis XVI era, with intricately decorated walls and a grand four-poster mahogany bed.
Hanging on one of the bedposts was an embroidered bathrobe with the words Hôtel Ritz Paris.
It finally clicked, he was vacationing in Paris. But he had stayed up far too late the previous night, leaving his brain feeling sluggish and unresponsive.
A persistent doorbell chime reached his ears. That relentless ringing was what had woken him up.
Whoever was outside pressed the button several times, finally stopping. Just as William thought they might leave, the door lock emitted a click and began to turn.
He glanced at the bedside table. The room key and access card were both there.
Now wasn't the time to ponder how the door was unlocked. He quickly buried himself under the blanket, wrapping it tightly around himself.
The door swung open, and a girl burst in.
Hermione stood in the doorway, wearing a blue short-sleeved shirt and denim shorts. Her normally bushy brown hair was tied back into a simple ponytail.
Seeing the boy on the bed, she exclaimed in disbelief, "William! I've been knocking on your door forever. You were clearly awake, why didn't you open the door?!"
"I just woke up because of you."
"Woke up? You're late! We agreed to go swimming at the pool on the fourth floor this morning…"
"We can go now."
"Annie and I have already done several laps!" Hermione huffed. "Who'd still want to go with you?"
"Hmm?" William raised his head, looking puzzled. "Didn't you say last night that you couldn't swim? You even asked me to teach you… And floundering around in the shallow end hardly counts as swimming a lap."
"Mind your own business!" Hermione shot him a glare, squinting her eyes in irritation, a dangerous glint appearing in them.
"Hurry up and get up! Leanna sent me to drag you out. After breakfast, we have a packed day with several places to visit."
She strode over to the window and yanked the curtains open.
The strong sunlight made William squint. He realized the sun outside was already blazing.
"By the way, how did you get in here, Hermione?" William asked.
"Oh, because of my little pet, Wally," Hermione replied, tilting her head toward her left shoulder. Perched there was a Bowtruckle.
The shy creature waved a small hand at William before performing a swift tumble and disappearing into Hermione's pocket.
William had forgotten about that. Bowtruckles were excellent at picking locks, it was, after all, the reason he'd gifted Wally to Hermione in the first place.
Hermione walked over to the wardrobe, pulling it open. She grabbed a few pieces of clothing, held them up to William for an imaginary fitting, then tossed a carefully chosen outfit onto the bed.
"Get up already!" she urged softly. "We're running out of time."
William remained lying on the bed.
"What's wrong? Get up!" Hermione planted her hands on her hips, glaring down at him.
"Can you step out for a moment?" William asked weakly.
"Why?!"
"Because… I'm not wearing anything."
"Ugh!" Hermione's cheeks turned slightly pink. "You're such a pervert!"
…
…
After freshening up and changing into the outfit Hermione had chosen, William headed to the hotel restaurant alone.
Both families were leisurely enjoying breakfast.
Leanna and Emily were animatedly discussing shopping plans. Being in Paris, the fashion capital of the world, they were determined to splurge on clothes and jewelry.
Roy and Iris, meanwhile, were engrossed in a heated conversation about the Quidditch World Cup, as mentioned in the Daily Prophet.
Britain hadn't hosted the World Cup in thirty years, and next year's tournament would be held in Great Britain.
The two friends were full of grand opinions, gesturing enthusiastically. Men, after all, were always like this when it came to sports.
Unfortunately, reality painted a different picture. The English Quidditch team, much like the national football team, was a perennial disappointment.
In terms of underperforming, they never failed to live up to expectations.
Hermione sat quietly, sipping milk through a straw while poring over a book titled An Introduction to Ancient Runes.
She had started preparing for this course as early as her second year, despite it being one of the most challenging subjects at Hogwarts.
Her progress was slow, and the frustration showed on her face.
Normally, she would have asked William for help with any parts she didn't understand. But this morning, she seemed reluctant to talk to him, maintaining a frosty silence.
Annie, wearing a slightly crooked hat, peeked around curiously, her gossipy nature fully engaged as she tried to probe into every little detail.
So young yet so sharp, what a waste she wasn't pursuing a career as a tabloid journalist.
After breakfast, the group left the Ritz Hotel.
The Hôtel Ritz Paris, which began operations in 1898, is located in the heart of Place Vendôme and is one of the most famous and luxurious hotels in the world.
What most people don't know is that it was originally a private residence, yes, it had once been Nicolas Flamel's home.
Flamel's name carried such weight that he usually traveled incognito and used aliases for his work.
In a way, Flamel was essentially the biggest real estate tycoon in France, owning much of the land he had acquired in his early years.
Back during the Battle of Paris, when Grindelwald had tried to destroy the city, Flamel's urgency wasn't just about protecting his homeland or saving lives.
There was another reason, Paris housed much of his real estate portfolio.
Grindelwald's actions were essentially a home invasion against Flamel! If he had any guts, he should have gone after Hogwarts instead of bullying an old man.
Since the Ritz was once Flamel's property, William and his companions were staying there completely free of charge.
The group piled into a rented Chevrolet, with Hermione's father, Iris, behind the wheel.
The car was rented, as it wasn't feasible to drive from England to France. The Channel Tunnel wouldn't officially open until May of next year.
Driving in France was simple enough, but aside from a British driver's license, they also needed an International Driving Permit (IDP).
The city streets twisted and turned, and soon the Eiffel Tower's silhouette began to appear in the distance.
As a landmark of France, visiting the Eiffel Tower was naturally on their itinerary.
The tower was divided into three levels, but instead of climbing the stairs, the group took the elevator straight to the second level.
From there, they could already enjoy a panoramic view of Paris.
To reach the third level, they needed to take the stairs. Halfway up, little Annie began to complain that she couldn't walk any farther and demanded William carry her.
With the tower's height and its winding staircase, William's relatively small frame was ill-suited for the task, no matter how capable he was.
Quietly, he took out his wand and tapped Annie, then lifted her onto his back and climbed steadily upward.
Iris, watching from behind, was amazed. This boy's got some strength!
He scrutinized William with a critical eye, growing increasingly satisfied the longer he looked.
"Are you using magic?" Hermione finally broke her silence and spoke to William.
She leaned close to him, concern etched on her face, and whispered, "If you're using a Levitation Charm, won't you get a warning letter?"
She was worried that the Ministry of Magic might arrest him.
"Nope," William replied with a smile, lowering his voice. "I'm using a wand crafted by Cedric."
Underage wizards weren't allowed to use magic outside of school, as they were tracked by the Ministry using the Trace. However, that rule only applied within the jurisdiction of the British Ministry of Magic.
William was in France now, there was no way the British Ministry could enforce its rules across borders!
Even if the French Aurors wanted to cooperate, William certainly wouldn't.
For young witches and wizards like William and Hermione traveling to France, they would typically write to the French Ministry's Wand Permit Office in advance to apply for permission. Upon arriving, they'd visit the Ministry to confirm their wand registration.
The Wand Permit Office would place a detection spell on registered wands. If William used a registered wand to cast magic, it would be detected.
But they never imagined a young wizard might have a second wand, or the ability to perform wandless magic.
Thus, using Cedric's wand meant William wouldn't trigger any alarms.
"Then I can use magic too!" Hermione said excitedly.
"Exactly. You could even come to my room tonight to continue our dueling practice," William said with a sly wink.
Hermione glanced nervously at Iris and Emily, then grinned slightly and whispered, "We'll see! I still haven't forgiven you for skipping out on me this morning."
Suddenly, her expression froze, replaced by fear.
She grabbed William's hand, pointed to the sky, and exclaimed, "William, it's a warning letter…"
William looked up and saw an owl flying toward him. It dropped a letter before soaring away.
His heart sank. Could the French Ministry's detection really be this sophisticated?
Was this karma for all his casual criticisms of French inefficiency?
He opened the letter and read it. A strange expression crossed his face.
"What does it say?" Hermione asked anxiously, snatching the letter from his hands.
A moment later, her face mirrored his, equally perplexed.
The two exchanged a glance.
"Newt Scamander… was arrested by the French Ministry of Magic?!"