Chapter 226: The Woof Team Wants To Shine
The rising sun, thick fog enveloping.
Hermione stood by the window holding milk, taking small sips while observing the street outside.
Not far from the hotel was the Louvre Museum, Paris’s most popular tourist area. The impact of the thick fog was visible to the naked eye; yesterday morning it had been bustling with endless traffic, but today it was deserted and quiet. There were no taxis below, only scattered pedestrians, their figures faintly visible in the thick fog.
Only sightseeing vehicles moved slowly.
Behind her, Bastien had her mouth stuffed full of bread, barely chewing it, softening it with milk before swallowing it down: “Bread with honey, bread with jam, fried egg rolled with bacon…”
Her appetite was astonishing, comparable to an adult’s.
Bastien had already demonstrated her appetite last night. The takeout steaks, bread, and desserts were enough to fill several people, but the little girl ate it all by herself without much change in her belly, so the Granger family wasn’t too surprised by this breakfast display.
Mrs. Granger was taking care of Bastien, trying to get her to eat slower. Mr. Granger stood by, flipping through today’s itinerary:
“The hotel manager said the thick fog has caused extremely low visibility. Paris has implemented traffic control. The subway is still running normally, but it’s crowded with passengers. He doesn’t recommend we go out.”
“Traffic control…”
Mrs. Granger thought for a moment and made up her mind. “Then let’s go visit the Louvre Museum. There aren’t many tourists today anyway, and it’s not far to walk.”
“I have no objection.”
“I agree.”
“Mm…”
The milk from the cup poured into her stomach, and Bastien let out a burp.
The group began packing their things to head out. Hermione also prepared suitable clothes for Bastien. While the girl was quietly digesting, she measured her height and waist, then cast Transfiguration to adjust the size of her own pinafore dress, completing a fitted children’s summer outfit.
Bastien really liked this pinafore dress; it had the same scent as Hermione’s.
They asked the hotel front desk for a map, and the three walked along the street to the Louvre Museum, entering the glass pyramid half an hour later.
“Phew…”
Hermione blew out a breath. The outdoor thick fog still hadn’t cleared, but visibility in the museum’s exhibition hall was much clearer.
The open-air Napoleon Square and Carousel Garden were shrouded in thick fog, with almost no scenery visible. In front were the stairs of the South Wing Denon Wing, built in white marble in Baroque style, with various Renaissance paintings hanging on the walls, surrounded by low glass railings.
The Granger couple were dentists without much expertise in art; they just thought the paintings were nice and couldn’t articulate much appreciation theory. They simply paused to admire them and read the nearby explanations.
Hermione’s head didn’t have much art gene either; she even found it boring.
Hogwarts Castle corridors were full of hanging paintings everywhere, some only decades old, others centuries, magically preserved portraits still looking freshly painted, with clear outlines and vibrant colors. The people inside could move and talk, and occasionally visit other picture frames.
By comparison, the paintings here seemed too ordinary.
And the little girl Bastien understood them even less, sticking close to Hermione, occasionally pausing for a few seconds when she saw dishes or cakes in the paintings.
After half an hour of art, they arrived at the Egypt exhibition hall.
The Egypt area’s space was large. The antiques and artifacts here were all strictly protected: golden masks, golden scepters, and various gold accessories that dazzled the eyes, plus some bizarre artifacts like coffins engraved with runes, mummy wrappings removed from bodies, and pottery pots storing pharaoh organs.
The Granger family looked on with great interest, chatting idly about the medical standards of Egyptian pharaohs and discussing whether surgery conditions existed at the time.
“Nose cutting, ear cutting, tongue pulling—these were punishment methods, not carried out with the intent of medical treatment to save lives.”
“Last century’s prefrontal lobotomy was for treatment. Do you think that paradigm counts as surgery?”
“…” Hermione shook her head.
Medical families were like this, a bit eccentric.
Yet ancient Egypt really did have surgery.
Horenhab was the last pharaoh of the Eighteenth Dynasty in the New Kingdom period of ancient Egypt. During his reign, he enacted the harshest laws in ancient Egypt, setting a series of cruel punishments for soldiers and slaves, including whipping, nose cutting, ear cutting, eye gouging, etc. Prisoners survived many years after punishment, which strictly speaking could be considered surgery.
“What is that person doing with the hook? Why is the person opposite tied to the shelf?” Bastien tugged at Hermione’s sleeve.
“Cutting off the nose. That soldier stole the pharaoh’s fruit, so the pharaoh ordered his subordinate to cut off his nose as punishment.” Hermione had read the nearby explanation.
“Won’t cutting off the nose kill him? When the wound turns smelly and black and oozes yellow mucus, he’ll die.”
“It’s not that serious. Egyptian doctors sterilized the tools and applied crushed herbs to the wound. Except for a few unlucky criminals who died from infection, the other prisoners lived a long time.”
“Sounds like the pharaoh was a good person.” The little girl said softly.
In the wall painting, the pharaoh sat solemnly on a golden throne, wearing a golden mask with only deep eyes exposed, flanked by expressionless guards. Below the steps were the executing high priest and prisoner; a sharpened black curved hook was about to cut off that nose, with prepared herbs in the pottery basin on the floor.
“Bastien, Horenhab was no good person. Nose cutting was extremely cruel; even if slaves survived, they’d live in humiliation and pain for life. Those harsh laws were to turn people into slaves, making them obey authority without thoughts of rebellion.”
Hermione explained in a low voice, “But everyone is equal; no one is born to be anyone else’s slave.”
Bastien tilted her head, her deep blue eyes showing a strange gaze.
……
The sheepdog trotted briskly through the thick fog, fur and whiskers dripping with mist, soaked through. It passed through the garden, leaped onto the marble steps, squeezed through the exhibition hall’s glass door. Only when the door closed, blocking the fog, did the sheepdog stop and shake itself vigorously.
“Splash…”
Water droplets scattered in a circle on the dry floor, even splashing onto its little owner walking it.
The sheepdog widened its eyes, realizing its mistake, and hurriedly used its front paws to wipe its little owner, even trying to lick it clean with its tongue until pushed away by a small hand. It then lifted its head, squeezing out a smile at its little owner.
The little owner was a girl, only 6 years old, with waist-length silver hair and sparkling green eyes. She grinned brightly, patted the sheepdog’s head; her eyelashes fluttered, angelically cute.
“Good doggy, don’t let your second tail show.” The little girl pulled out her own small hair tie and bound the sheepdog’s two tails like pigtails.
This sheepdog originally had two tails, forked like a tail-dog to both sides. Once tied with the small hair tie, the glossy fur lay flat together, impossible to notice without close inspection.
Tail-dog, a special magical creature bred by wizards: extremely loyal to wizards but ferocious to Muggles, capable of eating almost all meats.
If Professor Kettleburn saw the tail-dog being so gentle and affectionate, even if he threw his own bone to the puppy as a teething toy, he’d be delighted.
“Gabrielle, is the scent Caramel smelled here?”
“Mm-hmm!”
The little girl named Gabrielle looked at her parents and sister, eyes sparkling. “Caramel’s nose is amazing; thick fog can’t fool it.”
