Chapter 238: Paris Epilogue
It was actually a basilisk replicated to real proportions, with the basilisk’s scales shimmering in eerie green. The Delacour family wouldn’t be too surprised to see it appear in the park in the form of a train, but their veela bloodline had a strong sensitivity to such creatures. Sensing the real basilisk aura on this train gave them a chilling feeling.
But they couldn’t tear their eyes away. All the wizards present were stunned by this basilisk train, feeling as if it were a real basilisk writhing and crawling, opening its eyes symbolizing death, and spewing a foul wind from its gaping maw.
The basilisk train’s doors at the neck area were open, its steel-textured scales gleaming coldly. The cabin inside the basilisk’s body was very clean, and the ticket seller’s guiding calls dispelled the sense of fear.
The Delacour family boarded the basilisk train with half-believing doubt, touring the park with dazed expressions.
“I almost thought it was a real basilisk; my legs went weak from fear…” a wizard whispered.
Fleur temporarily forgot about the potions candy from earlier, her attention focused on the basilisk’s internal structure. Sitting in her seat, she stared blankly at the scales, feeling as if she had become the protagonist from those storybooks, riding a dangerous magical creature to embark on an adventure.
Like a warrior!
Wizards and Muggles were still digesting the shock brought by this basilisk train, as it traveled between stations along the route. Fairy tale story standees were placed at the theater entrance, the restaurant counter displayed candies in various odd shapes, and mannequins in the clothing store shop window wore gorgeous long dresses.
Gabrielle pressed against the window looking at the clothing store, her eyes sparkling.
Mr. Delacour momentarily didn’t know where to start touring, his eyes darting around. Since his wife and daughters were women, shopping at the clothing store to try on clothes wouldn’t be wrong.
The family of four got off at the clothing store entrance and walked in, discovering the store had few customers. They guessed that wizarding families weren’t familiar with Muggle fairy tales and hadn’t tried these clothes yet.
No one in the Delacour family was familiar either. Just as they were about to leave and check out the basilisk train again, they saw the Muggle family they had just met enter the store. From their experience at the candy store, that Muggle girl seemed to see Gabrielle as a friend, no longer shy and awkward, pulling Gabrielle to try on clothes.
Gabrielle was also full of enthusiasm for these gorgeous dresses.
The Muggle couple was very familiar with trying on clothes, spinning Gabrielle around and selecting several outfits. They seemed especially enthusiastic toward the delicate and cute Gabrielle, like playing a doll dress-up game.
The first time she emerged from the fitting room, she was Snow White, soon transforming into Cinderella from 《Cinderella》 wearing crystal shoes, then Aurora princess from 《Sleeping Beauty》, Ariel from 《The Little Mermaid》, Belle from 《Beauty and the Beast》, Jasmine princess from 《Aladdin》… and finally choosing the original Snow White outfit.
A bright golden-yellow ankle-length dress, with a form-fitting velvet-textured top, light blue vertical stripes on the front, signature puff sleeves on the shoulders and arms adorned with red droplet-shaped stripes.
The Muggle girl explained in a soft voice: “These are the colors of blood and the red apple.”
Gabrielle stood in front of the fitting mirror, her eyes dancing with deer-like joy. The innate love of beauty in a girl’s nature was budding; she smugly lifted her skirt hem and twirled, unaccustomed to such a dress and shoes, her steps slightly awkward, her tense little face revealing cuteness.
Fleur creatively picked a blue-and-white country dress, the one Belle wore as a country girl in Beauty and the Beast. She had worn many gowns before, and even Beauxbatons’ sapphire blue uniform became elegant and poised on her. Changing into this outfit, she tied her silver hair into a low ponytail with a blue ribbon bow.
It had a everyday feel while still being eye-catching.
Standing before the mirror facing herself, it was the most youthful and radiant age for a girl, with moisturized skin and shining eyes.
Mr. Delacour and his wife exchanged a glance, suddenly feeling it was all worth it. Their romantic couple dates might be hard to come by now, but the world of four was equally warm, and they were willing.
“You go pick one too.” Mr. Delacour was eager to try.
“Heh…” Apolline sneered twice, giving him a cold look.
The girls went to watch the stage play in such dresses. The stage happened to be performing the Snow White story, with the clichéd plot: Snow White envied by the queen, stumbling into the dwarfs’ home while fleeing, later poisoned by the witch, awakened by the prince, then the clichéd triumphant return of the royals.
Unlike previous stage plays focused on the princess and prince, this theater seemed to emphasize magic.
The magic mirror was a real magic mirror, with the devilish figure faintly visible, a shrill and piercing voice inciting the queen against the princess—clearly an evil dark wizard.
The seven dwarfs were sprites, not house-elves, but sprites who pursued freedom and settled in the forest, working diligently, sheltering the fleeing princess, and crucially, they could sing.
When the witch cast spells, she chanted incantations and waved her wand. To Muggles, it was just enriching details, but to wizards, they were all real spells.
There was also the fresh red and vibrant poisoned apple, plump and round, with an alluring fruity scent—exquisitely beautiful.
These stage props, set designs, and lighting effects were unbelievably realistic, leaving the children staring blankly.
Mr. Delacour couldn’t tell if this was a stage play for wizard audiences or Muggle ones, but after several hours of play, he had learned several classic Muggle fairy tales, all quite interesting.
Nightfall gradually descended.
Leaving the park, Mr. Delacour held his wife’s hand walking behind, his sparse hair swaying in the wind, chuckling. Ahead, Gabrielle chattered to Fleur about the fairy tale stage play.
No little girl dislikes princess stories.
The originally warm and pleasant atmosphere rapidly dissipated upon seeing the projection mirror promotional poster.
Mr. Delacour quickened his pace, pretending to urge them along, trying to get the illiterate Gabrielle away quickly, but she had already recognized the images on the poster.
A Rocher family employee patiently introduced nearby: “Now buying a projection mirror comes with a promotion, including moving picture memories of all stage plays—you can watch the princesses at home.”
Mr. Delacour looked at the price on the poster, then at Gabrielle’s sparkling eyes, feeling as if a chunk had been taken from the Delacour family vault.
……
Late July, after a light rain, Paris cooled slightly.
Traces of clouds above Père Lachaise Cemetery scattered by the wind.
The post-rain air was fresh and humid, with the scent of grass mixed with faint earthy smell—not unpleasant, but rather refreshing. Tourists on the grassland walked slowly, some sitting directly on the grass, letting water droplets wet their clothes, while pet cats and dogs excitedly ran back and forth.
Two young wizards passed through the circular arch into the catacombs, walking along the descending ring corridor.
One looked around with eyes full of curiosity, the other calm—not their first time here.
The ring corridor built of gray-brown rock, old and mottled walls with peeling surfaces, slightly stuffy air, stone coffins sealed for centuries, sunken burials—this was the Lestrange family mausoleum.
After walking about half an hour, they smoothly reached the underground circular hall. It was here that Grindelwald once organized gatherings, attempting to ignite Fiendfyre to burn Paris.
Melvin walked up the gradually undulating steps, trying to find traces left by Grindelwald and the Cabal, but found none. After decades of erosion, plus anonymous wizards’ regular maintenance, the Fiendfyre marks had faded.
As the last scenic spot to visit before leaving Paris, Melvin wasn’t in a hurry to leave. He found a platform to sit and began flipping through the newspaper Kristin had brought.
Kristin had plenty of patience, sitting beside Melvin, carefully examining the catacombs, as if recalling Aunt Vida’s stories, making almost no sound.
「Basilisk! Basilisk! Basilisk! Rocher family’s money-making scheme!」
「Suspected Secrecy Law violation: Magic Park open to Muggles」
「Official-business collusion: Ministry of Magic high-ups yet to comment」
「Magical mirrors: Projection mirror sales hot, out-of-town wizards buying at high prices」
Almost all reports were about projection mirrors and the Magic Park.
For projection mirrors, with precedents from Britain and Romania, reporters complained about the high price but had few objections; French wizards easily accepted this novelty.
For the Magic Park, French wizard reporter Rita was more restrained than insect-transforming Animagi, and no one had dug up the three-party cooperation behind the Magic Park.
Some reporters linked the projection mirrors, basilisks, and such to a certain Magic Mirror Club founder. The Muggle-friendly business approach further confirmed it—the Magic Park was inseparable from the Professor of Muggle Studies.
The combined revenue from the two businesses exceeded ten million. Whether the changes from projection mirrors or the hinted prospects of the Magic Park, many wizards were paying attention to Melvin, so invitations piled up in just half a month.
This was not just change in the French wizarding world, but also a loosening of the Secrecy Law.
“The Magic Park’s business is on track,” Melvin sighed, closing the newspaper. “In half a month, it welcomed 200,000 tourists, mostly Muggles but also 70-80,000 wizards. Ticket revenue share alone is millions; I had to open an underground vault at Gringotts in Paris.”
“The Rocher family’s investment is expected to be recouped by November this year, and Claire has been commended by the board—likely a promotion and raise by year’s end.”
Melvin smiled: “This is just the opening; news needs time to spread. By All Saints’ Day in November, Christmas in December, or summer vacation next year at latest, the Magic Park will see a surge in tourists.”
Kristin nodded; she wasn’t too concerned about profits—whatever business her mother was involved in would make money.
“Should the mixed operation of wizard and Muggle tourists be improved?” Kristin suddenly asked. “The Magic Park has had several troubles in half a month; perhaps guide and control it. Wizards and Muggles view the park differently; several times excited wizards drew wands, nearly causing magic exposure.”
“The basilisk train incidents?”
“Mm…”
Kristin recalled the incidents, revealing a faint smile. “Many wizards saw the basilisk and panicked, drawing wands to attack. Nearby Muggle tourists were stunned in surprise, thinking it was a special show, chasing to see their wand props and wanting to buy replicas.”
Melvin leaned back on his hands, exhaling: “That’s the meaning of building the Magic Park.”
“What meaning?”
“A bridge, connecting Muggle society and the wizarding world. Early on, it was local Paris wizards and Disney Muggle tourists; as fame spreads, more wizards and Muggles from elsewhere are attracted.” Melvin said softly, “The barriers between the two worlds quietly break.”
“Is that feasible? Little wizards are fine—they’ll soon play with Muggle peers—but adult wizards… France doesn’t have many pure-blood fans, but it was once the Cabal’s birthplace.”
Kristin frowned. “Many adult wizards shun Muggles; knowing the Magic Park mixes with them, they won’t buy tickets for their kids.”
“If they won’t visit the Magic Park, they’ll still watch projection mirror programs, right?” Melvin smiled.
“You mean…”
“In a few years, produce a series of films about wizard kids and Muggle kids meeting in the park, developing deep friendships, leading to stories of little wizards entering Muggle cities or Muggle kids stumbling into the wizarding world. Some things infiltrate silently like that—eventually their kids will encounter Muggles themselves.”
Melvin tapped the newspaper; the cover showed a photo of two children holding hands with bright smiles—one a wizard, the other a Muggle. “When pure-blood fans age out and new-generation wizards grow up, that’s when the new century arrives.”
Kristin stared at Melvin for two seconds, silently anticipating that new century in her heart, but asked: “When leaving Paris?”
“This weekend. Bastien’s condition needs handling; back in London, more planning, and… the hotel drawer can’t hold more invitations.”
Melvin gestured the thickness of invitations. “After the news spread, many wizards want into the projection mirror business. Ministry of Magic officials want to discuss Magic Park operations; even the elusive Minister sent an assistant’s message hoping for dinner.”
Kristin was silent a moment, then softly asked: “When next meeting?”
“Not too long.”
Melvin recalled the Triwizard Tournament, a faint smile on his face. He stood, brushed his trousers. “Let’s go; nothing to see in this mausoleum. Walk the park with me—as a send-off.”
Kristin didn’t know why he smiled but didn’t ask, standing to leave the catacombs with him.
Walking a park path corner, it was post-rain clearing weather, plant leaves still beaded with water, deep green turf blooming with white flowers.
