When he left Hogwarts, he was sent by Professor McGonagall to Ranko.

At the gate of the castle, the hooves of some grumpy Pegasus horses trampled on the ground, as if urging the master to hurry up.

Teacup stands next to Pegasus. As a house-elf who has served Malfoy for more than 300 years and witnessed the decline of many glorious families, after entering this well-known school of witchcraft and wizardry, it can't help but find fault with the level of service at Hogwarts.

And from yesterday's and today's observations, it turns out that Hogwarts, a place that has been "polluted" by terrible Muggles, no longer has the pure wizarding atmosphere of ancient nobility.

Durmstrang School of Witchcraft and Wizardry only admits purebloods, and Teacup is very happy with it.

"Poor Mr. Malfoy must not be left in the mud any longer...... Damn it! Damn teacups shouldn't have come up with that kind of dirty talk!! ”

Ranko inexplicably glanced at the house-elf who had started crashing his home.

"Old? Or do house-elves have such a thing as menopause? ”

"Mr. Malfoy, I think you know better than anyone the dangers of the dark arts."

Mr. Malfoy came back to his senses.

Professor McGonagall's face was still serious, but Ranko could still feel the worry hidden in the solemn expression of the other party.

"Yes, Professor McGonagall." Ranko nodded, "I think I understand the dangers of dark magic better than any wizard. ”

But it was because of immersion in the twisted world of black magic that he could get what he wanted.

"Dark magic or not, it's just a tool for us to delve into this wonderful world, Professor McGonagall, and I know that."

When Professor McGonagall heard this, she gave Ranko a somewhat complicated look, then nodded.

"Goodbye, then, Mr. Malfoy."

"Goodbye, Professor McGonagall."

Pegasi soared, and with fierce winds and growing mountain fog, the majestic castle faded into the clouds and the afterglow of the setting sun.

"Goodbye, Hogwarts."

After the carriage reached a certain height, the carriage finally stopped shaking.

Ranko looked at the moon rising outside the window and closed the curtains.

The inside of the carriage is still warm and quiet. If it weren't for the quick flashing images outside the window, it would be hard to imagine that they were speeding at an altitude of 10,000 meters.

"From England, even if it's the speed of a Pegasus, it will take at least half a day."

This is nowhere near as good as Muggle transportation.

Not to mention, Pegasi need to rest, and they can't run for twelve hours without sleep.

Hehe, if there is any horse wizard in the wizarding world, if he really does this, he will probably be hanged in the square of the International Federation of Wizards and executed in public.

Ranko was amused by his thoughts, and when his thoughts returned to business, he pulled out the reply letter from Durmstrang from his pocket.

"Durmstrang School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, one of the three major schools of magic in Europe."

He opened the envelope, took out his wand and tapped the corner of the envelope.

Like Hogwarts, Durmstrang's school site is protected by a powerful protective charm, and there is no way to find out where the school's gates are without an acquaintance to lead the way.

What's even more bizarre is that even wizards from the Ministry of Magic and the International Federation of Wizards need to use amnestics to erase memories of Durmstrang's specific address after traveling to Durmstrang.

Hogwarts is already very open.

At least Headmaster Dumbledore didn't "forget everything" to everyone in the British Ministry of Magic.

"The location of Durmstrang's school has always been a mystery, but the approximate location can be demarcated."

Northern Europe, Norway.

One by one, crimson words danced at the tip of the wand.

Svalbard.

Spitsbergen.

Newton's Peak.

"Durmstrang School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

The words turned into red pointers, pointing into the distance.

"Teacups."

The house-elf teacup respectfully appeared at Ranko's side.

"What do you command, Mr. Malfoy?"

Ranko handed him the letter in his hand.

The teacup took the letter, bowed, and disappeared into the carriage.

Ranco leaned back comfortably in the soft chair, thinking that the teacup was really good.

At least with this old house-elf here, he doesn't have to worry about many things at all.

"But speaking of which, Durmstrang should still be on vacation."

It's only early August, and he still has plenty of time to learn about this ancient school.

In particular, it is said to contain ancient magic, and there is a library with the secret of the Bulgarian witch, the founder of Durmstrang.

He couldn't wait to go to Durmstrang School...... Ahem, the exploration is unknown.

The carriage was very fast, and the next day it was about three o'clock in the afternoon when the carriage fell.

Snowflakes fluttered in the sky, and the mountains and mountains were endlessly presented in Ranko's sight.

Even in August, the temperature in this place is stable enough.

Ranco touched the quail egg in his pocket, and the little life inside seemed to feel the change in the environment, touching the eggshell, feeling that it could break out of the shell at any time.

"Here we are, Svalbard, Spitsbergen."

Spitsbergen is the largest island in the Norwegian archipelago of Svalbard, close to the Arctic, and is home to polar day (April to August) and polar night (November to January).

The climate is cold, snowy all year round, the coal industry is relatively prosperous, and the majority of people live here are Ukrainians and Russians, while Norwegians make up only two-fifths or less.

- Of course, according to statistics, the permanent population of Spitsbergen (excluding wizards) is less than 2,000.

Ranko stepped out of the carriage, his gaze beyond the mountains, over the falling snowflakes, and into the pure white mountains.

The wand slipped down, and Ranko's wand was aimed at the empty white world in front of him.

As a mantra was recited softly, the world of snowflakes in front of him seemed to lift a curtain, and the magnificent building slowly lifted its veil and revealed itself in front of him.

The spell that protected the school was briefly lifted, and what fell into Ranko's eyes was a fortified fortress on the top of a mountain on top of an unfrozen lake, a solemn and solemn castle.

The blue-gray city walls are ancient and mottled, and the huge lake that never freezes is behind the castle, and there are faintly unrealistic wooden boats floating on it, faintly like ancient ships steered by ghosts.

The tributaries of the lake spread outward, forming a moat around the castle, and finally falling into the mountains, where a huge curtain of water can be heard from afar, and the natural landscape looks spectacular.

Compared to the Black Lagoon at Hogwarts, Durmstrang's location is even more unique.

Of course, the weather here is also exceptional......

It's cold......

Cold, cold.

Mr. Malfoy got into the carriage and instructed Teacup to light the letter and inform Durmstrang's headmaster.

Igor Karkarov.