HP's Foreign Land

Rommel stayed at No. 57 Knockturn Lane until the next morning. From his relaxed and comfortable demeanor when he left, it can be seen that this cheap son was deeply in his heart.Heimdall started to deal with the aftermath immediately after Snow went to work, that is, writing letters to the Weasleys and replying to Draco Malfoy.As for Neil, one of the cohabitants, I haven't seen her since yesterday, and she may have gone to burn passion with a certain man again.

Draco's reply was astonishingly fast, and it didn't take long for Olar to bring the reply back.The content of Master Malfoy's letter is concise and highly generalized - we have no letterhead, signature, or punctuation in our face-to-face conversation.Without the inherent calmness of the Platinum Family, even the ending of the handwriting reveals a bit of impatience.Heimdall was surprised, but he couldn't help being touched, this kid actually valued himself so much.Could this be the so-called centripetal force of blood?

So they agreed to meet at Florin's Soda in Diagon Alley at 10:[-] the next morning.

At around 09:30 the next morning, Heimdall sat on the balcony of the cold drink shop and had just eaten his first bite of the citrus sundae when Draco, who was dressed up, climbed up to the second floor.At this time, Heimdall hadn't even warmed up the chair cushions.

"I remember it was ten o'clock." He looked down at the watch on his wrist. "Is the watch slow?"

Draco couldn't summon the energy to respond, as he always did with Muggle stuff.

The owner Florin stepped forward and said courteously, "What would you like, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco frowned unbearably, "I don't have the habit of eating cold drinks early in the morning."

Florin's expression froze, unable to speak.

Heimdall rolled his eyes, pointed to the ice cream box in front of him, "Give him the same one."

Seeing that Draco frowned, but did not object, Florin walked away quickly as if he had been pardoned.

Once there was no one else around, Draco finally couldn't hold back and said, "Why did it take so long to write back to me?" The aggressive and natural questioning seemed to be his natural right.

"I am busy."

Vague answers don't please the Malfoys, who always want what they want.

Draco narrowed his eyes slightly, and sneered contemptuously, "You still haven't been able to get rid of those noble poor ghost friends?"

The ice cream lost its sweet and sour taste in an instant, and became sweet and sticky.How to describe Draco Malfoy at this time?Heimdall thought wistfully.Obviously holding a sharp and sharp weapon to kill people first, but it is more like a deep state of self-protection, as if in a dead and cold underwater abyss, a kind of loneliness and indifference after compulsory exclusion.

"Draco, do you always like to be hated by others?"

The platinum boy's face turned pale, and he clenched his fists tightly under his sleeves.He said in a cold tone: "I don't need those lowly commoners to like me. This is the difference between me and them, isn't it? I only have one friend in this world, you and Lige."

Heimdall lowered his head and poked the melted ice cream with a wooden spoon, losing his appetite.

At this time, Florin delivered the prepared citrus ice cream and left in a hurry.

Draco just twitched his lips at that.

Heimdall raised his face again, the expression on his face was the same as usual, without the slightest influence from just now.

"I want to tell you that I will definitely not go to Hogwarts next year. My father came yesterday. Although he didn't force me, I am willing to follow the family tradition and go to Durmstrang."

Draco listened carefully, but said nothing.

Silence hung overhead.Heimdall was really not in the mood to enliven the atmosphere, so he lowered his head and continued to poke at the completely changed ice cream in the box.

"Sorry to hear that." Draco finally responded calmly. "My mother wouldn't let me go to a school far away. As a child of an English wizarding family, Hogwarts was inevitable."

"You're lucky. It's a testament to how much your mother cared about you."

Draco shrugged blankly, "I'm an only child."

These noble boys are so strange that admitting the existence of feelings seems to kill them.

When they left Florin's Soda, Heimdall felt that the owner was sending them off almost in a voice of joy—the Malfoys were keen to create a stressful atmosphere wherever they went.

In the noisy street, they are so out of place in the silence.

Heimdall almost blurted out, "Would you like to visit my house?"

"Where are you referring?"

"57 Knockturn Lane."

Draco didn't object.

# # #

This is beyond Master Malfoy's imagination.He didn't expect that the official residence and apartment of the Strulusson family, one of the few ancient families in Europe whose origin could be traced back, would be so... eclectic.

Forgive him, that was really the least rude adjective he could find.After this visit, he seemed to understand why Rieger didn't like Malfoy Manor.

The two are simply not comparable.

"Is it the same at Sturluson Manor?" Draco asked cautiously.

"of course not."

Hearing this, he breathed a sigh of relief.Unexpectedly, the next sentence hung his heart again.

"It will be cleaned once a month. The old house has not been cleaned for nearly ten years."

"Don't you have a lot of house-elves in your house?"

"It is said that my grandfather told me before his death that since no one wants to continue to live there, don't bother to take care of it every day. Therefore, the house elves will only move if my father or my uncle orders them to clean. This is also through It took a long time to get used to it, and you know, those clean freaks (house-elves in this case) scream at the sight of a speck of sand."

Draco had nothing to say.The behavior of the Sturluson family was no longer within his comprehension, and he even felt a headache.

"Take it easy, friend." Heimdall was never serious. "Our world is full of positive and negative facts, but unfortunately they are all truths that you have to believe. Just being human is already a very lucky thing."

"Are you mocking me?" Of course Draco knew what the outside world had said about their family: pretentious people who discriminated against all non-human creatures.

"No, no, no," Heimdall put on an air of fearlessness, and said in a tone that makes people's backs shudder, "The new commandment I give you is to love each other."

Draco's eyes widened, looking like he was in some kind of shock, and he shook his hands and said, "You'll be cursed to death by those fanatical religious lunatics."

"Hey! That's what Jesus said. I'm just paraphrasing, which is also teaching."

The platinum boy reluctantly changed the subject. "Is this a vinyl disc?" He picked up a square flat cardboard box from the messy carpet, and there was indeed a vinyl record inserted in it.The wizarding world also has gramophones, so he is no stranger to vinyl records compared to the dazzling high-tech audio and video playback equipment in the Muggle world.

"Oh, that's the best of The Beatles." Moving a large mess of blankets from the side cabinet, the buried phonograph was revealed. "Want to hear it?"

Draco was actually not interested in Muggle music, and seeing Rigg's enthusiasm, he reluctantly nodded.

After a while, playful and simple music flows from the huge horn of the phonograph, and the background is accompanied by bursts of tidal waves.It is the famous Yellow Submarine (yellow submarine).

"This song is very..."

Seeing how hard he was racking his brains, Heimdall burst out laughing, "I said Draco, you can't compare the Beetle with Edward Elgar."

"You like... this, the Beetle?" Draco looked like he had swallowed a fly.

Heimdall looked at the ceiling and said with emotion, "Music is very far away to me." (The child sings out of tune)

# # #

"Have you started packing?" Draco asked as soon as he entered Heimdall's room, pointing to the suitcase in the corner.

"Not yet, but I'm starting to think about what to bring there."

Draco looked around. Although the room was messy, it was still organized.But it's too narrow, you can touch the foot of the bed in three steps from the door, the wallpaper is so mottled and old that only some patterns and stripes can be seen clearly, the floor creaks under your feet, and there are many cracks in the curtains... To be honest, the smallest sundry store in Malfoy Manor was bigger than that.He couldn't figure it out. Could it be that the Sturluson family's splendid family business, established since the beginning of the Middle Ages, couldn't even afford a decent house?Since they have an old house, why would they rather leave it empty than move to this dilapidated place?

"Because our family's ancestral motto is: the freedom of self-creation is the real freedom."

Startled, Draco looked at Heimdall uneasily.

The latter just smiled gently, without any blame. "I don't have mind reading skills, and you didn't say it out of your mouth. I can see it from your expression."

"Sorry," Draco breathed out, raking his meticulously combed hair. "I did not mean anything else."

"Wow~~ Master Malfoy is apologizing?"

"Heimdall Strulusson!"

"Okay, okay, don't be angry, I'll just shut up."

Draco looked away angrily.

Heimdall's expression changed when he noticed the new focus of his eyes, and he moved suddenly, and then stopped again.He stabilized himself and chose to calm down his expression calmly, not letting himself spoil things by making a fuss.He waited hopefully, for the final verdict on that possibility.

Unfortunately, the result disappointed him.

"Why do you have a picture of my aunt?" The movement of the people in the picture is locked in a certain moment, obviously this is an image produced by Muggle techniques.At this moment, Draco has no time to care about these little regrets.He stared dumbfounded at the characters in the photo: a beautiful woman with pale blond hair and a charming smile, and a little boy who was almost identical to her in her arms.

"Rig...is that you in the picture?" Draco confirmed with forced calm, "You and my aunt..."

In the face of mountains of irrefutable evidence, no one can say "no".What's more, Heimdall is indeed very similar to his mother. Even if he tries to erase some clues through various means, those imprints from blood still exist, and they have not disappeared and will never disappear.

A trace of helplessness appeared on Heimdall's face, and he muttered, "I shouldn't have brought him here."

For a long time, there was no more sound in the room.

Draco took a deep breath. "That is to say, you are my aunt's son? Are we actually blood relatives?"

Heimdall didn't bat an eye. "You know, it's nothing new, a lot of people look alike—"

"Answer my question!" Draco hissed, wondering how the not-so-unexpectedly perfunctory answer would irritate him so much, causing him an uncontrollable rage.

The atmosphere became tense due to the roar.

Heimdall pursed his lips, which made him look inherently inhuman, what people call Malfoy unattainable.

"Okay, my answer. We're blood relatives. If that's what you want to know."