HP's Foreign Land

After the Potions class was over, it was time for meals. Durmstrang's lunch time was much more generous than that of Hogwarts. It lasted from twelve o'clock to two o'clock, a full two hours.Fred and George of the Weasley family once complained about this. Eating lunch at Hogwarts is like fighting a war. The school only gives you an hour to spare. In most cases, you can only force it into your mouth blindly. Stuff all the food you can swallow, because you'll have to take as much time out of the hour as possible to do other things.Many students have to use this hour to complete the homework that they didn't finish last night or breakfast.If the class in the afternoon is far away, you even have to deduct the time spent running to the classroom from this pitiful hour... In short, lunch at Hogwarts is the busiest time of the day, as if every student Tired of running like wheels.

Durmstrang is much more relaxed in this respect.Some students even set aside one or two days a week for the house-elf to cook homemade dishes for themselves. The privileged model is not uncommon in this school, and everyone is used to it.

Before eating, Heimdall made a special visit to the school hospital. This was the first time he visited the school on his own initiative.The members of the Quidditch school team are frequent visitors to the school hospital, especially Victor, who is the Seeker, and Duncan, who is the goalkeeper, come here every now and then.

Because Snow's own job was related to Quidditch, Heimdall knew a thing or two about this ancient and enduring sport.

From his personal cognition point of view, Quidditch is a brutal and sturdy sport. Except for the scoring rules of Quaffle and Golden Snitch, which need to be strictly followed, other constraints are basically ignored.Hidden dangers such as bruises, falls, scratches, and being hit by a Bludger wait for an opportunity. If you feel dizzy, hurt, or fall, you will think you are unlucky.What puts friendship first and competition second, it is nonsense on the Quidditch field.If you don't have diamonds, don't do porcelain work. All the players in the game are quite conscious.

The principle that Quidditch has advocated since ancient times is: don't ask why the score was overtaken, do you have the ball of the Golden Snitch.

Sometimes I think that there is indeed a way to the saying "people divide like flocks, like like flock together". The brothers who are more familiar with Heimdall seem to be related to Quidditch.Victor, Bernick, Duncan... Even Edmund, the head of VK, is inextricably linked.

Thinking of this, he pouted, pushed the door open and walked into the school hospital.

The school hospital in Durmstrang is located in the raised greenhouse on the edge of the No. 9 greenhouse. It is a glass house with elevated ground floor.Seen from a distance, the entire hospital is in the shape of a dome bubble, hanging like a big bulging bubble on the side edge of No. 9 Greenhouse.The school hospital has ample internal space and many beds, which can accommodate 26 students for clinical treatment at the same time.Although the geographical environment of Durmstrang itself is not satisfactory, and the weather is always flickering and cloudy, the school hospital maintains sufficient light 365 days a year.Regardless of whether it is dusk or the dawn is rising, it will be lit with bright but gentle lights, like an immortal guiding night light, releasing bright light that does not disperse through the crystal clear glass wall.

The school doctor was a dumpy old man named Mr. Follett.Heimdall didn't know if Follett was his first or last name. The teachers and students in the school called him that, and no one seemed to care about the exact answer. It became a habit over time.Mr. Follett became known as the official name.Fortunately, he himself doesn't care about it, and he always looks cheerful and optimistic. Perhaps because of his easy-going attitude of aloofness, he always ranks first in the list of Durmstrang's most popular faculty members in the past.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" Walking through the room where the hospital beds are placed, Mr. Follett can be seen in front of the wall facing the door. He is standing with his back to Heimdall in front of a white cabinet full of various medicines. .

Heimdall said, "Sir, I need some medicine that works well for trauma."

Hearing this, Follett turned around, his round eyes suddenly closed, as if very surprised.When the line of sight scanned for about half a minute, a flash of sharpness flashed in the usually quiet eyes, but it was fleeting.

"Only trauma medicine?"

Heimdall nodded without changing his expression, "Yes, sir, as long as the trauma medicine."

"Try this." Mr. Follett reached out and took a palm-sized porcelain bottle from the upper shelf of the cabinet, walked slowly to Heimdall with his fat legs, and said as he handed it over, "This is a newly prepared wound medicine , I think it should be pretty good, mainly for various foreign object scratches and... animal damage."

Heimdall frowned, accepted it calmly, and thanked him.

A reassuring smile appeared on Mr. Follett's fat round face, "Young people should take good care of themselves. Learning is your mission, and it is what you should do to make yourself healthy."

Heimdall nodded silently.He still knows the truth of saying too much and making mistakes, especially when facing a doctor with vicious eyes, he should pretend to be deaf and dumb.

Mr. Follett seemed quite satisfied with his cooperative attitude, so he kindly suggested: "You haven't eaten just after class, so hurry up, don't delay the class time."

Heimdall thanked him again obediently, stuffed the medicine bottle back into his school uniform pocket, and left the school hospital downstairs.

On the way to the restaurant, I turned to the boys' restroom and applied some wound medicine to my face in front of the threaded mirror attached to the freestanding washbasin.This bottle of wound medicine exudes a faint fragrance of Milan flowers, but if you sniff it carefully, you will find that the fragrance is to hide the stronger smell of mint but not mint... Heimdall sniffed for a long time, pondered for a long time, and finally Had to give up due to limited knowledge.

If he could get the formula just by smelling it, he wouldn't have to rush to the school hospital to beg for it.

***

When Heimdall walked into the restaurant, he bumped into Professor Laura Manko who had finished eating and was leaving the restaurant. He felt guilty that he had done something wrong and was caught on the spot.In fact, he did make a mistake. As a student, not going to the first class of the new semester is in itself a heinous crime.

Heimdall didn't dare to move, and his eyeballs didn't even dare to glance randomly, he was being tormented by himself.I want to escape, but I also want to take the initiative to admit my mistake.Just when he was riding a tiger, Professor Manke walked past him without seeing him, without even stopping or pausing in his steps.

This situation made Heimdall even more entangled.Just when he didn't know whether to breathe a sigh of relief or scold himself severely, Professor Manke, who was walking steadily, suddenly stopped.

"Mr. Sturluson."

Heimdall's heart skipped a beat, and he turned around abruptly: "Professor." The voice sounded very humble, and he didn't say "what" but directly agreed to the words, which showed that he had made the worst plan and realized that he was wrong .

Laura Manco raised her eyebrows. There was no joy or anger on her delicate oval face, and her eyes were calm: "The homework must be completed on time, please hand it in before nine o'clock tomorrow morning."

Heimdall was stunned for a moment, and when he realized that the other party was looking at him and waiting for his answer, he quickly nodded in response, "Yes, professor."

Professor Manke pursed his lips indifferently, turned and left without expressing anything.

Heimdall touched his nose embarrassingly, and smiled secretly. The professor must be angry, right? !Leaving aside what was going on in that weird human-beast duel, just because she had the desire to skip class and actually put it into action, as a teacher who spreads knowledge, she has the right to be angry, and her actions are against her. A disrespect to...

The more I think about it, the more depressed I get, the more I think about it, the more depressed I feel, the more I think about it, the more I feel guilty.For a moment, Heimdall wished that a thunderbolt would strike him and kill him.

Heimdall, who was immersed in self-disgust, couldn't notice the following gazes gathered around him. Except for the first grade, people from all grades cast attention on him, but it was a pity that he was ignored by the followers themselves, so that all kinds of people raised their eyebrows. His vision was all flooded and lost.

Leon Blueleg was the first to notice his changes in the whole first grade. It should be said that other than him, no one else would have paid that attention at all.As a resident of 017, he has the right and responsibility to pay attention to his roommates, Leon told himself so.

If Heimdall Strulusson was a sharp-edged young master who didn't know what restraint was before class this morning, then the Heimdall Strulusson in front of him was a house elf who was a bit restrained ... This metaphor may be exaggerated, but it is very illustrative.

It's just a morning, no, it's just a history of magic, what happened to him?Encountered a thorny problem that cannot be solved?Or had he encountered something that had hit him hard?

"Is my face blooming?" Heimdall asked helplessly.Perhaps anyone who received his dissecting gaze, which was similar to breaking the intestines, would feel terrified and feel a pain in the back.

Leon retracted his gaze calmly, and turned to deal with the mixed meatballs on the plate.

He didn't have any appetite, so he ate a few mouthfuls of vegetable cakes and hot soup, and Heimdall pushed the plate away to make room in front of the table.The two of them are sitting on the central long table at the moment, Leon is on the left, and the closest student to him on the right is about 7 meters away from him, so there is enough space.

Heimdall took out the letters he received this morning and opened them one by one.In addition to the greetings from many friends and family members in the UK, there are also several letters from readers of The Quibbler.This is not the first time he has received these letters. Since the day he published an article as a contributor to the journal, he has received many feedback letters from readers one after another.Based on Miss Luna Lovegood's nonsensical belief that "contributors must remain mysterious," letters from readers are forwarded through the editorial office of The Quibbler.This caused a time gap, and he couldn't receive and reply immediately.Fortunately, the release date of "The Quibbler" has always been elusive, and it has never had the sense of responsibility that a media worker should have to its readers, so Heimdall is happy to follow suit.

As soon as he opened the first envelope, he was taken aback.Although this reader is not an old friend, he is the one who has communicated with me the most frequently in more than a month.The first time he received a letter from him was on the Tuesday of the fifth week of summer vacation. Heimdall remembered it very clearly, because when he went to read Russian poetry that morning, the white man who had always been silent and liked to admire the snow in the freezing temperature The old man opened his mouth very abruptly when he was about to leave. This was the second time he had spoken since he said "thank you" in Russian. He was still speaking in Russian, and he still couldn't hear his emotions flatly.

What did he say?Heimdall frowned and thought for a moment——

"Which class do you like least?"

Without even thinking about it, I answered, "History of Magic."

……

The hand holding the letter suddenly slumped, and the letter fell back on the table. Heimdall ignored it and stared straight at the leftovers on the table. After thinking for a moment, he suddenly groaned and lay down on the table with a sad face.

Don't think about it too much, the more you think about it, the more headache you will get, and the more you have a headache, the more chaotic you will be.

Forget it, read the letter and read the letter.

Ah Q hinted to hypnotize himself, he regained his energy and picked up the letter again...