HP's Foreign Land

Belgium is a butterfly. From the map, its territory just constitutes a butterfly-shaped symmetrical pattern.One side caresses the North Sea with its wings; the other side skims over the mid-western border of Germany.The hollows on the upper part of the wings are inlaid with the shell-shaped Grand Duchy of Luxembourg.The butterfly's tail stretches as far as Holland, and its eyes look straight to Paris.

With a land area of ​​[-] square kilometers, it can be called a miniature.

However, it is such a small country that is called "the most European".Belgium's "capital" Brussels is also the "capital of Europe" - the EU headquarters is located here.

Brussels is the city of institutions, the capital of museums, and the home of immigrants from all over the world.

There are as many foreign immigrants in Belgium as the sediment on the seabed. There are three official languages ​​in this country, German, French, and Dutch.

It's a pity that Heimdall's destination is not Brussels. He stayed in the city's grand square for less than half a minute, with various languages ​​and national costumes in his ears.It is open, busy, vigorous, and the eye contact of just [-] seconds is still amazing. The Gothic buildings around the square are like burning flames. Perhaps anyone who comes here will follow the pulsation of this "Heart of Europe" And boiling for joy.

***

Their destination is here, in the northwest of Belgium, the capital of West Flanders, and the medieval hometown - Bruges, also known as the "Venice of the North".

The headquarters of the International Federation of Wizards is located here, including the International Magic Field Evaluation and Research Institute they are about to go to.

Houses in Bruges are built along the river, and water is the patron saint of the city, endowing it with wealth and aura.Red bricks and red tiles, as well as stepped triangular roofs, these classic elements of Flemish architectural style are integrated together, making this city exude a dazzling atmosphere like a fairy tale in a dream.

They pass by old churches and monasteries.They walked across the quaint stone bridge, and the canal flowed quietly under the bridge.

The swans stretched their wings lazily and gracefully on the river. Heimdall squatted by the river, staring at them. He felt the pure and white feathers beckoning to it, and he longed to touch it with his own hands.Pedestrians and tourists nearby were puzzled by his strange behavior of not moving for a long time. In order not to cause a topic, Gironde, who was laughing and laughing, had to drag him away from there.

Fortunately, Heimdall was just a whim and did not cause trouble to the two companions.

Walking on the blue-gray cobblestone road, shuttling through the deep and winding lanes, the mist that permeates everywhere in winter wafts away like silk at noon in this cold early spring.

Although it is not the first time to come to Bruges, it is the first time to walk on the streets of Bruges. The ancient city-state that has just woken up from hibernation shows its bewitching charm in front of outsiders.

Heimdall is intoxicated by the medieval style that hits his face.

"Everything is good here, except that there are more and more Muggles..." Golden, who managed to squeeze out from a group of noisy tourists, muttered dissatisfiedly.

Bruges miraculously escaped the flames of war during World War II, and its medieval style was relatively intact.There are more than 2000 ancient buildings from the 11th to the 19th century, moats, stone roads and stone walls, as well as ancient windmills, which have become the proud capital of Bruges to invigorate the tourism industry. Tourists from all over the world There is an endless stream, filling the streets and alleys of Bruges, it is strange that there are not many people.

As soon as he thought of this, Heimdall was pulled by a tourist's umbrella.Heimdall cried loudly in pain on purpose, but the tourist didn't notice it. He spoke in a squeaky-clear language, and went into another alley with his companions excitedly.

At this moment, the old and the young in the three-person team all became full of anger, and there seemed to be dark clouds piling up above their heads.

Gironde glanced at the other end of the alley and said, "We're just ahead."

"You said that 10 minutes ago." Heimdall couldn't help but doubt.

"To be honest, my grades in divination were mediocre when I was young," Gironde said. "This alley was empty 10 minutes ago."

Golden didn't dare to show the slightest dissatisfaction, and walked closely with Heimdall along the way, and the target of his speech was also determined to be on Heimdall, keeping silent about Girondt, lest he avoid him.

He feels more secure around a 15-year-old boy than the justice.

The stone road appears and disappears among the ancient buildings, the soles of shoes hit the stone road, and the dusty history makes a faint trembling sound under the feet.

There may be one or two tourists who are impatient to listen to the same introduction from the tour guide, stretch their necks to look around, and then he will find that three people have bent down and got into a dark doorway not far away. He would be puzzled by the words, the door is said to have been blocked.

But he didn't notice, he didn't even see those three people.

***

Inside the door was an old elevator, and the wooden door creaked shut. The space inside was not too narrow. According to Heimdall's visual inspection, it was similar to that in the headquarters building of the Wizards Union.It's just too bad.Opposite the entrance is an iron fence door, which is mottled with rust. The light bulb above the head flickers on and off, and the light bulb is covered with spider webs.

Looking at the unknown end through the gap in the fence, Heimdalton was startled. A haggard person was leaning on a large wooden barrel. He or she—it was hard to identify—behind Hidden in the dark is a giant.

The huge torso undulates slightly with breathing, and the two big eyeballs stare at them in the dark, the piercing gaze makes people shudder.

The behemoth was a river monster. If it hadn't been for a thrilling trip to the Forbidden Forest and some knowledge gained, Heimdall would not have been able to determine its identity in such a short period of time.

"Don't be afraid, that's the guard of the magic institution, and we're going through the normal channel." Girondt misunderstood Heimdall's reaction, and quickly patted his shoulder with his hand.

Heimdall didn't explain anything, but smiled gratefully at him.

Golden had a calm face, and he didn't know whether he was so well-informed that he was not surprised, or he was not interested in these things at all.

Gironde pressed the left of the only two buttons in the elevator.

After a while, there was a violent vibration under my feet, and the elevator began to move upwards.

***

This elevator went very slowly, it took nearly 20 seconds to move from the first floor to the second floor.

So sluggish that people in the elevator thought it was malfunctioning.

It's better to climb the stairs quickly. Amidst Heimdall's muttering, Girond opened the fence door, and the sound of pushing the door was accompanied by large pieces of rust falling down. When Girondt turned around, his two A layer of rust covered the hands and shoe.

Heimdall wanted to do something about it, but Girondt stopped him.

He stepped out of the elevator, and the rust was gone.

"House-elf?!" Heimdall was stunned.

Gironnant nodded.

"Wouldn't it be easier for them to just fix the elevator's grille door?" Heimdall was very puzzled. Could it be that such a big organization didn't think of it?

"This door is one of the characteristics of magical institutions." Gironde laughed. "Anyone who's been here is impressed by it. The magical institution claims they've improved it. There's no house-elf waiting there to shine shoes."

Heimdall was speechless.

***

Behind the fence gate is a spacious hall with tall and beautiful vaults, huge candle chandeliers, long windows, and gorgeous stained glass.The pattern on the large stained glass in front is neither Jesus nor God, let alone the teachings of the Bible, but the words "magic is power" written in more than 300 languages.

The hall was noisy and chaotic, with paper planes of various colors flying around in the sky, wizards coming in and out from the door openings on both sides, and occasionally bird messengers would suddenly fly out from unknown places.The house-elves were busy picking up the droppings left by the birds.

It is far from the tall, rigorous and methodical Heimdall imagined.

"This is the International Magic Field Evaluation and Research Institute?" Heimdall couldn't help muttering.

"Not yet, this is the outermost business reception." Gironde walked to the door of the elevator, in front of the wooden shelf placed against the wall, on which was hung a row of papers that could be flipped, and each piece of paper was written A number, currently, this row of numbers stays at 003, I don't know what it means.

Gironde came back with a small card, and the number on the shelf suddenly changed to 004.

There was a sound of flipping pages, and the page number 004 in front of a certain door also flipped over.Girondt led Heimdall to find this door, Heimdall was dumbfounded, he dared to believe that this is a bank, he queued up with the number to handle the business.

Golden remained silent from beginning to end, but Judge Gironde's attitude was very positive.Before entering the door, Heimdall looked back at Golden, seeing a belated professor bewildered.

"Please throw the number plate in the basket by the door." The person inside the door made such a voice, the business-like voice sounded soft and crisp.

is a lady.

Gironde put it away, and the card floated into the empty basket.

Heimdall thought that the business of this "bank" seemed not to be very good.

The receptionist in charge of Heimdall's party sat behind a new mahogany desk.Such an office is messy and follows a standardized process. The desktop is full of various documents, and the ground is a mess. No matter how many lockers you have, it seems that there will never be enough. Leftovers are growing mold in the corners. The heat will give off a bad smell.Fortunately, they chose to visit the magical institution in early spring.

It is said that such a large organization generally does not allow the house-elves to clean up directly, and the cleaning is strictly arranged according to the schedule.

Heimdall thought this scene looked familiar. It was similar to what he saw when he first went to IW.

"I'm sorry." The person behind the desk swept all the documents on the desk that blocked his view into a large basket, then straightened his clothes, wiped his hair, and sat down again.

She straightened her glasses on the bridge of her nose, took the information Heimdall handed over, and glanced at Heimdall again.

"What type of business do you want to handle? Cancellation? Registration? Or transfer?" The receptionist spoke clearly and neatly.

Heimdall looked at the other two in confusion.

Gironde smiled, "I'm sorry, but this kid can't understand French. If you can, please use German."

The receptionist quickly apologized and repeated himself.

Golden was rather interested, and before Heimdall could speak, he shouted, "Transfer."

The receptionist took the materials out of the paper bag, flipped them over skillfully, and finally, she looked at the signature column on it and said, "Mr. Nero Golden?"

"It's me." Gordon responded quickly.

They quickly chatted about the many matters of applying and transferring eligibility.

Heimdall couldn't get in the conversation, so he could only wait silently by the side. At the same time, he also admired the lady for not changing her face from beginning to end.

The International Institute for Evaluation and Research in the Field of Magic is the only place in the world where "heroes don't ask where they come from". It may require you to show a strong background, and it may also be interested in your past glorious deeds, but it is very important to you Good and evil are not in mind.

In magical institutions, Avada Kedavra and Disarming Curse are equal, there is no distinction between white magic and black magic, there is only "magic".

The International Agency for Evaluation and Research in the Field of Magic, referred to as the Magic Agency, was established in 1612, three years after the First Goblin Rebellion.It started out as a small seminar group of spell-obsessed scholars dedicated to promoting magic and how to use it peacefully.

Later, the research and promotion of magic and the magic concept advocated by the institution gradually gained the recognition of the majority of wizards, and attracted a large number of insightful people who treat magic equally to join the research team, and gradually formed the current scale.

At present, the International Institute of Magic has established a relationship with the International Federation of Wizards and has become one of the affiliated organizations of the Federation. The Ministry of Magic of all countries in the world conducts research cooperation of different types and scales in the field of magic.On the surface, this institution is an intergovernmental cooperation organization. In fact, a large number of research experiments are still from the private sector. At the same time, the magic institution is also the highest institution in charge of monitoring the safety of magic use in various regions.The national data monitored by the Ministry of Magic of each country will eventually be aggregated here.

There are currently 150 member states of the magical institution. At the end of last year, after the joint recommendation of 35 members of the institution, Liechtenstein submitted an application. It is said that the magical institution has not yet responded.

"...the name of the transferor."

"Heimdall Strulusson."

Heimdall came to his senses when he heard his name.

"Is this gentleman?" The receptionist looked at Heimdall.

"Yes." Gordon nodded.

The receptionist took out a new application form and a supplementary form, and her quill pen scribbled on the supplementary form, "Mr. Strulusson is not yet of age, is he?"

Golden started to answer again, "I just celebrated my 15th birthday this year."

Seeing that he was so active, Heimdall simply shut his mouth and continued to be dazed.

"Current students?"

"Currently attending Durmstrang College."

"What grade?"

"fourth grade."

The receptionist paused, raised his eyes and glanced at the three men in front of him, "Which of you is Heimdall Strulusson?"

Gordon's excitement froze on his face.

Heimdall couldn't help laughing, he didn't expect this lady with a straight face to be quite humorous.

The receptionist raised her eyebrows and lowered her eyes to continue writing. After a while, she raised her eyes and said to Heimdall, "Is the guarantor here?"

Heimdall nodded.

The receptionist asked again, "The name of the guarantor."

"Marselan Gironde."

As soon as this remark was made, the other three people at the scene, including Marselan Gironde, looked at Golden at the same time. Golden pursed his lips in embarrassment and whispered, "Sorry."

He is active again.