HP's Foreign Land

"Mr. Krum, I'm sorry, I don't want to interrupt you, but..." Dumbledore on the stage looked down helplessly through the small round glasses on the bridge of his nose. "Could you come up and take the award away first, and be considerate of me, an old man. This year's trophy seems to be very heavy." As he spoke, his hands trembled weakly a few times, and his body symbolically staggered forward, as if the cup in his hand The trophy really weighed as much as he joked, and the audience chuckled.

"Oh, by the way, why do I keep holding it, I can put it aside." Dumbledore muttered to himself, put the trophy on the podium, and let out a sigh of relief. "Wizards are extraordinarily willing to spend money this year."

The laughter in the audience became louder.

"Go, go!" Heimdall pushed the master vigorously, his forehead was covered with beads of sweat, and his face was flushed with excitement.

Victor found that Rigg was even happier than him for winning the award. The two of them were definitely the calmer side. In other words, Rigg actually wanted to win the award even more than he did.Thinking of this, Victor grabbed his arm that was about to be pulled away.

"You go up with me!"

"No, no, no," Heimdall pulled his hand that was holding his arm. "You're the winner, so I'll go up and figure out what's going on." Of course Heimdall was happy that he could say it so confidently, but he was happy because his sanity hadn't completely disappeared, so it wasn't appropriate to just go up like this.Even if the preface and the afterword of happiness of other award winners are inconsistent, their wives or husbands still sit in the audience and applaud vigorously as a bystander, so what is he.

At the critical juncture, Chief Sturlusson "dropped the chain".

"Don't be shy, come up together! Move fast, children!" Dumbledore said with a smile on the stage.With a word from the old principal, all problems were solved.No one would choose to disagree with Albus Dumbledore at this moment, both because they dare not; and because no wizard thinks he has the weight.

The excited smile quickly spread from the master's face, clear and dazzling like a boy of twelve or thirteen years old, and the director Stulusson, who was dazzled by this rare moment of scenery, was easily dragged onto the stage by his boyfriend, From the beginning to the end, the eyes are stupid.

Rommel in the auditorium raised an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes critically of certain interactions on the stage.

"Congratulations." Dumbledore pinned a glittering golden Barnabas Finkley Medal to Victor, and handed the heavy trophy to him.

Victor held up his palm for a moment, "Can we take it together?"

Dumbledore looked at him, then at Heimdall who was stunned by Victor's words, and showed a kind smile.

"Of course, I'm ready, I'm going to present the award."

"Hand out, Rigg."

Heimdall hurriedly followed suit and took the trophy together with Victor. The moment the cold metal touched his skin, Heimdall could really feel its weight, its temperature, plop plop plop plop, warm Yes, like a living thing.Heaviness and heat come from the throbbing of the heart, which is the feedback of the heart.

"Are you happy, Rig?" Victor's voice came, which seemed far away and yet very close.

"I feel like my heart is beating too fast and I'm about to pass out." Heimdall felt the skin on his face tense.

"Don't get dizzy, I haven't given my acceptance speech yet." The master couldn't help smiling when he saw that he was serious.

"How could it be possible to really faint?!" Chief Sturlusson gave him a blank look. "I haven't seen you win the award for outstanding athlete in the international competitive field!"

"There's a lot of pressure." Victor complained pretentiously, handed the trophy to Heimdall, walked behind the podium, and looked at the audience.

Most of the audience looked back on him with a smile on their faces.

"The seats are a bit far," Victor said.

Sporadic short laughs sounded quickly, and then disappeared quickly.

Victor quickly reported a series of names to express his gratitude, because the timekeeper off the field had already raised his hand to him, which was a signal telling him that the 3-minute time was coming to an end.When he finished reporting in one breath, not only he himself was relieved, but also the dizzy guests in the audience.

"I have to be grateful to a wizard here, and that is Mr. Heimdall Strulusson." Viktorha smiled, and the corners of the audience's mouths curled up in an ambiguous arc.

"But I will never stand here and tell you 'he is my soul', 'I can't live without him', 'we are soul mates', 'I'll make him regret whoever dares to think of him Born in this world' or something nasty," Victor sighed. "Although that's the reality."

Applause and roars of laughter sounded at the same time.

Chief Sturluson's cheeks were flushed, but his smirk attracted more attention.

"Wait, I didn't say this to amuse you, I have run out of time, please cooperate! I have to protest to the organizing committee, protesting that they arrange the seats too far, I wasted all my time looking for someone Come on!" Victor said. "The reason why I want to thank Mr. Strulus is because without him, this string of lists that make my mouth numb would become a piece of paper in my robe pocket, and I wouldn't have the time to tell you These words."

The audience laughed louder.

"Thank you to the organizing committee for choosing me," Victor suddenly changed the subject, just as decisive as his playing style. "You also know that the Seekers selected this year are all very good. Every wizard is eligible for it. No one has an advantage over the other. Our starting line is the same."

The reporters who are good at making topics pointed their cameras at the other competitors in the same group on the side of the Quidditch seat. Everyone looked different and thought-provoking, but when facing the camera, they all maintained their dignity. Smile, willing to give blessing applause to the new best Seeker.

Some of them are local idols of the people; At the ceremony, Barnabas Finkley decided to build on the past and set his sights on the younger generation.

"As for whether I am eligible to take it, I will use my entire Quidditch playing career to answer this question." Viktor bowed slightly, turned around and stroked Heimdall's back, and accompanied Dumbledore from left to right left the stage.

The applause behind them lasted for a long time.

After the awards show, the guests will leave the venue under the guidance of the staff and return to the open space outside. At this time, two-meter-high copper lamp poles have been erected around the open space, and the stars are shining on the sky. The lights are brilliant.The original cold dining table in a corner has been expanded into a huge dining table that can provide services for all guests. The dining table is divided into upper, middle and lower floors, and embroidered tablecloths with delicate tassels wrapped with gold and silver threads are laid on it. All kinds of delicacies are placed on the first floor, and the dining table on the top floor is decorated with flowers and plants with hanging shape or opening effect. The elegant fragrance of flowers and the delicacy complement each other. Guests can choose their own drinks, drinks and food.

The newly released winners have become the focus of interviews by major media. The reporters are like well-trained hounds. They are all good at hearing, smell and vision. Scenes of chasing scenes are staged one after another. No winner can stay out of the matter. Even if no one cares about the award you won just now, it really is you who sing and I come on stage.

Victor failed to whisper a few words to Heimdall before he was found and surrounded by hounds. Obviously, Heimdall was not the only one who was the best Seeker tonight.Director Sturluson looked around for a few moments, quickly adjusted his mood, and put all his thoughts on eating and drinking. There were no masters and no vegetables. Director Sturluson smiled happily in front of a large table of meat.

"No, finish your food first." A hand stretched out to stop him from piling up mountains of meat on the plate.

"Why are you here?" Heimdall looked up in surprise.

It was his father Rommel who came.

"A man named Victor Krum told me that if no one is watching, my son is likely to eat too much meat, and warned me that it is bad for health." Rommel firmly moved away The clip in his hand. "So here I am."

"You believe it? Haven't you always been at odds with him?" Mr. Stulusson, who was the only one who couldn't give up Jin Jialong and meat, began to play tricks and sow discord shamelessly.

"If he wasn't talking about you, do you think I would come over?" Rommel pierced through his little trick at a glance.

Director Stuluson looked at the steak on the table with tears streaming down his face, and ate the slices of meat on the plate.

Rommel couldn't laugh or cry, as if he was abusing him.

Rommel picked up a lettuce leaf without any sauce with a fork and brought it to Heimdall's mouth. The latter hesitated for a long time, and swallowed it with his eyes closed like swallowing poison.Rommel quickly found a different kind of pleasure from this monotonous but unfamiliar action, so he continued to work hard. The chief of the Stulusson, who was forced to eat more vegetables than expected, really felt that his father was sent by Merlin to torture him. , in order to make him a vegetarian.

Heimdall shook his hand with a pale face.

"Have you eaten enough?" Rommel put the fork back on the plate.

Heimdall burped, his mouth was full of the smell of vegetable leaves, and his face turned greener.

"Then come with me." Rommel guided him to a certain direction, Heimdall waved goodbye to the two old men who were eating, and Rommel nodded to them.

"Where are you taking me?" Heimdall asked.

"Meet some of my friends." Rommel's tone was very casual.

Heimdall cheered up 12 points.

"Hi Rigg."

Heimdall, who was thinking about something with his head down, stopped, and the shout was very soft. When he thought it was his own illusion, little La Carlini suddenly appeared in front of the right, and walked slowly towards him, with a face on his face. There is no expression, and the eyes are farther away.However, when I passed by him, I heard a joke in my ear, "Congratulations, and, only children like to eat ice cream cones."

Heimdall kept his head down and didn't say a word. Little Lacarini, who kept his expression as indifferent as possible, turned his head in wonder after walking a few steps away. Heimdall suddenly turned his head and stuck out his tongue forcefully at him.

The stunned little Racalini couldn't help but chuckle, and then nervously looked at where his father was standing. After making sure that the other party hadn't noticed, he quickly put on his arms and continued his high-ranking little emperor's true colors.

"When did you hook up?" Rommel's smile was meaningful.

Heimdall didn't understand any disapproval from his words and demeanor, so he boldly said: "I'm trying to get rid of the bottom line, the Lacarlini family has only one heir."

Who knew that Rommel didn't appreciate his humor, and he didn't feel unhappy because of his brazen words. Instead, he showed a thoughtful expression, and Heimdall, who was paying close attention to his father's expression, accidentally caught the fleeting smile on his face. Smiling, casual but chilling.

After a while, his father patted him on the shoulder and said with a smile: "Well done, Dad supports you, come on!" It made him seem to want to put on armor and fight desperately with someone.

Heimdall shrugged and decided to forget the discovery that should not have been made just now.

For this son, Rommel did not have redundant descriptions, and the introduction was concise and concise, leaving a lot of ambiguous concepts again.The wizards have been speculating whether he likes it or not, or whether he cares about the child.Rommel's words and deeds have always been confusing. Say he cares, but he has never seen him take his son out to socialize; say he doesn't care, and he will act angrily when he hears the slightest gossip that is not good for his son. color.

A disgraceful illegitimate child, what else can he do? !This is the point of view most wizards agree with so far, and it seems to provide answers to all questions.

However, Rommel's behavior today is like pouring a basin of water on a sand painting, dampening the canvas, blurring the outline, and collapsing the lines. At this time, the "friends" who thought they had found their way lost their goal again.

Chairman Sturluson, who turned them around, stood aside and watched coldly. Heimdall said, "What do you need me to do?"

"When they don't exist." Rommel was categorical.

Heimdall knew that Rommel had actually been trying his best to protect him from outside influences, otherwise the title of Rommel's son alone would be enough for him to deal with a lot of journalists who were chasing after him, not to mention that he was still a An illegitimate child of unknown mother.Heimdall thought to himself that the headline about the wandering son of a certain British noble family must also be very sensational. Of course, there are even more wonderful and eye-catching ones. imagination.

His two appearances today are enough to wake up the memory of the reporters, and also enough to wake up their persistence in facing difficulties.

"Mr. Sturluson." A lady blocked their way, and Heimdall in front stepped back and made way for her.

"No, I'm looking for you, not Chairman Sturluson." The woman smiled at him gently.

Rommel and the woman nodded, "I'm going to eat something." He decisively left space for them.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Ms. Kosol?" Heimdall asked.

The woman is the presenter of this year's Barnabas Finkley Awards Gala - Yadranka Kosor.

"I wonder if you have time before Christmas?"

Heimdall's face showed a hint of embarrassment, "To be honest, maybe not. I can't make decisions until I graduate. You know that I am a student, and my leisure time is arranged by the school."

"No, no, no, it's not a problem. I mean I can help you fight for it." Ms. Kosor seemed confident.

Heimdall was even more puzzled, "Actually, I still don't quite understand what you mean."

"I joined a children's fund and became its director. Its situation was not ideal last year, but this year it has successfully emerged from the financial crisis and started to operate normally at the beginning of the year."

"Congratulations." Heimdall sent a blessed smile.

"Thank you." Ms. Kosol smiled contentedly. "Our foundation wants to hold a small reward party before Christmas at the end of the year, and I would like to invite you to be the host of the party."

Heimdall was extremely surprised, "Me? The host?"

"It's certainly not as big as Barnabas Finkley, it's just a small party." Ms. Kosor was moved. "I really hope you can come. Your presence will definitely give our children great encouragement. They will be very happy."

"You confuse me, I am Heimdall Sturlusson, just Heimdall Strulusson, why should the children who are helped by your foundation be happy because of me?"

"It's because of you, Heimdall Strulusson," said Ms. Kosor, touching his arm, begging him not to belittle himself. "You once participated in the compilation of a set of textbooks. We are promoting it to magic schools in impoverished areas. Children in our foundation are learning magic through it. Don't you remember?"

"...Oh, my Merlin." Heimdall muttered to himself in a daze.