HP's Foreign Land

Waking up in the warmth of a soft bed is a delight, plus a warm body next to it.Heimdall rolled up the quilt tightly with his eyes closed and rubbed back and forth, trying to find a more comfortable position to sleep in. Victor's sleepy voice sounded in his ears.

"What's the purpose of you flirting around like this?"

Heimdall still closed his eyes, "I'm trying to lie down and fall asleep easily."

Victor's hand moved under the quilt, pulled Heimdall's arm tightly rolled up under the quilt, stopped him by the waist, and brought him to his side. Heimdall opened his eyes with a "hiss". His face was wrinkled into a bun shape.

"What's wrong?" Victor found him stiff.

Heimdall groaned in frustration, "...butt hurts."

"Let me see." Heimdall kicked him under the quilt as he was about to lift the quilt.

"In the drawer of your nightstand over there," Heimdall said.

Victor stared at him for a while, making sure that there was nothing wrong with him, then let go of his hand, turned over to the bedside table, opened the drawer, and saw that it was full of bottles and jars.He picked it up and looked at it, and found that it was useful as well as food.He glanced back at Heimdall. The latter's face was full of pain, and the quilt covering his body was trembling, as if he wanted to find a posture that could relieve the pain.

Not long after, Victor returned to Heimdall. Heimdall opened his eyes, took an uncorked bottle from him, sat up carefully, and drank the medicine in the bottle.

"Merlin!" Heimdall's complexion changed drastically, a big mouthful of the potion choked in his throat and he couldn't get it up, he finally swallowed it, and looked at the bottle in his hand. "What is this? Stinky fish? Or rotten eggs?" Suddenly remembered something, and said with a bitter face, "I haven't brushed my teeth yet!"

While Chief Sturluson was wondering whether he had swallowed a lot of dental plaque, Victor took out the note under the bottle, "There are also some for external use, I'll get you bath water, it says The effect is more pronounced after soaking for an hour."

Heimdall nodded, otherwise he felt that he would not be able to get out of bed.

Lying in the warm water, the bath water mixed with potions wafted a refreshing fragrance, Heimdall sighed comfortably, and stretched his body in the water.

"How is it?" Victor squatted by the bathtub with his toothbrush in his mouth, reached into the water and touched his arm.

Heimdall opened his eyes with a smile, and kissed him on the cheek.

"Very good, very comfortable."

The master grinned, revealing a mouth full of foam.

There was a crackling sound from the window pane next to the bathtub. Heimdall and Victor looked over. A bird with apricot feathers was pecking at the glass with its short beak. When the bird stared over, the bird suddenly realized what it means to see no evil, and flew away in a hurry with a shock of wings.

Heimdall and Victor looked at each other, then smiled at each other.

Heimdall was lying on the edge of the bathtub, looking out through the glass window. The bright sunlight enveloped the town in the valley, like the fragrant oily mayonnaise on the vegetable pie——Director Sturluson swallowed Halazi.

Heimdall looked at it with interest for a moment, then turned around and asked, "What time is it?"

The master got up, went to the sink to spit out the bubbles in his mouth, picked up the robe from the clothes basket, and took out his pocket watch.

"Eleven o'clock."

"It's so late?!" Heimdall made a gesture to get up. "You have to check out at twelve o'clock, and you'll have to pay extra if it's over. If it's less than an hour, it's an hour." Director Sturlusson turned pale with shock.

Victor grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back, "I've already saved time."

Heimdall asked in surprise, "When?"

"Around seven o'clock."

Heimdall blinked, unaware that Victor had left.

"How long have you stored it?"

"To number three."

Heimdall leaned back relaxed after hearing this, but soon he straightened his back, looked at Victor with piercing eyes and said loudly: "Happy New Year! Mr. Krum! I wish you a happy new year! In one year, the Galleons came like a flood!"

like a flood?This coming is a bit too fierce.

The master who was rinsing his mouth was taken aback by the sudden bluff, and nodded his head in tears, waiting for him to spit out the water in his mouth, then turned his head and said with a smile, "Happy New Year."

The potion really worked. Although the legs were still as soft as cotton candy, and every step was like walking on jelly, at least the pain was relieved, and the walking posture became much smoother.

Because of the pain and completely different feelings that he was ashamed to talk about, Heimdall felt a little afraid of exercising on the bed after the real experience.

After hearing what he said, Victor did not show any dissatisfaction or surprise. After serious consideration for a while, he suggested that the posture might be wrong.

Heimdall thought about it for a while, and quickly threw it away. Anyway, they had a lifetime to think about it.

He used the breakfast time—actually, it should be lunch—to discuss the itinerary. Victor wanted him to rest more. Heimdall said that there is no need to worry too much. It is true that he has old arms and legs, but he is restless in his bones. It's boring to be stuck in the house.

After filling their stomachs, they went to the small town in the valley together.

I found a local travel agency to sign up for a one-day tour. The tour guide who picked up individual tourists was not young, but his eyes were sharp. On the street, he stared at them for a long time.Heimdall didn't let himself show the slightest uneasiness and uneasiness, and pretended to look back inexplicably with Victor.Wizards wearing Muggle costumes and blatantly mixing among Muggles will indeed create a sense of disobedience, but most Muggles are muddled when it comes to wizards, and it is rare to meet him with such insight into everything.

Maybe they couldn't figure it out, or maybe they figured something out, the tour guide returned to normal, led them to look around with a smile on his face, and said the commentary repeated many times, walking on the stone road that had accumulated hundreds of years of history, it was too much His booming voice made his pride seem artificial.

Every time we arrive at a place that is said to be an important scenic spot, the tour guide will stop for a moment so that tourists can take pictures.But they completely omitted this process. Victor and Heimdall kept their hands free and looked around with only their eyes. This was discovered when the guide was about to give them time for the first time. The rest of the itinerary passed fast.When they arrived at the end of the trip, a group of tourists from southern Europe who entered the town at about the same time as them had just traveled a third of the way.

Heimdall took out the wallet from the pocket of his clothes, and pressed his fingers hard on the golden surface. The wallet made a slight strange sound, and Heimdall opened the clasp.The tour guide rubbed his eyes. Something flashed past it just now, and a pair of eyes appeared in a trance. When he looked at the wallet carefully, there was nothing there.

After paying the money, the tour guide graciously said that he could take them to another place. Heimdall shook his hand when he heard the implication.Before the tour guide left, he took a careful look at Victor, as if he was a little afraid of the expressionless master.Victor just didn't know how to get along with Muggles. He was not as easy to deal with as Heimdall. Since he didn't want to make mistakes, he simply didn't say a word, said less and made less mistakes.

After the tour guide left, Victor completely relaxed.

They walked through the streets and alleys along the long and narrow passages. The roads here are criss-crossed and intertwined. Occasionally, you can see a gray-haired old woman sitting under the eaves under the eaves, squinting and dozing; Groups of three or four hurried past; men sat on the roadside coffee seats, chatting or puffing smoke; a few little ones were surrounded by toys in their hands and chattered together; agile wild cats leaped lightly from the fork in the alley , I don't know where to go in a blink of an eye.

The sun quietly changed its direction, and the reflection projected on the place tilted slowly, and the sharp outline gradually blurred.

They found a small theater in a corner of the town, and Heimdall went in to find out, and then the two stayed there, watching a stage play adapted from an ancient local legend.An old-fashioned love story, imitating the pathos of Romeo and Juliet, but it feels too logical, the process is straightforward and tortuous, and the result is naturally unsatisfactory. The two protagonists who are desperate for love lose their lives one after another.When the tear-jerking music played in the last scene, a sentimental lady sitting on the left of Heimdall was crying sobbingly. The continuous sobs around her made Mr. Strulusson, who was still ignorant of the theme of the play, restless for a while.

Heimdall looked at Victor, and Victor also looked at him—the master probably didn't appreciate it very much, and they stood up at the same time.

"Let's go back." Heimdall's eyebrows twitched.

The phonograph in the living room came in handy. Victor took out the record and studied it for a long time, and finally chose a cheerful little chorus that should not make Heimdall feel drowsy immediately.Victor moved the needle, and clear music sounded in the room.

Heimdall, who was sitting on the sofa, was eating the cornflakes he bought from the town, and turned to give him a big smile.Victor walked over to him and sat down next to him, unable to take his eyes off him an inch.

"Do you want to eat?" Heimdall took the box wrapped in tin foil, but Victor leaned over to hold his lips, and easily stuck his tongue in. After a while, he left Heimdall's lips, smash it Mouth a few times.

"It's okay."

Heimdall wiped his lips, "Are you disgusted?"

"You feel sick?"

Heimdall didn't speak, looking very reserved.

Victor curled his lips, "I thought your reserve was left under the bed last night."

Heimdall gave him a blank look.

Victor put his arms around his shoulders and whispered in his ear, "When you are on summer vacation, we will go to Montenegro. Daisy's horn house is very close to the sea. Bernick told me that there is a small piece of beautiful beach connected there. Their home, no one else can enjoy it. We will go there for vacation some other day, lying on the beach, listening to the sound of the waves, making love under the stars."

Because of his description, Heimdall's chewing movements suddenly became more intense, his squirrel-like cheeks squirmed, his eyes were wide open, and his small eyes were very bright.When he came into contact with Victor's knowing smiling eyes, he immediately turned his eyes away seemingly calmly, and returned to the reserved posture of a good boy who would be spurned for a long time by touching his little hands.

Victor was amused by his small appearance, he laughed and kissed him hard a few times.

"Stop pretending, I know you'll like it."

"who said it!"

"you will like it."

"...Don't be so arbitrary!"

"You like it."

Heimdall stuffed a piece of corn flakes into his mouth, and said vaguely: "...Well, well, I might like it."

Viktor laughed again.

Thinking of seeing the long, red scratches on Victor's back in the bathroom during the day... Director Sturluson hurriedly stuffed cornflakes into his mouth again, trying to suppress the turmoil in his heart.He looked down at his fingers hesitantly, the manicured bare nails, scraped in the palm of his hand, there was no sharp angle that made the skin feel uncomfortable, it was hard to believe that he actually made the master's back so, um, thought-provoking.

"What are you thinking?" Victor leaned closer and opened his mouth to bite off the cornflakes he was holding.

Heimdall came back to his senses, and said with a serious face, "I heard that the Quidditch League plans to reorganize the overall strength list before the start of the Champions Cup. Does this mean that the current ranking will not count?"

"How do you know?" Victor lay down and rested his head on Heimdall's lap. "It hasn't been made public yet."

"I have my sources of information." Heimdall said triumphantly, and then honestly explained the problem under Victor's suspicious gaze.

Victor took a moment to think about it, and he was sure that he didn't know the Palme of the Iron Parrot.

"Why do you want him?" Heimdall wrapped his fingers around Victor's hair. "He doesn't like players with higher achievements than him. In other words, being envied by him means that he is better than him. This person must have obsessive-compulsive disorder."

Victor grinned. "I was a guest host on a radio show with their goalie at the end of last year."

"The keeper of the Iron Parrot?"

"Well, it's a lunch program with a lighter theme, introducing anecdotes about Quidditch from various places."

"Why didn't I know?!" Director Strulusson, who considered himself a loyal fan of Weiwei, couldn't sit still.

"The school can't listen to the radio."

"...That's right, the school can't listen to the radio." Heimdall collapsed back in frustration.

"Steel Parrot is a strong team, and it has been established for a long time. In the past, they pursued the traditional style of playing defense-oriented and waiting for opportunities to go to the opponent's rear to break through. They have won a lot of success by relying on their steady style of play and indestructible defense. High achievements, the best result on the comprehensive strength list is the fourth in the world. In recent years, the performance is not good, especially after 90 years, the steel parrot, which blindly focuses on defense, is top-heavy and unable to fly."

Heimdall showed a pensive expression, "The former veteran teams are all facing the dilemma of transformation. The speed of the Quidditch world is changing faster than the speed of swallow-tailed dogs swallowing goblins. They will either be eliminated or others will be eliminated. The competition is brutal."

Victor took his hand, and they interlocked their fingers.

"Do you still remember a team called the Cactus? Every time they played, their fans would have a bottle of ginger ale. After winning, they would open the cap and pour the soda in unison while screaming." ask.

"...Ginger cactus from Scotland?"

"Yeah, when I was six years old, it was still booming. As long as they played, they would definitely win. I remember that the whole street of Diagon Alley was covered with their posters from the broom shop to the robe shop. The shopkeepers are proud to talk about their impressive record, and what happened afterwards, when I went to school in Durmstrang, the British wizards can't remember ever having such a team that almost drove the whole of England into madness. Create In less than five years, he won the championship of all domestic competitions in the UK and entered the European powerhouse league for the first time. After the end of the first quarter of the league, he ranked second in total points. Before the start of the second season, the team owner announced the disbandment of the team. "

Heimdall had a face full of condemnation, "At that time, I just became interested in Quidditch, I bought a detachable Seeker toy, and I also bought a deformed badge with the Ginger Cactus team logo on it, which would create wind when I waved it. Howling colored bats, and, of course, ginger ale, and they paid me off by disbanding."

Victor couldn't help laughing, "Whether you buy those things has nothing to do with whether the team disbands or not. Even if you don't buy anything, it will not hinder their disbandment plan."

Heimdall cast a lifeless glance.

"The taste of the ginger ale is very connotative. The taste in it can only be understood but cannot be expressed in words. The taste buds of those admirers must be rotten." Heimdall sighed.

"I like to drink coffee." The master raised his hand to touch Heimdall's cheek.

Heimdall chuckled, "Can you communicate with the head of your fan club, and make a grand occasion where thousands of people gather to drink coffee?"

"I like your coffee," said Victor.

"Okay, then we will howl together." Such a scene flashed in his mind, and Heimdall couldn't help laughing.

Victor's fingers came to Heimdall's mouth, his fingertips gently tracing the outline of his lips.Heimdall grabbed the hand and leaned over to kiss Victor's face.

"I'll give you a chance to correct yourself." Victor raised the corner of his mouth.

Heimdall distanced himself, looked down for a moment with a half-smile, then lowered himself again, rubbing his lips against his.Victor's hands wrapped around his neck, fingers running back and forth between his neck, and they opened their mouths almost at the same time, deepening the kiss.After a while, Heimdall looked up and saw Victor looking at him intently.

"Let's go to bed early today." Victor turned his eyes and scanned the room casually, not knowing when the phonograph had died out.

"Are you sure?" Heimdall pretended to be surprised.

Victor turned his gaze back to his face, and said calmly, "While picking the fruit, we must not forget to water and fertilize it for adequate maintenance."

A certain fruit tree suddenly erupted in embarrassment.

Meimei had a good night's sleep, and the next morning, facing the bright and jumping morning light, Heimdall stretched on the bed, with a happy smile on his face with his eyes closed.

"Good morning." Victor walked into the room and smiled at him from the edge of the bed.

"Morning." Heimdall opened his eyes, and was used to the reality that the master would always wake up earlier than himself no matter what time he opened his eyes. "Have you gone out?" His eyes flicked over his neat attire.

"Riding a broom for a while."

"Is there a broom here?" Heimdall got up and jumped out of bed.

There is a broom in the corner cabinet by the door of the hotel. It is not a racing model, but it is a high-end product according to the level of household brooms.Heimdall and Victor gave up the tandem brooms, each picked a handy one, and together they dragged the ball box out of the house and onto the grass outside the house.

They opened the lid and found that the balls were of different colors and models, and they looked like they were put together improvised.Each of them picked up a bat, and Heimdall turned the short light brown bat in his hand. A row of silver writing on the embossed pattern on the handshake flashed in front of his eyes. He turned the bat upside down and took a closer look at the light. , turned around and grabbed Victor, who was also looking at the bat in his hand.

"Look!" He handed the bat to the other party as if offering a treasure. "Rickon Grizzlies' bat, signed by Iss Kearley!"

The Reiken Grizzlies are a Quidditch team active in the mid-nineteenth century. The biggest feature of this team is that each player is an all-around player who can play independently in all positions.Is Kearley was the most talked about chaser in that period. His moody personality created his treacherous and changeable offensive routes. His favorite thing to do was to catch the enemy players who intercepted him off guard. Hit the goal post.While he's often identified as a Chaser, he also excels in the Hitter's position, and if the bat was actually used by Kyle Lay...

In the eyes of Mr. Strulusson, this is the golden gallon in the shape of a bat.

Another major feature of the Grizzlies is that they wear exaggerated and terrifying roaring bear hats every time they play. It is said that they can really bark.The game rules in that era were relatively lenient. Unlike now, one could only enter the arena wearing uniforms recognized by the competition, otherwise one would be immediately disqualified from the competition.Most of the bear-headed hats that drove the grizzly bear trend back then have entered the museums under the Quidditch League, and the scattered ones have also entered the collection cabinets of rich people.Sometimes what you see in the store is also a counterfeit, and the chance of being genuine is less than [-]%.

Victor handed over his other too, "Salpamas sparrow feather."

Heimdall took it in surprise, and the words flying golden sparrow feathers on the top of the bat glistened in the sunlight.

Sarpa Masquerade is a team established in the early twentieth century. It is still active in the Quidditch world, but it has been downgraded from professional to amateur.This women's army, composed of all female players, also had outstanding records and was invincible.Known for his outstanding adaptability, he likes to constantly change formations during the game, adapt to the opponent's lineup and dispatch as quickly as possible, and then interfere with the opponent's rhythm through the change of formation, so as to grasp the initiative and lead the overall situation.

Heimdall looked at the two bats in silence for a moment, then crouched by the box and groped for a while, then raised his head with tears streaming down his face.

"Let's check out now, take this box with us, and sell it the same every year. Even if we don't do anything, we can live comfortably for many years."

Victor laughed, and squatted down to watch Mr. Sturluson mutter to a faded Quaffle by the side of the box.

"Still fighting?" Victor said.

Heimdall picked up a bat and stood up, boldly shouldering the bat on his shoulders, raised his chin, and pointed his nostrils at the master.

"Give it up, Mr. Kroom!"

A miniature field was opened up near the hotel, with a golden goal on each side, surrounded by a circle of stones. At first glance, it looks decent, especially the two golden goalposts, which are brighter than those of the German school.

Heimdall couldn't help touching it, clamped the bat under his elbow, and rubbed his hands superstitiously.

Two people can't play a ball game either, they use two Bludgers and a Quaffle, and whoever throws the most balls into the opponent's goal wins, not forgetting the Bludgers flying around.Heimdall flew on a broom to the big timing clock next to the court to set the time, with rounds every 3 minutes.

In the first round, Victor took the ball and shot, and Heimdall interfered.

Maybe he underestimated the enemy, maybe he deliberately let the water go, but after 3 minutes, the master didn't make a single shot.Heimdall quit, waving his stick and yelling, "It's not worth it, start over!"

Victor dodged a Bludger that was arcing in the air and flew over to get the bat. "At first, I really wanted to release water."

Heimdall glanced at him, and when he realized it, he became overwhelmed, and nodded repeatedly, "See, if I also enter this industry, I must be a capable person."

In the Quidditch world, there is also a different kind of player who wins people's hearts by their outstanding appearance, which is the so-called idol group.These types of players rarely actually play, and the team keeps them purely for publicity, and posters with good faces are more marketable.

"I knew about the sugar mouse at the time." Victor said kindly, holding him in his arms.

The triumphant Mr. Stulusson entered the field with great pride, and 3 minutes later he went down to the sidelines in despair.

As expected of a professional, he played too slickly, and he was also competent in positions other than his own job.

Heimdall had a bitter face, and he didn't score a single goal, but compared to the previous game, Victor easily whipped him like a mouse, except for dodging the Bludgers all over the field in surprise, There is no way at all, and even the goal cannot be approached, so he can only hover in front of his own goal. Several times he almost staged a big own goal that even brought a broom over the goal.

Heimdall was out of breath, wiping the sweat off his face with his sleeve.Except for the little beads of sweat on his forehead, the master didn't show any signs of being tired, and his breathing was painfully slow.

"Are you still playing?" Victor smiled slightly.

"Stop playing, it's too fantastic to want to compete with you in Quidditch."

Victor took his bat, quickly packed up the Bludgers that the two were crazy about, and locked all the equipment back into the box.

When they carried the box back, Heimdall asked, "Did you just fool me? To make me underestimate the enemy." It's really old and bad.

"I kid you not, you're really good as a batsman, very tricky to target, but not as a chaser."

Heimdall knew that he was being polite, so it was more than "a little bit worse", in other words, he was more suitable for Yin people? !

Chief Sturluson returned to the room with a pensive expression.

The setting sun took away the last twilight, Victor brought dinner from outside the door, the room service of the hotel was always on time, they never knocked on the door, they just put the things that the guests might need on the shelf by the door— —Heimdall realized that the shelf at the door was not for storing shoes.

They spent the afternoon in bed, at first just because Heimdall was too lazy to move, then Victor went to bed too, then rambling conversations, and when their limbs entangled, Heimdall Still can't figure out how this happened.This sex was very soothing, maybe he was afraid that he would be unwell, Victor was very careful during the whole process, they tried a few new positions, the unfamiliarity was unavoidable, and sometimes it made the other party feel uncomfortable, the funniest one was that they were not sure At a certain distance, the noses of the two collided, and when they fell down, they hit the headboard of the bed again, with a frightening bang, and Heimdall yelled out in pain.

After that, the two laughed at the same time for a long time, feeling that all this was very funny, and the tenderness that was urgently needed was almost wiped away by this collision.

Compared with the intense sex that makes the brain paralyzed and happy, Heimdall prefers to lie with Victor who does nothing. It may be the different touch brought by the aftertaste, and the inexplicable feeling that gushes out of the body It made Heimdall extremely intoxicated, and he didn't know how to position this feeling.

"Don't just pick meat." Victor glanced at it and said slowly.

The fork paused, hesitantly moved to the stew, picked up a piece of celery, and chewed it with an expression like eating poison.

"Go straight to school tomorrow?" Victor asked.

"I made an appointment with Hina to see you on the 5th, and I will stay in Mumian Town for another two days."

After they finished eating, Victor took away the plates, and Heimdall put on a robe and went to the living room, took out Jolf's manuscript and looked through it, Jolf is obviously a master of language, but the viewing process was not long Very hard.

Victor sat down beside him, holding a thick and large book in his hand. Heimdall glanced at it, but didn't understand the words on the cover. Victor leaned on the back of the sofa, holding the book in one hand, He hooked Heimdall's neck with one hand, and fiddled with Heimdall's earlobe with his fingers.

After finally reading a page, Heimdall wailed and covered the manuscript on his face.

Victor turned his face amusedly, "Beforehand, I won't translate for you." From the master's point of view, it would be better to take this opportunity to learn more languages.Heimdall always has a mediocre mentality in some aspects, as long as he doesn't force him to the door, he will absolutely turn a blind eye.

Heimdall removed the manuscript from his face, bared his teeth at him, then leaned over to kiss his upturned lips.Victor enjoyed it for a while, and then took the initiative to escalate the tender kiss into a deep kiss that made both of them gasp.Heimdall put down the manuscript and straddled him.

"What did you just say?" Heimdall picked up the big, unintelligible book and looked at it seemingly indifferently.

"I said..." Victor's voice became low, and a half-hard erection rubbed against Heimdall's buttocks. Heimdall's throat tightened, and he immediately looked at him with wide eyes. "Maybe you can think of a way to do me some good." Victor finished the sentence.

Heimdall swallowed, then leaned forward, letting their bodies snuggle together.

When checking out the next day, Heimdall looked hesitantly at the messy big bed, and resisted the idea of ​​using magic to make the bed a new one. He was reluctant to part with the donkey leather bag that was a little bigger than the day he checked in. He stepped out of the door and left the hotel.

They were walking on the long and narrow green path, and Heimdall looked back frequently. The master thought he didn't live enough.

"Come again if you have a chance." Victor squeezed his hand.

Heimdall said with embarrassment that he was actually reluctant to part with Gold Galleons, so much money was gone in a blink of an eye. To put it bluntly, he bought this condescending location, just like buying a house in the city in his previous life.

"It's because of your birthday that I decided to come." Director Sturlusson is usually relatively stingy with himself.

Victor smiled lazily, "According to what you said, I hope to celebrate my birthday every day." He didn't hide his yearning.

"It's vulgar!" Heimdall gave him an angry look.

It is a unique experience to be scolded as vulgar by Director Strulusson.

The master laughed and tightened his arms.

Follow the itinerary when you come, the end point is still Helsinki Station.

"I checked the price, and the fare to school from here is lower than Reykjavik." Heimdall walked into the station excitedly.

Just as he was going to the stables to choose a favorite Pegasus horse, Duoduo suddenly appeared.

It bowed deeply to Heimdall, "Master is waiting for you in the lounge."

"Father is here too?" Heimdall hurriedly turned to the tea room in the station. After entering the door, he saw Rommel leaning against the bar, holding a glass of wine, talking to the wizard inside the bar.Rommel seemed to feel something, turned his head, and their eyes met.

Heimdall grinned.

Rommel cut off the conversation with the bartender and walked towards him.

"Happy New Year, Dad." Heimdall said with a smile.

"Well, happy new year." After that, Rommel turned to Victor. "Looks good, Krum."

Heimdall turned his eyes to look elsewhere unnaturally. His father's words were obviously very normal, but there was a sense of meaning in his ears.

"Happy New Year, Rommel." The master was much calmer than him.