HP's Foreign Land

one,

After dinner, the three of them plus a child wandered the streets.

When I first arrived in Paris, there were still a few thick clouds floating above my head, but now it has dissipated, and the sun lit up the bustling Paris Wick Street—one of the famous wizarding commercial streets in France—a variety of goods are carefully arranged by the shopkeepers Under the brilliance.

From time to time, owls, bats, and unnamed magnificent birds fly overhead, and the magical effect is like fireworks in the summer night sky, unceremoniously occupying the sight of passers-by.From time to time, Mionir looked up and looked around, his small mouth opened wide in curiosity.

Carlo was buried in the notepad in his hand as he walked, still worrying about how to report the Tianma carriage incident, and the red quill suspended by his side drew two strokes on the notepad from time to time.

A loud noise exploded in the ear, and Heimdall and Carlo, who were holding the child, were distracted by other things and failed to react in time. Then there was another vibration that was more piercing than before.When the two came back to their senses, they stopped unconsciously.

There is an old phonograph on the side of the road, with a huge horn facing passers-by. Judging from the strange orientation of the horn, it may swing by itself like a fan.However, at this time, the loudspeaker was precariously tilted aside, the stylus broke, and the fragments scattered all over the ground, and the vinyl disc was emitting black smoke.

Draco, who was holding his wand, made a bitter face in embarrassment, and the owner of the small shop ran out with an ugly face, and then cried to Draco like his dead parents.

"What happened? What happened?" Heimdall asked.

After hearing what he said, the shopkeeper babbled a lot like complaining, and Heimdall didn't understand a single word.

Carlo frowned.

Draco said awkwardly, "This speaker will spray something out, I didn't check it for a while, it just became like this..."

The gramophone placed on the side of the road is not harmful to passers-by, and the shopkeeper will not cause trouble for himself if he has nothing to do.This phonograph usually does not make any sound, but the purpose of beeping once in a while is to scare passers-by and force them to stop, followed by unexpected magical effects from the speaker.A group of colorful hummingbirds came towards Draco and the others just now. Draco subconsciously regarded it as a "thousand bullets", and immediately drew out his wand, not only using a sharper defense - armor protection, but also In order to fight back, he blew up the gramophone.

The first thought that flashed in Heimdall's mind was that his cousin had shown mercy, and if he had done it himself, the phonograph would be a puddle of powder now.

The owner is still howling.

Carlo curled his lips, didn't he just want to extort money, and just about to say something, Heimdall spoke first.

"Let it recover."

The shopkeeper's howling sound was a little softer, and at an angle that people couldn't see, his eyeballs rolled roguely, and there was no water in his eyes, but they were alive.

The implication of Heimdall's words is to accuse him of making a fuss out of a molehill.

"Since we broke it, I'll fix it." Heimdall handed the child to Carlo to hold him—Mionir was too young, and the place was crowded, so he didn't dare to let him go to the ground.

Draco wanted to come by himself, but Heimdall stopped him.

"Occasionally, I should let my cousin show off."

Seeing that the two of them did not intend to blame at all, Draco had a smile on his face again.

Carlo grinned, showing his white teeth.He said to the shopkeeper who had forgotten how to cry: "Don't underestimate him, he is the best at repairing things, we all know it!"

After understanding Carlo's words, Heimdall couldn't help but laugh, as if he always smashed things.

In fact, Carlo's joke was not just a joke. Director Sturlusson did a lot of tinkering when he was at school, some of which were paid for by various research laboratories, and the rest were repairing objects in his own research laboratory.Starting from scratch, adding up little things, Director Strulusson's tinkering ability is second to none in the German school.

"Restore to original" is very quick to use, and the effect is also very quick.

All the parts that collapsed on the ground returned to the main body, and the crooked speaker was straightened; the stylus was rotated comfortably and put aside; the vinyl disc was erected and inserted back into the cardboard bag.

The wizards onlookers applauded one after another, as if watching a wonderful street performance.

Someone booed, "See if it works!"

Immediately there was tittering in the crowd.

After listening to Carlo's translation, Heimdall waved his wand, and the vinyl disc fell back onto the phonograph again. The stylus moved, but the sound didn't come out, and the speakers sprayed flowers, birds, birds and dolls.When the onlookers discovered that these playthings were not fakes, they fell to the ground and turned into real ones, and there was an uproar.

The shopkeeper yelled angrily, "Don't grab it, don't grab it! It's something from our shop, don't grab it!" He rushed into the noisy crowd.

"It seems that we have nothing to do," Carlo said.

The three and a child fled quickly.

two,

Watched several refereeing simulation courses in the referee center, and listened to a report on the line referee by a gold star referee, and the whole morning passed like that.When Victor realized that it was already past the lunch break, he was in the Quidditch League at this time—preparing for tomorrow's amateur match.

After thinking for a while, he put down his work and came to the staff cafeteria.

It's not even afternoon tea time, and the lunch break has just passed, so there are very few people in the cafeteria at this time.

Victor carried hot tea and a small portion of vegetable noodles and walked towards the east seat, where the window could see the sparkling river. When he passed a table, the chattering of the ladies sitting around the table caught his attention. He slowed down.

They are speaking French.

The witch sitting on the west seat has wine-red curly hair, a bright smile, lively conversation, and a slightly flirtatious demeanor—she seems to be the one who started the topic of France, and she is in high spirits at the moment, speaking clearly and logically; The old witch's hair was neatly pulled back into a helmet shape, a pair of small round glasses were placed on the bridge of her nose, her back was straight, and she seemed to attach great importance to her upbringing, and her every move was well-behaved; the witch sitting in the south sat leisurely and quietly. Watching the two people come and go, tit for tat, and occasionally say a sentence or two to link the past and the future.

Victor noticed that they were all staff members of the Quidditch League. They might be in charge of the data files. Now is the most critical time of the season. The archives department became relatively idle.

The witch with burgundy curly hair said enthusiastically: "I plan to find an opportunity to ask for leave from the director later, if I don't make it today, I will lose a lot!"

"Beautiful thinking! Don't forget that there are still a lot of score sheets at the end of the season waiting for us to review, don't try to be lazy!" It was the witch wearing glasses who said this.

"Aren't you tempted? If you miss this time, you don't know when the next time will be!"

The spectacled witch was indifferent, "I think I can survive until the next election."

The one who didn't speak couldn't help laughing.

The burgundy curly hair shouted angrily, "I don't believe that you will be interested in participating in the next election."

The spectacled witch shrugged, "That's right, I'm not interested at all."

The burgundy curly hair jumped up, "I'll go by myself!" Turning his head, he met the gaze of someone who was listening to the wall upright, and his eyes widened involuntarily, with an embarrassed expression on his face.

Master Krum was extremely calm, and smiled at her as if nothing had happened.

The curly wine red hair instantly blushed.

"I didn't bother you, did I?" Victor said.

The burgundy curly hair couldn't wait to say: "No!"

Her two colleagues glanced at each other.

"Are you talking about the selection of Mister Magic?" Victor asked again.

Indeed, she was the only one talking.

The burgundy curly hair couldn't help touching his hair, his voice was incredibly soft.

"Yes, there will be a Mr. Magic selection event in Paris today. I heard that all the candidates will be present. We are busy with work and can't go... so we are trying to find a way."

In fact, she was the only one who was enthusiastic about it from the beginning to the end, and her colleagues were very loyal and did not expose her.

"It's a pity." Victor followed her words.

The burgundy curly hair seems to think that he has been recognized, and he looks very excited.

"I won't bother you anymore." Victor nodded friendly to them, and walked away with his things.

The eyes with wine red curly hair followed his back for a long time.

As the master walked, those words were hiding in his mind like a golden snitch in a game, popping up from time to time to attract attention, and you just couldn't do anything about it for a while.

【Mr. Magic Election will be held】

[Candidates will arrive in the morning

【Paris……】

Director Sturluson's eyes were shining, his cheeks were flushed, and the image of him staring intently at the coquettish and smirking males flashed before his eyes.

The master speeded up his meal.

three,

At this time, Heimdall was looking up at a store sign with a face full of disbelief. The signboard was painted with a layer of gold paint, and the four corners were polished to a bright spot. Three languages ​​were solemnly used: French, English, and Spanish. The level of brilliance is comparable to that of the majestic Gringotts Wizarding Bank outside No. [-].

The sign read: Blueleg Potions Store

He ignorantly followed Draco and Carlo and pushed the door in. The decoration style of the store was beyond imagination, not the dark and mysterious style that potions stores are used to. The lines are simple and the colors are bright and bold. It looks very fashionable. All the cabinets have been polished to shine, the large circular windows are full of light, and the bright and bright furnishings make people yearn for it.

Leon next to the shelf turned around - he was entertaining guests, and when he saw them, he showed a slight smile on his face.

Immediately he murmured his apologies to his guests and walked quickly towards them.

"Leon Leon, you surprised me so much, you made a fortune by keeping silent." Heimdall shook his head and laughed.

"Are you to blame me for stealing your limelight, just let me do it, I'll only show off once." Leon countered, and then laughed too.

"Remember this uncle, baby?" Heimdall said to Mionir in his arms.

Mionier nodded under the gaze of several pairs of eyes.

"Uncle Leon." His voice was crisp and clear.

Leon's grin widened.

"We brought them." Carlo and Draco were busy claiming credit.

Heimdall suddenly realized, "No wonder you walk so fast, and you falter when I ask you."

"I have a surprise for you." Draco said with a chuckle.

Heimdall put his son on the ground, and the little doll was a little cautious in an unfamiliar environment, and held on to his hand.

"Come on, Mionir, uncle will take you around." Draco led Mionir to play.

Heimdall expressed surprise at his familiarity.

"I met your cousin by chance. The store hadn't opened at that time. I just arrived in Paris not long ago. I was looking at the shop on this street." Leon waved his hand, and the tea tray floated over, with drinks and snacks on it. .

"How did Carlo find out?" Heimdall asked.

"I run back and forth on this street every week, and the changes in each store can't escape my eyes." Carlo said vigorously.

Heimdall took a mug of warm pumpkin juice.

"Why did you suddenly decide to open a shop?" Heimdall took a sip.

"It wasn't a sudden decision, it was already in the plan, but it felt like the time was ripe."

Heimdall raised his glass, "Anyway, congratulations."

"Thank you." Leon clinked glasses with him.

"Mr. Blueleg." The previous guest circled around and returned.

Leon immediately said, "What else do you need?"

The guest glanced at Leon, and then froze for a moment.

Heimdall looked surprised: "Mr. Beru?"

This person is Maurice Bellou, the grandson of Luc Juncker, the current French Mister Magic who is about to expire.

Beru rolled his mouth, "I didn't expect to meet you here, Mr. Stulusson."

"Hello," Heimdall said.

"Are you here to buy potions too?" Beru asked.

Heimdall couldn't believe that he hadn't noticed it just now, maybe he had recognized him long ago.

He smiled calmly, "I am a friend of the owner, Mr. Blueleg, and we are here to join you. Are you here for shopping?"

"I just wander around casually." Beru said lightly.

Heimdall had nothing in common with him, and was almost treated as a fat sheep by him before. If Junker hadn't come forward to ease the situation afterwards, they would never have talked face to face calmly like they do now.

"Oh." Heimdall nodded.

Carlo was the one who couldn't stand the silence, and immediately said: "Mr. Beru is here to cheer for the election?"

"Election activities?" Heimdall asked suspiciously.

"There is a canvassing activity for Mister Magic candidates in Paris today." After all, the person who can be elected as Mister Magic with a majority of votes has a smooth inner nature. Beru first answered Heimdall's questions, and then told Carlo, "The purpose is to add to the fun." one."

Carlo immediately began to write in the small notebook.

"You are..." As a public figure, Beru is sensitive to certain actions.

"You must not offend him," Heimdall joked. "This is a reporter from the Mercury News."

Carlo rubbed his nose in embarrassment, "Apprentice, apprentice."

However, Beru's fighting factor was fully activated at that moment, and his whole person's temperament changed drastically, his face was radiant and shining, and the three young people who hadn't seen each other were stunned like fools.

Heimdall thought to himself that he was indeed the grandson of the old peacock, just like a small peacock.

At this time, Draco came back from a walk with Mionir.

Heimdall made an introduction for them. Draco often traveled to France, and he was no stranger to Mr. Magic's campaign. He was already familiar with Maurice Beru, who was in the newspaper every day.He didn't feel too much about the masculine charm, he just expressed the joy of seeing a star in a very ordinary way - the cousin gradually understood the tactful life.

Beru was a little frightened when he saw the well-behaved and quiet Mionier.

The reason……

Heimdall said confidently to his son, "Honey, my name is Brother Beru."

The other three looked at Beru together, their eyes were indescribably subtle.

Beru's radiant face darkened immediately, he gritted his teeth and thought, he must have done it on purpose!

four,

The three of them and one child got into the center of the event unimpeded because of Beru—the opening of Leon's new store, and they couldn't get out, otherwise they would be squeezed like enthusiastic wizards outside, with red-eyed eyes.

"French witches are too scary." Draco looked terrified.

About 80.00% of the wizards who are constantly performing screams are women, and their fanaticism stunned the males who stayed out of it.

"It's not just the French witches, many people came from abroad to help their supporters." Beru, who explained the mystery to them, couldn't help raising his eyebrows.

It can be seen that the selection of Mister Magic in France has touched the hearts of millions of witches.

"Inside is the rest area for the candidates, I'll take you to have a look." Beru treated the young people as big-headed goblins who had never seen the world.

The three young people glanced at each other quickly and accepted Beru's arrangement.

Heimdall has a purpose.

The passage was very narrow, and wizards wearing all kinds of exaggerated and eye-catching wizard robes kept running around. Heimdall and his party kept making way for others, and their speed became very slow.

Every time he passed a room, Beru would whisper to them a few words about the candidate's life in relation to the name on the door plate.The sharpness of the words and the richness of emotion even Mr. Carlo Jones can't help himself.

They stood outside a half-open cherry wood door, and the inside of the door seemed very quiet at first glance, unlike the quarreling or drumming they had seen before.Several people couldn't help stretching their necks to look around.

"This one……"

The venomous Beru paused for an unprecedented moment, "To be honest, I am not a judge, but my opinions will be selectively adopted by the judges. I don't want to cover anyone, but personal tendencies are unavoidable. This 107 Mr No. is by far one of my favorite candidates."

"Mr. Beru?" Came a gentle voice with some doubts.

Someone came out of the door, and Beru nodded kindly to him.

Heimdall looked belatedly at the door panel, which read: Pascal Kretch.

"We meet again." Craig's eyes fell on Heimdall.

Beru smiled playfully, "Do you know each other?"

"We rode in the same carriage," said Craig.

Carlo looked at this for a while, then glanced at that for a while, and couldn't help but whispered to Draco.

"Do you know this person?"

"Rig arrived in Paris in the same carriage as him." Draco had a gossip in his bones. "Frequently courting Rigg, who has children, I tried a few times with more frustration and courage during the time I saw him, but my cousin refused mercilessly."

Carlo was not surprised.

Although Rigg likes to look at beautiful and attractive men, and can flirt obscenely all morning on the cover of a gentleman's magazine, once he really encounters a real "contact", he will definitely turn around and run away without hesitation.Thinking of this, Carlo's teeth itch, and he hopes that Krum will keep his own place for the rest of his life, otherwise he will be the first to jump out to support Rieger and Krum in divorcing property.

What Draco thought of was the "Craig's Smile" that he happened to witness at the terminal, and he seemed to understand why Beru was optimistic about him.Such an appearance doesn't fascinate the group of crazy women outside, right?Master Malfoy was both envious and jealous.

"Would you like to come in and have a sit?" Craig opened the door of the lounge.

The serenity in the house was in sharp contrast to the sizzling heat behind them. In fact, several people were eager to take a break in the cozy atmosphere—clean walls, comfortable sofas, soft carpets, and delicious drinks.

Both Draco and Carlo looked at Heimdall, who shook his head.

Still, Craig was a nice guy.

"You guys are not in a hurry, are you?" Craig tried to persuade him to stay.

At this time, Mionier, who had been silent all this time, suddenly drew a stroke of genius.

He waved to Craig and said, "Goodbye."

Carlo and Draco hurriedly looked away, and the other quickly looked at the ground.

"Sorry, this child has a great memory, please don't take it to heart." Heimdall apologized.

The tone and expression are particularly devout.

Craig smiled wryly.

Beru couldn't help but laugh.

"Look, look, who did I see?!" A tall figure approached and stood behind Heimdall.

Mionier turned around and smiled happily.

"Duncan!"

"Yes, it's me." Duncan took the child from Heimdall's hand with a smile on his face, and kissed his face vigorously. "Little Knight, how are you?"

Mionier took out the glass bottle from his pocket, opened it as a gesture, and gave it to Duncan to eat.

Mr. Orville was greatly moved.

Heimdall was speechless when he saw the bottle of cheap cream balls that was fooled into the Osmanthus Valley station. Fortunately, Duncan didn't like to eat these, so he declined Mionir's kindness.Mionir didn’t give Duncan bad food on purpose, but because he likes Duncan, he shared the bad food to show that everyone is his own, just like he always likes to give a toy with a broken leg to Haim Dahl is a truth.

The kid's logic can be very "sharp" at times.

After playing around with Mionir for a while, Duncan turned his head and smiled brightly at the young men.

"Come here to cheer me up?"

Draco and Carlo nodded.

Carlo said: "I will cheer for you together with your aunt." Duncan's aunt is Carlo's stepmother.

"I'm not," Heimdall said honestly. "I didn't know there was this event at first, and it was only when I saw you that I remembered your existence."

Duncan's dramatic handsome face collapsed.

Having said that, Beru thought that Heimdall had been looking around not knowing what he was looking for since Heimdall came in just now, and now he has the answer.

"Are you on stage? What are you canvassing for?" Heimdall asked.

This is the difference between acquaintances and strangers.

Beru glanced at Krech, who did not change his face, and the latter's demeanor was impressive.

"Mr. Beru." Duncan seemed to see Beru just now.

Beru didn't take it to heart. Generally speaking, Maurice Beru is not a narrow-minded person, and this is nothing to worry about.

"Hello, Duncan, looks good." Beru responded.

Duncan grinned, dazzling with the light and heat of the South of France.

Everyone moved to Duncan's lounge.

"Do you have a bad relationship with the other candidates?" Heimdall asked in a low voice.

Duncan didn't say hello to Craig until he left, and the latter didn't improve his demeanor.

Duncan, who was holding the child, could hear what he meant, "Craig is a very big competitor. I don't want to call him a brother for the sake of building an image, although everyone persuades me so."

"Don't worry, you have your charm." Heimdall gave him a thumbs up.

Duncan cheered up, "Do you think I'm better than him?"

Heimdall nodded, "Because you have two treasures."

"Two treasures?"

"Muscles are a treasure," snorted Inquisitor Sturluson, "heavy weapons are a must."

Duncan can't help but laugh.