HP's Foreign Land

Chapter 682 The Dark Lord's Promise

"Dark green checkered tie? I saw it, um, he came to me. I'm sorry for delaying your meal... Haha, well, it's a good deed. Thank you Dad, see you on the weekend."

Heimdall hung up the phone and greeted the official from the Danish Ministry of Magic with Peter. An hour later, they left amid the official's slightly exaggerated laughter.

After leaving the Ministry of Magic, Peter mischievously imitated the official's exaggerated tone and exhaled.

"An extra second and I'm choking. I can't believe we spent an hour in his office listening to him bragging."

"To be precise, we stayed in his office for four or ten minutes." Heimdall took a sip of the lemon tea that came out of the official's office. "Oh, it's delicious, don't you see," he held up his glass. "It's disposable and recyclable. The Danish Ministry of Magic actually knows how to maintain unity with the Muggle government's environmental protection philosophy."

Peter doesn't know anything about environmental protection, and he has a lot of opinions on "four 10 minutes".

"No wonder it took so long. I was just surprised how the Danish Ministry of Magic is bigger than the International Confederation of Wizards building. It took 10 minutes to walk from the reception hall to his office? The Danish Ministry of Magic is really rich." Peter said with a look on his face. incredible.

"The construction of the Danish Ministry of Magic did not exceed the regulations." Heimdall threw the empty paper cup into the trash can on the side of the road. "He took us around in circles."

"Going around in circles? Why?"

"Who knows, maybe we want more people to see us, to make us feel at home, to express the enthusiasm of Danish wizards." The chairman of the chapter having afternoon tea in one of the offices of the Finnish Ministry of Magic.

As we walked, Peter suddenly forced, "Damn it, we should let the official take us directly to the destination instead of just asking him to issue us a permit."

"Are you sure you want him to continue leading the way?" Heimdall pretended to be surprised.

Peter had the expression of seeing spoiled meat, "Forget it."

The two headed towards the Danish Wizarding Medical Oversight Council.

"Come back so soon?" Hollingworth saw the two walk in the door one after the other.

"No one was found." Heimdall and Peter randomly found chairs and sat down.

Hollingworth said nothing.

Heimdall continued, "Two wizards named Ludwig Brown were found from the Danish Wizarding Medical Supervision Committee. The wizarding world rarely has the same name. We didn't expect it to happen to us. The registration information of medical personnel is not rigid. It is stipulated that detailed personal information must be registered, and most wizards only leave their contact addresses for the convenience of finding a job, so there is no traceable content for these two people, age, height, gender, etc., nothing."

After observing the expressions of the two, Hollingworth said, "Let me guess, you found one of them according to the address."

"Yes, and that person is dead. I think we should send an anonymous letter to the Danish Ministry of Magic, telling them to update the detailed addresses of the medical staff who are still alive." Peter said listlessly.

"That's right, investigators in the future won't just go to the wrong place and sigh like you." Hollingworth raised his eyebrows.

Peter coughed and sat up straight.

"Just in case, I asked them to call out the contact information of the wizards registered under the names of Ludwig and Brown." Heimdall said. "At this point, I can only hope for Merlin's blessing, and hope that Ludwig Brown just disappeared, not passed away as rumored by the outside world. His existence in the public's mind is very short, and it was his teacher who drew a clear line from him. The declaration made him known to the wizarding world. Before that, he was unknown, just like thousands of medical workers in the wizarding world."

"Good job." Hollingworth nodded, squinting at Peter.

Peter turned his eyes away and said to himself, "I don't know who told me that you only need to protect Sturlusson, and you don't have to worry about the rest..."

"After this matter is over, I will enroll you in Instructor John's theoretical class. Your theoretical knowledge is not good enough, and you obviously can't keep up with the practical operation. This is not acceptable. I don't want people who are slowing down." Huo Ringworth turned his head and said to Heimdall seriously. "Remember to remind me when the time comes."

Peter's face turned pale immediately, full of pain.

Heimdall sent a few sympathetic looks.

"Next, you continue to compete with Ludwig or Brown." Hollingworth waved his hand, meaning that they can get out.

"By the way." They were about to go out when Hollingworth stopped Heimdall. "I heard that you plan to register your marriage with the Danish Ministry of Magic?"

"Yes, it's flattering that you care so much about me."

"Don't play tricks on me, do you need help? I know a way to shorten the review period."

"No, it's fine as it is now, there are still some minor issues to be resolved before we officially register."

Thinking of Heimdall's father, and the rumors that the old lady of Krum's family complained about Heimdall, Hollingworth nodded suddenly, "I'm too busy."

"How?! I'm too happy to be happy." Heimdall smiled.

"I hope you're not flattering me because I'm your boss."

Heimdall pretended to be displeased, "Look at what you said, it seems that I don't flatter you normally."

Hollingworth grinned and rushed away impatiently, "Okay, okay, let's go quickly, don't stick at the door to block your eyes."

When I went downstairs, I met Snape who was in a hurry.

"Ah, just in time for you," said Snape.

"Is there a problem?"

"Wait a minute, I'll go talk to Judge Hollingworth." Snape has been fooling around with Greyback outside these days, and the werewolf's trust in him is getting higher and higher, and now he almost treats him as a chatterbox An indispensable confidant.

Heimdall waited downstairs for a while, and when he finished his glass of pumpkin juice, Snape appeared beside him.

"What can I do for you?" Heimdall asked.

"The mysterious man wants to see you."

Heimdall put down his glass, "...Let me go to England?"

"Of course not, no, it should be said that he originally planned it that way, and I spent a lot of time trying to convince him, and I would also like to thank my 'old friend' Fenrir Greyback for his great help. We do have to thank him for this, although to You-Know-Who, Greyback did something stupid." Snape took the refreshing lemon tea that Heimdall had ordered for him, thanked him and went on Said: "I don't know why the mysterious man wanted to see you on a whim. I guess Bellatrix must have contributed."

"Does that mean you finally got in touch with the mysterious person? Or is he finally willing to talk to you?" Heimdall didn't know whether he should be happy about this or have some other emotions.

A momentary look of what could be called "relaxation" crept across Snape's face.

"It's nice that you're always so lucid," Snape praised.

"Because I have a boss who is always pushing me on top of me." Heimdall joked.

Snape watched him calmly, making hairs on Heimdall's back.

"What's wrong?" Heimdall asked puzzled.

"I thought about the first time I joined the other Death Eaters to meet 'Your Majesty' after joining Professor Dumbledore's side. I couldn't even drink water that day."

Heimdall was silent for a moment, "...I forgot to ask you just now, how does 'Your Majesty' plan to receive me?"

"Through the fireplace."

"Are you sure he won't rush over suddenly? I believe you understand the principle of the fireplace link."

"Probably not. Unless you reveal your identity on the spot, you don't need to do anything else, just tear off your fake face. The mysterious man has always been 'friendly' to traitors."

Heimdall swallowed.

The child's reflex arcs, Snape thought, were queer, long and short.

The faint moonlight penetrated into the room from the window at the end of the corridor, and the little follower, holding his breath and lowering his head, followed Snape into the corridor.The thick carpet that has accumulated dust is no longer as gorgeous as it used to be, and the function of absorbing footsteps is still intact.The light floating ash carried by the soles swayed under the mottled moonlight, and was buried in the darkness most of the time, without a trace.

Heimdall raised his head, glanced past Snape's side, and vaguely recognized the outline of the front door.

Snape turned his head, with invisible worries in the shadow covered by the cloak and hat. Like all British wizards, the horror created by Voldemort has penetrated into his blood.Snape carefully concealed the last trace of softness, put on the mask of indifference, nodded as a reminder, and told the little follower that tonight's "stage" is on the other side of the door.

The Dark Lord's face was ashen. Considering that his face was already pale, it was easy to deduce how bad his mood was due to such an obvious change in complexion.More directly, it is burning with anger.

After the two pushed the door open, Greyback gave Snape a cautious look with his back to the fireplace, suggesting to him that the Dark Lord was in a bad mood and was going to find someone to kill him.Bellatrix slanted her face slightly as usual, and glanced sharply at the person she noticed.Seen from a certain direction, her actions were exactly the same as the Dark Lord who was mired in doubt all day long and couldn't extricate himself. Snape had no doubt that this woman was thinking hard all the time, trying to "assimilate" with the Dark Lord, His ambition is evident.

The Dark Lord hadn't appeared in the fireplace yet, and the atmosphere here was so dignified.Snape guessed that another short-sighted guy had angered the narrow-minded Voldemort.Had he been able to look past the fireplace, he would have found that his guesses were all right.Too bad he couldn't add points to Slytherin House or himself, and didn't help Hogwarts final exams.

On the other side of the UK, which they couldn't see, several Death Eaters collapsed on the ground with stiff bodies, their distorted features mixed with pain and fear.The other Death Eaters remained petrified, silently praying that the Dark Lord's attention would not be drawn, that no one wanted to be the next target.

Voldemort glanced at the groaning followers who fell to the ground with his strangely red eyes - among them was Snape's "friend" Mr. Walton McNeil. The mission went awry - every Death Eater's was stung by the undisguised disgust in his eyes.He raised his eyelids, and his gaze rested on the other Death Eaters huddled together nervously.

What would Lucius Malfoy do if he were there?Looking around like this group of trash?Or look straight into your own eyes, hoping you see heartfelt loyalty in them?Voldemort sneered.No, Lucius Malfoy would never be so naive and ignorant, he would lower his head and stare at the ground under his feet, because then he would not be able to see his eyes, his expression, only his humble and pious eyes attitude.Damn and smoothly confuse people.

Lucius Malfoy was one of Voldemort's most capable men, and the more so, the more the Dark Lord lost this arm, the more he felt that everyone else was useless—oh, and maybe there was a Severus... Snape, but Lucius' betrayal just prevented the Dark Lord from further trusting Snape, and he hated and angered the Malfoy family's treachery even more.That guy has always been an opportunist.

"Unforgivable." Voldemort gritted the words through his teeth. "Do you need me to repeat what you said to me before we set off? And who swore to tell me that I must complete the task beautifully? What's the result? Is this what you call beautiful?"

Voldemort's voice was sharp and vicious, and the Death Eaters lying on the ground trembled. They didn't dare to defend themselves, doing so would only result in another Cruciatus Curse punishment.

"Lu, Lucius is very careful... seldom go out, and even if we go out, there are more than one wizard with us. It is difficult for us to find a chance to make a move. After leaving the UK, any action will be restricted to a certain extent. We can't startle the snake. This will cause Attention from the local Ministry of Magic." Walton McNeill turned over and said cautiously. "Draco Malfoy's school has been cast with a powerful protective spell, and we haven't found a way to enter that magic school for the time being."

"That's not what you said at the beginning. I remember you said that Draco Malfoy is just an insignificant detail in this plan. Unforgivable!" Before the words fell, Cruciatus fell on McNeill body, the latter howled in pain.

Normally Voldemort was calm, or made himself look calm.He rarely berates anyone, not even his closest followers, in a raging voice.Even when he was angry, his voice remained calm and cold as usual.But the recent series of unsatisfactory events have worn out Voldemort's patience, especially in the matter of arresting Lucius Malfoy's repeated failures, which completely angered this pale-faced big devil.

Voldemort's icy gaze swept over every life in the room, and he threw a few Cruciatus Curse at random. The speed was unstoppable. The Death Eaters only had time to see him waving his wand, but they were not sure whether he was chanting the spell or not. The punishment followed like a shadow... After torturing a few incompetent people, listening to their screams and watching them tumbling, he finally withdrew his hands and sat back on the high-back chair without warning, stroking the cumbersome handle of the chair silently.

At last Voldemort's voice sounded again, breaking the unbearable silence.

"Let's do this first. I'll talk about it when I think of a countermeasure, but don't think you can escape. I won't tolerate failure. Don't make an example, McNeil."

Walton McNeill exerted all his strength to maintain his posture in groveling prostration, and Voldemort grunted absently, his eyes gliding to the fireplace.

"Get out, all of you, I don't want to see any of you within three days!"

The Death Eaters were terrified, but in fact this was what they were most looking forward to.Voldemort watched coldly as they came forward to kiss the corner of his robe one by one, and left his room in an orderly manner.

On the other side of the fireplace, Greyback had been whispering to Snape for a while, and Voldemort's voice suddenly sounded in the room, and the four people in the room immediately gathered around the fireplace.

Heimdall took two steps behind in a measured manner, following Snape cautiously as a green leaf.

Greyback was accustomed to his petty appearance, and curled his lips disapprovingly.This unintentional act pleased Bellatrix, and she didn't know which nerve touched her heart. She felt that the little follower who was not promising was much more pleasing to the eye than before.

"Master." At the same moment as Voldemort's face appeared in the fireplace, the three of them spoke almost in unison.

When the little follower saw the skeleton-like appearance, he couldn't help puffing out his chest and stomach, and raised his head.Others looked at it and thought that his respect came from the bottom of their hearts, but they couldn't see that it was a conditioned reflex only when watching horror movies.

The three of them took turns describing their actions and feelings in foreign countries these days. They could feel that Voldemort was in a bad mood, so they all found something less exciting to say.A few words were explained in a gentle manner, most of them were nonsense.

Voldemort lost his patience and hissed, "Where's Snape's little boy?"

The three Death Eaters fell silent for a moment.

The little attendant remained motionless until Greyback pushed him hard, then staggered as if waking up from a dream, ran forward in a hurry, lifted the cloak and hat and took off the mask, bowed respectfully, Stare at the floor.

"I am, I am..." The little follower paused, as if he finally remembered what to say. "Oh, I'm, yes, Derek Kenny."

Heimdall's Irish accent has been greatly improved under the correction of the instructors sent by the police force. As long as they are not native Irish, most people only have the urge to laugh when they hear his funny English.Voldemort is not an ordinary person, nor would he be in the mood for a joke.

"You are not a member of the Foreign Branch of the Death Eaters," said Voldemort in a chatty tone, his eyes fixed on the other's ugly face.

"No..." The little follower shrank his neck, his movements were too large, and he looked clumsy and stupid.

The eyes of Greyback and Bellatrix showed contempt at the same time, and Snape was also unhappy because of the clumsiness of the little follower, and his face was a little ugly.

Voldemort seemed to have lost interest in the little follower, and suddenly said, "Snape, to what extent does that old fool who only knows how to giggle trust you?"

"I think that's enough, my lord." Snape bent down.

"But it's not enough in my opinion, don't you think so, Snape?"

After a moment's hesitation, Snape said, "Your judgment is undisputed, but I need time..."

"I've wasted too much time on you guys, and none of you have made me as happy as when you swore to accomplish the task. I'm tired of your childish and ridiculous excuses!"

Now the three Death Eaters in the room understood that the Dark Lord was in a very bad mood today, and they scolded their "colleagues" in the UK from the bottom of their hearts, for leaving such a mess to the three of them to clean up.

"There is good news." Voldemort calmed down in an instant.

The four people in the room were taken aback for a moment, the three Death Eaters were no stranger to the Dark Lord's leaping nature, and Heimdall was secretly surprised.

"That person has reconnected with me. Just to be on the safe side, Snape, I'll let you go." Voldemort ordered.

"My pleasure." Snape said hastily.

After waiting for a while, Voldemort did not see anything else.

Snape bit the bullet and asked carefully, "Master, how should I meet him?"

"Bella, give him the letter."

Bellatrix suppressed her reluctance. She originally thought that the Dark Lord would entrust this matter to herself, but she didn't expect that Snape would take advantage of it in the end.Snape secretly rejoiced that his performance was notable in the eyes of the Dark Lord, otherwise he would have missed the opportunity to "make meritorious service" tonight.

Snape pretended not to understand the aggressiveness in Bella's eyes, and silently accepted the letter.

Voldemort's eyes turned to someone, "Derek Kenny."

"Yes!" The little follower yelled violently.

"When things are done, I will allow you to come to England and personally give you the Death Eater mark."

Is this Voldemort's promise?Little minions have no way of knowing, but these big monsters usually have no credibility at all.

The little follower bowed deeply in gratitude to Dade, and a flush of excitement appeared on his face, making that ugly face even more unsightly.

Greyback, who hadn't been marked so far, had his teeth itchy with jealousy. If the little follower hadn't been so ugly and tarnished the werewolf's aesthetics, he would have bitten him beyond recognition.

"Now, get out of my sight. You make me sick." Voldemort said disgustedly.

At 07:30 on a Friday night, Heimdall sits at a spotlessly clean, cream-colored table, using a wooden spoon to mix up the chopped vegetables sprinkled on top of the soup, and pour the mixed meat into his mouth.

Rommel, who was sitting opposite him, raised his eyes and said, "Are you sure you can handle it?"

"There is no problem so far." Heimdall assured, "The professor is very measured. If it is a situation that he can't handle, he will not let me participate. I am just a small follower, and the major events within the Death Eaters will not be on my turn." I am gratified that the professor has further gained Voldemort's trust, and he has a place in the overseas Death Eaters branch, those guys will no longer crowd him out for no reason, and he can occasionally go to the secret hotel to take the opportunity to relax and be himself."

"It sounds like everything is under control." Rommel declined to comment.

"We can't interfere too much, that's a domestic matter in the UK." Heimdall shrugged.

"Then let's talk about our housework."

Heimdall twisted his face.

"You decide to face me with this look?"

"No," Heimdall shook his head. "Oh my god, it's actually raw celery." He looked like he was about to vomit.

"If you dare to spit out what's in your mouth, I'll ask the chef to make you a plate of celery puree."

Heimdall's face turned blue, "...I've already swallowed it."

Rommel said as if nothing happened: "Are you sure you can convince me in half a year?"

"No, I haven't graduated yet."

Rommel stared at him for a moment, "What are you thinking?"

"It's nothing, just start to make some preparations for the wedding that will eventually come. After I graduate and get your approval, all this will be logical." Heimdall smiled at Rommel. "Trust me, this is by no means meant to contradict you, nor is it meant to imply or force your consent. Your decision is very important to me, and I hope to get your sincere permission."

"...I'm old." Rommel raised his glass and took a sip. "I admit that your rhetoric touched me very much. I almost lost control just now. I wanted to tell you not to worry about what I think, but to do whatever you want, and then tell you emotionally that Dad loves you, no matter where you are , whoever you become, will always be your father's treasure."

Heimdall was unexpectedly calm, "Fortunately, your heart is as hard as iron."

Rommel raised an eyebrow in surprise, and murmured, "Good job."

Heimdall pursed his lips and smiled seemingly reservedly.

When they started to eat the staple food, Rommel couldn't help but ask, "Tell me honestly, do you really think I'm hard-hearted?"

Heimdall couldn't help grinning, "Of course not!"

Rommel showed an exaggerated expression of relief.