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Harco Empire	By : Toddy Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 34430 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or films. I do not make any money from the writing of this story, just enjoyment.

Chapter List
- 205
- 206
- 207
[Note: “x-x” = speech & ‘x-x’ = thoughts & *x-x* = telepathy & #x-x# Parseltongue]
~~~ VILLA PIRELLI ~~~
One Sunday later in September the seers were chatting to the Diagon Alley shop residents in their flat about the possibility of a community portal to the Square.
“We don’t use the outside door that used to lead to the flats, do we?” said Ollivander: “Percy thinks it’s a security risk.”
“Yes, it is,” agreed Percy: “We’ve blocked it off. It only led into a long, wide hallway between the shops. Now we have doors into it from the backs of the shops at the far end so we don’t use it at all.”
“So; what are you suggesting, Ollivander?”
“Make a lobby, like the one at Gringotts, and connect it to an equivalent one in the Square.”
“If we did that, we would have to be careful not transform the portal from this flat to Number Twelve, because they would be parallel.”
“Can we do that, Astoria?”
“Yes, I’ve been mugging up in our library about it,” A: *In the Tabernacle,* “Being so closely parallel, they are likely to set up disturbing thaumic resonances. We were very lucky that the Village to Academy ones didn’t interact, but we think we can contain them.”
“So we have our private portal and have a public one next door as well?”
“Yes George, the new one would have village protectors; they’re pretty good, but not as stringent as the present private ones.”
George’s eyes lit up: “We’d have more people passing our window to get there, wouldn’t we; might be good for trade, especially those American mages. We’re developing some new lines for the transatlantic trade. Kooky Spooky Cookies, to name but one.”
“All we have to do is find a site in the Square. I wonder if the other part of the round tower on the other side of the pavilion might work.”
“Probably not; that’s where the grounds-man keeps his tools, and he has his snug in there also. He was most put out when we modified the other tower.”
“But we bought him a greenhouse in compensation.”
“Yes we did and it was set up next door to his snug and he’s acquired a big water-butt to fit in the triangle and drains the pavilion roof into it … Can you see him wanting to be moved again?”
“No not really …”
The idea was left hanging as they went on to discuss other subjects.
~~~ INHERITANCE ~~~
In the middle of October Blaise learned that his right to the patrimonial estate in Sicily had been confirmed by the court. However he came to see the seers in an agitated frame of mind.
“Despite losing a couple of appeals, I have heard that my Mother is contemplating breaking the blood seals on the estate. If she gets in before us then Uncle Niccolo thinks she might be able to claim squatter’s rights.”
Harry saw the problem immediately: “So we have to get there before her, yes?”
“There are a couple of problems, Harry.”
“Fine … Tell us?”
“I need to have the Zabini ring. But I have no clue where to find it.”
“Okay, so what’s the other?”
“I have never visited, so I don’t know where the estate is. It’s bound to be occluded.”
“Why not?”
“Mother wouldn’t allow me to; so I never met them. Probably because relations had soured since Father’s departure.” Blaise looked sheepish: “I forgot about them once I was away from her influence. Firstly it was getting to know Uncle Niccolo’s family. Next it was coming to Hogwarts and getting to know new friends. Then our select few roped me in, followed by courting Gilda and setting up in our business,” here he chuckled: “In between time I was involved in scrapes with us lot, too. So I never got round to it. I did write, but never had a reply, so after a time I gave up. I’m not too fussed over owning some more property, but I’m damned if I’ll let my avaricious mother have use of it.”
G: *Grab hands please?*
AD&H: *WHY?*
G* Just do it! I want to try an experiment.*
At Ginevra’s request the seers formed a ring around a small circular table: “Acciamus familia annulus Zabinium!” There was a chink and a ring appeared in the table’s centre.
“Could this be the one, Blaise?”
Blaise took it and examined it closely: “It seems to be. Where did it come from?”
Ginevra shrugged: “No idea, but it had been securely held. Put it on and drop a spot of blood on it. Then we’ll know whether you are the rightful heir. I must say that its aura and yours do seem to match.
Blaise put the overlarge ring on his finger and, with the help of Draco, pricked a finger of the other hand to allow his blood to drip. Immediately blood touched the ring it shone with a silver blue light and a brief showing of the Zabini family crest, then it shrank to fit the recipient’s finger exactly.
“I think that leaves us in no doubt, Blaise, does it?”
“No! And I can feel a pleasant tingling too.”
“So that’s solved the first conundrum. The next may be slightly more difficult,” observed Draco: “However I propose that Blaise and I go to Sicily and see if we can locate the estate.”
Astoria looked doubtful: “I don’t think you should use thaumic means of travel. Its possible Mrs Zabini will have scouts out looking for you. I am right in thinking that your mother has no idea where the estate is, Blaise?”
“I imagine so. Not that she ever mentioned it except when I asked, and her answer was always disdainful.”
“Fine! So you and Draco go to Florence, adopt a couple of glamours and become tourists. I’m sure that Douglas could find suitable railway times and tickets for you to approach Sicily that way.”
“I’ll claim a pair of cabinets from the stock we charmed last Beltane,” volunteered Astoria: “You take a miniaturised one with you and once you’re in residence we can get the ward team in to make the estate secure.”
“Yes, but how am I going to find the estate? Looking at this map makes me realise how big Sicily is.”
Harry felt Astoria’s hand in his. He also felt an urge, which he followed: “Blaise we need to use your ring please. Um … This is new … Um … We seers will hold hands around the map … Um … Tie your ring on a piece of thread … Um … Hold the ring over the map … Um … Run three drops of your blood down the thread … Let’s see what happens!”
As Harry said this, Blaise felt the ring loosen on his finger. He got the feeling it was as though it wanted to co-operate. Ginevra produced some thread from her sewing basket which Blaise tied to his ring. He reopened the pinprick in his finger and, whilst the seers held hands and concentrated he allowed the sanguine dribbles to run down the thread. For a minute or two nothing happened. Just as he was about to give up the ring started to move. At the same time minute specks of blood dripped off it onto the map. To begin with the pattern was indiscriminate but slowly a word emerged. Once the word was complete the ring dropped off the string onto the map leaving a bloody ring.
“What does ‘Canecoda’ mean?”
“No idea … Erm … Dog’s tail possibly.”
“That’s puzzling. What about where the ring fell?”
“It’s almost in Cefalu. Perhaps we’re to go there.”
“We’ve nothing else to go on so let’s try that first.” Blaise felt the ring tighten to fit his finger again, pulsing as though it approved.
F: *Tell your friend Blaise, that that is what he is meant to do,* Fawkes had been observing the operation from his favourite perch.
Harry chuckled: “Fawkes says to trust that instinct.”
“Oh! Right! We’d better get on with it then.”
They went to see Douglas who played with his computer for a minute or two.
“Do you want to travel by day or by night?”
“I like to sleep at night.”
“Well you can. There’s a night sleeper from Milano to Cefalu which you could pick up at Pisa. It goes as far as Palermo.”
“Erm … If I remember my map correctly there’s some sea to cross. That’d be a bit difficult on the train, wouldn’t it?”
“Not really, they put the carriages on board a ferry. It’s lunchtime so, whilst they mess around loading and unloading, you go up to the ship’s restaurant. You’d arrive in Cefalu mid-afternoon.”
“My mother doesn’t like trains, calls them dirty … Come to think of it … Any form of muggle transport really. So she may well not be watching them. She’ll probably have her minions out with thaumic detectors.”
“Seems like a good way of sneaking in then. If we think someone is looking for us we can always stay inside the cabin.”
“You may find that they leave the sleepers behind and only take seated accommodation across the straits.”
“Does it have compartments?”
“Usually, why?”
“Could we book a private one?”
“I’ll find out for you.”
“Whichever, see how soon we can get a reservation, please?”
Douglas played tunes with the keys: “How about just after nine from Firenze S N M on Sunday?”
“That’s tomorrow.”
“Yes!”
“Book it, please?”
Some more clicks and Draco had two tickets in his hands plus an itinerary.
In church the following morning John called down a blessing on their enterprise, as well as some other special biddings. Both Draco and Blaise felt a special tingle when he did so. In the afternoon, after packing, they ported to the Apartamento.
There was a surprise visitor when they were preparing for dinner at the Apartamento.
It was Giuseppe: “I’ve come to bless your endeavours,” he said as he was greeted.
“So John rang you up did he?”
“No! The Spirit prompted me, so I came. Tell me a little about your quest.”
“Will you stay for dinner? We could tell you over the meal.”
Giuseppe nodded gratefully: “Thank you, I would like to.”
Thus they told the Italian priest of the situation and, as they prepared to depart for the station, received a second blessing.
The first train was a local and took about an hour and a half, it was open plan and the two pure-bloods had the experience of travelling with the muggle hoi-polloi. Not that they were snooty about it; living in the village had knocked that idea on the head a long time ago. A couple fruit juices and a sandwich each at Pisa Centrale station filled in the time nicely until their sleeping coaches arrived. Having found their coach they were greeted by the attendant and showed to their cabin. Just after midnight the train set off and, after placing their breakfast order, they settled into the bunk beds for the night.
###
At half-past six Draco went to the toilet, catching sight through the windows of the sea at Agropoli – so the station name said. By seven thirty they were both awake and washing in turns. The tunnel noise had awoken them and the station said Sapri. Their continental style breakfast was served whilst they enjoyed views over the Mediterranean as far as Vibo, then it was back inland before meeting the sea again at the docks of Rosano. Seaside again until reaching Villa San Giovanni. Here the train paused after leaving the station. Then it reversed slowly. Looking out of the window, which Blaise had pulled down, they saw the first carriages entering a sort of metallic tunnel. On further inspection it turned out to be the hold of a ship.
Their carriage was among the first to be secured and they were able to dismount via some temporary wooden steps and the go up the ferry’s companionway on to the deck. There they spent a pleasant half hour having lunch and observing the many boats in the Straits of Messina. Returning to the train they found their cabin and ensuring non-magical privacy stayed in it until almost at their stop in Cefalu. During that time they changed into muggle holiday outfits, giggling at each other’s unfamiliar appearance.
Once on the platform, despite the mirth, they found that their gaudy outfits were not the least out of place. Having previously miniaturised the luggage to look like beach bags they turned right out of the station; joining a steady stream of holiday makers heading for the large hill near the sea.
Small Mountain would have been a better description for; by the time an hour later, they had reached the ruins on the summit they were perspiring heavily.
Draco grinned at his mate: “I’m glad Harry makes us exercise regularly. Otherwise I doubt we’d have made the summit.”
Blaise grinned back: “We left the last of the muggles about twenty feet down, thank Merlin.”
They looked at the map: “This definitely the place the ring marked. Now what?”
“Try calling out that word.”
“What, ‘Canecoda’?”
Pop: “Are you the Zabini heir, Master?”
“I suppose I am.” Blaise showed his ring to the elf.
“Welcome Visconti and Master … Err?”
“I’m called Blaise and this is my seer friend Draco, he’s a Malfoy.”
“Oh dear! W-w-welcome master.”
Draco took the elf’s hands: “I am not my father, Canecoda, I support the light. My close partner is Harry Potter.”
The elf sighed in relief: “Oh! That one! Goody! I think we’re going to need his help.” He held out his hands: “Please take a hand each and I’ll side-along you to Villa Pirelli.”
With a whoosh they vacated the hilltop; landing directly into a paved courtyard. There were two or three citrus trees and some struggling flowers beneath them. There was also a row of half a dozen elves standing to attention in crimson uniforms.
“This is our new master, Visconti Blaise Zabini.”
The elves gave a little cheer and then scurried off about their business.
There was a reverberating thump. “It’s started again,” Canecoda reported: “It’s either your father, Master Draco, or your Mother, Visconti. The wards are holding out but they are weakening.”
“Then we had better call in some reinforcements, hadn’t we?”
“That may be a little difficult, Master Draco. We elves have put up anti-apparition shields to strengthen the previous Visconti’s wards.”
“We have another way. What we need is a space near a chimney.”
“Sorry. But we closed the floo system down too.”
Blaise chuckled: “I commend you for your foresight, Canecoda. However this is a different system akin to vanishing cabinets as well as floos. It has some affinities to the thaums you elves use to apparate through closed wards.”
“If you say so, Visconti.” Canecoda still looked dubious as he led them into a cool lobby-hall and pointed out its fireplace.
“Would you mind clearing away that chair and table, please Canecoda?”
“Yes Master Draco.” A couple of clicks of the elf’s fingers and the space was clear. At much the same time there was another louder whoosh and the walls reverberated. Canecoda swallowed hard: “They’re weakening fast and your elves have been defending without sleep for three days already. I hope your help comes quickly.”
Draco charmed the cabinet to its normal size; placing it where the chair and table had been: D: *Tor it’s in place, and we need some defensive help urgently.*
A: *I’ve been listening in and so has Harry. Ginny’s contacting the Dumbledorians and some are already here. My cabinet is already placed. Are you ready?*
D: *Yes! Three! Two! One! FACEMUS PORTAM!* This whoosh was not as great as the external one, but Draco collapsed.
“Visconti, where has the cabinet gone?”
“Don’t worry Canecoda, it’s that new door in the wall it goes to the Patrimonio Zabini.” The door opened: “And here are our first recruits.”
A wobbly Astoria handed Harry through and then collapsed next to Draco. Harry handed Ernie through first; who went to seen the weakened seers. Harry stayed on portal duty handing in the Dumbledorians as they presented themselves. Ronald was one of the first ones and, after Blaise had introduced him to Canecoda, the two went into a huddle about the places that needed most reinforcements. This Junta of two then sent out the volunteers to help fortify the present wards.
It was chaos, shouted orders, thumps of the attackers and whooshes of the defenders filled the air with noise. That was supplemented by shouted orders and querulous inquiries. Very slowly the babel lessened. Within seven hours peace reigned and Ernie’s squad of healers were repairing the motley army of helpers.
Harry collapsed into a chair wringing his hands. Ernie scowled at him: “Why didn’t you let someone else help out?”
“I didn’t think to ask, and everyone who could fight was needed.”
Ernie shrugged: “Typical hero attitude. Oh well! Let me see what I can do with them.”
“Visconti?”
“Yes Canecoda?” Blaise enquired tiredly.
“Who are all these magicals? I’ve seen elves and goblins, some whom I think are satyrs in frocks; there are even muggles among them, although they do seem to have a slight aura.”
“Sorry, I had not too much time to explain. The Dumbledorian Society has magicals from all races within its ranks. And, as you’d noticed, there are some muggles too. They wear charmed medallions, and it’s them that give off the slight aura. They aren’t able to cast charms but their charging mage is able to give them some protectors. As you said there are some satyrs. I’m rather surprised to see them, they usually don’t like noise.”
Brightness came up and indicated that Blaise should hold his phallus. A shocked Canecoda looked on. Blaise grabbed the elf’s hand and placed it there too.
Br: *Hello Blaise and Canecoda. I’m Brightness, we came because we responded to the call. Vasil, our bishop, has enacted deafening charms on our ears. Do either of you speak the sacred tongue?*
#I do, a little, Brightness,# replied Canecoda
#Good! You can let go of my phallus then. You were very worried about it, weren’t you?#
#Grabbing a stranger’s cazzo is counted as being extremely rude, if not offensive.#
#So I understand. If you visit us then you will find a different etiquette pertains. Then again, when we visit the centaurs they have different rules too. Harry says the merfolk use our form of communication. Not that we’ve visited them yet. Oh! I’d better go, Brilliance my partner is beckoning. Goodbye, nice to have met you both.#
Blaise said goodbye and let go.
“Visconti, this will take some getting used to.”
“Welcome to our muddled multicultural society, Canecoda.”
“But you’re a pure-blood, Visconti. How can you tolerate it?”
“I don’t tolerate it, Canecoda, I embrace it. Two of the strongest mages that this age has produced were both muggle raised, Harry and Hermione. Look how Voldie misled the pure-bloods by misquoting their ideals.” Blaise chuffed: “And he was a half-blood, to boot. Many of the pure-bloods have strange ways, probably due to inbreeding. Look at my mother for instance, or Draco’s Aunt Bellatrix.”
“That’s something more I’ll have to get used to. Are you sure you want an old fogey like me in charge of your household?”
Pop: Kreacher appeared: “Blaise, is this the Governante of your demesne?”
“Yes, meet Canecoda. He’s been having doubts about being in the post though. This is Kreacher he’s Harry’s reeve, a Dumbledorian, a literacy professor and a British Seneschal.”
They shook hands “Is that why you call our Visconti by his personal name?”
Kreacher grinned: “They won’t speak to me if I call them master or mistress, but I imagine that that’s the reason. Don’t have any reservations about your position. I’m much happier now than when I was under the Black pure-blood regime. Now … We need to feed our irregular army, perhaps you can introduce me to your chef so that my wife, Winky, can chat about supplies and cooking etc.”
“Yes of course, it’s a cook, by the way, and my wife to boot. Nice to know that there are equivalent partnerships elsewhere in Magicdom.” The two of them popped away.
There was a commotion outside the door.
“Unhand me you grovelling oafs! Give me back my wand.”
Blaise looked stricken, glancing at Harry: “It’s Mother!”
“Quick go and sit in the ceremonial chair,” suggested Harry: “Remember how I looked and behaved at that satrap trial in Montecristo.”
Blaise grinned: “Got the idea!” and rushed off into the grand ballroom. The four seers went with him and Draco conjured suitably impressive robes for all five of them to wear. Canecoda popped in, took one look at the five mages, clicked his fingers, and a low stage appeared covered in rich fabrics with a matching canopy over the vicontiel throne. Two ornate chairs on each side were provided for the seers. They managed to settle-in just before a party appeared at the back of the ballroom.
Canecoda’s robes changed and were now silver trimmed and in his hand was a staff of office with the Zabini coat of arms surmounting it. He intercepted the party and banged his staff loudly three times on the floor. The struggling party paused and looked at him.
“Who brings a petitioner to my Lord Visconti Zabini’s court?” Rang out.
“I’m not a petitioner, I’m his mother!” Lollobrigida called out.
“Silence woman! You were caught breaking the Visconti’s wards. If you were a family member then the wards would have let you through.” One of the party shouted.
Canecoda banged his staff again: “That is for my Lord the Visconti to decide. Will you come before him peaceably?”
“I will not be treated as a prisoner in my own house!”
“This is My Lord’s house, not yours, lady. Your answer leaves me no option but to restrain you.”
Harry saw Canecoda’s ring touch the staff, the restraining ropes then appeared to come from the emblazonment.
“How dare you, a miserable elf, imprison a witch of high standing?”
“As Governante of his Sicilian demesne, I have that authority to restrain persons who are causing a breach of my lord’s peace. Do you wish to be muted as well?”
Lollobrigida Zabini [or whatever her current surname was] paused and looked ahead. There she saw what appeared to be a vicontiel court sitting in state, with her son supported by his councillors. Some of whom she recognised. The three seneschals had caused their badges of office to appear their robes and Ginevra had the Blake escutcheon on hers.
“Oh! I will moderate my speech, Governante,” she said with a grimace of disdain.
“Then you may approach his lordship.”
The party moved up the ballroom and came to a stand before the five seated mages. While this was happening Astoria had conjured a parchment and quill and scribbled some suggestions for Blaise to peruse. He nodded his head in acknowledgement and adopted an imperious pose.
Glancing at the paper he asked: “What charges are being brought against this prisoner.”
“That she did attempt to break the wards of your estate, My Lord. That she injured two of your elves and one of the defenders in doing so.”
“Are my retainers healed?”
“Yes My Lord. They are recovered.”
Blaise looked at his mother: “Do you agree that this is what happened?”
“They were impeding me as I was claiming my birth-right. So I plead self-defence, Son.”
“Did they attack you?”
“No! Just got in the way.”
“I see. To what birth-right are you alluding, Prisoner.”
Lollobrigida frowned: “The Zabini birth-right that belonged to my ex-husband.”
“You have the vicontiel ring to prove it, do you?”
“No! It was stolen from my vault.”
“Was that vault thaumically sealed?”
“Yes!”
“Were the seals broken?”
“No!”
“So how do you claim that the ring was stolen?”
“Well it was.”
“You could have mislaid it.”
“I didn’t!” Then she caught sight of the ring on Blaise’s finger: “It’s you who stole it!”
“I can assure you that I did not. It came to my finger voluntarily when my blood touched it. As my four councillors can attest, for they were witnesses. It seems that some other charges are pending, Governante, that of defamation of your lord’s character and that of impersonating an heir.”
“So it seems My Lord, so it seems. That last is the most serious.”
“You wretch of a son! Giving me one measly apartment! You’ve kept the best for yourself! You’re an ingrate, condemning you mother to penury! For such an insult I should disinherit you.”
Blaise smiled grimly: “Disinherit me if you like Mother. That will mean that the allowance you have been receiving from me will cease. Because you no longer call me family; I shall have no familial reason to keep you in funds. Is that what you want?”
“No! I want my rights!”
“In front of this court as an offender you have no rights.” Blaise stopped what he was going to say and had a whispered conversation with the seers.
“I and my councillors are inclined to be merciful. If you undertake, on a witch’s oath, to vacate this estate and never disturb its wards again, and if you undertake not to disturb any wards on any Zabini estate, apart from the Roma Apartamento, this court will take no further action. However should you refuse we will remand you in custody to the next hearing of the Sicilian Wizengamot and press the charges of impersonating an heir to their fullest extent. I have four unimpeachable witnesses here who will confirm your confession of guilt.”
Lollobrigida Zabini [or whatever] looked aghast at the grim visage of her son and realised that her philandering had given her an implacable enemy. She also realised that her son had very powerful allies. Her countenance changed from anger to humbleness: “I accept the verdict of this court. I swear on my magic, that I will not disturb the wards on any Zabini estate or abode apart from the Roma Apartamento which I inhabit.”
Unknown to her Canecoda had held her wand touching the Zabini Staff-of-office. So when she made her oath the silver flash of magic confirmed that her wand would never allow that to happen either.
As she was given back her wand, Draco felt a frisson of alarm and cast a quick bubble ward around her.
Wand in hand; Lollobrigida drew herself up defiantly: “I did not swear to not harm the Zabini mages, though: Crucio!”
Then she fell about in pain because Draco’s bubble reflected her curse back.
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