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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
- 249
- 250
- 251
[Note: “x-x” = speech & ‘x-x’ = thoughts & *x-x* = telepathy & #x-x# Parseltongue]
~~~ JEWEL MINES ~~~
Not long after the sympathetic-magic sendings; the three seers bid the elders goodbye and started to walk towards the farmhouse. Their path took them past a small outcrop of rock.
A goblin stood there. “You – Holovny’y Magister – are to come and meet our Governor,” he demanded in a gravelly voice, accompanied by a no-nonsense look.
Harry came to a halt in front of the goblin, extending his hands to hold Draco’s and Ginevra’s.
G: *His aura’s okay.*
D: *His thoughts are confused and surprised, but his only purpose is to bring you to his chief.*
H: *I’m unable to see any untoward magic.* “May my friends accompany me?”
“No Sir – my chief wishes to speak privately with you. However, the vidma and the other magister may wait here.” The goblin waved his fire-stick and a grotto, not unlike St. Illanon’s hermitage, appeared. There was a cloth on the table, with a bowl of fruit and two wine glasses full of a clear liquid. Behind the table was a door which appeared to lead into the depths of the hill.
D: *We’ll investigate the victuals before we partake, Harry and keep the channels open.*
H: *Okay, thanks.* “Fine, Mr Goblin, lead on.”
“I am called Lamellas, Sir. I am surprised you did not object.”
“We sampled your magic, Lamellas and found it benign. I have close goblin friends; in fact, I was a Senior when three of them were bonded.”
Lamellas gasped: “A Senior – His Godparent; is that what you mean?”
“Yes, I was his professor at the time, and he asked me. Draco,” Harry pointed: “My Partner was another, and Hamish, a goblin professor was the third – all kosher – three necked bottle, pink drink and the lot.”
“Oh! Is that why a goblin was alongside you in the mask-making with those elves?”
“Yes, Probes, sorry Probert Pressgang, is one of our Godsons, he’s part of the European ward team. The elves are our successor professors at Hogwarts.”
“This is very confusing. Perhaps that is why Governor Archington wishes to speak with you. Please come through the door.”
Harry did as he was bid. There was a tram-cart waiting for them; shabbier than the ones at the bank neither was it a phaeton. Harry jumped in and took a firm hold of the handles.
Lamellas chuckled: “Ours are nowhere near as fast as that Sir. This is a mine railway.”
The vehicle set off, Harry reckoned at about twelve miles an hour. Having relaxed his grip, he tightened it somewhat: “It’s not the smoothest ride, is it?”
“No Sir, I lean forward off the back of the seat, it allows my natural balance to assert itself.”
Harry leaned forward slightly: “So it does, thank-you. What do you mine here?”
“Not exactly here, but we’re connected to mines of semi-precious stones, amethyst, onyx, rock-crystal and the like. This was our refuge from the soviet domination …”
… As the cart rumbled along, they swapped bits of information and Lamellas pointed out various possible gem bearing lodes. Harry noticed a distinct thawing in the goblin’s attitude. Ten minutes’ travel had them stopped.
This place was formal again. A platform, a number of interested bystanders, some uniformed goblins restraining them and a door guarded by two sky-blue robed, ferocious looking goblins. They saluted Lamellas, who bowed his head in return. Remembering the etiquette that pertained in the inner sanctums of Gringotts; Harry felt drawn to the same gesture plus its hand-on-heart formality. That brought a gasp from the onlookers.
“Did I do it wrong?” Harry whispered.
“No, just right,” Lamellas whispered back: “My fellows now know you honour goblin customs, something quite unusual for a magister.”
The door was opened from inside and the two entered, Harry first.
Another sky-blue robed goblin, the one who had opened the door, led the way down a short passage, opened another door and announced: “Deputy Lamellas and the Holovny’y Magister, My Lord.”
“Thank-you, Salvador, you may leave us.”
Harry saw a goblin, not too unlike Lamellas, sitting behind a desk and assumed they were related. Their identical mid-blue cloaks also increased that likeness. Harry was sending these impressions back to the two in the grotto. Lamellas indicated one chair on this side of the desk and then walked round to stand behind the governor.
Harry remembered his manners: “The Magister Potter presents his greetings to the August Governor Archington,” and bowed the same bow and hand gesture.
“Oh!” A startled governor scraped his chair as he rose: “Erm … The Governor Armando Archington greets the Holovny’y Magister Potter and bids him be seated.”
Both participants sat. Harry looked up and saw a surprised smile on the governor’s face.
“I see you are well versed in our ways, Magister Potter. Why do you not accept Holovny’y?”
“Because I have no rank in the Ukrainian magical hierarchy, Governor Archington. However, I might just claim Seer, as a European honour. You demanded to see me?”
“I must apologise, Seer Potter, I had no idea then that you were educated in our ways and so obviously at home.” Lamellas proceeded to tell Governor Archington what he had learned of Harry’s links with the goblin world. Harry suspected the Governor already knew.
“That explains a lot of what I was curious about, please call me Arno.”
“I must say I was a little worried about your intentions, too. I’m Harry.”
“Okay, shall we go through to my solar, it’s more comfortable there. This is my cousin Lugubins Lamellas we tend to call him Lugo.”
This time Harry shook hands with both goblins – the solar was, like Harry’s, equipped with comfortable armchairs. They chatted about Harry’s reasons for being here and about this set of goblins’ retreat into the earth from the unresponsive soviet domination and how they made a living.
“I’m afraid I was not entirely truthful with you,” confessed Lamellas: “We do mine certain precious gems here; that is one of our sources of income. It takes time to find them and we only release them one at a time, in order to keep the market steady. If their whereabouts became general knowledge, then we’d have muggles and their machines ripping the earth apart. We have a set of rock-eaters and, if we keep them happy, they will find the gems for us.”
“I have not heard of rock-eaters before. The way you talk of them they sound like animals.”
“It’s one of the goblins’ secrets, Harry. They are very large worms, magically related to the lithotrophs of the deep seas. We have a family here of about seven of which a pair are usually available for gem exploration.”
“About seven?”
“Yes … The family live in a semi-submerged ball of squirming bodies. Presumably living and dying or even regenerating within that community. They happen to like certain aromatic vegetable oils for their nest. Our nest is portable and when a hungry pair are about to emerge we lay an oil trail to where we would like them to commence eating. They appear to get their nutrients from the rock they swallow and we gather the resultant gravel they spew from their anal orifices. This is inspected and the gems extracted. We use the almost worthless gravel to fill up the disused adits, thus keeping the earth above fairly stable, bar earthquakes. Our keepers have great insight into their behaviour, and use that to warn us of impending tremors, as well as the hunger level of the nest.”
“A kind of symbiotic arrangement then.”
“You have the idea; we supply the oil, they give us the gems and the gems pay for the oil to be grown. There is enough profit in the transaction as long as world prices do not fall catastrophically. Some of the inhabitant muggles above ground also make a reasonable living farming the oil plants. That is how we keep in touch.”
“That explains why most muggles were not surprised to see Probes, Lugo. Um … Are you aware that the two sitting in the grotto are two of our quartet of close partners?”
“Not really thought about it … How close?”
“We share a common mind, they are aware of everything that I am aware of unless I deliberately withhold information – and I haven’t been. It was a safety net in case your intentions were dishonourable.”
“So they know our secrets?”
“I’m afraid so, Arno. Just as one of your triads is aware of each other’s minds; only we’re a four. Astoria, the fourth is at our Dacha, somewhere north of here.”
“For a moment I was alarmed. As you say, our triads are just as close. I should have realised that you’d know. After all, you’re a Senior to one, aren’t you? Silly me! Perhaps your two would like to join us?”
“I’ll arrange somebody to fetch them,” Lamellas went to the door, opened it and spoke to someone.
D: *We understand what’s happening. Hmm … Tor’s replaced Ginny; you know how intrigued she is with new forms of life. We’ll be vague about timing. Oh, and she’s got Bertie with her.*
“Harry … Harry …?”
Harry looked up with a worried frown: “Sorry … just chatting to the group.”
“Our third member will be joining us … Halibarrow … after he’s done a deal with another goblin representing a consortium.”
Harry felt another Spirit-tug: “Could that be Bertie Bogrod?”
“What? How did you know?”
“Bertie is our fellow director and Trust Administrator and he is with the other two outside. I was wondering how to ask you to see him. Occasionally the Spirit gives me information and I acted upon it.”
“So you’re a Christian are you? No wonder you said to the muggles that you thought you could find a priest.”
“I still have that mission to accomplish. That’s where I was going before you waylaid me.”
“Erm … Your timing’s a bit out isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well … Going to England … Finding a priest … Back here for Sunday … Choir rehearsing? Also … The two wives swapping places seemed to surprise you.”
“Okay … This is something I must ask you not to reveal outside your Triad … Once we get to the Cabin it will probably take less than ten minutes to reach home. We have a special way of travelling between certain locations which compresses space.”
“That’s quite an achievement; I suspect your enemies know nothing of this. Does Bertie Bogrod have access?”
“Of course, he’s a friend and a fellow Trust director, as is Gallus.”
“That wouldn’t be Gallus Griphook; a Governor of Gringotts would it?”
“The very same, I take it you know him.”
“I’ve met him when the various governors meet in conference. He was saying he visited around Europe a lot. I imagine he uses your system, not that he let on … Erm … Confidence for confidence … We also have a communications system … Nowhere near as fast as yours … The rock eaters leave very smooth tubes behind … we use phaetons. It’d probably take six hours to reach the London Gringotts from here, if there’s a through connection. I have had no reason to try it out. Our groups use them for trading purposes – another source of income – all over the world.”
Just then Draco, Astoria and Bertie arrived, accompanied by Halibarrow: “I’ve done it a couple of times, Arno. I used our system via Prague, to Munich, and the Gringotts one via Paris. We’ve been having a silent ride listening to your conversation, and filling Bertie in.”
“Okay Bertie why are you here?” Harry looked quizzically at his fellow director.
“Exploring the possibility of buying low-grade crystals for the shop at the Palazzo and having a bit of a joy ride around Hal’s mines. There’re some stupendous views over Ozero Endryu from some cave openings at the top of the cliffs.”
“I’ve been listening in to the various conversations, whilst sitting at the Dacha,” began Astoria: “The thought occurred to me that one way to get the Glags fighting each other would be to pinch all their prisoners without them realising it. Now if Arno’s worms could find an underground way into their jails, we could spirit away the mages, replace them with images, and have the images disappear all at once. The Glags without birds are unable to sense magic, so we free the birds at the same time.”
“We think the prisons are underground, Tor. So that might make the job easier.”
“Once we find the children,” Astoria continued: “They will need to be taught how to handle their talents, so that is where Sophiamonastir comes into its own.”
“Would entry be on the same basis as Hogwarts?”
“Of course! We never envisage regressing, Bertie. You know we want to integrate wherever possible.”
“That’s what I thought, Tor. So Arno, I strongly recommend that the miner-goblin children of the right age be encouraged to join in. All of the great European schools offer places on that basis. We have found our children’s scope and talents to be greatly enhanced since that first Hogwarts intake.”
“Mr Bogrod, are you challenging a foreign Governor’s authority?”
“Err …” Bertie glanced at the seers, who nodded approval: “Yes, I think I am. After all, the Goblin Wars were more about inequality than anything else. Why condemn a goblin-child to mind rock-eaters if he’d be better at potions?”
“Mmm …” The Governor raised his eyebrows in shock.
“Don’t be silly, Arno,” put in Lamellas: “Think of little Damascene, she hates sorting gems. Her room is full of plants, I’m sure she’d much prefer to be out in the fields: everything green she touches blossoms well. I’m sure the muggle family she ran away to would love to help her.”
“You may not know it, Arno,” added Halibarrow, but her family and the muggles meet regularly. Their son is fascinated by jewels. With both sets of parents’ connivance, they dress up as each other and swap places; net result; two reasonably happy eleven year-olds. Before you become agitated; there is no sexual attraction.”
“It looks as though my council has out-voted me,” the Governor smiled: “Okay what’s next on the agenda?”
“Getting me to the Dacha so I can find a priest.”
“Try Veronica, Harry, she’s the free one this weekend.”
Arno chuckled: “That’ll really challenge them; male vidmas and female priests.”
“So? Fine! Which way do I go, please?”
“Let me take you, Harry,” volunteered Lamellas: “There’s a bore that take can take us almost to the top of the cliffs and I can show you the views of Ozero Endryu before you apparate.”
“Thanks. Fancy coming to see our home, Lamellas?”
His two triad members nodded, so Lamellas agreed. Harry followed him out of the room and around a couple of corners.
They entered a low cave with a number of circular holes in its longest wall; they had colourful pictorial labels above them. In the blank spaces before the holes were walkways with a dished space between them. The dished spaces matched the holes for curvature but were only half as high. Within some of these spaces were cigar-shaped phaetons, slightly different from the ones they were used to. Nevertheless, they worked in the same way.
Choosing a phaeton opposite a cliff with holes’ pictograph, Lamellas said: “We’ll sit centrally it maintains the balance better. If you travel by yourself sit forward, we only use the back seat when there are four of us; we distribute luggage in the same way.”
Harry clambered in and sat, it was a fairly tight fit but not uncomfortable. He had a fit of the giggles trying to imagine Hagrid in one, and then had to explain to Lamellas.
The goblin sat next door, recovered from his chuckles and said: “Touch the target in front of you with your wand at much the same time as I touch mine with my fire-stick. That will start everything moving. Please don’t leave anything draped over the doorway; especially your fingers … Are you ready … Let’s go.”
Targets touched, the cover snapped sharply closed and they were in the dark. A glow started under the seats which increased slightly as they accelerated. Harry was wondering how bright it might become when it started to dim and the vehicle came to rest. The cover hinged open to reveal that this chamber had just the one circular hole. It was lit by natural light coming in from another doorway.
Naturally, Harry was drawn to the doorway, and out into a gallery. Then he gasped. This arched gallery was cut into a sheer limestone cliff and about a hundred feet below was a sparkling blue lake. Beyond that were the neat farmsteads of the Okruh with seven church spire/towers drawing the clusters of houses around them like an old lady draws her skirts. Insect like animals and people could be seen moving about their labours. The colours were clear in the clean air, Harry wanted just to sit on the broad wall’s top, with his back resting on a support pillar and take in the sight.
“Harry … Harry?”
“Oh … Sorry … Isn’t this magnificent?”
“Yes, it is … Come back and stare later … You have a priest to find and I have a problem for you to fix first. You see a number of years ago we were able to walk right to the end on this gallery, but now … Harry … You’re staring, again …”
“Sorry … But now?”
“Okay, so you were listening … We are unable to exit the far end; there is some sort of magical blockage. To begin with it felt evil so we left things alone, but now it feels benign, however we still cannot obtain access.”
“That will be the new wards … Just a minute.” Harry patted his various pockets: “Ah, here it is. Wear this medallion that should solve the problem, Lugo.”
Lamellas put the locket on, but still could not go through.
Harry watched for a minute: “Come here. Shake my hand … Do you come in peace?”
“I come in peace.”
“Then enter in peace, welcome.”
Lamellas looked puzzled but walked easily through the ward.
“I shall have to show you each portal and take your hand, but without the peace business – that’s first time only – In that way you will be able to use each portal so gained, but only if you are wearing the medallion. You cannot lend it out because it’s now personally attuned to you, we’ll pick up two more for your tri-colleagues.” Harry pushed on a door and it opened: “Oh, I thought that was an unused bothy. This cupboard is our adytum … Now let me see … Ah yes, that one goes to the Dacha and starts us off.”
Holding hands Harry led Lamellas through the portals, sketching out some sort of memory enhancer for him; eventually meeting the Reeve in the cottage’s lounge.
“Any idea where Veronica is, Kreacher?”
“Yes Harry, somewhere between Milkwood and the vicarage. She’ll have just finished an ethics class, but I forget which academy at.” The elf closed his eyes in concentration: “Her aura’s walking through the woods, so I imagine you could waylay her in our entrance-way.”
“Thanks, we’ll ambush her there. Don’t look so worried Lugo, not physically. Kreacher started it off by suggesting I waylay her.”
“That’s right … Blame it on an ancient, overburdened house-elf who’s not allowed to retaliate in case he gets punished.”
Lamellas looked horror-struck and then put out when the two magical beings collapsed in laughter.
The door opened. “Okay … Okay … Why the hilarity?”
“Hello, Veronica, meet Lugo Lamellas, he’s from the Crimea. Kreacher and I were pulling his leg.”
“Hello Lugo, I have the dubious pleasure of being chaplain to this unruly lot … I see you have a nice healthy tingle.”
Lamellas was shaking his hand in the air whilst Harry and Kreacher again collapsed in mirth.
“Ignore them … That tingle happens whenever a discerning priest and a magical being meet for the first time. Just having a look around, or here for a purpose?”
“Accompanying Harry, whilst he finds a priest to conduct a thanksgiving service in the Crimea.”
“Thanks for the warning … Shall I play hard-to-get?”
Harry had recovered from the giggles: “No you will not. Fancy taking an orthodox service? I know you’ve been to some of Vasil’s.”
“I could be available,” volunteered Veronica: “Vasil’s been teaching me the words of the old Orthodox mass. And some of the choir know the responses. The music could be that Tchaikovsky setting which we use sometimes; set to the English words for our communion service. Vasil told me that you heard it once at a service on a train.”
“Yes …” Harry briefly explained some of their honeymoon antics to both listeners.
“Do you think Hamish could conduct the choir? It’d mean them getting up three hours earlier, or staying overnight at the Dacha. There’s a three-hour difference so their ten o’clock would be the equivalent of seven o’clock here.”
“I’ll ask him at practice tonight. My feeling is that the boys will jump at the opportunity. Now they’ve become used to portal travel, they love our little musical excursions.”
“Do they like camping?”
“Yes, Lugo … Why?”
“There’s a lovely meadow on the shores of our lake. Maybe they could stay overnight, say – have a practice on Saturday, some leisure time, stay in camp and have the service, before coming back here for your service.”
“Good idea, I’ll suggest to Hamish that we do the Tchaikovsky for both services. I’ll go and find him, there’s just time enough without making Mr Conductor cross.”
“Floo me at Vidma Trephine’s, please – Ginny knows where it is. You’ll need to be handed through a couple of new portals, too.”
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