Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 54
- 55
- 56
[Note: conversation =: “speech” & ‘thoughts’ & *telepathy* & #Parseltongue# & {telephone}]
~~~ ANNOYANCE ~~~
The week was quiet, Theodore appeared to have recovered his aplomb from the week before, managing to impress Harry with a newly learned defence. The Saturday session of the Wizengamot was over within the hour, so that, after they had ported home, Harry suggested a quick visit to the village before lunch. Draco was slightly reluctant.
“I might even treat you to a drink at Richard’s pub.”
“That’s different,” Draco grabbed Harry’s arm: “C’mon, what are we waiting for?”
They strolled down Almoner’s Row into the village square. Here some were well-dressed people there holding placards and looking angry. ‘Save our Post Office’ seemed to be the gist of the message.
“It’s you lackadaisical villagers who’ve let this happen.” A headscarved woman tried to grab and lecture Harry.
Draco did grab Harry and pulled him into Mrs Amis’s general store.
“Hello Dearies! Escaping from that mob am ye? Dratted incomers, they’m don’t even shop in the village, get it all from the town stores. We’m knowed that the Rileys were selling up for a couple o’ months. Can’t make it pay, not that they’ve tried that ’ard. In a village like ours ye’ve got to diversify. Foley does, same as me. Then; the real villagers come ’ere for what they want. Mr Carter gets most of yere food ’ere; then Foley’s been selling them old bedsteads too. Yere house knows how to integrate; then ye would too. Ye keeps to the old ways, don’t ’ee?”
“Any idea who’s buying it Mrs Amis?”
“No Mr Malfoy, I’ve ’eard tales that they’m got no one. ’As ye got one of yere friends interested ’ave ye?” Mrs Amis’s face became animated: “They buy sweets and things from my shop, too.”
“Possibly. When do they actually close?”
“Well now Dearie, they’m just hanging on, d’ye see. Waiting for an offer d’ye see, or so the tales says. We’m going to ’ave a problem when we’m got go to Grumblewell for banking.”
“Mmm … You’ve given me an idea.” Draco handed over various bars of muggle chocolate and paid for them; receiving them back in a brown paper bag.
Mrs Amis was still grumbling about stuck-up incomers when they left the shop, but she waved them a cheery goodbye.
“Let’s see if Richard knows anything,” Harry suggested.
Richard was equally peeved. “Look at ’em. One small gin and tonic lasts for two hours. They think a village is a pretty place to live in, not a working environment. There’s only a couple of residents among ’em, the rest are townies here for a game at our expense. The residential ones were complaining about tractor mud on the roads a couple of months ago. Then, before that they made a stink about manure on the fields!”
He saw his listeners giggling over their pints of cider, realised what he had said and joined in.
“What’s happening to the post office, Richard?”
“No-one wants to buy it, so I’ve heard, Draco. The post office big-wigs say it doesn’t pay and want to reduce it to a sub post office. However, as long as the Rileys hang on, they’ve got a guaranteed income. Probably just enough to live on and they get a bit of commission from the bank. That’s why the church uses them; to help out, so to speak. I think Bert Riley thought he was on to a good thing, but he didn’t exert himself. If he’d thought about a newsagents or something like that, it’d have paid. All the real villagers would have supported ’em. That ruddy paper shop in Grumblewell treats us like dirt. We get no Sunday papers at all, nor any local ones neither.” Richard went off to serve someone else.
“Hey, look over there, isn’t that Aberforth?”
“He ought to be serving Butterbeer in Hogsmeade.”
They went over.
“Hello Aberforth, what are you doing here?”
“Hello Harry, Draco. I came to meet someone who wanted to rent our cottage as a weekend home, but they haven’t turned up yet. I’ve waited two hours and over, so I think I’ll go back.”
“They’ve probably been caught up in the demonstration. Which cottage was that?”
“Put off more like … Humblebee Cottage, next one up to Granary.”
“Are you letting or selling?”
“I’d prefer to let. It’d give me a steady income. If I sell I’ll get tempted and go through the money quickly; then I’ll have nothing left.”
“We’ve got two friends who were looking to buy, maybe they’d be willing to rent.”
“Are they magical?”
“Yes! Why?”
“I’ll give them a discount if they pay in galleons; both the muggle bank and Gringotts always charges a fee for changing it.”
“Come and have lunch with us, they’ll be there. Maybe you can do a deal with them instead.”
“It’s worth a try. If I do it’ll recompense me for a lost day’s wages in Hogsmeade.”
There was time enough so they indulged in another cider. Whilst they were drinking it, Gallus emerged from the residents’ door.
“Over here!” Harry called. - - - - “We didn’t know you were coming over.”
“No! Well … Gertie and I got Palma Pressgang to look after the young ones. I’d heard of a couple of houses for sale. Gertie wants one with a decent garden and Willow Tree House fits the bill. So we’ve got an appointment to view just before lunch.”
“Where’s that?” asked Draco.
“It’s in the Close,” Richard replied: “Between your house and David’s farm, close to the house those two new friends of yours bought,” Richard supplied, as he served their drinks. “The present owners can’t look after that big garden, she’s got arthritis and he’s too busy in the city – you know the type – car to the station, commuter on the train for an hour or so each way; bowler hat, the lot. Used to be a show garden and they held church fêtes there not so long ago. Very pretty it was, too. Thanks for that cheque Mr Griphook; I’ll pay it in on Monday.” Richard wandered off to serve someone else.
“Cheque?”
“Yes Harry; I’ve arranged to come over once a fortnight and give them a muggle cheque for the galleons collected. Gringotts normally charge a fee, but seeing it’s for the church, they waived it. If a few more of us move in, the bank will have to appoint an agent here. Like the Newsagent in Hogsmeade. Still, if we buy the house, that’ll make things easier.”
“Gallus Griphook, I thought you were going to see if we could safely navigate through that crowd.” Gertie appeared out of the resident’s door.
“Sorry dear, got involved with Harry and friends.”
“Any excuse to have a drink … Where’s mine then? That cider looks good.”
Richard returned within a minute: “Here you are Madam,” and presented her with a tall elegant glass.
“Thank you Richard. You’d better call me Gertie, Harry does.”
“Okay, if you say so. Dan the policeman just asked to see you Harry. He’s waiting for you outside the main door.”
“Well it can’t be a parking offence for my broomstick can it?” Harry smiled and rose from his stool.
Harry left the others drinking inside the pub and went outside. The policeman was watching the agitators and their placards.
“Dan, you wanted to see me?”
“Oh, hello Mr Potter. I need a bit of your special help. Let me tell you what I have in mind.”
As they had a whispering session Harry’s smile broadened into a mischievous grin.
“Fine, yes. I’ll get Mr Malfoy to help me.”
Back inside Harry took Draco on one side. They both were grinning when they returned to the table.
“Get yourselves a good view of the square, but not outside. This should be fun.”
Gallus invited Aberforth to come to their rooms; saying that their windows overlooked the square.
Harry and Draco went out and stood near Dan. In about five minutes, lowing could be heard coming from Ash Street – the place where Hermione and Harry had first landed at Christmas. The protesters were shouting slogans and obviously did not recognise danger. Round the corner came a small herd of yearlings, nonchalantly driven by David. Up from Woodyates came Washington and Graham, riding a couple of farm horses along the Grumblewell Road. David seemed to lose control of his charges and they became mixed up with the protesters. Somehow Washington and Graham managed to block off their entry and Almoners Row, leading to Chantry Cottage. The cows being slightly frightened just happened to defecate sloppily. Draco and Harry somehow managed to make the cow pats get onto the protesters shoes and splash up onto their expensive clothing.
The smell was atrocious, as Dan had meant it to be. Needless to say the protesters quickly dispersed, attempting to clean their footwear on the grass verge; removing and folding their outer apparel inside-out before gingerly getting into their four-by-fours and driving off. Strangely enough none of the villagers were spattered.
“Thank you Gentlemen; that worked a treat, didn’t it. Not that anyone saw anything did they.” Dan winked. “Now us country folk can go about our business unmolested. Greg and Cole did a deal with David for that stock. So it had to be moved, didn’t it?”
Washington leaned down and said quietly: “It was the harvest bonus that paid for them.”
David rounded up the small herd and drove them on towards Woodyates, flanked by two giggling horsemen. Mrs Amis and Mr Foley came out of their shops smiling and applied their hoses; so any remaining muck was washed down the drain.
Gallus’s party came out of the residents’ door hardly able to contain their laughter. “What was all that about, Harry?”
“We’ve been told that the post-office owners want to sell up, but have no serious buyers. I get the feeling that they’re not too popular with villagers, either.”
“Oh! Well! Mmm … Porlock fancies becoming an agent … I wonder … Mmm.”
“I’d heard that too,” offered Draco.
H: *So that’s what you were referring to at Mrs Amis’s*.
“Come along Husband, we’ve got a clear road now.” Gertie went towards Ash Street.
“Gertie, there’s a much quicker way, via our cottage,” suggested Harry.
“It’ll be poo free too,” put in Draco.
The party walked up Almoners Row then the Griphooks turned left along Chantry Lane, waving as the others went inside to have a delayed lunch.
~~~ LUNCHTIME ~~~
The three Yates [as the trio had been dubbed by the Dumbledorians] were sitting chatting with some of the mages.
“Greg, can you spare Dean and Seamus, this afternoon, Please?”
“We already have done, Harry. They’re at Ginny’s and Tor’s place fixing something. They got there just before the noise in the square began.”
“Have they had lunch yet?”
“What, those two? Once they get stuck in they forget to sleep never mind eat. Well that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but you know what I mean.”
“Fine! We’ll go and see them.” Harry turned round and went five doors back, to almost opposite the vicarage, only to be waylaid.
“Harry, Dear Boy, I’m glad I caught you. Oh! Another addition to your flock?”
“John, meet Aberforth, the owner of Humblebee Cottage. John’s our vicar.”
“Pleased to meet you, Sir.”
“I see you have the tingle, too … Harry, Mrs Pierce has agreed to go into the alms houses, at last. She wants her hens looked after though, now Pullet and Draco have made them well again.”
“Pullet’s already looking after them. He thinks they’d be better off on Woodyates farm. I daresay we could arrange for her to get the money from the sale of a proportion of the eggs.”
“I shouldn’t worry too much about that. She’s made a deal with Ernie and Lavender about renting her cottage. I think Neville and Hannah are in on it too. So she’ll have a reasonable income. Knowing her, it’s the hens’ welfare that worries her. I’ll suggest that they’ll be happier on the farm. Your two trainee medics have made quite a hit with her. What with Wash’s parents, you’ll soon have the entire row under your influence. Oh dear, Isabel’s looking cross and waving at me from the front window, I’d better go in for lunch. Bye!”
The trio poked their heads through the front door of Bagshot Cottage.
“Dean! Seamus! Are you alive?”
“Just a minute Draco!”
More than a minute elapsed since Seamus’s promise.
“Well now me old mates. What’s the problem?”
“Time for you to eat before you fade away.”
“Can’t be doing with all that flummery, don’t y’know we’re busy?”
“Perhaps you don’t want a house here in the row then?”
“What!? Dean! Leave it. Come down here.”
There were a few clangs and some choice swear-words; then Dean appeared.
“Well? What’s so important?”
“Draco says he’s got a house for us, in the row.”
“Not me, but Aberforth.”
“Shouldn’t you be pulling pints in Hogsmeade?”
To save repetition let it be said that the pair came to lunch, struck a deal with Aberforth and three happy parties departed for work. Draco and Harry heaved sighs of relief, stripped and plunged into the pool, hauling out when Kreacher announced tea.
~~~ SUNDAY ~~~
The Lord’s Day bells brought everyone to church; quite a merry throng wandered down Almoners Lane, Ginevra and Astoria latched on to Draco’s and Harry’s arms for the brief walk to church.
D: *What does this mean*?
H: *However, it does feel very comfortable*.
The singers went into the choir-vestry with the muggle trio. During the service Hamish was formally accepted into the choir as a probationer and vested in the deep red cassock the rest of the choir wore. The choir stalls were quite crowded, so the servers had to sit on spare chairs in the sanctuary.
John’s sermon was about the joys of willing service.
On the way out Draco asked John: “Why did Hamish not have one of those white shirts to put on as well?”
“Ah well, you see Dear Boy, there is a probationary period when new singers join the choir. It really pertains to the young ones, but Hamish though it only right that he went through the same ceremony. In a month or two’s time he will take his vows of service, and then he’ll be invested with his surplice.”
“It’ll be quite crowded up front if the others join, won’t it?”
“Mmm … Yes … We’ll have to put benches in front of the choir-stalls at Christmas. Then that’ll make the gangway cluttered for people coming up to receive communion.”
Gallus and Gertie were next in the queue to go out and were introduced to John.
“Some of the old churches used to have a minstrel gallery at the back,” suggested Gallus. “Why not use your back balcony?”
“Oh yes, there’s a church in Liverpool that does something like that,” John remembered. “I’ll have a chat with Dolores about it.”
Harry and Draco looked at each other and thought: *Oh no! Not her*?
“Here she comes with Hamish.”
Dolores was the organist and schoolmistress. She was willowy, black and had bushy hair; the fine bones of her face complimented her lively eyes. Harry noticed her strong keyboard player’s hands when they shook. Our pair, three goblins and Dolores climbed the spiral stairs to inspect the balcony, the one in which the mages group had been sitting a couple of weeks beforehand. Hamish sang whilst Dolores listened from the nave, giving the thumbs up.
“Did you say you had more recruits?” she asked, beaming beautifully, when they met again downstairs.
“About six extras so far for the Christmas service,” Hamish replied.
While they were discussing the use of the balcony, Dolores observed: “There’s only one problem; that of keeping together. The acoustics could slow us down. Our present members know when to start because I nod in time.”
“Mirrors!” Draco snapped.
“What?”
“Draco’s thinking about two mirrors one of which would enlarge you enough for the choir to see.” Harry intervened. “Nothing would impede the line of sight as it would be over the congregation’s heads.”
“Oh yes! Good idea, but who is to fit them?”
“Dean and Seamus,” Draco was feeling excited, Harry could feel the calculations of angles going on in Draco’s head. “Something on the lines of a big shaving mirror hidden in the beams up there; easily seen from the balcony, and carefully angled so it would reflect onto a plain one by the organ console.”
“I already have one for the processions.” Dolores looked slightly guilty. “But I never use it; I just stick my head out of the curtains. John doesn’t seem to mind. Hey Hamish, how about having the practice here this afternoon, see how it goes, Mmm?”
“Right! Good idea, say four o’clock?”
“Yes that’ll be fine.”
~~~ REVELATION ~~~
By this time the party had descended the stairs, Dolores had put her music in order and they had gone across the square to Richard’s pub. Dolores went to come into the back room with them. Being an automatic gentleman, Draco held open the door for her, then realised that she did not know about elves, but it was too late. Dolores’s eyes widened as she saw the small people with big ears.
“Oh dear!” she exclaimed, “Who are these youngsters?” Then promptly sat on the nearest chair looking bewildered.
Automatically Harry clicked into the conversations held with John and the trio, about different beings; altered slightly to suit the circumstances.
“But I teach the village children about fairy stories, how they hide a serious truth, but aren’t really true. Oh dear! Oh dear! No … I think you are just having an elaborate joke on my behalf. They’re just the village kids in fancy dress; not that I recognise any of them.”
“What would help you to believe?” Hamish asked. “Look at me carefully, am I really human, or does my shorter stature, longer nose and fingers mean something else?”
“Erm … So? I’m black, Draco’s got silver hair and is thin, John’s portly and balding. Those two mid-teenagers over there are from Indian stock and they look like twins, but we’re all human. Aren’t we?”
“Just take the concept a little further,” suggested Hamish slyly.
“Okay … I know … I’ve heard of pygmy tribes somewhere in my homeland … So pinkish ones could be on as well, not that I’ve ever heard of any.”
“You have another step to take yet, but let’s do that after lunch; that roast smells far too delicious.”
“Thanks Harry, It’ll give me time to adjust my perceptions. How small are their youngsters?”
“In proportion … Next Sunday I’ll introduce you to my daughters. We’ll be staying over again, and I hope you’ll be their teacher, as I would want them to attend school in the village. They know some, but they will need all the basics so they can understand what they will be taught in secondary school.” Gertie smiled across the table.
“Are some destined for Hogwarts, Gertie?”
“At least one is showing the signs, Harry. The other two are still too young to be sure.”
“Hogwarts, is that a private school?”
“Yes, Dolores, Hamish is one of the Professors, as are Draco and I.”
“You seem a bit young to be Professors, or is it more of this special race thing?”
“We are young; I have an emeritus master’s degree. Draco and I are officially tutors in charge, with the qualifications to match. The college’s governors think we are the best for the job, so here we are.”
“Emeritus master’s degree, at your age; gosh! What in, may I ask?” Dolores looked diffident. “Or am I being too personal?”
“No you’re not. However, I suggest that that revelation will be part of the next step, after lunch.”
Throughout lunch Dolores probed gently, trying to find out. Draco was the best one in defence, Harry usually stuttered. The intellectual fencing match was a wonder to behold, and kept their table on amused tenterhooks right through the meal.
- 54
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