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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
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[Note: conversation =: “speech” & ‘thoughts’ & *telepathy* & #Parseltongue# & {telephone}]
~~~ MUSICIANS ~~~
Thursday evening; four curious Smiling Ones knocked on D&H’s apartment door. In their hands they had Harry’s assignment. He had a quick look through, making sure to ask each one a question about his writing, and then saying he was satisfied and would mark them properly later.
“Will we miss dinner?” Septimus asked. “If so we’ll ask the house-elves to make a package up for each of us.”
“Who’s saying grace tonight?” asked Mordant.
“Madam Sprout is,” answered Harry. “Don’t worry about food; we’ll have some at Gallus’s house.”
“YES PROFESSOR!”
“Did you say ‘Gallus’, Professor? Is it the same goblin who came to Professor Holderness’s class last week and told us about Gringotts?”
“Yes Crassus. Sometime next year we’ll be going to their museum to see some of their collection of magical objects of which certain witches and wizards have use.”
“Will the dragon still be there? The one he said you and Professor Granger and rode?”
“No Septimus. You have already met that dragon in your ‘care of magical creatures’ classes? Her name is Orcas and she helped us defeat the attack on the centaur herd.”
“Oh yes … Professor Hagrid says you can talk to Dragons.”
“Yes, well … Sort of … I do it by touch and thought transfer; Draco can do the same.”
“Is that the same language you used to calm Theo’s snake down?”
“No, that was Parseltongue.”
“You need to watch that one. He was muttering in the Slytherin common room afterwards, about doing you some mischief.”
“Thanks for the warning. We thought he was planning something. We’ll keep a sharp lookout.”
“If we hear any more, we’ll let you know. Not that he confides in us anymore. We don’t care, really. It’s much more interesting to be on this side of the fence. We don’t have to watch what we say with you; you accept apologies, he just festers.”
“Do be careful with him.”
“It’s much easier now we have learnt the mirror defence from Professor Zabini. We had a great time last Thursday playing hex tennis. Mort had to see Madam Pomfrey afterwards because his arse got singed.”
The three Smiling ones cackled in glee, whilst their mate looked defiant.
“It’s all right for you lot, you didn’t get burnt.” Mordant said in mock indignation, rubbing his behind.
Harry was smiling complacently; then he looked puzzled. “I thought you faced each other in Hex tennis. Why were you running away?”
“We were playing double fireball, and I chased a long shot from Crass. Hon sent the other ball after it. He says he angled the shield towards Set, but I still have my doubts.” Mordant scowled at Honorius.
Honorius put on a false air of innocence and the whole group redoubled their laughter, professors included.
“That’s what we meant about being on the side of light. Professor Snape would have given us detention and made harsh comments, even if we had dared to say things like that in front of him.”
“Despite his nasty demeanour, he was on the side of light and Voldemort killed him for it. I was there, hidden, and saw it happen,” said Harry. “Afterwards we found out that Severus Snape was a double agent acting for the light because he was in love with my Mother. As you know; Voldemort killed her and my father, too.”
“Tell us more, please?”
Harry gave them a brief résumé of what had happened.
“Oh! We wondered why he’d had such a good funeral; that explains things.”
By this time, they had passed through the portals plus Chantry Cottage and were nearing Willow Tree House. John’s procession was coming the other way.
“What’s that thing with smoke coming out?” Septimus whispered.
“It’s a thurible or censer. It contains smouldering incense, the smoke represents our prayers,” Draco answered. “The muggle in the robes holding it is called a thurifer.”
“Why the candles?” asked Honorius.
“They represent the light of Christ,” was Harry’s sotto voce answer.
“What’s he sprinkling on the doorstep?”
“Holy water.”
“We use that in some of our potions, don’t we, Professor?”
“Exactly the same sort of stuff that we use, yes,” answered Draco
As the doorstep had come first; so each room was blessed in turn, as before. The previous lunch time Hamish had deliberately taken Harry and Draco aside and taught them the hymn, so they were able to lead their four charges in it.
As Harry had predicted, there were refreshments available. Blessing over, everyone went into the parish marquee which had been set up on the sizable lawn. The buffet dinner was laid out there.
As well as the repast, a muggle string trio played baroque music on a little stage, receiving polite applause at the end of each piece. The Smiling Ones were enthralled by what they heard and sat close by listening intently, lost in a world of musical meaning.
The leader of the trio saw their rapt attention. “Do you play?”
“Yes. Only our student friends think we’re a bit odd, they all like pop music. So we practice well away from them.”
“What instruments?”
“We’re a woodwind quartet.”
“Have you got your instruments nearby?”
“Sort of!”
“Go and get them, please. We have a piece of Mozart for wind band and strings which we’ve been dying to try out. I have the parts here in my music bag.”
Septimus came and asked Harry if he could use the portal. Harry went with him and helped to carry the instruments in their cases back to the marquee.
Almost as soon as the enlarged band of musicians started, everyone stopped talking. Despite lack of rehearsal, the sound emitted had a beautiful poignancy. There was a lively middle section with bassoon and cello doubling in jaunty jumping rhythms, followed by the sort of slow finale that only Mozart could write. The Smiling Ones were astounded at the amount of applause they received. Thereafter the string trio and the wind quartet alternated, allowing the players time to relax with their friends.
Hamish was over the moon. “I have a short piece here for wind band which takes up the themes of the motet the choir will be singing at the next service. Do you think you could play it for us?”
“We’d need to practice and Friday is packed with lessons.”
Harry and Draco were part of the group. “You could use our foursome bedroom over the weekend if Hamish can find you a practice room.”
“We had nothing special booked, except homework and some more practice, so that wouldn’t be difficult,” stated Honorius.
“You could use my front room, or even the covered patio where I rehearse our choir. The acoustics in the front room are dead, there’s more resonance from the hard surfaces in the patio,” Hamish suggested.
“All right!” Septimus looked at his friends, who nodded. “We’d love to come. It’ll be nice to have our music appreciated instead of ridiculed. Dead acoustics help us to hear each other when we practice.”
Hamish took them to meet Dolores.
Whilst they were gone, Draco and Harry mingled; eventually finding Porlock and his family.
“Haven’t seen you since the attack on the bank. How are things?” enquired Draco.
“You’ll probably be seeing more of me here,” replied Porlock. “I’m taking on an agent’s job in the Village. We’re going to take over running the Post Office.”
“That’ll be great! Are you hoping to expand the trade?”
“Yes! We have had one or two ideas, but nothing is set in concrete yet.”
“Try a newsagent’s line. Some of the muggles were saying that they don’t get a proper service from the one in Great Grumblewell,” Harry suggested.
“Maybe an agent for Flourish and Blotts,” added Draco. There’ll be a number of magely families living here fairly soon.”
“Yes I had heard about mages taking out bridging loans to buy houses here. Thanks for those ideas, Friends. That supports the feelings I had.”
“Get the muggle bank to allow you to be their agent too. The villagers dislike the idea of going into Great Grumblewell to do business.”
When they came back the Smiling Ones were living up to their unofficial name.
“That’s great, Professors. There’re Goblins and elves who like our music, and now a group of muggles who perform it as well.” Septimus was jiggling in glee. “We’re glad we came. We weren’t quite sure before, but we came just because you asked us.”
Lying in bed later, after the squeaks had died down and in the resultant quietude, Harry and Draco marvelled at the new talents discovered and wondered where things would lead.
~~~ EXHAUSTION ~~~
On Friday after dinner; as could be expected, the Smiling Ones were at the head of the queue to use the portals to get to Chantry Cottage, complete with music stands and instruments in their cases. Once inside their room, they marvelled at the way the beds were placed partly under the eaves, dumped their night clothes and scooted off to Hamish’s with concentrated practice in mind. Harry promised someone would call them when chocolate was ready.
A haggard pair of wizards came to see them. Dean and Seamus showed our pair what they had in mind.
“Some alterations that mean that we won’t disturb you as much, said Seamus: “Hamish’s people can come and go without coming inter the lounge. So can the people that stay at our house and Ginny’s. Those that stay with Nev and Hannah would do the same.”
“What my love forgot to say, was a way of getting there privately,” put in Dean: “To open up a second entrance into the apparating area and resurface the alley between the cottages’ gardens and the stream. There are already back gates on to it, but hardly anyone uses it because of the mud.”
“What about Wash’s parents?”
“It was his dad who suggested it, in a roundabout way; by asking about the numbers of people coming out of your front door and the apparating cracks he had heard. We had to let him into the secret. It seemed okay to do that because his son already knew. They’re so chuffed that Harry healed and sorted him out, that they are very pro mage at the moment.”
Seamus nudged Dean. “Oh yes … Wash’s dad said it might be a good idea if smaller numbers appeared from each gate, like house guests might. We think that idea has merits. From that flowed the other ideas. We had intended making the door out of the barn when we did the last alteration, but never got round to it.”
Seamus looked cheeky: “In fact we’ve made the door already. We hope you don’t mind.”
“I think you are getting as bad as your father was,” Harry joshed, as they climbed the stairs to our pair’s bedroom. “Every time we see you, you want to pull the insides of the barn to pieces and rebuild it.”
Seamus looked slightly hurt. “At least, us wanting ter rebuild has a basis of sense. Me Old Man just did it on a whim.”
“Don’t get so up-tight, Lover,” said Dean, hugging him. “They’re only pulling your leg.”
“Sorry Harry, Draco. I guess we’re working too hard. I’m feeling quite worn at the moment.”
They were now inside the owners’ bedroom. Draco was standing next to Seamus and put his hand down inside Irish’s trousers. He squeezed and tickled for a minute, but there was no physical reaction.
“You must be tired if you can’t even rise to the occasion. Take the evening off,” Draco suggested
“We were hoping ter finish off the plastering.”
Draco still had his hand around Seamus’s tender bits, so he squeezed.
“Ow! That hurts!” Seamus wriggled, unzipping himself in order to try to pry Draco’s digits off his dong.
“I shall continue to grip until I have a promise of absolute rest from both of you,” Draco stated flatly.
Harry caught on to Draco’s thoughts and stood close behind Dean; reaching round and holding him in a similar grip. Dean was not quite as tired as Seamus and started to expand under Harry’s ministrations. Harry altered his grip and started to stroke, whilst Dean fumbled around behind himself, trying to access Harry’s pubic area. Harry shared thoughts with his mate and Draco pushed Seamus towards Dean. Harry undid Dean’s flies, took Seamus’s hand a placed it on Dean’s boner.
“Now go to your bedroom, lock the door and play with your mate, he needs it; look.”
Draco felt some stirrings beneath his grip, and slackened it; allowing Seamus’s expanding short-arm to appear.
“If necessary we’ll magically enclose you in the room. Do you understand?”
“Yes Daddy Draco. We’ll be good little boys,” squeaked Seamus in a peculiar falsetto.
Just to make sure; our pair followed the two constructors to their bedroom and magically stripped them of all their clothes.
“Do we have to lock you in?”
Dean shook his head negatively with his lips round his partner’s appendage, causing Seamus to groan in delight.
On the way back Draco and Harry detoured to look at the new door. They could see where the plaster needed repairing and where the others had marked out for making window apertures. They studied the sketch plan. All in all, that seemed a good plan. Next they called on Ginevra and Astoria to see what they thought.
“Did you actually lock them in their room, guys,” Ginevra asked with a wicked smile.
“No, they promised not to come out.”
“They may have promised,” remarked Astoria: “That doesn’t mean they won’t have another bright idea and forget.”
Draco grinned evilly: “They were otherwise pleasurably occupied when we left them. Seamus was so tired that he couldn’t rise to the occasion to begin with, but all his apparatus was operating properly when we left.”
“Won’t that enliven them again?”
“Temporarily, whilst they have their fun; lethargy steps in afterwards; at least it does with us at night.”
“Mmm … Us too.”
“What’s happening at Christmas, Harry?”
“Not really thought about it, bar buying a few presents. Are your parents asking us to the Burrow?”
“Possibly … Tor and I are going to the Greengrass’s and then to Mum’s on Boxing Day. George wants to bring Ollivander and Fiorello I believe, no doubt you want to bring Draco.”
“Hmm … I’m not sure I’d be welcome … I was rather looking forward to the Midnight Mass and the morning service too. Hamish is by himself and what about Dean and Seamus? I get the feeling that they’re estranged from their families over them being partners. Then there’s Greg, although I suppose he’ll be with the trio.”
“That lot would overcrowd the Burrow’s kitchen and it’s a bit cold to have a tent outside.”
“Um … Why not hold it at the cottage…? A couple of Dumbledorians have no family left, or at least none they can talk to. I bet the Yates trio will be with their families, so Greg would be at a loose end.”
“I’m not sure how you’d sell that to Mum, Harry.”
“Um … Repayment for past Christmases … Um … Difficulty accommodating everyone at Burrow … Um … Letting her organise it here?”
“Well, better you than me. If you intend doing it, it had better be this weekend when you ask. She was already muttering about preparing when we flooed her earlier.”
“Fine … Shall we apparate after Sunday lunch, Draco?”
“She has asked us a few times and I’ve never seen their house; why not?”
~~~ SUNDAY ~~~
Draco never got to see the Burrow, because when he and Harry arrived at church, Molly and Arthur were sitting in a pew.
“We thought we’d better come and see Godric’s Hollow for ourselves,” Arthur answered: “It seems that quite a few families are going to take up residence in the near future …”
“… And we hadn’t seen our favourite extra son for nearly three months,” added Molly: “Nor seen his house, or met his partner properly, or made sure you’re eating well, Harry …”
The list was interrupted by the service starting. The Smiling Ones acquitted themselves well, during the distribution interlude; coming out smiling even more after the compliments paid to them by the congregation afterwards. Molly was not as fussy as usual, probably because of the new experience and because of the muggle/magely mix going to Richard’s pub afterwards. The smiling ones were somewhat taken aback too, but having had a taste at the house blessing, managed to cope well; becoming integrated into the Dumbledorian/muggle chatter groups.
Molly and Arthur had a look at the cottage and then, with Draco and Harry, took a tour of the village, meeting various mages and ending up at Woodyates.
In the end Harry’s hard sell was not really needed, Molly understood about the extras and new allegiances.
“I still have weepy do’s Harry,” she confided: “Nearly every time I see a vacant chair or look at the clock. Christmas is supposed to be a happy time. It’d be no good if the hostess kept breaking out in tears, would it.”
“So you’ll come and organise it here will you, please Auntie?”
“Yes Love, of course I will. Now … How many are coming …? How long are they staying …? Where will we have the meal …?”
Harry chuckled and answered the questions good-naturedly as best he could. In a way he was pleased that Molly was taking over, so was Draco.
The prospect of the next three weeks promised work with a capital ‘W’ and there was the annual Wizengamot ball to be endured. At least the girls had agreed to accompany them; that would stop the fuddy-duddies looking down their noses. They hoped. But being pleasant to a lot of old fossils was not their idea of fun; however, both of them realised the political implications if they did not show their faces.
Before that there was an assignment to finish for Augusta and then her week of assessment. Draco had his Herbology NEWT on Monday the following week and Harry had his Creatures NEWT on the Tuesday, so that weekend would be crammed with revision. Those two exams also included Dean and Seamus, but at least they were not expected at the ball. Wednesday brought the Hogwarts Express which they were expected to supervise; that was another possible worrying day out of their schedule.
That week Blaise went missing.
“Where’s he gone, Minerva?”
“He’s sorting out his family affairs, yet again, Draco. You know the problems, don’t you?”
“YES!” both of them replied.
~~~ TRAIN ~~~
It was evening. They were on Platform nine and three-quarters. The goblins and elves had used the little room to floo away. The last students and their families had exited the barrier. The Dumbledorians were wishing each other a happy holiday. Draco and Harry looked at each other and sighed in relief. They had waltzed carelessly through the Wizengamot Ball. Augusta had been complementary about their work. Herbology NEWT’s were over, so were Magical Creature NEWT’s. There had not been an attack on the train, although certain student high-jinks had had to be curbed.
Pop: an unfamiliar elf stood before them: “Would the Masters please use the floo, before The Ministry closes it.”
“I didn’t know we were allowed to.”
“For Salvator et Socium Magicales, anything is allowed, especially when the press is awaiting you both outside here and at Number Twelve.”
“Thanks for the warning, kind sir,” Draco gave a little bow, held out his arm to Harry, walked to the fireplace, threw the powder in and called out ‘Number Twelve.’
The elf smiled stepped into the fireplace, touched its ring and both elf and fireplace disappeared. A few seconds later the room melted and became a brick wall for ten days.
The two mages were exhausted and wanted to be quiet. However, they found Blaise there looking agitated. He was accompanied by a female muggle.
~~~ TINGAMOOT ~~~
“Hello Draco, Harry. Meet Gilda, my intended.”
D: *Curious form of words, that*, he sent as they greeted her.
“You know that Gilda’s parents were killed when Voldie’s minions destroyed the bridge, don’t you?”
“YES!”
“And that we met via the rehabilitation service?”
“YES!”
“And that we’re madly in love?” Blaise underlined the fact by snogging Gilda thoroughly.
As they came up for air Harry observed: “There’s no need to demonstrate. We’ve seen the pair of you gooey-eyed a number of times before. I suspect you need some form of help.”
“Yes! We need two reliable witnesses to our engagement. Now, you two, being seneschals fulfil that denomination perfectly.”
“There’s more to it than that, isn’t there Zappem?” suggested Draco: “Perhaps you should explain in a little more detail.”
Gilda chuckled: “See, Darling, I told you they’d want to know more.”
Blaise grinned: “Yes my dear she-who-must-be-obeyed,” and indulged in another kissing session. That prompted Draco and Harry to do the same.
Slightly out of breath, Blaise continued: “It’s my mother again, trying to disinherit me. Because British and Italian thaumic laws are concerned we had to go to the European Tingamoot for a settlement.”
“What’s a Tingamoot?” Harry looked puzzled.
“The European court of magical appeal,” replied Draco: “Very august, and formed of senior members of each country’s Wizengamot. Slightly more advanced than ours too. They have goblin and elfin representatives. Carry on with your tale, please, Blaise.”
“Thanks. She’s been trying to get hold of all the Zabini properties in Italy. Alleging that I am of imperfect mind. She based it on the fact that my father supported Voldemort before he was killed. Now by attempting to marry a muggle she says my judgement is impaired because I’m not following hallowed family traditions. Family traditions are more forceful on the continent, especially in Italian thaumic circles. Luckily for me my Zabini grandparents came out of seclusion and supported my arguments. Eventually we came to an agreement. Our side had to give up a property so that my mother and sisters could have a residence and an income. The coryphaei concluded that Mother was being too greedy because she had income from her previous husband’s estate. Needless to say she lost when our side voluntarily gave up the villa in Rome. She now has her seat in the capital whilst I retain the inheritance to the Casa Seigniorial in Sicily plus its vineyards. However, my grandparents still live there.”
“I’m so pleased,” averred Draco, jocularly: “I enjoy those wines your vineyard produces.”
“I know you do,” Blaise humorously returned: “Because you get them free!”
“Gilda giggled: “Tell them the rest Darling.”
“There’s a clause in my father’s will that stipulates that I must be married before I’m twenty-one and have an heir, male or female, in order to inherit fully. It’s the same clause as in my paternal grandparent’s testament; not that they’re dead yet. Thus I need your declaration of our engagement. It’s the first step towards marriage and we hope to have produced a suitable heir or heiress by the time I’m twenty-one. If not, then the properties go into a family trust.”
“Perhaps, Blaise, you could convert the family trust and combine it with the Harco trust.”
“Now there’s an idea … Mmm … I’ll talk it over with my advocate after the holidays.”
Blaise wasted no time and got down on one knee before asking Gilda to marry him. She accepted and received an ancient Zabini engagement ring. Looking at it Draco remarked that it was worth a few thousand galleons and hoped Blaise had it properly insured. After which the two seneschals signed and sealed official affidavits which were owled off to the European Tingamoot office.
And then it was Christmas Eve! Even more tired, all four of them bedded down at Number twelve.
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