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
- 62
- 63
- 64
[Note: conversation =: “speech” & ‘thoughts’ & *telepathy* & #Parseltongue# & {telephone}]
~~~ NEW FRIENDS ~~~
Thursday morning and, in their Hogwarts apartment, too slightly groggy professors showered under very hot water; carefully washing off what colour had not stained their skin. A pepper-up potion helped them to enter the Great Hall with an amount of insouciance. They managed to whisper their apologies to Hamish.
“Forgiven; Herms let me know what happened. I’d not thought Mr Nott could be so devious. I notice he’s not in his place at table.”
“He’s no longer with us,” remarked Minerva, “His aura marker has disappeared off the school’s plan. No doubt he’s ashamed of what he did.”
Justin huffed: “More like he’s afraid of retribution. If Draco and Harry don’t do something, then I will.”
Blaise made soothing sounds, and Justin’s anger abated a little.
The rumour of what had happened had obviously circulated because the students were very careful not to give offence all day. It lent a surreal air to the pair’s classes. Every student worked harder not to displease their professor.
Thursday evening was the Smiling One’s extra DADA coaching.
Usual greetings over Harry started: “Okay you four, what have you been saying?”
“As little as possible,” said Crassus.
“It’s that tow-rag Amicus who’s been spreading the rumours,” added Mordant.
“He’s not that bad, Mort,” tempered Harry: “I think he wants to show us that he’s reformed.”
“Reformed?” Honorius asked, with a derisive snort: “What, BB?”
“You know why he got the nickname don’t you.”
“Yes,” said Septimus, with a grin: “He got a potion wrong and it boiled over and burnt his balls. And then our blond professor had him wank-off in front of the class.” He grinned even more: “Now we know of your two’s real allegiance, I suppose it was very apt. Did you enjoy watching him professor?” Mr Creswell winked at Draco.
“We both did, not that we’d interfere with a student in our care,” answered Harry: “It wouldn’t be ethical for a start and we care too much about each other as well.”
“Erm … Harry … Did you say both of you?”
“Yes … You see Mr Dendron was sabotaging other student’s potions … … …”
“… … … We’d rather you didn’t spread the tale about our involvement, but you might counter some of the wilder rumours.”
“Can we see the cloak, please?”
Harry fished it out of his pocket and the four students tried it on in turn; each managing to prank one of his mates whilst hidden.
Whilst they were still giggling Crassus suddenly went serious: “Harry, the cloak … Erm … Beedle the Bard … Is it?”
“Yes, it is. I can trace my ancestry back to Ignotius Peverell.”
“Oh! Wow!” Mordant fingered the fabric: “That’s really something.”
“So it’s an heirloom.” Honorius looked impressed: “Yours to pass on to your son. What an honour to have a Hallow in the family. No way can they call you a half-blood, with that as proof.”
“Did your Dad prank people with it?” Septimus lightened the atmosphere again.
“I suspect he did – probably Draco’s predecessor professor bar one.”
“He was a sour old puss, but he knew his business. We’re glad he was exonerated … Come to think of it his demeanour was just right to be a spy.”
“Perhaps, but we’re here to learn a couple more defences. Come on let’s start … … …”
At the end of the session the Smiling Ones made a voluntary mages’ vow not to disclose what they had learned about Mr Dendron and the cloak. Harry and Draco were surprised and said so.
“There are people out to get both of you, for various reasons,” explained Crassus: “Owning a Hallow just adds to that jeopardy. Have you come across the other two?”
Harry had guessed where this was leading: “One is broken and lost, the other securely hidden away where it cannot cause any more contention. And yes, both have been in my possession for a short time; they helped me in defeating Voldemort.”
“Mmm … That agrees … Mmm,” mused Mordant: “They were saved so they could be used to defeat the ultimate evil. Now they must remain anonymous, until another dark lord has to be defeated. I don’t think it’s your Paterfamilias Draco; he’s just the aftershock of Voldie.”
“I hope to Merlin that’s true, Mort. But he’s still got to be defeated,” Draco looked serious: “Goodnight, and thanks for your unsolicited oaths of silence.”
“We hope to enhance peace, Draco, not disturb it. Circe! The Carrows were evil monsters too. We’ll tell you about them some other time. Goodnight.”
Friday was an anti-climax and they were due to be duty professors over the weekend.
“I’ve arranged cover for you this weekend,” said Minerva, at Friday teatime: “You’re to go home and relax. You both still look peaky.”
“Thanks Minerva, I still feel a bit wobbly,” said Draco with Harry nodding his agreement. “However, we’ll stay here in the apartment tomorrow. Otherwise we’d be tempted to vigorous pursuits at the Cottage.”
“Very well, but no school-work, d’you hear?”
“YES MINERVA,” they replied, knowing full well that some leisurely marking would be undertaken in the afternoon.
Early to bed, no springs squeaking, and late up. The Jacuzzi called alluringly so they lazed around there – Pringle, using the portal, visited: “fishing for blobs,” he said as he retrieved the cream out of the water and put it in a minute bucket. After coffee they took their broomsticks for a spin over the Forbidden Forest and the Scottish moors, returning in a better frame of mind. They did do the marking; completing all that they had received. Now they were mentally relaxed as well. Pringle visited a couple of times more before they retired to bed.
~~~ SUNDAY 21/02/99 ~~~
They dressed and clambered through the portal into the sound of church bells. The rest of the Dumbledorians followed them, having appeared from their various dormitories. Heading some of the troops they left Chantry Cottage. Ginevra and Astoria came out to join the quartet as they wandered up the lane, looping their arms into the boys’ elbows, as usual.
“Are you sure you two are all right?” Astoria looked worried, so did Ginevra.
“Would you like us to lean heavily on your arms, looking pale and interesting?” quipped Draco, demonstrating the lean and almost bringing Astoria to her knees.
Harry looked at Ginevra with a calculating smile.
“Don’t you dare, Mr Potter! I shall let you fall if you do.”
Harry smiled, inwardly warning Draco. He began to sham rubbery knees. Ginevra quickly developed mothering instincts and grabbed Harry to support him. He straightened up, grinning. She retaliated by smacking his bum hard. All four of them struggled to straighten their grinning faces as they entered the church porch.
This time the sextet climbed the stairs and took seats in the side [Squire’s] balcony over St Godric’s chapel. During a lull in the service Harry looked around, counting heads. He realised that every Dumbledorian was there. Perspicacious Hermione noticed him noticing.
“The members want a meeting immediately after church,” she whispered. “There are enough others to play football or netball, so we won’t be missed.”
“Fine!” Harry was about to ask what about, when John called the start of the prayers.
As soon as our pair arrived at home they found the entire membership of the Dumbledore Society sitting round a big table in the patio. This had been made up of all the other tables pulled together. Once Harry and Draco were seated, Seamus began:
“Fellow Members, it has come ter our notice that four young wizards have given exemplary service in rescuing our chairman and vice chairman from a fate worse than death. We are all cognisant with the facts by now and I would like ter propose Crassus Urquhart, Honorius Harper, Mordant Bletchley and Septimus Creswell as fit ter become members of our honourable society.”
“We support that motion.” Ginevra and Astoria stood.
The only member who did not stand was Luna, who looked mystified. A hasty whispered conversation with Neville soon remedied that position. Gregory was asked to fetch the four Smiling Ones from Hamish’s house. Whilst they were waiting various members donated normal galleons; out of which Hermione charmed four new medallions.
Not having divulged the purport of their calling, Gregory arrived back with four curious instrumentalists in tow. They stood nervously at the foot of the table until Gregory drew up chairs for them.
Everyone having seated themselves, Ronald stood: “Crassus, Honorius, Mordant and Septimus; very recently you have rendered this society, Magicdom and the muggle world a great service. In recognition of that we would like to offer you Membership of the Dumbledore Society. In accepting, you sign the formation document which magically binds us to you and you to us forever. How say you?”
There was an interval whilst the four Smiling Ones conversed in whispers.
D: *I didn’t know Ron could do formal*.
H: *Neither did I*.
The Smiling Ones stood and faced the assembly.
“WE, CRASSUS, HONORIUS, MORDANT AND SEPTIMUS, ACCEPT YOUR KIND OFFER OF MEMBERSHIP, AND PROMISE TO UPHOLD THE DUMBLEDORE SOCIETY AND ITS MEMBERS FOREVER.”
Hermione produced the parchment and the four new members signed below their compatriot Slytherins’ names. Harry presented them with their galleons and Draco explained how they worked. Everyone crowded round congratulating them; followed by the whole company setting off to the Farmers Arms for a celebratory lunch.
“He was naked when you helped us out of the dungeon. What did you do with Theo?” Harry asked, as the group walked to the pub.
“We muted him, painted him all over in contrasting stripes, tied him to his broomstick, wrapped him in brown paper, poked breathing holes in it and addressed the parcel to Malfoy Manor. We called a few owls and gave the quivering packet to them for delivery,” explained Crassus.
“A funny thing happened next, Draco.” Honorius added. “Your Regent came and started twittering at us. A big bird that is, not one to argue with. He looked at us and appeared to be saying something, the other owls helped him take off and then he went solo.”
Harry looked intrigued. “Mordant, can you mimic what Regent said, please?”
“Err … he didn’t speak, Professor, it was a series of squawks, hoots and clicks.”
“Fine, could you mimic them reasonably accurately for me, please?
Mordant thought for a minute. He mimicked a series of hoots, twitters and clicks at Harry, who asked him to repeat it.
“Thank you. As far as I can make out, Regent wanted to get his own back, as Theo had tried to pull his tail feathers out in order to spite Draco. There was also something about making the Seignior sweat, but that part was not too clear.”
The four new members looked astounded.
Draco stepped in. “You already know Harry is a Parselmouth, well, replace hisses with clicks and he can converse with owls too.”
“OH RIGHT!” They still looked at Harry, but with the smiling admiration that had got them their group nickname.
Harry and Draco had a problem after lunch in the shape of four drunken woodwind players. Because all the Dumbledorians had bought them thank-you drinks; the Smiling Ones had feared they might hurt someone’s feelings if they refused. They had to be mobilicorpussed back to Chantry Cottage and into the four-bunk room. There, Kreacher administered healthy doses of yellow sober-up potion to them. Thanks to his good offices and them paying frequent obeisance to the loo, they were as right as rain by dinnertime, if a little pale.
Whilst the Smiling Ones were getting better Francis arrived. “Hello you two, have you got a room for me please?
“Nice to see you; how long for.” Harry smiled a welcome.
“A couple of weeks, please.”
“There’s one of the downstairs flatlets available”
“Mmm, thanks. I’ve given up my flat in town. I got a very good price as long as I could move out quickly. I miniaturised all my furniture and will move into Lawton House in a couple of weeks’ time.”
“Lawton House?”
“Yes! Next door to Foley’s Ironmongers. The old solicitor has sold me his practice. You both knew I wanted to get out of the rat race; well I have … Oh yes … Draco! Did you know your father is suing Gringotts for the loss of the sale money? He’s doing through the muggle courts, claiming that you were still a minor when the transaction was made. He’d be laughed out of court if he tried it through our legal system, because you’re deemed an adult at seventeen here.”
“How do you know this?”
“The firm I worked for were briefed by the Malfoy Estate. They wanted me to take the case, but I claimed conflict of interests and had a blazing row with one of the partners. The result was; I resigned slightly earlier that I would have done.”
“Conflict of interests?”
“Yes! I can hardly support your claim and the opponents as well, can I?”
“Had I better pay you a retainer, to make it proper?”
“Well … Mmm … I’ll offset it against the rent for the temporary accommodation for me and Washer. We’ll make a paper transaction, but I’ll claim my fees off the defeated party. You know, they don’t have a leg to stand on. Even if the transaction was made before your muggle majority, they were legally bound to keep the results for your benefit.”
“Will I have to appear in court?”
“Probably not, Draco. We might just have to prove you exist by producing you. It won’t be for ages yet; these civil proceedings take ages to appear on the lists. Meanwhile I hope to pursue the Lord of the Manor title for Harry that Michael Miller talks about. It’s a new area of law for me and very intriguing. I’m unearthing all kinds of unrepealed laws. There’s a lovely one that requires all practitioners of magic to be licensed by the Thane of Woadyeates. This, if I understand the old Anglo-Saxon correctly, refers to the lord of the manor, here. Licensed is not quite the right translation, it implies letting your approval be known by public announcement. Slowly that meaning has changed over the years to become our ‘licence’. It’s a pre Christian law, peculiar to this area and might just throw a new light on the Rosmerta Nigrus incident.”
“So you’ll need a retainer from me then?” Harry gave Francis an amused smile.
“May I bill you in Anglo-Saxon please?” Francis grinned back.
“Okay! I’ll pay you the old British fee. I believe a side of beef is about right.”
“May I have it in platefuls please? I’m not sure I can accommodate half a beast in my room at the moment.”
The trio were still giggling when the Smiling Ones appeared in the room.
“We’re due at John’s vicarage for our Lenten Course aren’t we?”
“Yes Crass, thanks for reminding us. C’mon gang we’d better be off.”
“Is it that time? This is Francis our legal eagle. These are our newly found wind band; they saved us from ignominious deportation to the Seignior a couple of days ago.”
General handshaking took place and they went out to the vicarage.
The first session was about the creed; John took it a line at a time. Carefully explaining why it had been written, and telling a quiet story to explain the point. Many of these illustrations came out of the Bible both old and new testaments. Each mini-lesson, struck home with at least one Dumbledorian or friend; enabling them to share a little of their story of where the Spirit was leading them; or how they had been rescued from a fraught situation. Each one of them was given a different verse from Matthew’s Gospel to consider over the week ahead and asked to bring back any enlightenment they had found, to the group, for the next meeting.
Dinner was a quieter time for all those who had attended. Slowly more ebullient spirits crept in; so that, after dinner when they were in the lounge, Francis repeated the tale of the old law, to the gathered Dumbledorians.
“So we must be the Thane’s minstrels,” chortled Septimus. The quartet gave a quick fanfare to mark the statement.
This started much pseudo-medieval joking in which the members joined. Net result: Harry and Draco told the true story of their abduction but it was adapted to suit the middle-ages genre, with Francis as the Lord, Harry as the Bard and Draco his duly licensed mage. Justin even managed a multiple Glamour to make everyone’s apparel equally suitable. The Dumbledorians were pleased that their chairman and his deputy had told them the truth. Some of them, to much laughter, told of the embroidered rumours that were circulating.
There was a little joshing of Draco for being the one first to be caught, and suggesting that his pragmatic mind was not up to duelling. Draco laughingly agreed with that sentiment; suggesting that talents were different and making joking references to various mages specialities.
“… … … Hermione’s a great example how magic chooses its vessel. Her brain’s better than mine and she’d be stronger than me too. That is, if Harry and I weren’t paired. Her mirror spells are new, great and very effective.” Draco looked at a blushing Hermione and winked.
Harry looked at his red faced friend and tried to change the subject: “Um … Herms? Those enchanted sacks … They seemed to have a mirror charm on the inside … Any ideas …?”
“… I think you’re chatting-up my girl-friend, Mr Malfoy.” Ronald, feeling mischievous, interrupted and tried to look belligerent.
“One may admire a thing of beauty, Mr Weasley,” Draco held himself in a superior way: “Without wanting to climb into bed with it. As you already know, my heart lies in another’s breast.”
“Oh! I’m a thing to you now, Mr Malfoy,” Hermione looked tearful: “How degrading. Firstly, you compliment me and then insult me. How is a poor girl to know where she stands?”
“Miss Granger, I have first call on his affections,” Astoria’s claw-like hand gestures seemed to be serious: “If ever he tires of his present amour. Quit flirting with him.”
As the conversation continued in like form, Harry was doing double-takes all around the group and starting to look concerned. Then he caught a whiff of humour via the mind-warp. *So you want to jilt me do you*? he sent.
That caught Draco’s attention; he was now the one wondering how serious things had become. It was Hermione whose face broke. It signalled a group degeneration into helpless laughter. At the end of the mirth Hermione gave Harry a reassuring hug and said she would think about mirror sacks. Saying, in passing, that it was a pity that Theodore’s inventive mind was so set on becoming a satrap.
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