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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
- 63
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[Note: conversation =: “speech” & ‘thoughts’ & *telepathy* & #Parseltongue# & {telephone}]
~~~ HARCO TRUST ~~~
Monday started a quiet week, therefore the young professors had plenty of time to themselves. Augusta’s set work was finished by Thursday evening; so the Smiling Ones’ group tutorial was relaxed and giggly. The four soon became used to calling Draco and Harry by their given names. Invited to take chocolate ‘chez professors’ after practice, the Smiling Ones readily accepted. Phealey and Pullet served the chocolate and joined the group, producing a Winky made cream-jam sponge for them all to share.
Draco went to the drinks cupboard: “Most of the school think they know how Harry and I got together, and about our previous rivalry. So how did you four get together?” he asked, as he gave out glasses of Grand Marnier to accompany their refreshments.
“We grew up together in a Manchester suburb. Our parents live in a small enclave of magical people, so when we showed the talent we were encouraged to support each other,” said Honorius. “My mum’s a squib, but I bred true. I think that that brought my parents together even more than they were before. Both of them have good bloodlines. I’m glad Mum’s family didn’t throw her out, now they’re quite proud of her.”
“I think it was my parents who introduced us to the instruments,” Crassus mused. “Both of them are magical and musical. They belong to the Hallé Chorus and play keyboard instruments as well. We have a lot of fun at Christmas creating variations based on carol tunes.”
“My dad was muggle-born,” Septimus revealed. “As head of the Goblin Liaison Office he was friends with Professor Holderness, still is, for that matter. However, now he’s Minister, things have changed, he still relaxes by playing various woodwind instruments. My mum’s the one who has connections with other magical families all over the place. She gave me my own clarinet when I passed my OWL’s; before that I borrowed Dad’s when he wasn’t playing.”
“I’m glad my brother Miles has left Hogwarts.” Mordant made a face. “He’s a right moron and believed all that Voldie said. He was really pissed off with you, Harry, when you killed the monster. He’s with the Seignior, much to my parent’s chagrin. He’s threatened them with mayhem more than once. That, coupled with the local muggle gang warfare, has my folks wanting to find somewhere else to live. Ron and Herms say they will come and add to the house wards, but that doesn’t solve the problem outside, does it?”
“Richard was saying something about a group of incomers being fed up with the country and wanting to sell,” Draco put-in. “They formed a consortium to buy the five cottages next to the solicitors in Grumblewell Road. They’re the muggles who treat the villagers like dirt. They organised the protest that we covered in cow dung.”
“How did you do that?” Four eager faces looked interested.
Harry retold the story with Draco adding adornments, much to their joint merriment.
“There’s another family who live nearby to us in Manchester. They’re both muggles but their grandson is magical. The Thomas’s have been drawn into our parents’ circle. The friendship started because his grandparents thought Peter was defective somehow,” said Mordant. “Our folks soon put them at ease and things have moved on since. They’re really chuffed now he’s started here. We all call them Granddad and Nanny because ours were all killed by death eaters in the first war.”
“That’ll be the Peter who did that extra work in the evening, Draco” observed Harry.
“Oh yes! He really concentrates in my lessons, that one mistake has never been repeated. He ought to lighten up a bit though. Thomas … perhaps those muggles are related to Dean?”
“Are they black, Mort?”
“No, same stock as us, I imagine. So perhaps there’s no connection.”
“Peter’s musical too and into brass instruments, I think he fancies Jazz. Not normally our scene. I’m not sure what happened to his parents.” Mordant pulled a face. “I know that Granddad and Nanny are fed up with their surroundings. Granddad is about to retire. I wonder if they’d like it here in the village.”
“Professor Holderness has us playing some hornpipes and things for the dance on the Saturday at the end of the holiday, so all our folks have booked in at the Farmers Arms for a long weekend.”
“Get them to have a chat with Francis, our solicitor. He’ll know the details of the sale, if there is to be one.” Draco saw the quartet looking dubious and realised that they might still feel timorous about approaching a new adult. “One of us will introduce you, no need to worry.”
“Thanks! We’ll ask our folks when we see them. May we use the four-bunk room again, please?”
“No problem, as long as someone else hasn’t booked it,” said Harry.
“I’ll check with Elder Kreacher, shall I?” volunteered Phealey, going to the portal. He was back two minutes later. “It’s booked for a woodwind quartet from Friday evening to Monday morning for the relevant weekend, so I guess it’s yours, friends.”
“Thanks for finding out Phealey.”
“No problem! Just leave the things you want moving on top of your beds the morning before. We’ll make sure they’re moved, Okay?”
“Are you sure?” queried Honorius.
“That’s what we overworked and underpaid house-elves are for, isn’t it?” Pullet wrung his hands and drooped his ears comically.
Mordant knelt down and gripped Pullet’s shoulder gently: “Possibly, but you’re different. You teach us things and treat us like friends.”
“So? Friends can help each other, can’t they?” the elf replied.
“Oh … Yes … Well … I suppose they can. Let us know when we can return the compliment.” Mordant looked baffled.
“Actually, just between us here;” Pullet adopted a confidential pose. “It’s the Hogwarts elves who will do the moving. They all hold Elder Kreacher in reverence, and we seem to be regarded as his lieutenants; not that we’d abuse our honorary position, of course. However, it does help when Draco uses up all the Grand Marnier in one night.” Pullet gave Draco and arch look.
“Don’t complain too hard, friend elf, you were the last to be served and I had to wring out the bottle to get enough for your voracious thirst,” countered Draco.
“Okay! Okay! Just so you have no room to complain.” Phealey snapped his fingers six times and six large bottles of the said liqueur appeared. He piled them into Draco’s arms. “Will that be enough for the next hour, Sir?”
Draco did a quick relocation spell on the bottles, sending them into the drinks cupboard. “It’s all right clicking your fingers like castanets. What good is a fandango when I’m dying of thirst?”
Pullet produced a pint glass full of the amber-orange liquid. “That might keep you happy for a few minutes; we’ll have your seconds ready in five … I don’t know! Some wizards are all demands and no thanks,” Pullet archly replied, winking at Crassus.
“Okay! I give in. I hope you don’t expect me to drink all this,” Draco flourished the glass.
“It’d be fun to make you; like the cold cure when you were young that Sonny tells us about, but I think Harry would be displeased at your lack of rigidity when you get into bed.” It was Phealey’s turn to waggle suggestive eyebrows.
The Smiling Ones jaws had slowly dropped open to their fullest extent, as they listened to the continuing repartee.
“Erm … Harry … Do they normally go on like this?” asked Septimus eventually.
“Sometimes it’s worse,” replied Harry: “Both parties can be extremely crude. It’s what you get when beings treat each other as equals. However, I’d not have it any other way. Phealey and Pullet have very good brains, and Kreacher outshines them. Why should we limit them to menial tasks, Mmm?”
“Yes I know. They’ve both helped me out when I got into a mess with one of Draco’s potions.” Septimus turned to the two elves. “Thanks guys, you were great. Without you that exacting professor over there would have deducted house-points.”
Septimus wondered if he’d gone too far until Draco burst out laughing. “No problem Set, I’ll just double them next time you drop a clanger.”
Harry looked at his watch, summoned a piece of parchment and scribbled on it, placing his family signet ring on the hot wax at the bottom. “Um … it’s well after midnight. If a prefect or Argus Filch finds you, show them this. It will avoid you having points deducted for being in the halls after lights-out. Good night, we’ve enjoyed your company. There’ll be other times, no doubt. Don’t let us down in the morning by missing the Headmistress’s class.”
“NO HARRY. THANKS FOR THE CHAT AND THE DRINKS. GOODNIGHT ALL.” The four crept out of the sitting area and through the doors into the school passageways.
Two pairs of beings made their way to their two beds, there to help their libidos get rid of their almost alcoholic amorous feelings in a truly delightful way.
~~~ WEEKEND 13-14/04/99 ~~~
Friday evening was cold and there was a sprinkling of frost at the cottage – quite different from Hogwarts where there was still a thick blanket of snow, but the sun had been warm. It was definitely an evening for huddling around the fire and swapping anecdotes. Despite the water being warm and undercover no-one fancied swimming. Draco and Harry went up early to bed and stood in the bubble window, glad to be in the warm atmosphere looking out on the glittering moonscape. Even gazing at it made them shiver and feel cold; then it was a joint hot shower, and conjoined hot antics in bed afterwards.
London on Saturday was a little warmer and the foggy, still atmosphere smelled of traffic fumes. They used the Portal and Cabinet whilst other well wrapped mages hurried through the swirling mist, disappearing inside the telephone box and being thankful that, underground, the Ministry of Magic was as warm as the ‘Tube’; both of them retaining a reasonable temperature in the colder months. The seneschals were attending another licensing session at the Wizengamot; the 3W’s fireworks application was passed without comment, as was Tom’s alcoholic licence renewal at the Leaky Cauldron. Then it was the turn of certain street traders. Harry looked at one of them and felt some recognition. According to the application the wizard’s name was MacDougal Seiffert.
H: *That wizard’s aura reminds me of someone, but I can’t quite place him*.
D: *He keeps glancing at you guiltily when you’re looking elsewhere. Perhaps he’s sold you a stolen item, or something duff*.
H: *Stolen item … Yes … That’s it … Mundungus Fletcher*.
D: *The Aurors have a warrant out, don’t they*?
Harry looked at the outstanding warrant list: *Yes, it’s here: ‘Awaiting Enforcement’*.
Draco was scribbling in his note-book. He tore off the page, folded it into an aeroplane: “Volare ad Officium Auror!” He pointed and the plane took off. Two minutes later Auror Mackenzie appeared in the well of court and looked up at Draco.
Draco stood and pointed at MacDougal: “Revelio Homnum Verum!”
Harry also stood: “Do your duty Auror. I believe warrant XP 3900 covers the arrest.”
“Thank you Seneschals. Come along Mundungus, you’re nicked.”
The Wizengamot members tittered whilst trying to look severe.
It was only a morning session so for lunch our three seneschals decided to accept an invitation to lunch in a muggle restaurant for a change. The Three Keys had been recommended by a couple of other seneschals so a small party of mages went in. The table was not quite ready therefore, supplied with a complimentary sherry, they sat in the lounge. Hamish picked up one of the muggle magazines ‘Country File’ on the table and glanced at it. His eyebrows lifted as he concentrated on an article.
“Hey guys, this article’s about our area. It seems that the authorities intend to reopen Great Grumblewell and Godric’s Hollow Railway Station, under pressure from various commuters and the green lobby. It goes on to say that at one time the whole line had been threatened with closure, but one of the limestone quarries managed to get a stay of execution. This was backed by the Local Authority who did not want big lorries blocking the narrow country lanes. They were supported by a petition from the residents. The result was that the passenger service was terminated but the stone trains still rumbled through Griffondale. Now the environmentalists have persuaded a train company to reinstate the local passenger service. However, it seems that no-one wants to take on our station itself; so they will probably have to demolish it.”
“It is a bit run down; we had a look around on one of our walks,” Draco remarked: “I wonder if one of our friends would like to have a go. I’m sure Seamus and Dean or the Yates team would help to make the place whole.”
“I’m not sure why they called it Great Grumblewell and Godric’s Hollow to begin with,” Harry looked puzzled: “Great Grumblewell is nearly five miles away over the fells, but you can see our village from the platform.”
“It’s because Great Grumblewell is a market town, Harry,” supplied Draco: “To the muggles that would mean somewhere of importance. It was mentioned in the Doomsday book but St Godric’s was only shown as a chapel of ease, with one landowner. He was probably one of your ancestors.”
“D’you think Douglas Filch would be interested in taking up the post? I was chatting to him on the last Hogwarts Express, he said that he and his wife want to settle down, and having to work peculiar hours is not helping their marriage. I got the feeling that there were health issues too; not that he said anything directly.”
“It’s worth a try.”
After a very tasty lunch they ported to the cottage and onwards intent on asking Argus if his son might like the job. It was the first time our pair had seen him smile, at least they thought it was a smile. Argus thanked them – another first – and said he would get in touch and let them know. Harry and Draco said they would help out financially if necessary, that got them a further round of gratitude. In response to their concern Argus took them on a personal tour of the cellars under his jurisdiction. As has been suggested, there were indeed all kinds of instruments of torture there and he lovingly described their uses. Our pair got the feeling that he was more a museum curator with a grisly sense of humour, than a would-be torturer. They even had a look into the room where Theodore had held them.
On Monday evening The Weasleys took over Number Twelve’s ballroom to celebrate Ronald’s nineteenth birthday. The Dumbledorians were not too late to bed, so by one o’clock in the morning the elves could retire, being told by Harry that he would see to breakfast in the morning, so they could sleep in. Draco and Blaise volunteered to wash up the dishes afterwards.
Later on in the week Argus came back to them saying that he had talked to his son and reported that Douglas had a long weekend coming on Friday in two weeks’ time. And that they had arranged with the railway company to view the station. Thus Douglas and his wife received an invitation to stay at Chantry Cottage because Harry said they had a spare double room. Argus added that Douglas’s wife already worked as a ticket clerk and that they had originally met in one of the railway worker’s clubs. He also made further tentative enquiries about some financial help, which received an affirmation from both Draco and Harry.
~~~ FAMILY ~~~
Saturday, and no Wizengamot, Draco and Harry were enjoying a quiet coffee in their cottage study when Francis put his head round the door.
“Are you in a rush friends? Only I’ve been doing some research and I’d like to tell you about it.”
“It’s a lazy day, Francis; would you like some coffee?”
“Yes thanks!” Before they had cleared a chair for their lawyer friend to sit, one of the elves had put his coffee on the desk and refilled the biscuit plate.
Draco scowled as Francis dunked his biscuit, ate it and sipped some of the beverage.
“Harry! It seems that both of you have had ancestors here. When I took over the practice I found a large file marked Lord of the Manor. Intrigued, I started to read and in my spare moments have found something interesting. Nigrus, Niger, Noyre, Blake, Bleake and Black keep on recurring in my researches. Even Marcus had a Black or two in his ancestry. I can now prove both of your multiple connections to the title of Lord of the Manor and its inheritance. It seems that when the Black family disowned someone there was another hidden Black family who accepted them. Only they added an ‘E’ to make it Blake, Rosmerta was a forerunner of that second family. It seems that the dark side of the Black family had all the money and the light side had all the morals and was poorer. The Blakes deliberately avoided the limelight. Most of Draco’s connections came from the wealthy side, whereas even more of Harry’s came from the impecunious one. Not that either of you didn’t have some connections to the other. I’m sure that Harry can claim the Blake’s ‘Semper Integer’ for his motto, especially as he was left Grimmauld Place by his godfather. As to inheritance; Draco has nineteen connections whereas Harry has forty-three.”
“How was it that the wealthy family kept the Black name, if Harry has so many connections?” Draco asked.
“Most of the connections are on the distaff side. The eldest female’s husband kept changing his name when the male line died out. Same as they altered ‘Semper Integer’ to ‘Toujours Pur’. The present Black surname should really be Arthur. I had a look at Narcissa’s connections, she has only eighteen. I suspect therefore that the bulk Lucius’s fortune, inherited via Draco’s mother and brought into House Malfoy, is probably legally more House Blake’s and therefore yours Harry, more than hers. That is if there is anything left. With your permission, I shall file a counter suit claiming it back for you. More of a tactic to make Lord Malfoy look like a scheming money-grabber and disregarder of young people’s rights, than anything else, but you never know, do you.”
Harry smiled and then looked worried. “Off the record, Francis, I would not want to have Draco’s mum left penniless. His dad I care nothing for. Perhaps, if we win, we could make her a generous allowance or something.”
Draco gave Harry an enormous thank you kiss, which had Harry breathless and Francis an embarrassed pink.
“I think her dead sister’s inheritance should be yours also. That would be much easier to stake a claim to. The Ministry holds it in confiscation. An application to the Wizengamot would fall on receptive ears, I’m quite sure. It would put a warning shot across Lucius’s bows too. Surprising as it may seem, muggle courts take cognizance of the Wizengamot’s decisions. They regard it as part of the same division as the church’s consistory courts and some of the almost defunct manorial courts.”
“Yes, go ahead with the Bellatrix claim. I’m not sure about depriving Narcissa, though.”
“I could post a notice of intent, without proceeding, if you like. It would give them a warning, but we don’t have to proceed; especially if they start talking about settling out of court.”
“Are you happy with that, Lover?”
“Hmm … Yes … Especially if we intend to let Mother have an allowance. Maybe I could write to her secretly when Francis posts his notice of intent?”
“It would have to be secret, are you sure Lucius won’t get a whiff of it?” Francis looked worried.
“Oh yes! Mother and I had a special way of sending letters. We used it when my Father was in one of his ‘get Draco’ moods. I escaped quite a few beatings because of it. Likewise, when he was ranting about imbecile females, I used to send her a warning and she went to the Lestranges until things cooled down. He never caught on,” Draco chuckled.
“Let’s get the Lestrange money back first. That will be comparatively easy. I can see the Prophet’s headlines: ‘Ministry grants He-who-lived-twice His second rightful inheritance’, or some such words. Rita will be scurrilous, of course, but that will only strengthen the right-thinkers resolve to let you have it. The Minister will grumble, but in the present political climate he won’t dare oppose us. The Seignior will take note and be furious, but he’ll also see it as a warning. I imagine he’ll attack somewhere, pity he can’t find Grimmauld Place, isn’t it?” Francis had a big grin on his face.
“I rather he didn’t find it either. We have a lot of Duindhu heirlooms stored there,” said Harry, hurriedly.
“Duindhu? Of Course! I found a couple of references to them also. Silly really, my memory must be slipping! It’s where your money came from Draco.” Francis slapped his own head in mock exasperation. “There was another one too: ‘Draigdu’ was another of the earliest relatives mentioned. This Black Dragon was the guardian of the temple of Cerrunnos.”
“I bet that’s the ruin where the secret tunnel comes out,” said Draco enthusiastically. “Seamus says it has an Ogham inscription in ancient Welsh.
“Really? Will you show it to me, please?”
“Okay! Tomorrow, when it’s light,” replied Draco: “Hmm … So Harry is the true Lord of the Manor …”
“… Not another silly title.”
“I suppose we could call you ‘My Lord’ but it isn’t usual,” Francis grinned: “It’s more about what you own. To begin with, your long ago ancestors owned everything around here. They settled their serfs in cottages around the manor house. Slowly they sold off the plots of land or gave them to retainers who had served them well, until all the properties bar a couple in the village no longer belonged to them.”
“So I own nothing …”
“Yes you do, this cottage and the partly ruined building called Milkwood Hall.”
“That’s the one next door, Harry. Do you remember us looking at on that walk a couple of months ago?”
“Fine … This cottage and a ruin.”
“There’s the Milk Wood itself which adjoins yours Harry, and a sizable chunk of moorland which includes Niggle Edge. You own other things as well, when your ancestors sold or gave away land they retained various rights, notably mineral deposits and hunting with spear, bow or blunderbuss. In other words, should you join the Blakely Hunt you could ride over anyone’s garden in the area, you could also take your gun and shoot game or vermin, and then there’s the right to all fish out of the River Gryff and its tributaries. I’ve found a not inconsiderable sum of muggle money in a number of accounts which you can claim. The local fishermen and the hunt are licensed to the Blake Estate and pay annual fees. I’ve laid claim to the money, all you have to do is go in and provide the papers proving who you are.”
“More money? I thought my parents’ inheritance was large, now you suggest I can claim the Black inheritance that was Bellatrix’s and this new Blake rental money. How much is the new one?”
“It almost makes you a multimillionaire Harry; I’m still uncovering other rents and liens as well; mostly in kind. Our ‘side of beef’ joke was fairly near the mark in some cases. There’s a clause in the sale contracts of all the houses in the village that gives you a yearly chief rent. Peculiarly there is also a reversion clause too. That states that if the property is left untenanted by the family for a year and a day the property reverts to the ownership of the lord of the manor. There are a number of such properties which I have claimed on your behalf. That means that, once repaired, you could rent them out to whomever you want.”
“That’s nice, there are a number of Dumbledorian families wanting to move in.”
“One interesting clause states that the local mill owner must grind your corn for free.”
“Michael will love that!”
They all chuckled.
“Seriously, this amount of muggle money and property will attract the Inland Revenue, wanting Britain’s cut. What I suggest is that you form a family trust. Pooling your money and properties in this area, and promoting the resultant charity as an educational trust or some such. That way you avoid all kinds of tax problems. Most of the family trusts allow its directors a place of domicile within the estate’s boundaries, so Chantry Cottage would remain the same, to all intents and purposes.”
“I heard Millie saying something about that – now what was it …? Oh Yes … She’d become a director of their family trust once she was eighteen, or something like that.” Draco said: “I think Father had something like that.”
“So you would have become a director had you not escaped.”
“Hmm … Probably.”
“So how about we two pool everything?”
“Most of its yours anyway, Harry.”
“The farm is shared and I suspect the trust must have at least two directors.”
“Yes Harry, that’s correct.”
“Shall we call it the Harco Foundation, since it has elements of both our names within it?” Harry asked.
“Are you absolutely sure?”
“We’re partners in everything else, so why not this? I doubt the Fluence will let us part, not that I want to.”
Draco looked at Harry and blushed. Hesitantly he said: “Yes, I would like to share. Harco Foundation sounds like a good title.”
Seeing that he had eager recipients, Francis went into more details. Explaining that many of the great families, muggle and magical, had similar trusts, something that Draco had endorsed. In the end the Harco Foundation was agreed to be formed and a preliminary document drawn up with Draco and Harry as trust directors. Francis promised to draw up various other transfer documents for next weekend to complete the partnership.
###
They found Hamish, Hermione and the rest of the group; telling them what they were doing. The six of them went to the Farmers Arms to toast the Harco Foundation’s launch with champagne. Later on they celebrated again listening to the Smiling Ones and dancing in the village hall.
###
The result of deliberations over the next few weeks was that all six of them became directors because Hamish, Blaise and Justin wanted to protect their family fortunes as well.
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Harco Empire