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
- 68
- 69
- 70
[Note: conversation =: “speech” & ‘thoughts’ & *telepathy* & #Parseltongue# & {telephone}]
(Gay sex invarious forms - including a bloody death
~~~ RECOVERY ~~~
Once the search party had moved away, Draco got Harry to lie down on his back. Next, Draco stripped almost naked, smeared Harry’s pre-cum over everything and sat on Harry’s prick. Harry was still on automatic and responded to the stimulus energetically. As he gyrated enthusiastically Harry’s mind slowly withdrew from its automated state. He shot into Draco and then blinked. Draco sent the dribbling offering to the awaiting broonie.
“Hey Lover, why are we doing this here? Why am I so tired?” Then Harry fainted.
Despite promising not to watch, Gregory had. When Harry fainted he rushed to Draco wanting to help.
“That’s what the buggers did to me, for days on end,” he said, as they tried to make the comatose Harry comfortable.
“And me too, Greg.” Draco wrapped his cloak round Harry and then put his own clothes back on. “That Expecto Spermatozoa hex is both dreadful and delightful at the same time. Isn't it?”
“Yes, and it’s so compelling. I feel awful about it, but I still get hard thinking about it.”
“Hmm, me too. I just hope Harry can cope with the conflicting feelings. I once saw a beautiful muggle boy bewitched with it. The six death eaters double engorged him and they had him shooting once every quarter of an hour for sixteen hours. Eventually he blew a penile blood vessel; his end was extremely painful and very messy. I try to remember that whenever I start to fantasize about using it.”
“One day you’ll have to describe that in detail to me. It might help my temptations too.”
“What you need is a loving mate to replace your fantasies with healthier ones.”
“Yes Draco, but where does an ugly gormless guy like me, find one?”
During the conversation Blaise had returned and the three of them were fashioning a stretcher to put Harry in and take him home. The other three arrived with everything but his clothes and they all apparated straight back to Toppers Wallow towing the two encapsulated satraps.
~~~ BACK HOME ~~~
The assembled DA members were considerably relieved to see their leader back among them, even if he was unconscious. The rescue party quickly took Harry to his room and laid him gently on his bed. A blushing Hermione exited quickly when they uncovered him, because his erection was still purple, hard and throbbing. Once they could see Harry was comfortable the rest of the party soon left, leaving Draco gently sponging the dirt off his lover’s body.
Hermione and Ronald summoned the Aurors and gave the two encapsulated satraps to them. Then they sat down and, as they had been trained to do, wrote out their special constable reports on the incident; owling them off to headquarters.
Ernie arrived and examined the recumbent person. “It’s mainly exhaustion, Draco. I’ll continue cleaning him if you go and make up this aromatic oil recipe. It’s the one that helped you to recover.” Ernie handed Draco the parchment
“Okay!” Draco was glad to be able to do something to distract his mind from his worry about Harry. It was also, he thought, a way of doing something positive to aid his lover’s recovery. He worked feverishly with pestle and mortar grinding the ingredients into the finest powder possible. He welcomed an equally worried Pullet who was set heating the Sicilian olive oil to the correct temperature. Mage and elf worked over the hot cauldron stirring gently until all the ingredients had fused. The smell of lavender was almost overpowering and, despite the closed doors, drifted up the stairs alerting the company to the potion being brewed.
Draco magically cooled a small vial and left the rest to revert naturally to room temperature; Pullet promised to bottle that residue later. Arriving in the bedroom Draco found Harry clean but comatose.
Ernie giggled slightly. “Now you get to do for Harry what Harry did for you. He’s not as dehydrated as you were, but he’ll still need plenty of liquid replacement and a half hourly oiling.”
“Right … What about his stiffy?”
“Once he wakes up you two can work that out together. Try and make him relate to you as you have fun. Let him know he’s pleasuring you, not just indulging his personal hormones. He has to distance himself from the compulsion and you’re in a very good emotional position to help him do that.”
Under Ernie’s instruction Draco quickly learnt how to feed a supine Harry the liquidised food that a worried Phealey had made. Draco liked the oily massage bit, gritting his teeth when he had to avoid Harry’s beckoning pubic area which was just begging to be played with. After three hours Draco’s sexual tension was beginning to be get on top of him; so when Ernie came to relieve him, Draco immediately retired to the bathroom and pumped his frustration away.
On Draco’s second watch in the middle of the night Harry became restive, moving his abdomen up and down suggestively. Draco needed all his resolve not to touch what was obviously asking for attention. Just before he gave in the episode passed and Harry’s gyrations lessened back into sleep.
~~~ TUESDAY ~~~
After breakfast; on the mid-morning watch Harry’s eyes opened whilst Draco was giving him his frontal oily massage.
“Hello Lover. What have you been doing to me? I feel so randy. Why the oil, I smell like a spring garden? Are you going to relieve me, or do I have to do it myself?”
Draco had thought through his varied possible reactions. “Hello Lover, you’ve been out for hours. I’ve grown really frustrated waiting for you to fuck me.” Draco had arranged to be only wearing a bath robe, so he shrugged it off and showed Harry his winking rosebud.
“Are you sure it’s not my turn?”
“I’ve forgotten,” Draco lied. “C’mon make me happy, you’ve had it more times than me.”
“Oh! Are you sure?”
“Yes, quite sure.” In his brain, Draco added the times Seamus and Dean had been penetrated by Harry to the total, thus relieving his conscience; conveniently discounting Voldemort’s minions raping him.
Harry indulged in no foreplay, plunging into the offered hole quite quickly. Draco was in a little pain, but he held his face in a smile as Harry pumped to and fro. Soon the pain gave way and Draco’s enjoyment slowly increased. He exaggerated his groans of ecstasy to help Harry out of his single minded fuck-sequence. Harry’s reserves were depleted but his rod was now really pleasuring his partner. Draco came once, but Harry ploughed on with the hovering hopeful broonies in attendance. Draco became delirious with passion throwing his body into synchronised convulsions, no longer having to fake any of his responses at all. This time they came together and an exhausted pair relapsed into sleep with a hard Harry still inside his mate.
Ernie arrived to relieve Draco and was slightly surprised to find him on the bed sleeping with a somnolent Harry plugged in. Draco opened his eyes.
Quietly he said, “He gave me a very good time and I let him know that he did.”
“Right, shall I get Phealey to bring you both some proper lunch?” was the equally quiet reply from Ernie.
A smile started on Harry’s face and he wiggled his rooter, making Draco gasp. “In about an hour would be lovely, thank you Ernie. My lover seems to like what I can offer him. Then he has to return the complement, or I’ll definitely be ahead of him.” Another more lascivious squirm took place and Ernie saw the growing looks of passion on both the partners’ faces.
“Err … Right … I’ll do that.” Ernie fled, red in the face, carefully closing the door behind him.
“That charm … Definitely … Does something … For the libido … Doesn’t it?” Harry was now moving rhythmically behind Draco and had his hand caressing Draco’s erection.
“Yes … I remember … It well,” Draco replied, quivering with lust and thrusting back.
Both of Harry’s hands were now engaged around Draco’s cock, one pumping and the other stroking his inflamed mushroom. Excited beyond his wildest dreams, Draco’s muscles contracted and thrust in time with Harry’s increasing fervour. They both gasped as one final deep conjoining worked its magic. Draco felt Harry release inside him, and favoured Harry’s hand with an equivalent creamy libation.
While they rested the broonies collected.
Half an hour later Harry moved again, still hard and still inserted.
“Do you want to fuck me again?” asked Draco.
“Um … Um … No! You have to have some fun too, you know.”
“I did … it was great … both, having you inside me and your hands giving me a work-out.”
“So? It was a double whammy for you, then?”
“Okay! I get the point. Take it out and turn over.”
Once the return performance was complete and the broonie guard satisfied, Harry lay in Draco’s arms, softening and snuggling.
“Thanks Lover. The double thrill is good isn’t it? At least that awful compunction has gone. I wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t rescued me.”
“You’d be tired and still at it. You’d be shriekingly sore and still wanting more. You’d be shamelessly offering yourself to anyone, begging to have the hex fired at you. Then your heart or your lungs would give out, or even worse you’d burst a blood vessel and bleed to death.”
Harry shuddered as Draco made the list. “Sadistic bastards, weren’t they?”
“Yes! But that’s Voldie for you.”
Phealey arrived with an aromatic tray of delicious food, putting a stop to that particular topic. Both mages’ tummies rumbled making them realise just how hungry they were; then they tucked in to the proffered repast with gusto. Full stomachs lessened the need for sexual release, so they sat in bed holding hands and chatting inconsequentially. Eventually Draco persuaded Harry to get dressed so that the Dumbledorians could see that he had recovered.
Everyone was there including the nine muggles, they all seemed to be skinny dipping or nude sunbathing, males and females all mixed together. Harry and Draco removed the garments so recently donned and joined the throng; fending-off the solicitous and cheeky remarks which showed their friends’ relief at Harry’s recovery.
Francis wandered in, still in his smart working suit. Seeing all the nudity, he discarded his coverings and jumped in next to Draco. For a twenty-nine year-old, Francis still had a youthful body and both of the partners clocked his attributes admiringly as he slid into the water.
“Were you out in that storm earlier today?” Francis asked, colouring up slightly at their obvious ogling.
“No; I was helping Harry to recover from his ordeal.” Draco smiled.
“What ordeal?”
“That storm you mentioned hid another thaumic attack … … …” Draco went on to tell Francis about the battle and Harry’s bewitchment.
“I’m glad you feel better, Harry.” Francis gave Harry a big smile.
Impulsively Draco hugged Francis, who stiffened in embarrassment.
“Sorry … I didn’t mean to discomfit you.”
“Erm … It was more surprise, really … You know I share your point of view, don’t you?”
“No! I hadn’t given it any thought one way or another. I take it you mean sexually?”
Francis reddened. “Err … Yes … You two are the first people I’ve told.”
“Thanks for trusting us.” Harry held out his hand in friendship.
Francis returned the shake, blushing. Draco noticed something growing below the water line.
“Be careful Francis, we’re in mixed company. When you’re ready to get out one of us will hand you a towel.”
“Oh!” Francis reddened. “Erm … I’ve just seen someone rather fetching.”
“Really. Who?”
“That well-built young man over there.” Francis indicated with a slight nod.
“Be careful. We’re not quite sure yet which way he leans … Greg, come over here a minute, please?”
Gregory swam over, slightly flushed. “Yes Draco, what is it?”
“Have you met Francis?”
“Err … No! Good to meet you Francis. Draco and Harry have told me that you’re their lawyer.”
“Yes, I moved into Lawton House not so long ago.”
They shook hands and kept eye contact slightly longer than a first meeting should normally be. Draco looked at Harry and raised an eyebrow.
“Err … I’m having some difficulty with my Dad about an uncle’s inheritance. Perhaps you could help me?”
“I’d love to. Do you want to discuss it now?”
“Err … There’s another problem too.”
Draco guessed what that problem was: “Don’t forget that Greg’s an employee of the Foundation, Francis, just charge your fees to us as normal.”
That got the blond a grateful look from Gregory and an acquiescent nod from Francis.
“Then you had better come to my office.”
“Err … Can I?”
“OF COURSE YOU CAN,” both partners answered simultaneously.
“We’ll need to walk, Gregory, my office and the flat above it are only in the square.”
“I have a bicycle for getting around the village now; I’ll wheel it alongside us. A broom’s too cumbersome, that’s how I was saved from the fire, you know.”
“What! On a bicycle?”
“No! By Ron and Hermione on broomsticks.”
“No I hadn’t heard. Will you tell me all about it, please?”
“Let’s get dried first and I’ll tell you on the way over.”
As Francis climbed out, the partners noticed Gregory clocking the half hard cock which the lawyer sprouted. It was Harry’s turn to raise an eyebrow at Draco.
When the sun went down the company sat chatting under the patio and then, as it was getting chillier, put on some clothes before partaking dinner. Harry and Draco noticed two absentees at the meal, and wondered exactly what was happening at Lawton House.
~~~ REPORTING BACK ~~~
Eventually Gregory and Francis returned.
“Did Francis give you what was needed?” Draco asked, noting Gregory’s slightly swollen lips.
“Err … Yes, thank you.” Gregory answered, looking under his half-closed eyelids at Francis. “I stayed for dinner at Francis’s. He has a very comfortable flat with a big settee along one wall.”
Draco looked amused: “So you tried it out, did you?
Both visitors blushed and looked at each other.
“No need to answer, we can see you did. Let us know when you want to go public.”
“Err … Well … Thanks. Not sure there’s anything to go public about … Yet.”
Harry and Draco exchanged looks whilst Gregory rapidly changed the subject.
“I had a chat with Marianne earlier. She reckons that there would be quite a profit in salmon, as well as the trout that are already there, but she’ll need some extra equipment.”
“Okay, find out the price and let us know. Work out the likely profits over a five-year period. Then we’ll see if we can afford the capital. Get Hamish to help you; he’s ace on that kind of thing.”
“Thanks Draco.”
“I see you’ve inherited your father’s skills,” Harry chided, laughingly.
“I’m no less careful with our money than you are, Lover.” Draco looked piercingly at his amour.
“Okay, okay! Point taken … Greg, we’re thinking of making the Milk Wood into some sort of magical combat area.
“I’ve already had a preliminary chat with Murdoch. I think he was listening in when you were on top of Niggle Edge a few days ago. Maybe the combat area should be circular and situated just inside the wood. That would provide two triangular safe areas; one in the north-west corner and the other in the south east. It could be dangerous to use the open moorland. There are a number of restricted areas, easily spotted when you’re walking, but not so easy to spot in a combat situation when your attention is on potential opponents. Besides which, it would be easier to occlude; thus the muggles won’t see us using charms and hexes.”
“No offence meant, but you’re brighter than I thought you were, Greg.”
“None taken, Harry. Give me practical things and I’m okay, it’s the bookwork that gets to me. If I can see it as a picture, I’ve got it. Draco and Hermione see their pictures in words, not me though. I like good solid facts that I can envisage. I’ve got various ideas about the range already. I’ll draw them for you once I’ve got them sorted out. A different grade of difficulty from first year’s up to seventh. Maybe some Auror training too? When are you going to mention it to Minerva?”
“Show us the plans first. We have plenty of time to review them during the holiday. We don’t want to present her with a half-baked plan, do we?” Draco side-hugged Gregory: “I’m glad you started thinking about it. We seem to have been a little preoccupied of late”
The group laughed. Then Gregory and Francis departed together.
“There’s quite an age difference,” Harry mused, watching their departure.
“I wonder if they will.”
“I bet they already have. Still it’s none of our business is it?”
“No! But it’s still nice to know.”
“They did!” supplied a passing broonie.
“Don’t push it, Lover. Let them go at their own pace and support them whatever they decide. I got pushed into battles I didn’t want, and people still expect of me what I’m not prepared to give. You too, both of us were hardened by our experiences and it took a lot to break down our shells, didn’t it?”
“Very good! I get the idea. Now … I’ve got some better ideas about someone else.”
“Really.” Harry’s eyebrows lifted in mock surprise, “I wonder who that could be?”
“You, of course, Silly. And bed.”
Harry let his shoulders slump. “Yes I do feel rather tired; a nice long sleep would be so refreshing.”
“Oh! Sorry Lover. You had a rather tiring day yesterday didn’t you? I should have remembered. Here, let me help you up the stairs.”
Harry played limp until they were in the bedroom and Draco was helping him to undress. Only when Draco was starting to undo Harry’s trousers did Harry pounce, kissing his lover deeply.
“You bugger,” Draco gasped, coming up for air.
“If you’d gone an inch further, you’d have known anyway.” Harry pulled his zip down revealing his reddening erection. “Fancy using some more of that lavender oil?”
~~~ AUNTIE ~~~
They were awoken by Kreacher: “Err … Master?”
“Yes Kreacher?”
“Are you going to open up the Solar next time you’re at Number Twelve?”
“I hadn’t really thought about it, but I can do. If you would like me to.”
“We elves follow your diktats, Master and not the other way round.”
“Fine … I understand, now last time I had the feeling that you would like it re-opened.”
Kreacher shook his head despairingly and then looked pleadingly at Draco, who smirked:
“No we are not going to tell you what to do. I’m aware that such long used residences have a thaumic mind of their own and that elves have much greater feeling for it than us mages. Harry is master of the Black residence, however as his chief elf you also have a duty to advise him.”
Kreacher scowled at Draco and started muttering what sounded like imprecations beneath his breath. After some minutes and under two masters’ implacable stares he eventually gave in: “Yes … I would like to see it re-opened.”
“Fine … Shall we go and chat to Auntie then,” Harry asked mock whimsically.
Kreacher frowned and sighed: “That attitude will make her shout all the more. It’s probably a good thing you gave my ancestors a decent burial, otherwise they would add a chorus of protest howls.”
Draco thought of acting as peacemaker, but decided that Harry and Kreacher had to work out how to relate. He realised that it was the war of ancient prejudices against modern ideas, but worked out domestically.
“Fine, Kreacher, we’ll be slightly more circumspect, but Walburga has to accept that I am the head of the Black clan now. Just as you do.”
By this time, they had ported and arrived in front of the curtained portrait. Harry put his fingers to his lips in a shushing gesture.
Very quietly he said: “Accio paint stripper and brush!” Said items appeared in his hands.
“Where did you get that from?” asked Draco in a whisper.
“I saw some in Seamus’s workshop. Okay Kreacher draw the curtains back!”
“… Filthy half-breed usurper, misbegotten scum raised by muggles, not fit to be in charge of our noble house. Fair-haired blood-traitor disobeying his true-blood father, indulging in blemished sexual practices, tarnishing the reputation of a noble name … … …!”
Draco nodded at Harry “SILENCIO!” they both cast loudly.
It did not work entirely effectively, but halted Walburga mid rant for a minute.
“Let me show you what this potion does,” Harry painted some of the neat paint remover on a lower corner of the portrait. Almost immediately it began to smoke.”
“Help, fire, muggle lovers are attacking me. Oh the shame of the Black family.”
The two mages tried a second Silencio and Harry held the dripping brush in front of Walburga’s face.
“Filthy half-breed freak … You wouldn’t dare …”
“… Try me!” Harry riposted grimly.
“He’s the true heir now, Mistress,” put in Kreacher, “We’ve found his true ancestry on a discoloured wing of the tapestry.”
“Subverting my only true servant …”
“Shall I start at the top, Harry?” Draco was brandishing another brush.
“Your father should disinherit you. Lord Voldemort had the right ideas!”
“So you think that a half-breed’s tenets were worth following.”
“Atrocious behaviour … What did you say?”
“Voldemort was disowned by his muggle father and put in a muggle orphanage by his witch-mother before she died.”
“You lie … You blood-traitor.”
“He doesn’t, Mistress. Voldemort was a descendant of the Gaunt Family via his Mother Merope, but his father was a muggle called Riddle. Thus it wasn’t a true primogeniture descent. He twisted pure-blood ideals so much out of shape, Mistress, that your beloved Regulus disowned his allegiance and was assassinated for it.”
“My Regulus? Really?”
There was a disturbance at the back of the portrait and someone who vaguely resembled Sirius came in.
“Yes Mother. What our elf says is absolutely true.” Regulus looked at Harry: “You are the nearest relative left alive, Harry James. And you, Draconius Abraxas are third in line behind him. So you see, Mother, your despised son Sirius was quite correct in passing over the Head-of-house title to the Potter line. In Harry two disparate lines of the Black/Blake house are drawn together, because his mother is descended through the Blake line.”
“Are you quite sure, My Son?”
“Yes Mother, quite sure. You should leave off your cantankerousness and consult with the Sybil. You know that she faithfully keeps the Book of the Generations and that cannot lie. I have just been consulting it to affirm what I thought was true. Prompted by your obscure conversation with Harry James.”
Harry realised that Regulus was being tactful. He had wanted to ask about Sirius, but decided that that would upset Walburga again. This feeling was reinforced by a sending from Draco, not to disturb the peaceful possibilities.
“It seems, My Lord Black; that I am in error.” Walburga assayed to give Harry the slightest of curtseys: “I do hope you can forgive me.”
“Yes, My Lady Walburga, I will ignore your past behaviour, as long as you show an improvement in it from now on.”
“Of course, My Lord.” This time the portrait gave a deeper curtsey. Harry then noticed that Regulus had sneaked out of the portrait. “I would be pleased to open the door so that you may enjoy the pleasures of the Lord Black’s inner sanctum.”
So saying the portrait swung open to reveal the Solar. Its window overlooked the back yard and it was possible to see the greenery surrounding the canal basin. Harry decided that the aspect was relatively bucolic despite its surroundings. There were four deep leather chairs grouped around a glowing fire, and a beautifully tooled triangular desk in a corner partly under the window. The other wall had a portrait on it, and out of it smiled the twinkling eyes of Dumbledore.
“Welcome Harry, Phineas Nigellas has allowed me to use this portrait to greet you. I doubt he will want to come here often.”
“That’s where you’re wrong Albus Percival. Like Regulus, I have consulted the Sibylline Chronicles and shall take great pleasure in guiding the new Lord of House Black in his endeavours. Although, I should point out that his present amorous adventures will result in another hiatus, whilst we find another suitable heir.”
“They are young yet, Phineas Nigellas. Perhaps the future will be more benign to your house.”
“I should hope so, Albus Percival.”
Harry could see an argument brewing: “Thank you both for greeting me and my consort. I am quite sure that I shall need to ask both of you for advice at some time in the near future. However, I am still settling in and am unsure what questions need asking.”
“Quite right, Harry, my boy. We ancient portraits appreciate the need for silence, don’t we; Phineas Nigellas?”
“As My Lord wishes,” said the elder picture, however he scowled at the guest in his portrait.
“Thank you Phineas Nigellas. Our legal adviser has been researching the Black family tree and has gone back as far as Draigdu, the keeper of the temple at Godric’s Hollow in about 150 BCE. You are aware that now Sirius is dead the last of the Black male line is no more. The head of family passes to the relative with the most connections to the family via the female line. Now Draco, my partner has nineteen connections, eighteen of them via his mother.”
“But Harry here,” Draco continued, “has forty-three; so as a partnership we have sixty-two. The next nearest, a cousin in Australia, has ten. So you see, beloved ancestor, your hated son Sirius was right in handing over the Black inheritance to Harry as the rightful heir.”
“It seems, Sir, that my mother also had Black blood in her, somewhat diluted, but once my parents united, I bred true, and one of the most powerful wizards, to boot. So you should, as Auntie Walburga is, be proud of that, and not shout about my lack of ancestry. We also found out, from the researches, that the Black family name was only perpetrated by some of the incoming males changing their surnames. I think your true descended family’s name should be Arthur. That little bit of jiggery-pokey took place in Georgian times, we are told.”
“Yes, my lord, it is true. Walburga had come into Phineas Nigellas’ portrait and made another curtsy. “Your house-elf Dorothy has also explained about your Duindhu heritage. What was also kept hidden, which the true heir should know, is that there was another strand of the Black family.”
“Could that be the Blakes?” Draco asked.
“Yes my lord. I see you have been well informed. However, I still do object to Mudbloods entering this house.”
“As Head of House Black, I understand you must obey me in all things. Am I correct?” asked Harry.
“Yes my lord; that is so.”
“I appreciate your concern over blood purity, but as an Arthur by marriage, yourself. Perhaps that mixing of blood is not as pure as you would like it to be?” suggested Draco.
“Yes my lord, that is true also. My partner, your great-uncle, always insisted that we uphold the great family traditions, and that was what I hoped I was doing.”
“Was it he that used the usurping French of ‘Toujours Pur’ instead of ‘Semper Intiger’?”
“No my lord. That was carried out when the Arthurs took over.”
“So a reversion to the Latin would not offend you?” asked Harry
“No my lord, it would greatly please me, integrity has a greater aristocracy than purity.”
“It would please me also,” answered Phineas Nigellas.
“That integrity must include the House Blake, which was always on the side of the light, of which Rosmerta Nigrus was a shining example. Are you both prepared to support the House Black stance for the light?”
“Yes my lord, I will follow the lead of the Head of House Black, it is my duty,” said Walburga, with the old headmaster nodding his acceptance.
“Do you have another portrait anywhere?”
“Yes my lord; it is in the secret cellars. I don’t visit it, there is nothing to see.”
“What cellars are these?”
“The one that only the Head and his consort may know about; entered from the cupboard in the Solar. “What appears to be a suite of shelves is a glamour. Touch the top right hand bracket with your wand and it will reveal a ladder going down. Climb down and there are two hidden rooms.”
“Will you allow Reeve Kreacher in there?”
“If my lord so ordains, yes. My lord was very generous in making my attendant elf your Reeve.”
“He earned it by defending me in the battle. I also commend you on keeping a watch on the entrance to this house, and would ask that, instead of screaming at unworthy people, as heretofore pertained. You would go to your other portrait and quietly inform either of us of any intruders or disturbances from the dark ones. To that end we will install your other portrait in our study at Hogwarts. Agreed?”
“Oh yes, my lord. Your house-elf Dorothy and her team have brightened up this house, but only one vista does get boring after a time. To be part of a professorial entourage of portraits in Hogwarts would be an honour indeed. Of course I agree, and that, right gladly.”
“Kreacher?”
Pop: “Yes Master Harry?”
“Auntie Walburga has a portrait in the secret cellars. You have my permission to go there and bring it out. Make sure it is carefully cleaned and then hang it in our Hogwarts study where Auntie can see the other portraits and talk to them, especially Uncle Travis Duindhu.”
“My lord must be very well informed; we were almost betrothed before dear Orion stepped in instead. It was all arranged by the family head, as usual, we had no choice in the matter; not that he was a bad husband really. Still, I rather fancied being the lady of a Scottish estate. Ah well!”
The door opened for Kreacher to enter and Auntie curtsied as the two Heads accompanied their Reeve down the ladder.
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