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Harco Empire	By : Toddy Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 34417 -:- 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
- 248
- 249
- 250
[Note: “x-x” = speech & ‘x-x’ = thoughts & *x-x* = telepathy & #x-x# Parseltongue]
~~~ HOLOVNY’Y VIDMA ~~~
As they were finishing breakfast Hermione and Ronald appeared.
After the introductions Hermione said: “Harry, did you know you have half a dozen satraps camped nearby?”
“No … What are they doing?”
“As little as possible,” replied Ronald: “I reckon they’re there to keep watch on the Okruh in case we slip up. Before you ask; we were very careful and they are not aware of us being here.”
“Nor are they aware of this hidden area, Vidma Trephine. That’s a marvellous ward tholus you’ve made.”
“Please call me Auntie, as all your colleagues appear to do. I was involved with erecting the dome but there were six other magisters and vidmas involved too. I’m the last and, with my two great-nephews help, we’re managing to maintain it.”
H: *I bet that explains the mysterious absences.*
D: *Quite possible.*
“You do all the work Auntie; we just follow instructions.”
“Not so, Taros; it’s your young mahiya that gives it its resilience. Now, what’s this about satraps?”
“They are Draco’s Father’s minions, Auntie. Draco came to our side a long time ago. His father wants to establish a reign of magical terror in Europe, probably all over the world. He’s continuing the dastardly work of Voldemort. The satraps used to be called death-eaters.”
“Yes … I see … And we’ll have the Glags attacking us early this afternoon.”
“Who are the Glags, Auntie?
An hour’s question and answer session about who they were took place, during which Phealey and Pullet apparated in to join the team.
As time progressed Ronald was looking more and more thoughtful: “Just checking, Auntie: “These Glags are not magical themselves, but they use tethered ravens to spot magical signatures and then follow them, yes?”
“Yes!”
“Can the ravens tell the difference between one magical signature and another?”
“We don’t really know, but probably not. We have used other practitioners’ magical diversions to misdirect them before.”
“Okay … Harry, if you and Draco could exit Auntie’s wards at the same place the car came through, we could erect a mask along the side of Auntie’s tholus to hide the fact that you ever landed. Take the cloak with you and make some magical noise as you depart. You would be on broomsticks, let the noise subside as you land, under the cloak, in the satraps’ camp. Next, mask-up and fly to the Dacha, just in case. The Glags want mages, we don’t want them to find us, let them find the satraps instead.”
“Nice one Ron,” Draco gave him the thumbs-up.
“Thanks, Draco. You do all realise that we must keep absolute magical and temporal silence in their vicinity when the Glags arrive, don’t you?”
“YES RON!”
“If we need to communicate, we do so via Draco or Harry – usual mental stuff – we’ve done it before.”
That had to be explained to the new ones whilst Harry and Draco set up the false trail. After that there were trials so that everyone was used to the idea of mental talking and mask making. Whilst waiting for the Glags to arrive; the two teen-mages held on to one of the two seers all the time; especially whilst the masking screen was created.
L: *We can do that, there’re like a couple of charms that Auntie gets us to use.*
H: *Okay, show me – over there.*
Both youngsters made a perfect one each time. Harry indicated the fact to the team.
*Well done,* sent Ronald via Draco: *Leonid, take your place in the team between Hermione and Fredrick and you, Taros, between Auntie and Probes. Both of you remember the linking charm, don’t you?*
T: *Yes Ron, Harry showed us.*
~~~ GLAGS ~~~
“I think they’re coming down to land, Venerable. The leads are shortening.”
“Thank you, Brother, keep concentrating.”
There was silence whilst the birds’ flight path lowered ready to negotiate the join.
“No, they aren’t, the cunning bastards changed course to throw us off. Look.”
“Normal tactics Brother.”
More minutes ticked by.
“The ravens are becoming excited. The quarry must be close by.”
“Arm yourselves, Brothers.”
“YES VENERABLE!”
Crossbows appeared, their bolt tips were dipped in an ointment and, by the way the tips were treated afterwards, it was obviously poisonous. Having wound-back their instruments the safety catches were applied.
As the Glags party moved on, so the hidden mages party kept taking down the mask behind, walking silently forward and erecting a new one. There was some cracking of twigs etc., but that was well hidden under the noise the Glags were making and the flapping and squawking of the birds.
However, there was another problem, the muggle villagers had seen the birds and came from further inside the tholus to investigate the phenomenon, staying clear of the mages. Having been nurtured under a draconian régime, they were being quiet; not wanting to draw attention to themselves.
Hermione caught hold of Harry who was holding Trephine’s hand at that time: *Auntie, can you make them go away.*
AT: *No chance, they’re far too inquisitive. Anyway, I want them to see magic in action defending their homeland.*
H: *Understood, would you make a Cyrillic sign asking them to be quiet, on peril of their lives, and one of the resting mask holders can hold it up for them to see?*
AT: *Many of them cannot read, Hermione.*
R: *With your two in the line that has helped greatly, Harry or Draco could hold the Muggles hands and convey the message, couldn’t you.*
D: *I’ll go first, I’ve just taken down my mask.*
Draco walked towards the curious farm workers, and placed his finger on his lips. He then mimed yelling and cutting his throat. Some of the muggles got the idea and nodded. So, Draco signalled them to hold his fingers. Ten at a time, he explained internally to the very surprised peasants what was happening. Some even managed to ask questions via the link.
It was Harry’s time off. Draco signalled that his mate would take over. Harry had been listening internally to Draco’s explanations, so he was au-fait.
Leader: *We have bows and arrows like that, could we help?*
H: *Would you act as our reserve force, in case anything goes wrong, please? Draco or I will let you know when to fire. The exciting part will be when the Glags mount that rise and see the satraps’ encampment.*
Leader: *Those Glags took my brother’s wife.*
Another: *Some others of us have relatives missing at their hands, too.*
H: *That’s why we’re here, to try and find them. It would be useful to see both sets of nasty ones kill each other, without realising that we’re here.*
That obtained understanding nods from the throng. Harry repeated much the same message twice before Draco took over.
There were a couple more changes of seer before the Glags reached the small hill-top. They had been expected because the satraps had sensed the magical birds. The minders hauled the three protesting ravens down in preparation to putting them inside heavy lead cages for protection. Two of them were already hexed and dying by the time they landed. Once the Glags appeared on the horizon, the battle-trained satraps had five of the attackers killed very quickly. Then two satraps went down; looking like pincushions. Ten minutes of fighting elapsed until the third satrap was killed and the remaining three decided to escape.
Harry was spare and looked around. Ronald was struggling with an infuriated Leonid.
Harry grabbed them both: *What are you doing?*
L: *He’s the one who took my father, I’ll kill him.*
*We’ll let you, * interjected Ronald, hastily: *But you were aiming for his sternum. The arrow could easily bounce off or only injure. Now … aim a little lower and to his left side. You’ll skewer his heart and spin him round. It’ll look like an own goal.*
*Hang on just a minute, * sent Harry: *I’m sending an evil chuckle; when you hear it fire.*
“Ha-ha-ha-ha-har.” Came from where the three satraps were running towards their broomsticks.
Z-z-z-z-z-zing.
“Ugh!”
The Glag fell shuddering to the ground with the arrow’s shaft breaking as he hit.
“Ha-ha-ha-ha-har.” This one was a little more distant as the fleeing satraps kicked off.
“My best lieutenant,” wailed the Venerable: “After them, kill them all.”
A long shot downed one of the satraps, but he was only wounded.
“Brother David, collect that one, bind him and take the scum to the prison. Make sure he lives. They were too near where Sophiamonastir is supposed to be. And I want that too. We will go after the others.”
“Yes, Venerable.”
The Glags gathered up all the bodies and made a funeral pyre; piling tents, contents and everything else combustible on to it.
The Glags formed up and saluted, Nazi style: “HAIL MARTYRS TO THE CAUSE. THE SMOKE OF YOUR ENEMIES WILL CARRY YOU TO YOUR JUST REWARD AND THEIR SOULS TO EVERLASTING PURGATORY.”
A flammable liquid was thrown onto the fire and it flared up with a blue flame.
Whilst this was happening Harry looked round. Now Hermione was struggling with Ronald; he had one hand firmly round her lips and the other holding her wand hand.
Draco caught on what was happening, grabbing Harry’s hand and listening to Hermione’s thoughts: *She wants to save the books.*
H: *I’ll make another diversion you incarcerate her thoroughly. Three, two, one.*
The dreadful laughter seemed to fill the air all around. Brother David looked around fearfully, grabbed two horses, slung the bleeding satrap over one and rode away for dear life on the other. The other Glags were spurred into the distance following the remaining tethered raven. Hermione fell to the ground weeping, not that anyone could hear her inside the incarceration.
There was a multi-gasp of relief. Someone took Harry’s hand: *Is it safe to talk now?*
H: *Yes but quietly until we cannot see them.*
D: *I don’t think a few Incendios would be heard, do you?*
H: *Not if we do them.*
Draco and Harry walked around the fire, ensuring that everything was burnt.
They returned to find three locals pumping Leonid’s hand: “Well done, young-un, you got the one that stole my Wife - [Daughter – Husband];” was the purport.
Some of the older women were crowded around Trephine, asking her where she had been hiding. Each mage soon had a bevy of people around them, expressing their thanks and admiration.
Hermione, now released, was berating Ronald, Harry and Draco indiscriminatingly about the loss of precious tomes. Trephine saw what was happening and came over.
“Vidma Hermione, be quiet,” and cast a silencing hex: “Your behaviour is unbecoming of our calling. Squealing and squawking like one of those accursed ravens, I’m ashamed of you. What are a few pages of vellum compared to the unthreatened and peaceful lives of the two and a half thousand inhabitants of this Okruh? As Holovny’y Vidma of this Okruh I have powers to ban you on pain of Cruciatus. Will you behave?” Trephine lifted the hex.
“But those books could have been priceless.”
Trephine applied the hex again: “So are two-thousand-odd souls. Now will you behave, or shall invoke the curse?”
“Darling, think,” Ronald pleaded: “We all know you like books, but they are just a means to the end of saving people. Forget your tantrum and apologise to Auntie.”
“In my mind,” added Draco: “I have a pair of scales and I am weighing books against souls. Now each death-eater was only allowed to borrow two books in Voldie’s day, and I doubt that Father will have altered the rule. So – on one side of the scale are a dozen books, maximum; on the other side two-thousand-four-hundred-and-one souls. That is a ratio of fifty households to a book.”
Draco winked at Trephine who lifted the hex.
“Why two-thousand-four-hundred-and-one?” a now-curious Hermione asked.
“You’re supposed to be an Arithmantic scholar and you haven’t worked it out, yet?” replied Draco disdainfully.
H: *That’s not too significant is it, Draco?*
D: *Not too much, unless you take our magical four into the reckoning, but it’s got her calculating instead of screaming.*
There was the slightest pause before Hermione replied: “Oh, yes.” She turned to Trephine and bowed her head. “Holovny’y Vidma Trephine, please accept my heartfelt apologies. My love of learning has warped my sense of duty to the people we defend and care for.”
“Your apology is accepted, Vidma Hermione, we all make mistakes occasionally.”
The Farm-workers continued to look at the two witches in awed wonder until one old man was heard to say: “We should have a proper service of thanksgiving in St. Illanon’s, on Sunday, only we have no priest and no choir.”
Quite a number of people seemed to agree with him.
Harry grabbed Trephine’s hand: *St. Illanon’s?*
AT: *Our local church, one of seven in the Okruh.*
*I understand, thank you,* Harry applied a small sonorous: “What if we could find a priest to officiate?”
The general opinion seemed to be in favour. Some of the younger ones had little idea what was being talked about, but they were curious; so, Harry promised to try and find a celebrant.
Pop [and gasps from some villagers]: “Harry do you want lunch out here?”
“Do you have enough for everyone, Sonny?”
“Winky’s talking to Mama about picnics – so yes.”
Harry applied the sonorous again: “I imagine we’re all hungry. If we can clear a space here,” he made a circular gesture at some grass, “We can sit and eat.”
A number of people offered their own lunchtime rations, which were added to the translocated feast that Mama and Winky had prepared. Whilst eating, each mage seemed to gather half a dozen muggles around them. Leonid’s group were discussing the merits of crossbows versus longbows. Taros had some young people of much the same age, whom, Harry found out later, had been terrorised by a bully and his gang. Mama’s and Winky’s group were talking recipes – and so on.
Some of the older men honed-in on Harry.
“Why are you really here, Magister?”
“It started when some Ukrainian magisters were in exile …” Potter gave a potted history without revealing information about the network.
“Has what happened here altered that?”
“In principle, no, in practice, quite a lot. Why do you ask?”
“Quite a few of us are good trackers, perhaps we could follow that Glag and his captive to find out where their headquarters are. I imagine it will take a few days for him to reach his base because Vidma Trephine told my wife that you had some advance warning of their approach. We could then report its position back to you so that you could use your talents to free the prisoners.”
“Those Glags were hand in league with the commissars some years ago,” another elder added: “Now they pretend to be on a holy crusade, as they used to be before the soviets took over. The most hated one was the one Leonid shot. That so called Venerable is not that holy either. Venial would be a better title; there are rumours of him quenching his unholy appetites on children. There are still a few hidden groups like these,” he sighed heavily: “Each will have to be rooted out and brought to justice.”
Harry felt a Spirit-tug: “I have a feeling you all have some influence here.”
“Yes, Magister, that’s why we came to see you. We are the remains of the village council. Your group all look to you, so we imagined that we had equivalent gravitas. Vidma Trephine is the equivalent for our wives. I’m glad she wasn’t taken; she was always the liveliest of the seven vidmas.”
“Were we right in calling her Holovny’y Vidma?”
“Yes and No! No, because she wasn’t the old Holovny’y Vidma, she was from St. Vladimir, but that Vidma died some time ago; as have all the others. Yes, because the vidmas would elect their next chief. It was usually the most senior one and, as she’s the last of them, so she gets the crown. Not that there is a real circlet. Can you imagine her wearing one?”
“No, but she is bossy.”
“So were all the vidmas.”
“What about her scarlet robe?”
“That’s the colour for St. Illanon’s, same as it was blue for St. Vladimir.”
“Were there no Magisters, then?”
“Oh yes! Some were Vidmas’ husbands, a few were parish priests. They all taught at Sophiamonastir; not that we were supposed to know. I think they knew we knew too. It’s on an island in the middle of Ozero Endryu but hidden, no doubt you know how. There’s also a compulsion on us not to tell strangers; so obviously you’re in on the secret.”
“Yes, we are, we were told on the first day we came. You’re tracking and reporting back ideas have a lot of merit. You speak the language, for one thing.”
“So, do you, not that it always marches your lips.”
“We have a St. George medallion, like this,” Harry showed them his: “It works as a magical translator. How will we know of the hunters’ progress?”
“We were rather hoping one of the magisters or vidmas could do that at night.” The elder mimed broom-riding.
“Understood … Let me tell my partner.”
D: *I’ve been listening; my lot are talking about fishing.*
H: *I bet you found that boring.*
D: *I like eating the results, though. Sounds a good idea, perhaps we should get someone else to do the legwork.*
H: *Fine!* “Yes let’s go forward with this plan.”
“Erm, Magister, you didn’t talk to anyone.”
“Over there is Draco, with the fishermen, we are linked mentally.”
“Does he like the sport?”
“No … He was listening to our conversation through my ears.”
“Can you all do that?”
“We have to be magically strong, and joined as partners. Our wives are also part of our family-consciousness; so, they may have heard what is going on too.”
G: *Yes, I have. I’m at the Dacha, Tor’s here too. We have miniaturised cabinets ready. May I home in?*
H: *There’s a space three yards to the east of me.*
Golden footmarks appeared on the turf and Ginevra apparated in.
“Gentlemen, this is my wife, Ginny, she was listening in too.”
“Is she a Vidma, Magister?”
“Yes … And as magically strong as I am. I think I’d prefer you to call me Harry, every one of my friends do, and we are going to be working together.”
That provoked a series of first-name introductions, fogging Harry’s attentiveness with unfamiliar names.
G: *Not to worry, I have a retentiver focussed.*
H: *What’s a retentiver?*
G: *Griswold’s latest – stores an identity and a name – whispers it back when you’re stuck.*
H: *Great Idea – we should give him a little more freedom, he’s been outside the wards a couple of times.*
*I agree,* put in Draco, walking towards the group and hugging Ginevra.
“Erm … Harry?”
“Yes *whisper* Burgan?”
“Is Ginny the wife of both of you?” Burgan looked slightly shocked.
“No!” replied Draco: “My wife is Astoria, but most of us call her Tor. She’s at our Dacha waiting.”
G: *We’ve set up a cabinet just outside the Okruh wards. It’s in a small cabin that the satraps were using. It’s temporary, but I get the feeling we’ll need it. *
H: *Fine!*
D: *Very good!*
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