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Harco Empire	By : Toddy Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 34430 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or films. I do not make any money from the writing of this story, just enjoyment.

Chapter List
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[Note: “x-x” = speech & ‘x-x’ = thoughts &*x-x* = telepathy & #x-x# Parseltongue]
~~~ IMPRISONMENT ~~~
All the previous fuss impinged into the Winter Solstice/Christmas/New year celebrations, with visits as before plus another celebration in the Okruh. One of the early quiet days was commandeered by Lily who wanted to enthusiastically explain her first term at Hogwarts. Her brothers started off looking bored, but somehow, her enthusiasm overtook them and they each had a turn in describing their new level of thaumic learning; occasionally having arguments about certain aspects. The seers mused on the revelations and incorporated some of the results into their own schedules and tutorials, because they still managed to be guest lecturers at the various magical schools as well as professorial tutors to the advanced college students.
One Monday in January they found out that Draco’s numerous potions tests had eventually proved positive and now it was time to free the captive Ukrainian mages. So they ported to the Okruh. First – a meeting was called at St Illanon’s with the other village elders present as well as the Dumbledorian cabinet, Trephine, Lamellas and the hunters who had been watching the Glags at their headquarters.
“The Venerable has not returned,” reported Anthony, who, with Michael, had been with the hunters: “This probably means he has been killed. Although we would have expected some show of grief or mourning at their headquarters. It’s highly unlikely that he’s still chasing those satraps.”
“I disagree; it is possible that they are still leading him astray somewhere,” Michael added: “Because the Seignior has not sent any replacement satraps to watch the Cabin; which could mean that he’s not aware of their death or deserting their post. However, that’s as maybe. The Glags’ headquarters are in an old bailey-castle on an island on the southern edge of the Pripyat marshes.” Michael pointed to a map.
The female seers and Harry felt alarmed. *Nowhere near our island,* sent Draco,*Ours is at the other end, nearly a eighty one leagues away.*
“It’s roughly square and has been used as a prison for some many centuries. There is a high stone wall around it with a number of watchtowers installed; some of which are unused – more of those later. The citadel is very difficult to approach directly because of the lake surrounding it, however there is a causeway leading up to the main gate. This is partly embanked and partly bridged by dilapidated wooden structures. I doubt whether any muggle vehicles would get across some of them; not that we’ve seen any in the vicinity. The community there is a fairly enclosed one, so not many people cross the causeway, even on foot. Most of those are Glags and there seems to be no set pattern in their comings and goings.”
“What have the goblins to report?” someone asked.
“We have had the rock-eaters boring tunnels in that region. There is an awful lot of alluvial mud and peat, something they do not like,” reported Lamellas: “However, after much searching we have made a tunnel in the rock as far as the citadel island. There is a drawback though; the rock-eaters refuse to go onwards. According to their minders, the worms react in a way that means the rock tastes nasty and they will bore no further. The upside of that is a wall of rock about five feet thick before we detect a void which appears to be inhabited. Would you like to continue, Michael?”
“Mmm, thanks Lugo. We have established a camp on a nearby island; one that can be approached by boat, unseen from the citadel. This is where Tony and I came into the picture. One misty night we adopted anti-Apericum disguises and flew over the prison on a recce. We can only go down to a certain height before we encounter some kind of tholus. Well … Not really a tholus, more like a defence that tingles and seems to debilitate our flying. Despite that we were surprised to find that only one watchtower is used to keep an eye on the imprisoned people. We checked a couple of times and found that this pertained during the day as well. To cut a long story short; despite a slight tingle, we established a base in the furthest disused tower which also has a sally port beneath it: one that was no longer connected internally to the prison. One stormy night, our muggle friends managed to reopen the doorway, hiding the noise that was made under the thunderclaps and locking the door to the garden. We now can approach this tower by boat in the dark and some of our muggle friends have been to have a look also. Maryssa, would you like to continue, please?”
“Thank you, Michael.” A robust middle-aged lady came to the front, dressed in mottled brown clothing which Draco though would make her almost invisible in a wood and remarked upon it to the other seers. She stroked her St George medallion and began: “I have a distant aunt who was arrested some time ago for opposing the régime. I now have found out that she’s alive and she has been supplying us with a little information. Before you become alarmed, she thinks I’m a new fellow prisoner, but in a different set of cells to hers. Prisoners are kept in underground communal accommodation separated into groups according to sex and crime committed; although the supposed crimes appear to be either ecclesiastical, political or magical. The national authorities seem to have forgotten to release these particular dissidents in the general amnesty a few years ago. There are two ground-level buildings situated on each side of the main gate and separated from the rest of the area by another gate. One is inhabited by the Glags and the other by the gaolers; neither group likes the other so there is minimal contact, and both are sparsely populated. My aunt reports that there are about fifty prisoners plus another ten who are incapacitated in one way or another.”
“Do we envisage taking them off the island by boat?”
“That is a possibility, but if we’re sneaking them away slowly the gaolers might suspect when prisoner numbers start to dwindle,” one of Maryssa’s colleagues suggested: “They do have a patrol boat. Luckily it makes a lot of noise so we have been able to avoid being seen by it, so far. The tunnel alternative might be less risky.”
“Could the magisters and vidmas make pretend prisoners?”
“For a short time, yes,” replied Justin: “We need to refresh them regularly. After twenty-seven minutes of inattention they start to fade and by forty-nine they are invisible. That is, of course, if the mage concerned does not renew them meanwhile. Let’s say that half an hour would elapse before the gaolers suspected something was wrong. The best time for substitution would be at night when everyone is asleep.”
“That may be a problem because my aunt says that the younger males work the treadmills in shifts, always keeping the infernal things moving.”
“What do the treadmills do? Are they some form of punishment?”
Maryssa looked puzzled: “I’m not sure, they probably work something. The only males I met moaned about how soul-destroying it was, and how they were glad to work in the garden for a change. Although it was only the older and worn out prisoners that I ever saw. I couldn’t ask too many questions all at once without arousing suspicion; even working in the garden was backbreaking. The younger women were used domestically, you know, cleaning, cooking, the normal housewife’s lot.”
“What kind of garden was it?”
“Vegetable and fruit, with hens scratching around. No flowers, at least not the frivolous kind; I imagine the colony is fairly self-sufficient. We only saw one cow being taken in and the noises later suggested that it had been butchered.”
“There is just one other feature,” added Anthony: “Something modern stuck on stilts in the water on one side of the citadel. It resembles some form of electrical station with large insulators on top and appears to be connected by overhead wires to the grid. Oxana has made some enquiries on our behalf and it appears that although the place used to produce electricity for the network, little or no juice now comes out. She also reports that there seems to be some sort of block on the information she’s receiving. She’s going to try to get Vasil to have a snoop, but he’s out of the country at the moment.”
“That sounds just like the old days,” one of the elders contributed: “They would be polite but never reveal anything. They would say that the papers were away for auditing, or they’d pass you off on to another ministry.”
“It could be to do with the Chernobyl catastrophe as well. Mention Pripyat to some officials and they go all secretive. That explosion was misreported at the beginning and people are still trying to cover their tracks in case they are blamed. The prison is on the edge of a designated area; not that it’s anywhere near the banned zone, though.”
“There are still some of the old guard within the civil service, you know,” another elder sighed: “It used to be exasperating to begin with. After a time, you just shrugged and worked around it. That’s what we should do now. Holy Vasil has enough on his plate at the moment.”
“There’s an odd sign of the entrance,” put in Anthony: “I had it translated for me; ‘Using power to make power’. There’s an inflection on the first ‘power’ that could imply a negative whereas the second ‘power’ has a positive slant.”
“Yes! We know of it from the old communist days. It was one of their slogans. It implied that the old ways were not good, but that they could be altered to work for the good of the collective state. What it really meant was that the fat cat commissars grew fatter at our expense, not that it was politic to say so at the time. We lost a good magister-priest because of him being too outspoken. We were told that it caused a very bad famine in the early 1920’s, many people died of starvation. In those days you never knew who was listening in and might report you; hence the reason for incarcerating some of the prisoners at the citadel …”
“… And also my reason for not being too inquisitive,” Maryssa added: “It is quite possible one of the inmates is not what they’re supposed to be and reports back to the authorities what the prisoners are saying.”
“Did you make contact with any of the imprisoned mages, Maryssa?”
“Not knowingly, no. Not that I was asking, neither was anyone revealing who they were or why they were there. It was just luck that the distant aunt was there.”
H:*More like the Spirit’s leading.* “This tingle you felt, Michael; can you be more specific, please?”
“It felt something like pins and needles does, and had the same debilitating effect on our muscles. The nearer we flew to the buildings the worse it became. I started to wobble on my broomstick and so veered away, scared of crashing into something. The tingle diminished the further away from the buildings I went.”
“Something like that happened to me,” added Anthony: “I went with our hunter friends in the boat, intending to use a small demolition hex on the blocked door. As soon as I cast I was assailed by invisible needles and the hex evaporated. Our friends had to carry me down to the boat and back to the island. However, like Michael, the further away from the structure I went, the less acute the assault became. Maryssa’s company did the demolishing by hand when it was thundering. A couple of days later I went back in the boat, dreading an onslaught of hot needles, but experimenting with my body. Our theory is that, as long as a mage is not using his or her magic, the debilitating tingles don’t occur. Not that we have any real proof bar the two incidents, because after I had landed that second time I walked up to the top of the tower and back without feeling anything. I hadn’t the courage to try another charm.”
“Michael and Anthony told me about this phenomenon,” put in Hermione, “And I did some research. We already know that the use of magic tends to disrupt muggle electricity and electronics unless certain protective charms are in place, as at Chantry Cottage. That’s Harry’s and Draco’s home,” she explained to the local muggles: “It seems that if enough electricity is used and turned into a kind of microwave, these can disrupt mages using thaums. I’m told that exposure to microwaves has this pins and needles feeling. Perhaps that was what our two mages experienced.”
“Is there any way of shielding us against them, Hermione?”
“The ward team and I have some experimental charms prepared, based on the charms Harry used at Chantry Cottage. We suspect that they will need to be operated by some very strong mages. That makes it your province, doesn’t it Seers?”
“Um … Yes … Will you teach me them please Hermione? Having made some at home I’m sure I could learn the new ones. Does anyone know if these tingle wards apply underground?”
“It’s possibly why the worms refused to go further,” suggested Lamellas: “It looks as though we’ll have to experiment. We have made an entrance to the tunnel system which comes out on the camping island if that’s any help?”
“How many people can the camp site accommodate?”
“No more than eighty comfortably, Masters and Mistresses” replied the Captain of the Masterless: “We have been transporting food and setting up tents in readiness.”
“Thank you, Captain. That should amply accommodate us and most of the prisoners.”
“That will have to temporary, Harry; because once the gaolers realise their charges are missing they’ll come looking.”
“I think, Tony; that the ward team can ensure they won’t find anybody,” said Probert.
“Reeve Sapphira, says she has been preparing beds for the released ones at Sophiamonastir,” the Captain added.
“Fine … But there are some muggles as well, aren’t there?”
“We thought to re-open your camp on the shores of Ozero Endryu, Magister-seer.”
“Why not use the Cabin, Harry; it might be chilly in tents by the lake. It is February, after all.”
Draco chuckled: “It would also let you practice your hospitality skills, wouldn’t it, Crass?”
“Not really,” Crassus smiled benignly, and a few of the company chuckled: “However, it won’t be me, we have two recruits as host and hostess: Tracy and Wayne. Since they were both hexed during an Auror raid they’ve been on desk duty. They feel superfluous and Kingsley has agreed to release them. Neither of them wish to return to combat. Besides their third child is pending, so a domestic job would suit their purposes.”
“Nice to see the Hotel group making independent decisions, Crass,” said Draco drily.
“Fine … Well organised,” Harry headed off any argument from his partner: “Mages to Sophiamonastir and muggles to the Cabin. Do I take it, Captain; that you will be helping to look after the ex-prisoners, until some suitable repatriation can be found for them?”
“Yes Magister-seer, Reeve Kreacher, Sonny and I have organised our elves so.”
“Fine … So the camp-island will be a staging post and from thence we’ll take the freed ones to their convalescence places here. What about the injured and ill?”
“Ernie and I will be on hand and Poppy has half a dozen beds available as well as reserving a few at St Mungos for the really bad cases.”
“Thanks, Lavender. Anything further, before we depart for the island? Shall we say immediately after lunch?”
“Magister, it will take us something like eight hours to drive there. So it will be quite late when we arrive and then we have to row across quietly.”
“I think we can get your half dozen there much quicker, don’t you, Hermione?”
“Yes … I have enough spare medallions, but not having your enhanced powers, Seers, two mages will side-along a muggle. If you see Ron, he has the trios already worked out.”
“You mean you’ll magic us there? Does it hurt?”
“Not more than you can stand, slightly dizzy, but we have a tisane that helps, if you feel a bit off.”
“Oh … Right … Erm.” The doubter was taken gently in hand by Lavender and Ernie.
~~~ISLAND~~~
Quarter of an hour later Draco and Harry were sitting in their tent. It was quite roomy despite being non-magical because of the muggles staying in the same camp. The two seers were sitting on their beds with warm cups in their hands.
Draco looked up from sipping his tisane: “I must be getting flabby or something; I felt quite sick. You know the bloke who questioned us about apparition, he’s as right as rain. Some of the others felt slightly queasy, but the tisane helps a lot.”
Harry sipped his cup: “I still prefer flying or port-keying, but this does help. I think we’ve got to have a look see and find out about this tingle effect.”
“Okay let me finish this first. I wonder if that tingle was because Michael was holding anti-Apericum or from the broomstick’s innate magic.”
“We’ll have to use the duple and experiment ourselves.”
A:*We’ve been listening in. May we visit?*
D:*Of course, Astoria. We’re not in the altogether or a clinch.*
A:*Okay, we’re outside now, but that’s not what we meant. Your wards are quite strong.*
D:*Oh! Sorry! We’ll relax them for you.*
“That’s better,” Ginevra sat on Harry’s bed and Astoria on Draco’s: “We thought we should pair up. If I go with Draco on the duple and use water thaums for protection, Tor and Harry could go look at the tunnel and see if they can extend it quietly.”
“Hmm … Good idea; some of Tor’s enhanced earth thaums put to good use. Let’s find Hermione and get her to teach us the anti-prickle charms.”
Whilst they were with Hermione, she also showed them illustrations of the various kinds of installations that could be used to produce the magic inhibiting waves. They also had a talk with Lamellas during which Harry suggested that general knowledge of the extent of the goblins’ tunnels should be avoided, especially muggles getting to know. So the goblin asked for the junction tunnel to be blocked securely, leaving only the access between the two islands. Thus, it would give the impression that it was an old escape tunnel.
They decided that it was too late to start anything so, an early bedtime was agreed.
~~~ EXCAVATING ~~~
On Tuesday morning, with Lamellas and Maryssa, Harry and Astoria went into the tunnel and as far as the rock-eaters had bored.
Gritting his teeth, Harry commenced his ‘Liquiesco Petra et Exitere de Foramen’ charm gently.
“There’s a bit of a tingle, Tor. Not too much … Um … It seems to be increasing the nearer I get to the other side … Ooh! that really hurts.”
“Protecto Harriensis ab impetus electrica!”
“Phew! That’s better, thanks Tor. I’ll try again.”
As Harry’s excavations neared the void so Astoria’s pointing fingers started to shake.
“I’ll not be able to hold it much longer, Harry.”
“Okay! I’ll stop. I’m quite hot already.”
They retired some way down the tunnel before Astoria ceased holding the barrier.
“It feels as though it’s trying to eat up my charm.”
“I’m not quite through yet. Maybe we should take a shallow plug out first, instead of trying to bore all the way through. The slot I’m cutting around the edge is three feet long and about four feet deep. I reckon I could work the first foot in without worrying about the tingle.”
“Okay, let’s both work on the first foot together.”
Half an hour had the first foot thick plug ready for moving. It was quite a struggle, being nine feet in diameter, but Maryssa and some helpers rolled it to the head of the junction tunnel ready for sealing it. The second layer was not that much longer; both seers being able to withstand the slight pins and needles protecting the prison. For the next layer Harry held the shield whilst Astoria excavated the third plug. That came out in less time because Astoria’s use of earth thaums.
Whilst they were resting, they chatted about what they were doing and decided that, because Harry’s skills lay in protecting and Astoria had better control of earth thaums, they were better using their magic in that way. Nevertheless, it became more difficult for Harry to adequately shield Astoria as they worked on. The next layer came out in two halves with a long rest period, lunch, and a pepper-up-potion, in between. According to Lamellas after he had sounded the rock – no thaums required, but he did feel a slight tingle – there was less than two feet to go.
Whilst they were resting Probert came to see how they were doing: “You know, if you two could link, wouldn’t that make the shield even stronger that just one of you holding it?”
“Yes Probes, but who’s going to excavate then?”
“We three, we can link, and we have an affinity to earth thaums.” At that Ganymede and Selwyn came round the corner.
“We may not be as strong as Auntie is by herself,” said Selwyn, “But if we link, we will be stronger.”
“Now why didn’t I think of that?” Harry slapped his forehead.
Ganymede chuckled: “Perhaps because you’re a human?”
“Okay! Okay! I’ll let the burrowing goblins have a go, each to their own element.” Harry replied jocularly.
Lamellas broke out laughing: “Prejudices coming out gentlemen?”
Probert grinned slyly at Lamellas: “We wouldn’t be here if your worms weren’t so namby-pamby.”
“Let’s call a truce, before we get to blows, shall we?”
“It’s okay, Tor. Goblin humour can be somewhat rough; Draco plays well though.”
“So I’ve heard, but his tongue was always waspish.”
“I think we’re wasting time.”
“That tingle is quite voracious of our magical energy, you know.”
“Yes Harry, but it will still be just a voracious in fifty days’ time. Let’s get on with it.”
“You heard Madam – off we go then.”
It was easier, the goblins’ earth thaums soon had the next layer open; however, by the end Astoria and Harry were sweating heavily and starting to quiver. Lamellas called a halt before the two seers collapsed.
“But we’re so near,” wailed Ganymede and rushed off towards the excavation.
Harry rose wearily and trotted after him. He arrived too late to stop Ganymede casting and then yelling before passing out. There was a flash of light and a bang as the young goblin collapsed. Harry caught him in his arms and gently carried him away from the remaining piece of rock walling.
“That was foolish Gay,” Harry remarked as he applied healing charms to the goblin’s burnt hand, “You could have killed yourself. As it is, you may have alerted the gaolers to our presence.”
“S-sorry, Uncle. I’m not sure now why I did it. My muscles feel like jelly.”
“I’ll deal with those in a minute. Those burns look as though you were trying to lift a boiling pan with your bare hands; some of the skin has come off.” Harry concentrated, laying his hands on the goblins head.
As the two of them watched the edges of the blisters began to diminish and soon there was whole flesh again.
“Tor, will you come and touch me please. I want to look at Gay’s thaumic core. Then I will want a boost to deal with his muscles.”
“Of course.” Astoria came over and laid her hand on Harry’s bare shoulder, who shut his eyes and observed Ganymede magically.
“Mmm … Your thaumic core is depleted by nearly a quarter … It’ll rebuild in the next couple of days, as long as you’re not foolish again. Now for the muscles.”
Ganymede convulsed as Harry applied a healing charm: “How do you feel now?”
“H-h-ha! Thanks, Uncle; I can stand now … I think.” He wobbled to his feet and supported himself on the rock wall. Ten minutes elapsed, by that time he could move easily even if slightly weakened.
The two seers needed that time to recover before they were able to move. Cautiously the group went to see what the damage was. There was a hole in the wall just bigger than the size of a head. It appeared that most of the debris had fallen on their side of the aperture, probably having bounced off a wooden structure almost next to the wall’s surface inside the prison. As they watched the wooden structure began to revolve and they realised that they were seeing the broad wooden spokes of a treadmill moving past their eyes. They also realised that they were above the pivot level and looking down; seeing, rather like an old flickering movie, an angry leather-clad gaoler cracking a whip.
“You stupid oaf, because you stopped to stare one of the fuses blew. Luckily, we had two wheels going so the output was covered. Don’t expect any rest when you’ve finished your shift. For that misdemeanour you will be connected up again.”
Below and inside the treadmill there came a whimper: “Please, please, not that again. I’m still sore from the previous session.”
Peering between the spokes and closer in, Harry beheld the head of the satrap who had been captured. The naked bloke was sobbing and had a very stiff hard-on; his back bore fresh bloody marks where the gaoler’s whip had been applied. Harry withdrew his head carefully; avoiding the severed wire sticking out of the sides of the rock. He found that Astoria was keeping the others up to speed by what she had observed through Harry’s eyes.
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