Toppers Wallow

Saturday daytime was as before; except that the DA Members were helping with the refereeing. Hamish felt quite happy to let Gregory organise the event, and encouraged Harry and Draco to absent themselves also.



“After all,” Hamish said, “We are close at hand, if anything should go drastically wrong. Now come and see my new abode.”



Hamish’s front parlour had been made into a book-lined study with a big leather topped double desk in the middle; there were also a couple of Albus-like machines puffing away near the window. The main room was equipped with deep leather chairs; Draco told them about remembered peeping visions of his father’s den in happier times, with smoke curling from thoughtful pipes. A closed gate-leg table stood against one wall flanked by two ornately carved dining chairs. The kitchen was tiled in delft-ware and had a single-place breakfast table against the wall. Outside the back yard was a small glassed-in patio. Upstairs, the previous owners had divided the larger main bedroom. The front and slightly larger part was for Hamish making the converted rear section into a bathroom. The small front bedroom contained three triple bunks and a higher curved ceiling to accommodate the extra height. The rear and smallest bedroom had been extended over the scullery and also contained three triple bunks.



“I’m told the previous owners had a series of twins and now needed more space to house their growing family. There were two sets of double bunks in each room, then Billy found these extra ones to add. You see; most of last week’s group of first-year goblins all want to sing so I need to have somewhere for them to stay on Saturday nights. Peter and Jemima have expressed an interest as well. We’re going to practice on Sunday afternoon for the next week’s service. I think that some of the others will want to join us too, but not this weekend. As three goblins are tone deaf I have eight students to accommodate this weekend.”



“What about feeding them?” asked Draco.



“They are Apparating over, courtesy of some DA Members, after dinner on Saturday. Hogwarts kitchen-elves and Hilda have come to an agreement. Meals will be a buffet laid out in the kitchen. As you can see we have a patio, but not as roomy or ornate as yours. With armless chairs we can accommodate the maximum plus a couple of extras. If we move the big table to one side, this makes an adequate musical practice room also



“Any musical elves in mind?” Harry asked.



“Yes, but they are unable to concentrate on holding their images and concentrate on the music at the same time. So I’m holding back on involving them at the moment.”



“We’ll have to address that soon, or risk a feeling of racial exclusion. Mmm, I think a chat with John is coming up.” Harry looked thoughtful.



“Before you start fishing again, you promised me a look round the village and I’ve not had one yet.” Draco pretended to look cross.



“Count me out, Harry. I have books to sort out and music to copy.” Hamish picked up said items from his desk.



“Right then Mr Malfoy, let’s go exploring. I might even treat you to a drink at Richard’s pub.”



They strolled down Almoner’s Row into the village square. There were people there holding placards and looking angry. ‘Save our Post Office’ seemed to be the gist of the message.



“It’s you lackadaisical villagers who’ve let this happen.” A headscarved woman tried to grab and lecture Harry.



Draco did grab Harry and pulled him into Mrs Amis’s general store.



“Hello Dearies! Escaping from that mob am ye? Dratted incomers, they’m don’t even shop in the village, get it all from the town stores. We’m knowed that the Rileys were selling up for a couple o’ months. Can’t make it pay, not that they’ve tried that hard. In a village like ours ye’ve got to diversify. Foley does, same as me. Then; the real villagers come here for what they want. Mr Carter gets most of yere food here; then Foley’s been selling them old bedsteads too. Yere house knows how to integrate; then ye would too. Ye keeps to the old ways, don’t ’ee?”



“Any idea who’s buying it Mrs Amis?”



“No Mr Malfoy, I’ve heard tales that they’m got no one. Has ye got one of yere friends interested ’ave ye?” Mrs Amis’s face became animated.



“Possibly. When do they actually close?”



“Well now Dearie, they’m just hanging on, d’ye see. Waiting for an offer d’ye see, or so the tales says. We’m going to ’ave a problem when we’m got go to Grumblewell for banking.”



“Mmm … You’ve given me an idea.” Draco handed over various bars of Muggle chocolate and paid for them; receiving them back in a brown paper bag.



Mrs Amis was still grumbling about incomers when they left the shop, but she waved them a cheery goodbye.



“Let’s see if Richard knows anything,” Harry suggested.



Richard was equally peeved. “Look at ’em. One small gin and tonic lasts for two hours. They think a village is a pretty place to live in, not a working environment. There’s only a couple of residents among ’em, the rest are townies here for a game at our expense. They were complaining about tractor mud on the roads a couple of months ago. Then, before that they made a stink about manure on the fields!”



He saw his listeners giggling over their pints of cider, realised what he had said and joined in.



“What’s happening to the post office, Richard?”



“No-one wants to buy it, so I’ve heard, Draco. The post office big-wigs say it doesn’t pay and want to reduce it to a sub post office. However, as long as the Rileys hang on, they’ve got a guaranteed income. Probably just enough to live on and they get a bit of commission from the bank. That’s why the church uses them; to help out, so to speak. I think Bert Riley thought he was on to a good thing, but he didn’t exert himself. If he’d thought about a newsagents or something like that, it’d have paid. All the villagers would have supported ’em. That ruddy paper shop in Grumblewell treats us like dirt. We get no Sunday papers at all, nor any local ones neither.” Richard went off to serve someone else.



“Hey, look over there, isn’t that Aberforth?”



“He ought to be serving Butterbeer in Hogsmeade.”



“Hello Aberforth, what are you doing here?”



“Hello Harry, Draco. I came to meet someone who wanted to rent our cottage as a weekend home, but they haven’t turned up yet. I’ve waited two hours over, so I think I’ll go back.”



“Which cottage was that?”



“Erm … Humblebee Cottage, next one up to Granary.”



“Are you letting or selling?”



“I’d prefer to let. It’d give me a steady income. If I sell I’ll get tempted, and go through the money quickly; then I’ll have nothing left.”



“We’ve got two friends who were looking to buy, maybe they’d be willing to rent.”



“Are they magical?”



“Yes! Why?”



“I’ll give them a discount if they pay in galleons; the bank always charges a fee for changing it.”



“Come and have lunch with us, they’ll be there. Maybe you can do a deal with them instead.”



“It’s worth a try. If I do it’ll recompense me for a lost day’s wages in Hogsmeade.”



There was time enough so they indulged in another cider. Whilst they were drinking it, Griphook emerged from the residents’ door.



“Over here!” Harry called. - - - - “We didn’t know you were coming over.”



“No! Well … Gertie and I got Palma Pressgang to look after the young ones. When I attended that sale last week I heard of a couple of houses for sale. Gertie wants one with a decent garden and Willow Tree House fits the bill. So we’ve got an appointment to view just before lunch.”



“Where’s that?” asked Draco.



“It’s in the Close, between your house and David’s farm.” Richard supplied, as he served their drinks. “They can’t look after that big garden, she’s got arthritis and he’s too busy in the city – you know the type – commuter on the train for and hour or so each way; bowler hat, the lot. Used to be a show garden and they held church fêtes there not so long ago. Very pretty it was, too. Thanks for that cheque Mr Grumbleweed; I’ll pay it in on Monday.” Richard wandered off to serve someone else.



“Cheque?”



“Yes Harry; I’ve arranged to come over once a fortnight and give them a Muggle cheque for the galleons collected. Gringott’s normally charge a fee, but seeing it’s for the church, they waived it. If a few more of us move in, the bank will have to appoint an agent here. Like the Newsagent in Hogsmeade. Still, if we buy the house, that’ll make things easier.”



“Griphook Grumbleweed, I thought you were going to see if we could safely navigate through that crowd.” Gertie appeared out of the resident’s door.



“Sorry dear, got involved with Harry and friends.”



“Any excuse to have a drink … Where’s mine then? That cider looks good.”



“Here you are Madam.” Richard presented her with a tall elegant glass.



“Thank you Richard. You’d better call me Gertie, Harry does.”



“Okay, if you say so. Dan the policeman asked to see you Harry. He’s just outside the door.”



“Well it can’t be a parking offence can it?” Harry went outside.



“Dan, you want to see me?”



“Oh, hello Mr Potter. I need a bit of your special help. Let me tell you what I have in mind.”



As they had a whispering session Harry’s smile broadened into a mischievous grin.



“Okay, yes. I’ll get Mr Malfoy to help me.”



Back inside Harry took Draco on one side. They both were grinning when they returned to the table.



“Get yourselves a good view of the square, but not outside. This should be fun.”



Griphook invited Aberforth to come to their room, as its window overlooked the square.



Harry and Draco went out and stood near Dan. In about five minutes lowing could be heard coming from Ash Street – the place where Hermione and Harry first landed. The protesters were shouting slogans and obviously did not recognise danger. Round the corner came a small herd of yearlings, nonchalantly driven by David. Up from Woodyates came Daphne and Ginny, riding their horses along the Grumblewell Road. David seemed to lose control of his charges and they became mixed up with the protesters. Somehow Ginny and Daphne managed to block off their entry and Almoners Row, leading to Magnet Cottage. The cows being slightly frightened just happened to defecate sloppily. Draco and Harry managed to make the cow pats get onto the protesters shoes and splash up onto their expensive clothing.



The smell was atrocious, as Dan had meant it to be. Needless to say the protesters quickly dispersed, cleaning their footwear and apparel before gingerly getting into their four-by-fours and driving off. Strangely enough none of the villagers were spattered.



“Thank you Mages; that worked a treat, didn’t it. Not that anyone saw anything did they.” Dan winked. “Now us country folk can go about our business unmolested. Billy and Cole did a deal with David for that stock. So it had to be moved, didn’t it?”



David rounded up the small herd and drove them on towards Woodyates, flanked by two giggling horsewomen. Mrs Amis and Mr Foley came out smiling, and applied their hoses; soon any remaining muck was washed down the drain.



Griphook’s party came out of the pub door hardly able to contain their laughter. “What was all that about, Harry?”



“We’ve been told that the post-office owners want to sell up, but have no serious buyers. I get the feeling that they’re not too popular with villagers, either.”



“Oh! Well! Mmm … Porlock fancies becoming an agent … I wonder … Mmm.”



“Come along Husband, we’ve got a clear road now.” Gertie went towards Ash Street.



“Gertie, there’s a much quicker way, via my cottage,” suggested Harry.



“It’ll be poo free too,” put in Draco.



The party walked up Almoners Row then the Grumbleweeds turned left along Magnet Lane, waving as the others went inside to have a delayed lunch.



The student party was just about to leave to do battle as the trio arrived, several of them buttonholed Harry and Draco to tell them what had happened, only to be chivvied along by one of the four Muggles.



“Billy, can you spare Dean and Seamus, this afternoon, Please?”



“We already have done, Harry. They’re at Ginny’s place doing some vital plumbing. Old Foley delivered their bathroom suite just before the noise in the square began.”



“Have they had lunch yet?”



“What, those two? Once they get stuck in they forget to sleep never mind eat. Well that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but you know what I mean.”



“Right! We’ll go and see them.” Harry turned round and went five doors back, to almost opposite the vicarage, only to be waylaid.



“Harry, Dear Boy, I’m glad I caught you. Oh! Another addition to your flock?”



“John, meet Aberforth, the owner of Humblebee Cottage. John’s our vicar.”



“Pleased to meet you, Sir.”



“I see you have the tingle, too … Harry, Mrs Pierce has agreed to go into the alms houses, at last. She wants her hens looked after though, now Pullet and Draco have made them well again.”



“Pullet’s already looking after them. He thinks they’d be better off on Woodyates farm. I daresay we could arrange for her to get the money from the sale of a proportion of the eggs.”



“I shouldn’t worry too much about that. She’s made a deal with Ernie and Lavender, about renting her cottage. I think Neville and Luna are in on it too. So she’ll have a reasonable income. Knowing her, it’s the hens’ welfare that worries her. I’ll suggest that they’ll be happier on the farm. Your two trainee medics have made quite a hit with her. What with Wash’s parents, you’ll have the entire row under your influence soon. Oh dear, Isabel’s looking cross and waving at me from the front window, I’d better go in for lunch. Bye!”



The trio poked their heads through the front door of Bagshot Cottage.



“Dean! Seamus! Are you alive?”



“Just a minute Draco!”



More than a minute elapsed since Seamus’s promise.



“Well now me old mates. What’s the problem?”



“Time for you to eat before you fade away.”



“Can’t be doing with all that flummery, don’t y’know we’re busy?”



“Perhaps you don’t want a house here in the row then?”



“What!? Dean! Leave it. Come down here.”



There were a few clangs and some choice swear words, then Dean appeared.



“Well? What’s so important?”



“Draco says he’s got a house for us, in the row.”



“Not me, but Aberforth.”



“Shouldn’t you be pulling pints in Hogsmeade?”



To save repetition let it be said that the pair came to lunch, struck a deal with Aberforth and three happy parties departed for work. Draco and Harry heaved sighs of relief, stripped and plunged into the pool, hauling out when Kreacher announced tea.



Not much later the peace was shattered by the returning hordes. Our pair settled the students down and then had a feed-back session. They found it easier to be objective, and ask the correct probing questions, because they had been detached from the minute by minute organisation. They drew out of their students the learning that had taken place, and noted where skills were lacking. Debrief over, the horde took to the swimming pool whilst our pair went down to the study to make notes whilst things were fresh in their minds. Afterwards, as it was fine so they sat quietly on the lower terrace before dinner.



Draco was not to tell his story this evening, as they all trooped over to the village hall.

Harry and Draco collected their escorts as they went. At Draco\'s silent prompting, Harry complimented Ginny on her dress, as Draco did for Daphne. It was worth it for both girls blushed prettily and smiled warmly.



*Much better than their peculiar attitudes before,* thought the boys simultaneously to each other.



Carter and a chatelained Dorothy had worked their magic on the plates, Winky and Hyacinth had been brewing; not only Butterbeer but Fleurwine, one of Hyacinth’s recipes. Of course Richard had donated a barrel of cider. For the young students and village early-teens there was their own bar, with all kinds of enticingly labelled drinks. The refreshments were in the marquee which covered some the football pitch, linked to the village hall by the piece of canvas that had been over Harry’s patio.



There was a lot of hilarity, as the participants learnt new steps and fell over one another’s feet. Hamish and his goblins demonstrated a new dance and everyone joined in. Because the dance was organised, no one felt left out or awkward. Many times the partner you started the dance with was not the one you ended it with. Hamish turned out to be an accomplished caller, because he had been involved in this kind of dancing before. He and Mr Foley took turns calling the dances.



Draco and Harry were worn out and admitted as much to each other silently as they climbed the stairs. A dreamy shower, led to a dreamy look at the stars in the bubble. A languorous love-in led to a languid lassitude as they slept soundly.