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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
- 52
- 53
- 54
[Note: conversation =: “speech” & ‘thoughts’ & *telepathy* & #Parseltongue# & {telephone}]
~~~ RECOVERY ~~~
At Hogwarts, the corridors were quiet because the lunch bell had not yet been rung. D&H managed to make it to the Green Ladies Room without seeing anyone. As they passed the trophy display, they saw the house cup shivering in fright, and chuckled. Now inside Dumbledorian quarters they looked around. No-one was there so they used the new portal to gain the Cottage. Pressing the red flower emblem, they stepped through, from grey Scottish skies into brilliant English sunshine and as they opened the door the most delicious smell wafted out. There was Kreacher, beaming.
“Welcome Masters, your lunch awaits.”
The single table had a centrepiece of roses and two cushioned armchairs set at it. Two bowls of steaming soup beckoned to two hungry stomachs which growled in recognition of their first course. Their meal was leisurely; afterwards they sat on a sofa in front of the fire, holding hands. There they drifted off to sleep. After an hour or so’s snooze, Kreacher appeared with Earl Grey and cherry cake, most of which disappeared inside.
“That little exercise certainly sharpened our appetites,” Draco observed.
“Mmm!” Harry squeezed his lover’s hand and reached for another slice.
Another couple of hours of gentle chat and occasional snoozes took place, neither of them wanted to be the first to break the cosy atmosphere of close companionship, but slowly the fruit juice from lunch and the recent tea began to press urgently. Smilingly they stood, hand in hand, went round the corner, and used the visitors’ loo which Seamus and Dean had put in the Barn. Sighs of relief, resumption of the sofa and continuance of the delicious reverie, were all that was needed.
Before dinner, Kreacher brought round the show stopper: “Come along Masters, time for your old socks,” he said with a snigger.
“UGH!”
With matching grimaces, the two young professors gulped the potion down.
“I’ve got this tomato juice cocktail to take away the taste.”
This drink was more palatable, but it contained a hot sting.
“What did you put in it, Kreacher? I’ve got steam coming out of my ears.”
“A little Tabasco and some Worcester sauce.”
“That certainly got rid of the old socks. Now, how do I quench the fire inside me?”
“We have thick pea soup to begin with and then …” Kreacher set out the dinner menu in great detail.
Draco and Harry felt much better after the meal. Well enough to deal with the impending horde of Dumbledorians, but not the formal meeting on the morrow. Therefore, they sent off their apologies to the Wizengamot Clerk.
~~~ RESPECT ~~~
When the portal opened the silence was eerie, each member, as they passed the seated pair, smiled and bowed slightly; then went out on to the patio and through the door into the sleeping area, or upstairs to the bunk room. Once the door was closed the usual sounds of their friends’ high spirits got underway, muffled by the closed doors. Quarter of an hour later the noise stopped, the doors opened and members filed out into the comfortable chairs equipped with books to read. About a third of them tiptoed into the swimming area and swam almost silently bar the splashes.
H: *This is worse than them making a noise*.
Draco stood up. “Listen guys, we were a bit shaken, but we’re improving rapidly. I doubt if wizard chess, exploding snap, or any other normal games will send us into relapse. It’s actually worse now; it’s like attending a wake.”
Harry felt the tension drain from the Dumbledorians, some still read, as they would have done anyway in a common room. Various games broke out including Hamish showing a group Goblin Mah-jongg. Harry and Draco went upstairs, but the lure of the pool was too much so they came down, bomb-shelling into the water, managing to splash everyone swimming. The hubbub rose to normal heights and our pair relaxed in the water.
Later on, with just the tutors’ group left in the lounge, they relaxed with a small firewhisky each.
“Did you lot put them up to this,” asked Harry of the Professor-tutors.
“Minerva told them ter treat yer carefully, Mates,” replied Seamus. “I think all the members are awed by yer portal making and it was brought home ter our group when they actually used those portals ter get here. The bowing thing is of their own doing, I think. Anyway how are yer feeling?”
“Much better than when Hermione came to see us at lunch time. Hmm … Hermione … I’m sorry if we offended you. Here’s a much-delayed birthday gift from Harry and I.”
“Thanks for the apology Draco.” Hermione set about opening her parcel.
Out sprang some broonies who danced round her head singing ‘Happy Birthday’ a few times before they flew off to join their mates around the Temple Pool.
Out of the bottom of the parcel the young witch drew forth a golden chain with a small oblong medallion.
“Ooh …! Thanks Boys … Look Ron … It’s a miniature of the St Hermione Icon … I can feel it’s charmed … What with Boys?”
“Its goblin maker says that it can hold many charms – just at the moment it only holds the usual medallion ones. If you look on the back, there are the letters we use.”
“It’s lovely, Thanks again.” Hermione came over and kissed them and carefully tucked her special medallion into her blouse: “As for the joke; I set myself up for it really, didn’t I? I must say your notes are very interesting. Grammarian thinks that the magical nodes have something to do with portal making. Halloween and Beltane are when earth transit-thaums are at their apogee. Cabinets appear to use these too. Your combined strength and the high point of thaumic resonance all helped make the portals. The magic you used to repair the other cabinet was fairly taxing, Draco; pity it got destroyed in the fire.”
“But it didn’t. That’s the one we’ve been using between here and the Academy until it was converted. I think the Malfoys owned a pair”
“Maybe we’ll find out one day, Mate,” Ronald replied: “If ever you find the hidden entrance to the Manor and we all feel brave enough to attack. Lucy had a go in the Potteries, yesterday. We think he was aiming for Hermione’s parents, but they have the mirror wards. All the Aurors picked up were two more singed satraps. His attacks are slowly whittling down his supporters without us having to do much. It only took Hermione and me five minutes to repair the damage, not that there was that much, anyway.”
“Are your parents all right, Hermione?”
“Yes thanks, Harry. It’s happened before, you know. Mum was surprised that there had been an attack, because she slept right through it. Dad thought it was a thunderstorm and took no notice. They’re having second thoughts about staying. Not because of the attacks, more because they don’t feel up to starting up a practice from scratch. Another couple took over their practice, you know. Only when they saw the two comatose death eaters in the morning did they realise what had happened. Dad flooed the Aurors and they came and took the human debris away and tidied up the few remaining scorch marks.”
“I didn’t know muggles could use the floo system.”
“They can’t normally, but Mum and Dad have galleons. It seemed reasonable; as your trio have them. Cole said you showed them how to use the floo in an emergency, so I felt it was carte blanche to do the same. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not, it was a brilliant idea. Have any more DA … sorry … Society Members done the same?”
“I think Blaise has given his muggle girlfriend, Gilda, one. She’s a couple of years older than him and will soon have her chemist’s licence. You’ll have to have a chat with her, Draco. I bet there are some healing potions that are almost identical to muggle medicines.”
“What happened to his attachment to Justin?”
“The boat incident was their final fling, Harry. They remain close friends, but Justin’s pursuing Susan.”
“Muggle medicines sound interesting!" remarked Draco: "I’ll take it up with Blaise when I see him next. I think my partner’s beginning to droop, I know I am. So we’ll bid you all a good night.”
As they left Hermione thanked them again. Harry sagged as he went up the stairs, so Draco laid him on the bed and undressed him; just managing to stay upright long enough to undress himself. Loud snores very soon filled their bed-chamber.
~~~ SATURDAY ~~~
It was a pleasant change to be able to lie in bed and not have to be on duty, or attend an official function. Either of which seemed to have recently filled their lives at weekends. It was more pleasant to have a leisurely snog with your partner. It was most pleasant when he responded sexily and no one interrupted your love-making. Harry and Draco lazed in bed until they were almost sure there were no people downstairs. After the usual ablutions, they wandered down for breakfast at their flower adorned table. Winky served them solicitously, heaping their plates high with delectable goodies. Fairly bloated, they sat for an hour in front of the fire.
“What’s the weather like Kreacher?” Draco caught him as he bustled by.
“Dry, a medium breeze and smelling of autumn. A good day for a long walk, Masters, but wrap up warm.”
“Let’s walk the perimeter of the wards, Draco. If we go along Chantry Lane we can have a peep at that big house and garden which is for sale; then go up Ghost Wood Hollow until we meet the boundary. I don’t much fancy climbing Niggle Edge, Do you?”
“Not really, I like the view, but neither of us have the energy.”
“David says we may walk across his fields and most of the boundary trees can be seen. If we time it right and walk widdershins, we’ll pass by Woodyates when the workers are having lunch. What d’you think?”
“Fine, but we’ll need our boots; the fields are bound to be muddy.”
They went upstairs to put on their outdoor clothes. When they came down again Winky had a thermos full of coffee and a box of biscuits ready; all contained in a small back-pack. They thanked her and Harry slung the pack over his shoulders; the pair exited through the front door.
Soon they were peeking through the hedge, looking at the grandeur that had been the garden of Willow Tree House. Draco remarked that he thought the oblong garden was much the same size as the one at their cottage. Harry noted that only the end hedge separated both gardens.
“That’d be useful if a mage bought it. We could lend the new mages a few garden-elves to get it into shape.”
“Maybe we should buy it and rent it out.”
“I haven’t the energy to work things out at the moment … Let’s think of it later.”
A little later they came across David.
“Hello, the Pair. Your little workers did wonders, thank you. Not only were the root crops dug up but they graded and bagged them too; not a single fork hole in any of them. I gave Greg a bit of a bonus for them, harvest in, in record time this year. Thanks a lot, they were great.”
“Um … I think you’d better explain.”
“Oh … Hasn’t Greg told you. I hope I haven’t got him into trouble. Well … You see … I am aware of the ones who help out Woodyates and the interesting methods you use for ploughing. After all, it is the next-door farm. I have only one stockman now and we were a little over faced by the bumper crop. Washington used to come and help out so I went over and asked him. It so happened some of the little people were there and they volunteered. I’m not the kind of man that refuses such enthusiastic offers. As I said before; they earned that bonus for no spoilage.”
Harry schooled his face into a smile: “I’m glad we were able to help. That’s what neighbours are for, isn’t it? Thank you very much for the bonus, we all enjoy having a little extra pocket money don’t we.”
D: *Very diplomatic, Lover*.
After a few more pleasantries David walked off on whatever agricultural errand he had in mind.
A scramble down the ridge had them into the fields of Darkwell Farm. Harry couldn’t remember the farmer’s name, not that they saw him. However, his wife waved from the kitchen window as they passed the farmhouse. Half an hour later they crossed the Stubbins path and its concomitant beck, catching a glimpse of a great crested newt in one of its pools. After going over the plank bridge they peered into the depths of the beck trying to spot fish, but they darted around too much. However, they did find a crayfish, Harry thought it was a miniature lobster.
“Same family, Love, but freshwater only,” was Draco’s terse remark.
Watercress was found, plus some of the false watercress. None was harvested, but the location remembered for another time. Stubbins Farm and Goldhawke Farm were passed with no one in sight. A third of their way round the walk Oak Farm hove in sight with a cheery wave from the farmer and a quick ‘How do!’ Halfway, and they reached another holding.
At Pastures Farm the farmer’s wife was hanging out her washing.
“Hello Mages, walking the bounds are ’ee? Come and have a rest, I reckon you’ll need one by now. I’ve got a bit o’ apple brandy, that’ll warm ’ee up. Least I can do for the masters of the little-uns. Never have our root crops been so quickly and properly harvested.”
H: *Greg’s obviously been spreading our favours around*.
D: *That’ll help the fiduciary turnover*.
H: *I wonder if they know of the Broonies*.
D: *Muggles cannot see them, Harry*.
H: *I didn’t know. That’s what comes of being brought up by my muggle relations*.
D: *You stole my lines, Harry*.
H: *Yes, I know. I want to encourage you away from that kind of negative automatic response*.
Draco called a halt to the conversation by thanking their hostess for the liberal amount in their glasses.
The apple brandy had a definite kick; their already rosy windswept cheeks were a few shades redder when they bid the generous housewife goodbye.
The Pastures Beck and footpath followed the same route down a shallow valley; being concomitant with the ward and Parish boundary. Half an hour had them going down the steep bank to the plank bridge near where the Pastures Beck joined the River Gryff. On the harder surface of the path some of the mud had fallen off their boots. The idea of climbing up the slope on the other side and walking through more of the chocolate sticky stuff no longer appealed. Besides, that took them towards Great Grumblewell and outside the ward boundary. So, instead of crossing the bridge, they went north towards Ribbon Mill; intending to pass the end of its lane. The path was halfway up the steep river bank and the trees growing there gave some shelter from the chilly breeze.
Around a corner Ribbon Mill came into view.
“I wonder if it was a working mill?” mused Draco, aloud.
Harry just pointed. As they drew nearer the millwheel it was very obvious and someone seemed to be working on it. The mill footbridge had recently been repaired so they leaned on its rail and watched what was going on besides the water.
“Hello. Come to help me get this going again, have you?” The miller waved. “As you can perceive, I’m going to get the wheel working again and then see how much electricity I can get it to produce. Some villages in Switzerland have a river this size, and are able to generate all their own electricity. It’ll be useful, especially when the weather’s bad, because the land lines frequently blow down. Time for a coffee break, care to join me?”
The miller was by himself and set about boiling a kettle. Draco offered a share in their flask as an alternative, which the miller accepted willingly. He also shared in the generous portion of ginger biscuits Winky had supplied. They sat in a partially restored, but cosy kitchen.
“I think the wheel will have to be under-shot as the old leat no longer works. When it did, the wheel was breast-shot and at least sixty percent more efficient,” the miller explained
“Where was the millpond?” asked Draco.
“Where the bottom stew-pond used to be at Woodyates Farm. The leat flowed down the Woodyates side of the path between the two farms, in a culvert under the road and then between the footpath and the raised road that enters the mill two storeys up. It stayed at road level and passed through the mill to come out three quarters of the way up the wheel.”
“So, if you could re-water the leat you’d have over half as much power again?”
“Yes, and for much less water used. The culvert under the road is still whole and probably needs flushing out. Also, I’d need to re-waterproof the raised section of the leat, but it would be much more efficient. The previous owner of Woodyates wanted to charge me the earth for the rebuilding of his section of the leat. I think he wanted some of the money I won on the lottery. It wasn’t the top prize by any means, so after a world cruise I decided to use most of it by repairing the wheel and generating the electricity for the good of the parish. After all, it seemed only right, because I used numbers suggested by the villagers.”
“Have you talked to Greg about this?” asked Harry.
“Yes. He saw no real objections but needed the new owners’ permission.”
“He never mentioned it.”
“We talked only last Monday.”
“Right, we’re the owners of Woodyates and happy for the project to go ahead,” confirmed Harry, responding to Draco’s internal prompting.
“Yes, we are,” added Draco: “We had better have a legal document drawn up giving you permission to build and maintain the leat and preventing us or any subsequent owner denying your water rights. Are you sure that those rights don’t already exist?”
“They might have lapsed when the mill ceased working about fifty years ago. Honestly I had never thought about the legalities before. I assumed the water was anyone’s to use as long as they didn’t pollute it.”
“Most mills had manorial rights which gave precedence to the miller, as long as he ground corn for the local lord and his serfs. Many of these local laws have never been rescinded. I’ll get Francis to have a search for us. He’s my tame lawyer,” Draco explained. “I wonder who inherited the lord of the manor’s title.”
“At one-time Woodyates used to be called Woodyeates Manor and belonged to the Chantry of an obscure Spanish saint, or so some of the old maps show. I did a bit of research on the web looking at old maps etc. I think your cottage stands on the site.”
“If that’s true, then you might now be lord of the manor, Harry.” Draco looked amused.
“Not another title, resident mage is enough. Plus, the other ones our lot give me.” Harry looked slightly pained.
“Oh! You must be the Mr Potter, everyone talks about. Someone told me you acted as a green man recently. It’s rather quaint keeping the old superstitions going, isn’t it? Do you do it just for fun?”
“Um … Oh …” Harry looked flummoxed.
“Many of the old customs have truths hidden inside them,” Draco took over smoothly. “We don’t want to lose them until we know what was represented therein. Something like the medical pharmaceutical companies going back to the rain forests, to find new drugs from old aboriginal recipes, you know.”
“Mmm, possibly. But outdated ceremonies and witches etc., surely not?”
“I can see you’re a sceptic, but I hope not a bigot. You must allow different people to follow the dictates of their own consciences, as long as they harm no one and promote good relationships.” Harry had recovered some of his aplomb.
“Oh yes! Live and let live, I agree with that. But a supernatural being who governs our lives, not me. I believe in what I can see and touch, that’s why I went on a world cruise, to see the countries I’d read about. I believe that we should do our best for other people too and expect them to return the compliment. I have no quarrel with the vicar he’s a really good man, but you won’t get me inside his church believing in his mumbo-jumbo.” The miller smiled depreciatingly.
“John is opening our eyes at the moment, so we are rethinking our positions. We do agree about doing the best for those in our area and, however our belief patterns might differ, we can co-operate in getting electricity for the village and other practical projects. Greg acts as our agent here, so we’ll instruct him to give you what help he can. He works hand in hand with Dean and Seamus so you might see them around too.”
“Greg, I’ve met, he’s the manager bloke. Are Dean and Seamus those builder types I’ve seen knocking around?”
“Most likely, they are very practically minded and have been trying out some of our newly learned special skills,” explained Draco.
“So, you’re teachers then?”
“You might say so, though the definition needs broadening slightly and might just well offend your sceptical beliefs. One day we’ll try and convert you, but not now, the time isn’t yet ripe.” Harry looked mystical.
“Oh! Right! I shan’t press it either. My name’s Michael, by the way. Michael Miller, very appropriate wouldn’t you say?” he smiled warmly. “I know you each by your given names of Draco and Harry; I hope we can stay on friendly terms.”
“Of course we can, Michael.” Draco extended his hand and Michael shook it.
Harry followed suit. The new friends said goodbye and Michael returned to tinkering with the millwheel.
As they walked up the path the two mages examined the raised leat and then the culvert under the Grumblewell Road. The Woodyates section seemed to have been filled in, either that or it was badly choked from long disuse, but it could just be traced as it ran between the path and the Woodyates greenhouses. They saw their muggle friends nearby and went to talk.
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