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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
- 61
- 62
- 63
[Note: conversation =: “speech” & ‘thoughts’ & *telepathy* & #Parseltongue# & {telephone}]
(Captured tied-up & masturbated - captured again and sexually tormented)
~~~ CAPTIVES ~~~
The next week was less fraught; Draco and Harry had prepared their Wizengamot papers in time, so it was just a matter of reading through and rephrasing if necessary. The relaxed atmosphere was helped by one of the parish dances on the Saturday. An Augusta week was followed by a Wizengamot session at which Hubert Hangdog was inducted as the second goblin seneschal.
That Sunday Harry was asked to read the Old Testament lesson which came from the book of the prophet Joel chapter two. He almost came to a stop when the words ‘I will pour out my spirit on all mankind; your sons and daughters shall prophesy, your old people shall dream dreams and your young ones see visions’. It took courage to stay there when he read that ‘the terrible day of the Lord comes’. He was relieved when he came to: ‘everyone who invokes the name of the Lord will be saved’. He was quite shattered by the message and sat quivering. His nearest friends saw his distress so Draco held one hand and Ginevra the other until he had recovered enough to join in singing the gradual hymn with the others.
In his pre-Lenten address John talked about judgement and forgiveness, reminding his hearers about forgiving others in order to receive forgiveness ourselves.
“Just saying sorry is not enough. There is no easy option. We have to really mean it, and be prepared to face the consequences of our wrongdoing … …” John concluded: “… … That is why, on Ash Wednesday next, you can be shriven and start a period of penitence.”
Harry wondered how that applied to Draco’s father, but came to no firm conclusion. Then he remembered his lover, how Draco had been forgiven when it was obvious he had turned over a new leaf. How when Harry himself had drawn them all into that terrible fight at the Ministry, his friends had forgiven him.
~~~ FORGIVENESS ~~~
That evening, whilst the Dumbledorians were sitting quietly. Draco and Gregory came and knelt in front of Harry.
“We’ve been thinking about what John said in his sermon,” Gregory started.
“And we need your forgiveness,” continued Draco.
Harry probed his lover’s mind and realised what was going to be revealed. He also realised that both of them needed to tell the story and their shameful part in it. He grew alarmed at having to admit his enjoyment too, but steeled his resolve: “You already have my forgiveness.”
“That’s not enough Harry. We need to tell the others how despicably Slytherins behave, and we were both in that category not so long ago.”
Ronald pricked up his ears: “Draco, I agree that you were hateful, but you’ve turned over a new leaf and the new Draco isn’t the old Malfoy; at least I hope not, for I quite like the new one. Greg isn’t so bad either; is he mates?”
Ronald’s statement was greeted by general murmurs of approval.
“Nevertheless, you should know of this incident,” Harry put in: “It’s something I haven’t told you about fully, either. It took place during the-toad-with-the-bow’s incumbency when Draco headed the inquisitorial squad … … …”!!!!!
!!!!!… … … Harry had been unable to sleep and had gone walkabout in his pyjamas during the middle of the night. He tripped and fell pulling the invisibility cloak off in the process.
“Well now Potter, what are you doing?” Draco and his two henchmen drifted around the corner.
“Getting up, Malfoy; or perhaps you are blind.”
“Grab him you two, take him into classroom 145.”
“Get you filthy hands off me.”
“Or what, Potter?” Malfoy was grinning wickedly and brandishing the wand Harry had dropped when he fell.
Struggling, Harry was taken inside the rarely used classroom.
“You have a choice; our punishment, or the Headmistress’s.”
Harry was already unpopular with his housemates for loosing points so he chose the Slytherins’ punishment.
Crabbe and Goyle held Harry’s arms whilst Malfoy came up close to him: “Are you going to squeal, or shall I cast a Muffliato?”
“Potter’s don’t squeal, especially in front of scum like you!”
“Is that so?” Malfoy squeezed Harry’s package hard. Harry grimaced, but held his tongue.
The squeezing led to exploration. Malfoy’s hand ceased clasping and undid Harry’s pyjama bottoms which fell to the ground. His face was still close to Harry’s as Malfoy’s hands started to rub. Harry gritted his teeth trying not to enjoy the massage. Regardless of his wishes his hormones took over and his cock engorged itself. His libido reminded him of forbidden pleasures at the Leaky Cauldron.
“We always knew you were a slut, Potter. Look guys … Shall we make him cum?”
“YEAH!” Desire oozed out of every Slytherin pore.
On Draco’s orders Harry was tied across a double desk top and the three Slytherins took turns in pumping his prick. Crabbe was brutal and tugged hard; nevertheless, Harry paid a creamy forfeit with tears in his eyes. Goyle wasn’t as vicious and Harry came again fairly soon afterwards. Malfoy took his time, squeezing and caressing, using light-fingered touches on Harry’s already inflamed glans. Harry groaned and gyrated remembering their experimental passions of a few years ago. This was not helped because his climaxes were stopped just before the point of ejaculation whilst Malfoy gloated over his tied-up enemy.
It got too much for Harry: “Please Malfoy, finish me off, don’t play anymore?”
“See guys; I told you he was a slut … Still, we do have to have some sleep.”
Harry’s fruition was enormous and the trio watched as he plastered himself with his own ejaculate. Then they walked off and left him … … …!!!!!
“!!!!!… … … So you see why we need Harry’s forgiveness, don’t you?”
“Maybe we should strip you and do the same to you, Malfoy!” Ronald stood and was his usual aggressive self.
“Ron stop it. I had forgiven them a long time ago.” Harry patted Ronald’s shoulder: “I suppose that that was when my side of our love affair started. Draco’s fingers are ace, even better than Seamus’s and you know all about them, don’t you?”
Ronald looked daggers at Harry, blushed bright crimson, glanced at Seamus and then at Hermione before finding the deepest armchair and trying to hide in it.
“Seamus, perhaps you could tell me about this sometime. You know how I like to learn about new techniques, don’t you?” Hermione’s naughty, cunning grin caused Seamus to flush and shrivel into his armchair also.
The rest just chuckled.
“I formally forgive both of you. My part in the Sectumsempra incident needs forgiveness from Draco also – something that he has forgiven me – we all have things in the past that were out of order. They are over and done with – we all have new lives to live. Harking back to the bad old days, or even the good old days, will not help us go forward together. We should all consider those incidents closed and forgiven.”
“HEAR, HEAR!” came from the assembled ones.
~~~ CAUTION ~~~
That Augusta Week the duelling club had few mishaps. Theodore was cautious and calculating; by saving his bum from being burnt he still won himself no bouts. Draco could see the pent up fury in the Slytherin and drew Harry’s attention to it.
The Smiling Ones did particularly well in their extra lesson, using the mirror charm on Incarcerous and Expelliarmus with some amusing results as it was not only the opponent who became involved. They were most apologetic when they accidentally tied-up Harry. He just laughed it off, suggesting that they aim the mirror shield slightly better next time. Draco lost his wand twice, but his replies were equally good-humoured.
The Smiling Ones left saying that as the strings had played for the distribution last week, so it was their turn to play this week. Our two mused silently about how good Hamish was at enthusing his students.
This weekend and the two days before Ash Wednesday were rest days – in fact a mini-half term. Monday was allotted a quiet do-it-yourself day. Some students caught up on their backlog of homework, others played Quidditch or walked around the grounds in the weak sunlight. There was still ice on certain ponds so skating was another pastime; some even had a go at the ancient Scottish sport of curling; modified thaumically, of course.
For the Tuesday Minerva had decreed a treasure hunt. Each professor had made up clues suitable for each level of learning and referring to a place in their domain. These clues were hidden in the previous professor’s place, so each clue led the participants on to the next hiding-hole. Only correct wand use and the proper word would reveal the clue. Various shops had presented prizes, the first prize being a tolerably good broomstick. Not Firebolt or Nimbus excellence, but definitely superior to one of the school’s hack broomsticks. Honeydukes had supplied three sweet prizes and there was even a case of Butterbeer donated by Aberforth for the seventh year winner.
Consciences clear, the Dumbledorian Professors became involved in supervising the chaos within the academy’s precincts, taking separate paths. They had agreed to return to the cottage and meet up at chocolate time; dependant on the hour of the entertainment finishing. Draco and Harry had switched off their mental antennae, in the same way they had learnt to do when teaching, so it was nearing midnight when Harry went home and realised Draco was missing. The Smiling Ones had won the Butterbeer, and had jokingly promised to share it with both of their favourite professors. So Harry wandered back to the Slytherin wall and obtained entry, expecting Draco to be there.
“Come for your drink, have you Professor?” Septimus called out, holding a new bottle of Butterbeer in his hand. “They’re quite good, but not as delicious as Winky’s home-made.”
“Thanks for the offer, Septimus. I’ll have one in a bit. I’m really looking for Draco. I can’t seem to raise him via our mind-warp, so I’m beginning to get slightly worried because he’s not at home either.”
Honorius slipped out of the room, returning a minute later looking worried. “That Nott’s disappeared. He was mumbling something about revenge being sweet. Come along friends; let’s form a search party for him. It wouldn’t be right to lose our deputy house-master in the first year, would it?”
There were some titters from the rest of the Slytherin students, but they all arose and formed small search parties, agreeing on the routes to be taken and places searched. Three minutes later, Harry was left by himself in the Slytherin common room, so he decided to go looking as well. He remembered the way into Argus’s dungeon and took that route. As he entered the low arched twisting hallways, he imagined he had a fleeting thought of ‘help’ from Draco. Then there was silence, both physical and mental, so Harry put it down to an overactive imagination tinged by worry.
He rounded a corner and something sack-like fell on top of him. Before he could react an Incarcerous was pronounced and the sack bound tightly round his upper torso. The inside of the sack smelt sickly-sweet and as he collected his thoughts to issue a counter-spell he drifted off into a semi-conscious state.
When he came-too he explored the inside of the sack and realised that it contained some sort of inverted mirror shield. A worrying thought crossed his mind about Glanville’s abduction, as well. As his hands were inside, he tried one or two less harmful spells and found that they rebounded at him. Being ready to de-activate them, no harm came to himself from his own hexes. Shifting his senses to the outside of the sack, he realised that he was now suspended above the ground by a loops round his shoulders and waist. How far above he was not quite sure; he cursed himself for not concentrating on his whereabouts instead of the interior of the mirror sack.
“Ah good … Two pansies in one flower bed,” said the unmistakeable tones of Theodore Nott, muffled slightly by the fabric of the sack.
The only reply was a frantic mumbling from a sack close to Harry, which sounded very much like his lover. He concentrated, trying to remember what Hermione had said about the structure of the mirror charm, endeavouring to bring to mind how to undo it. He was distracted when his belt was undone, flies unzipped and his lower garments removed, including his shoes and socks.
“You match for size slack, let’s see if you do the same hard.” Theodore’s fingers started to stroke Harry’s cock.
Quite soon bodily hormones took over from fear and Harry’s appendage responded to the rough caressing.
“Hmm … Good … Engorgio Penis …”
The tingle of the spell had Harry writhing in ecstasy as he felt his member expand.
Watching his latest prisoner, Theodore saw Harry’s prick grow shinier, trying to expand beyond the Engorgio limits. He remembered the Seignior’s injunction to have fun but not to draw blood. He regretted he was not privy to some of the spells the satraps used, but he had been loaned a special potions book.
He looked at Draco and then at Harry realising that to have their legs splayed apart would give him the best advantage. He found some extra pieces of cord. First, tying one each to Harry’s ankles, swinging him sideways to the left and securing that ankle to a pillar. The other cord was passed through the iron loop set in the floor close to Draco’s tied ankles. Theodore pulled tightly on this before releasing the binding charm keeping Harry’s ankles together. The result was that Harry’s legs flew apart before he could resist. Theodore used much the same procedure on Draco, but in reverse.
A defenceless Harry could hear a scraping sound, too harsh to be a razor, but worrying nonetheless. Unseen by his prisoners, it was Theodore moving a table towards the pair of splayed and very vulnerable young men. Theodore was careful with the table because it contained a number of mini-cauldrons, each containing different coloured potions.
Harry heard his lover making sex sounds and gasping; then came a long wail, almost of anguish. Harry wondered what had happened.
He was not kept in suspense too long. He felt his ropes tightening him, stretching his muscles almost to breaking point. Next, a clamp was placed round his cock and behind his balls, followed by exciting brush strokes. Soon Harry was making the same type of sex-noises that his partner had. The narrow bristled painting brush slid up the underside of his cock, almost to the glans. Now the sides of his cock were receiving the same treatment, as this happened he realised that some kind of potion was being painted on, and it was heating up his shaft almost unbearably. As the painting stopped, the itchy heat expanded to enclose his whole prick except the glans. As his first ejaculate began to move up his boner he opened his mouth to wail at the hurting excitement of coming.
“No–no–no,” Draco cried through the sacking.
“No-no-no,” Harry replied as the brush painted a stinging potion on his glans.
“Oo-oo-oo-oo-oo,” crooned Draco.
Harry followed suit as a freezing potion was applied to each ball. They contracted into firing position, causing another emission, agonising and erotic at the same time.
Next time the stinging potion was on his shaft, the heating one on his balls and the freezing one on his end, it contracted, but nevertheless, the spunk burst through. The delightful pain was unbearable, and both participants yelled out loud.
In his sack, hot with perspiration, Harry surmised one more paint job. He was correct, every bit of his shaft was sensitive and his stinging balls emptied themselves of all his reserves.
Hanging limply in their restraints two lover-professors wondered what was to come next.
“Open up!” sounded in Lucius’s peremptory tones.
Both captives had their hopes of any rescue fall beneath their feet.
“Yes Seignior, I have both birds in hand,” Theodore shouted back.
Sounds of receding footsteps and the bolts of a door being slid back came next.
“No!”
“Incarcerous!”
“No!”
“Langlock!”
“Mmm … Mmm …”
“Exuero Te!”
“Mmm … Mmm … Mmm …”
“Merlin! I’ve wanted to try that one for ages.”
“Oh no! Look over there.”
“Ooh I say! What pretty colours. I wonder if it hurt.”
“Come on! Let’s cut them down, and then we’ll know who they are.”
“Finite Incantatem.” That first one let the professors’ engorgements deflate.
“Finite Incantatem!” Had the ropes fall off, and Harry fall into comforting arms.
“Finite Incantatem!” The mirror sack melted away, and their mental barriers reunited.
There stood the four Smiling Ones.
“Are these your clothes, Professor?” Septimus was trying not to laugh.
“Yes thank you, I am a bit weak at the moment, perhaps you could help me regain my decency.” Draco said it with so much aplomb, that all six of them burst out laughing.
“Thank you for rescuing us. Had Mr Nott continued, I expect we would have passed out and be on our way to see the Seignior.” Harry beamed weakly, as the final adjustments to his dress were made.
“When everyone came back, not having found you,” Septimus explained. “Crass remembered trailing Nott down here, and getting into trouble with Filch when he caught him, too.”
“Mort’s a good mimic, so we thought we’d surprise Nott and see what he was doing,” added Honorius.
“Us, by the looks of things.” Draco snorted
“Why was he painting you down there?”
“The potions have different effects: itchy heat, tingling cold and stinging eroticism. They’re all dark blood-magic. I dare say if you look on his arms you’ll see scars where he cut himself.” Draco had adopted a clinical teaching approach, but it had a definite quaver of exhaustion in it.
“Come on. We can leave him here. Let’s get our best professors back to their beds, before they faint away completely,” Septimus cajoled his mates.
Each Smiling One placed a professorial arm over his neck, shuffling sideways in trios through the doors.
Amicus Dendron met them. “I’m glad you found them. We were just about to break the unwritten rule and tell the Headmistress.”
Draco smiled wanly. “Thanks Amicus ‘regulus intacta’ still pertains.”
H: *What did that mean, Lover*?
D: *Approximately - never tell the elders what they don’t need to know. I think that’s proof that Amicus meant what he said*.
H: *Um … Yes … I agree*.
Mr Dendron went back to tell the worried Slytherins that all was okay; leaving the curious group of six to struggle into the professors’ Hogwarts apartment. Harry was laid on the bed.
“Where’s Professor Malfoy’s bed, please?”
“This one?”
“Oh sorry! We’ll move you to yours then. Where’s that?”
“It’s this one, too.”
“Uh?”
“So-o-o, some of the suppositions are true. Not that we hold it against you. Ooh! I say! Most of the rumour mongers have you two paired up with Ginny and Astoria.”
“We’d rather that that second rumour was the one that was spread about. Many magical folks in high places would not even try to understand.”
“As we’re Slytherins; that would make excellent blackmail material. Not that we would, you two have been far too generous to us already. I think we’ve been infected with Gryffindor-itis.” Septimus chuckled.
“It works both ways, Septimus.” Harry giggled. “The sorting hat nearly put me into Slytherin when I arrived here.”
Justin and Hermione appeared in the doorway.
"Where have you two been?” she demanded in her usual Hermione style.
“Theodore invited us to hang about with him,” was Draco’s laconic reply.
“Who wants to fraternise with that dolt?” Justin had a mystified air about him.
Hermione caught on. “Did he torture you?”
“Yes Hermione, and where we are most sensitive, too.” Harry gave a weary sigh. “However we had four smiling knights in shining armour to rescue us.”
“Well done you four. Let’s leave Harry and Draco to recover. Come outside and tell us all about it.”
“It’s all right, they know about us being together,” croaked Draco in Mordant’s ear. “We’ll have to put your mimicking to some good use. Even I thought it was my father.”
Somehow Draco and Harry struggled out of most of their clothes casting them either side of their bed and, comfort-hugging, went to sleep.
~~~ ASH WEDNESDAY ~~~
It was a confusing day.
Most of the Dumbledorians came to St Godric’s for the Penitential Service and imposition of ashes.
Draco and Harry felt more sinned-against than sinning because they were still recovering from the assault of the previous evening. However, they did recall mistakes in their teaching where they had had to ask the student’s pardon and start again. In that frame of mind’ they accepted John’s marking them with the sign of the Cross in ashes on their foreheads. Afterwards most of the members had a quiet time together. They would be attending a Lenten Induction course in preparation for the Bishop Keith laying his hands upon them in confirmation. This they felt was a big step in their spiritual life. They were taking upon themselves the discipleship vowed at their baptisms by their Godparents. Some were unsure if their baptism had taken place and so would be baptised during the same ceremony.
Draco and Harry had found their baptismal certificates as had Hermione, Astoria and the Weasley clan, so theirs was just to be the laying on of hands. Our pair were doubly awed because the three goblins were to be baptised and, along with Hamish, they would become Godparents in the fullest sense of the term. Not that Ganymede, Probert and Selwyn would be confirmed until they were older.
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