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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
- 80
- 81
- 82
[Note: conversation =: “speech” & ‘thoughts’ & *telepathy* & #Parseltongue# & {telephone}]
~~~ WEEKEND GAMES ~~~
The Blakes changed out of their professorial robes into something more comfortable. They decided to go and join the students for dinner and warned Hyacinth that that was where they were going.
“We economised, Master, I hope you don’t mind? Both companies, Dumbledorians here and students at Milkwood Hall are being presented with the same menu, much of it made at Hogwarts.”
“That seems like a good idea. We were worried that you might feel slighted.”
Hyacinth shrugged: “Winky says that, Masters do as Masters do, us elves just follow orders.”
Draco chuckled: “With Kreacher sometimes it’s the other way round.”
Hyacinth smiled: “Well he is the Elder Elf and you did make him your Reeve.”
All three had a little giggle and the Blakes left to walk through the wood.
H: *She’s beginning to come out of her shell, isn’t she*?
D: *Yes … That’s the first bit of humour I’ve heard from her*.
Once the meal was finished at Milkwood Hall leisure activities took over, wizard chess and exploding snap games were played, goblin mah-jongg had its devotees as did elfin whist. Harry was pleased to see that the games were not particular to any one race. The members of a study-quartet seemed, by and large, to be taking instruction from one of their members and playing a mixed game. Grey had one foursome learning dominoes whilst Wash and Cole were looking over Hamish’s shoulders as he explained the intricacies of the tiles in mah-jongg. Draco and Justin were tucked away in a corner with the chess board. There were two elves and two goblins spare, once they saw Harry they homed in on him and persuaded him to tell them about Quidditch tactics. In the end the quartet tried some out, flying above Milk Wood's trees under Harry’s guidance.
~~~ BEDTIME STORY ~~~
They were called to order at ten-thirty by Winky placing rows of steaming mugs of hot chocolate in the kitchen hatchway. There was also an amazing variety of coated biscuits. Drawn by the aromas, everyone crowded into the veranda, sitting in the comfortable chairs, on their arms or on cushions on the floor, sipping their hot drinks.
“Harry! You said one day you would tell us about your snake adventure,” Washington stated. “Why not tell us now?”
It took a little coaxing but Harry gave in.
“This is a story based on a couple of my adventures with snakes, note that it is a story, but based on some facts.” he said.
“A few years ago there was this little weedy boy called Garry. He had a bigger brother called Buddy; he was enormous and dense. Imagine Hamish over there without any brains only four times as big.”
Hamish stood and bulked up, trying to look menacing. The audience giggled.
“Buddy was always bullying Garry, pinching his food, and doing unspeakable things when their parents weren’t looking. Somehow, whenever Garry retaliated, he was caught in the act and blamed for bullying Buddy. When this happened Garry was locked in a small cupboard under the stairs, as a punishment. It seemed to Garry that he spent more time under the stairs than he did outside.”
Someone groaned, “It’s happened to me too!”
“You have my complete sympathy. Anyway; it was Buddy’s birthday treat,” Harry continued, having noted the student who might want counselling: “Garry’s father warned him to behave himself, so when he was warned of dire circumstances if he did not behave; Garry looked meek and agreed that he would try. At the zoo there were plenty of animals to see; lions and bears, growling and looking menacing; monkeys skipping round tree branches and throwing things, plus many others.”
Draco conjured a jungle scene on the lawn outside the windows.
“Eventually they came to the reptile house, it was hot in there and most of the inmates were asleep, mostly being nocturnal animals.”
“I’ve been to one, they’re boring,” a young voice said.
“That’s what Buddy thought too. Whilst Garry was being quiet he noticed a beautiful big snake whose skin glistened. Garry thought it looked like a crown full of jewels and said so; not that anyone was listening. Well … That’s not quite true, because the snake looked up and seemed to say ‘thanks for the compliment’; not that Garry was quite sure that he had heard correctly. The fact that the snake had moved attracted Buddy, he pushed Garry out of the way and commenced to bang on the window. Sitting on the ground Garry felt very aggrieved, wishing the glass would give way. Funny thing was though, he got his wish and Buddy fell through into the pool of water in which the snake had been washing. Sensing freedom the snake shot out.”
Draco, following the story, made an illusory snake, which shot out from behind Harry and seemed to be flying low over the audience’s heads. They ducked and some of them screamed; then giggled nervously as they realised it was an illusion.
“Needless to say there was a big fuss. Buddy had to be rescued; of course Garry got the blame. The zoo keepers looked high and low for the snake, and then, when they couldn’t find it, sent a bill to the parents; it was enormous, so Garry was locked in the cupboard for two whole days.”
“That wasn’t fair,” shouted a voice from the back.
“That’s what Garry thought, too. However, he soon forgot the incident as he was told he was soon to be starting at Hogwarts. And we all know how exciting that is, don’t we?”
“OOH YES!” breathed his audience.
“A few years later Garry was on the rostrum at the duelling club. Just like the one you saw on Wednesday evenings, last term. Only this wasn’t a sporting event, this was for real and very nasty.
“Gasps.”
“Yes … Garry’s enemy, Damien, was out to get him good and proper. Garry seemed to be the better magician and had managed to blast Damien, but Damien was sly and cast a serpent calling hex. It just so happened that that particular snake was passing by and he was caught in the summoning. He was furious, hissing and spitting at everyone in the room.”
Draco caused another snake to appear. This time the audience giggled, even when it started hissing at them.
“Damien had cast his spell hoping that the snake would bite Garry. The snake reared up preparing to strike.”
Draco’s image followed suit.
“Then it recognised his liberator, so it turned on Damien and bit him instead.”
The image seemed to split into many and strike at the audience, who ducked.
“Funny thing though. Damien didn’t die from the bite; it affected him differently. Once the injection had worked its way through his system he became very close friends with Garry. Damien and Garry learnt a lot from their friendship and became exceptionally strong in magic.”
His audience clapped.
“Okay,” said Coleman as the ovation died down, “we understand Garry was you, Harry. Don’t tell us Damien was Draco, was he?”
“The names I disguised slightly, some of the story was absolutely true, and some of it was pure fiction. I’ll let you all work out which was which. However, Draco and I are very close friends, and he does cast a very realistic snake, doesn’t he? Then again I can speak to snakes, so maybe it was me being the nasty one. Or … Is that the fictional bit?”
The party buzzed as they discussed the story, Horrty, Coleman and Graham managed to get the students moving bed-wards. One of the other young muggles wandered over to Harry looking sheepish.
“Erm … Harry?”
“Yes Wash?”
Do you mind if we use one of the upstairs four bunk rooms tonight? So that we can be here to organise them, when the students wake up.”
“Have you asked Horrty?”
“Yes! He says we have to ask you, but he’s happy to accommodate us.”
“Right! If the Coach says yes, then so do I.”
“Erm … Thanks … Erm!”
“I take it that there’s more?”
“Yes … Well … We’d like to help out with the paint-game, if you don’t mind.”
“What does Horrty say?”
“Much the same as he did before.”
“Okay! Clear it with Hamish as well.”
“We have done, and it’s a yes from him too.”
“Anything more?” Harry pretended to be anxious. “I suspect you’ve drawn the short straw.”
“Well … Yes … Grey says you can use the ten-acre field if you want to train the students in digging spells. He also suggests hedge layering too.”
“I bet you have some dry-stone walling and greenhouse restoration work in mind as well?”
“Oh … Yes … Dean and Seamus did sort of mention something like that, also.”
Draco, who had been listening to this conversation, fell about laughing. “Look out for flying hooks.” He managed between guffaws.
Washington looked at him curiously.
“It’s all right, Wash,” Harry put in quickly, “My partner has a peculiar sense of humour sometimes. Just ignore him, it’ll wear off. I’m quite happy with all the plans. I think the students will enjoy their stay here, and get something out of it.”
“There’s one thing more, though.”
“Go on, tell me.” Harry tried to look menacing.
“We have a pile of old newspapers at The Hall. I hear that you can turn them into overalls.”
“When? Tonight or in the morning.”
“In the morning. Dean says you could make it into a lesson. Could you?”
“Good idea, of course I will.” Harry looked dangerously at Washington. “Do you have any more things to tell me?”
“No … We’ve got all we want, thanks … You can stop pretending too.” Washington lightly thumped Harry on the chest. As he did so Harry saw a few students go for their wands.
“No need to hex him, he’s a friend!”
D: *Nice to see our students are so protective*.
H: *They’re only saving me so that you can ravish me later*.
D: *That ‘later’ is soon approaching.*
As they were starting out towards the cottage, Harry heard.
“Well, did he make a fuss?”
“No! I told you he wouldn’t. That’s a galleon you owe me.”
Draco burst out in another fit of giggling. “You know, Harry. You organise people like our great headmaster used to. Not quite the same style, but close enough.”
“I hope that’s a compliment. I suppose it must be, ’cos you didn’t call me Potter.”
D: *Quite … Just now I’m more interested in calling you Lover*.
H: *Fine … I’ll race you to the bedroom*.
To the remaining students’ amazement two professors started to race each other to the bridge over the pond leat and then disappeared into the woods; still running all out.
Draco and Harry were rather pleased that they were in their own bed in Chantry Cottage that night, otherwise there would have been a long drawn out symphony of squeaks. They knew they could indulge longer, because breakfast was at eight on a Saturday morning.
~~~ SATURDAY ~~~
The rainstorm that had followed them from Hogwarts passed over during the night, because of the later finish to Saturday breakfast most of the dripping foliage was now dry. The students sat round in a semicircle as Hamish went through the rules, not that there were many. He explained that they had shields which scored points for each hit received and fended off. In the same way, a participant scored points if they actually managed to hit a person and not his or her shield. If that happened the participant was counted as dead and had to retire from the game. It was to be a team effort and the numbers of the students were split in half. Before any japing took place he also said that Dean and Seamus would teach them the colour-spot charm. The object of the game was for one team to get as many people from one safety zone to another with as few casualties as possible. The other team had to stop them by successfully painting each opponent. During the morning there were to be two games so that each team had a chance at being both aggressors and sneakers.
Next came Harry with a pile of newspapers. He carefully went through the process of making coveralls; then challenged each student to make their own.
“Remember,” said Harry, “If you don’t make them properly you will be naked when they come apart.”
A couple of rude comments were made and a few nervous giggles, but they set too with gusto, helped by all the tutors. The three muggles were totally fascinated by the process, not really having seen charms being learnt and cast before. One team made dark brown coveralls and the others had dark green; both were dappled to give reasonable camouflage in the woods. In contrast the referees wore bright orange so as to be seen; Harry and co had made the muggles their coveralls as part of the demonstration. Hamish read out the names of each team, getting some grizzles and some excited yes’s at his choices. The next lesson was about the paint-jinxes.
D: *I’ll stay with the students, I had a daffodil from Kingsley saying that I wasn’t needed*.
*Thanks, I’ll port of the Ministry for my lesson with him*. Harry absented himself quietly.
Draco redirected his attention to Hamish, who was saying “… Competitors being judged exhausted if they had used all twenty of their charges up, this apes the exhaustion felt when using aggressive spells.”
“So they have to be used sparingly,” warned Draco.
Dean and Seamus led the party out over the bridge and along the path via which they had arrived, Draco accompanied them. They met two mages coming in the other direction, it was Ernie and Lavender.
“Hello Draco. Poppy sent us in case of any injuries. We phoned John, and Isabel said she was pleased to have us sleep over for two nights.”
“Thanks for coming guys; we’re just off to start the first exercise. Use the basement at the cottage for your surgery pro tem.”
Seamus took the sneakers to the Niggle Edge zone, going south from the central footpath between the two properties. Dean had the aggressors cooped up in the safe zone near Milkwood Hall. Only when Hamish brought acknowledgement of the sneakers arrival were the aggressors allowed to fan out and find ways of intercepting them. The sneakers aim was to reach the stream that ran alongside Milkwood Lane on the south-western boundary, a straight distance of about half a mile. However, there was a lot of wood space to the south and up the slope of Niggle edge – almost up to the summit; thus giving the evading team plenty of scope for manoeuvring.
One of the young goblins thought it was fun to aim at and hit the trees. However, he was shocked when he was made to retire before the game started. One of the referees explained that, because all twenty of his paint-jinxes had been used up, he was deemed exhausted. To say the least, his team-mates gave him a roasting for inconsiderately letting the side down. Even then, Draco and Hamish felt that it was a useful lesson in conserving one’s magical energies.
The first game was over before coffee break, with slightly more than half the sneakers home and dry, many of them elves. During the debrief, it was found that the elves had taken to the trees, thus escaping attention. The aggressors claimed it was against the rules, but were soon disabused of that notion by the referees. All kinds of jocular threats were made about the return match and, fortified by coffee and biscuits, the merry throng set out to do battle once more.
The lunchtime recapitulation had the same team winning, not by any great margin, but enough to make them chant about victory. The pool became varicoloured, as both excited teams jumped in wearing their coveralls. Before the buffet lunch Draco had to dip into his Harry connection to be able to give instruction on drying and remaking spells.
As they were eating, Draco drew Hamish’s attention to the way the teams had now divided and were sitting together at tables on different sides of the room, lobbing bread rolls at each other. The staff chatted about this, wondering if the teams should be re-arranged. Hamish advised against this, saying that a little partisanship helped with creating the team spirit which they were trying to engender. Lavender reported that various students had called at the makeshift surgery for scrapes and cuts to be healed; nothing serious, except one had to have her eyes washed out, despite wearing goggles she had received a paint-jinx directly on her nose and a few droplets had seeped through.
The afternoon game was timed to be longer. Each team had a treasure which they had to guard. The winners would be those who managed the take the other team’s treasure and retain, or retake, their own. There would be penalties for lost members; so, like the opposite of Quidditch, it would be possible to gain both treasures and lose the game. This time the teams started from different ends of the woodland, neither knowing exactly where the other team’s treasure was hidden, nor how it was guarded. A couple of times the opponents had to be physically separated, having become over enthusiastic in their determination to win. One particularly belligerent human was removed and an elf who kept throwing dead branches suffered a similar fate. Luckily they were from different sides. The team who had lost twice in the morning managed just to win this time, enabling them to save some face.
Harry had returned in the middle of the afternoon with a smug look on his face. Draco could feel an equally smug feeling inside.
D: *Do I take it that Kingsley was unable to beat you*?
H: *Yes, and he said if we progress like this I might be able to take the sergeant’s exam just after Christmas. Much as Adolphus had said to you and your lot*.
D: *I do hope we can keep up the pace*.
H: *Um, so do I. Fancy a ride on the duple under the cloak. See what the students are up to*?
D: *Good idea, Partner*.
Dinner was rowdy but not angry. Obviously the youngsters had enjoyed what had happened and were relating across their foursomes. Hamish had been cunning by ensuring that the combat teams contained at least one from each teaching quartet, plus all houses plus equal numbers of sexes. The result was a friendly atmosphere pervading the crowded annex veranda after the meal.
~~~ ANOTHER BEDTIME STORY ~~~
As before; table games, swimming and Quidditch moves held sway until chocolate time. Of course Harry was asked for another story, but he declined, asking Draco to tell one instead.
“When Damien was a young kid,” he started. “Younger than you lot! His father was a well-respected member of the community, so everyone though that Damien would be well looked after. Not so! In order to keep up appearances of great wealth, his father was a skinflint at home. Damien was denied many things that he really needed.”
“My dad is an old skinflint too,” someone added.
“Then you’ll know the feeling.” Draco nodded to the student: “Not knowing better, and kept away from others of his own age, Damien followed his father’s lead and developed a pose of his own perfect superiority. In reality, it kept in check his own feelings of hopelessness. Like Garry he looked forward to coming to Hogwarts, knowing that he’d have more freedom there, and might just make friends with someone who could lead him into wild adventures; in complete contrast to his stuffy home-life.”
“We had wild adventures today!” came as voice, followed by cheers.
“Exactly what Damien hoped would happen, but they were not to be. On that first train ride Damien scouted round until he found the ideal person, hoping that it would get him out of his rut. Only he found it difficult to approach him. At last, whilst they were waiting to be sorted … You all remember that, don’t you?”
“OH YES!” they breathed.
“Just there, at the top of the stairs, Damien offered his hand in friendship, but the dirty Rotter refused to shake hands. So Damien was back where he started.” Draco looked hurt.
“OH NO!”
“Yes! This other guy was so full of himself, swell-headed wasn’t the word.” Draco made big-head gestures and pulled a face. The audience giggled. “He had people fawning all over him all the time. Damien tried to pull him down a peg or two. You know! the usual thing; getting him to chase you with something you had of his, that kind of caper. The Rotter had no sense of humour and snatched the ball back, swearing at Damien. From then on things went from bad to worse. Progressing from name calling, to scuffles in dark places, to almost open warfare. The Rotter and his gang made poor Damien’s life hell,”
“I was bullied like that, at my first school,” came from among the audience.
“Damien was harried by all kinds of people, even his own father turned against him, but he managed to cling to some of his self-esteem; it was the only thing that kept him going.
As you know, quite recently we had a war in which Voldemort was defeated. During that, the bad lot captured Damien and subjected him to terrible torture.”
Harry conjured up an image of a medieval torture chamber, unsure what Draco might reveal.
“The things they did were cruel and horrendous, eventually, at the end of the excruciating experience, Damien passed out completely.”
The image now turned into a bloody corpse on the rack, which caused the audience to groan.
“He must have been rescued,” Draco continued, “because he woke up in bed in an unfamiliar room. ‘Where am I,’ he asked. ‘In my house,’ was the answer. Damien looked at the person and then quailed, because it was the Rotter towering over him.”
“Did the Rotter hurt him?” the girl’s voice had a slight sob in it.
“Well … Now … No! Much to Damien’s surprise the Rotter was kind, feeding him personally, helping to heal him, as well. Because of that, despite their bad beginnings, Damien and the Rotter became very firm friends. That friendship blossomed until they became partners and, because of that, had special magical qualities conferred on them.”
“Are you saying that the Rotter was our DADA Professor?”
“Would I say that? As Harry said last time, a part of this story is fictional and some of it is true. It’s up to you to sort out the moral, I don’t spoon feed you with answers, do I?”
Again the buzz started. Some of the more bloodthirsty wanted Draco to tell of the actual tortures, but he declined; smiling at Harry instead. It was half-past ten before the room began to empty. Draco went along to make sure no one misbehaved.
“Did you really swear at him, Professor?” Peter asked Harry.
“I sometimes still do. But that’s what a true partner can do. His other half knows to make allowances. It works the other way round, too. Draco has a very sharp tongue.”
“Yes I know!” was Peter’s reply, “I got told off for mucking up my potion, this week.”
“Can you prepare the potion properly now?”
“Oh yes! I worked in the evening and showed it to him the following morning. He was so pleased; he gave me my points back and then added more for extra application, so he said.”
“So it was worth the effort then?”
“You bet! I’ll also be more careful in his lessons from now on, too.”
“Fine … Goodnight Peter.”
“Goodnight Professor.”
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