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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
- 83
- 84
- 85
[Note: conversation =: “speech” & ‘thoughts’ & *telepathy* & #Parseltongue# & {telephone}]
~~~ PRESSGANGS ~~~
The dull overcast Monday morning was a complete contrast to the high of the week ago Sunday’s Harvest Home. That week was run-of-the-mill, only minor abrasions from the duelling club, and all the extra group tutorials were fine.
Blaise opted for a dinner to celebrate his birthday on Tuesday. Afterwards he introduced the Dumbledorians to some brainy party games – none of them too vigorous. By midnight the giggling horde were in bed
During the week; the village based mages plus the various trainees made inroads into the re-fashioning of the function room; with an H&D-alerted Filius ensuring that the pair of constructional mages’ enthusiasm did not outstrip their energy. John and Augusta visited the Hogwarts Library; thus he was the first charmed muggle to use the portal since it was moved. They spent almost the whole day with Madam Pince, so an extra place was set at the high table for him, with Winky warning Isabel about possible missed meals. Asked to say grace, and in keeping with the atmosphere, John said it in Latin.
~~~ WEEKEND ~~~
Things were fairly tame at the weekend, as the initial third-year group had their first combat practice.
D&H went to buy some sweets at the village shop. Reminding our pair about her philosophy of diversification, Mrs Amis announced that she was stocking some of the Honeydukes’ sweets because of the new parishioners’ requests. Mrs Amis opened up especially for the third-years for half an hour after dinner on Saturday; later telling Harry and Draco of her satisfaction in the experiment.
They noticed that the shop was open on Sunday for half an hour at midday, and popped in to ask why.
“Yere nice mister Carter arranged the stock for me. Yere students bought our sweets as well as yere special sweets, and they liked the ’ome made dandelion un burdock as Mrs Pierce ’as been making for us, too. They were real well-behaved, too. Un that nice Mr Pressgang says ’ee can convert yere funny money into proper money an ’elped me work out the prices innit as well.”
Draco sent a quick thought to Harry: *That lecture about privileges you gave to them, paid off; didn’t it*?
Harry winked and smiled is affirmation.
At lunch the pair quizzed John about Mrs Amis opening on Sunday.
There’s an old law that permits the selling of food on a Sunday, otherwise we wouldn’t be eating here, would we? She sells sweets and drinks so that complies with the legal requirements. She probably trades in other things as well, but we don’t alert the authorities, and she’s not open for that long anyway.”
“That sounds like our attitude to the Statute of Secrecy,” Draco chuckled.
John smiled back and then looked serious: “A word of warning; people are beginning to wonder how big your establishment is, because so many students appear along Milkwood Lane each Sunday. Having been to your library I now know how it’s done, but it might be an idea to explain to the parishioners that you have converted Milkwood Hall into a boarding school. Even then, as more students appear you may need to make further explanations. One idea might be to make another portal to the station. Make it hidden so that people appear only after a train stops.”
“Good idea John, we’re already considering it. After all, a number of magely families already use it,” Draco appeased, feeling horrified at the idea of making another portal so soon. Then he explained: “We have an apparating point hidden in the old goods shed.
“You did that quietly, well done, I am usually aware of all that happens in my parish. That piece of information had not been disclosed until you told me. The trains normally arrive every other hour. I thought we had had an influx of people out of time last weekend.”
“We did, it was after dark or Friday evening and Douglas put it about that it was a special. After all, on certain weekends we’ve had an occasional hikers’ or enthusiasts’ special, so nobody thought much of it. There’s another particular one this weekend. Justin or Michael will be making the illusion appear out of the tunnel and depart that way. It’s only a couple of hundred yards. Douglas has a timetable for ‘normals’ ‘specials’ and ‘particulars’ already worked out. On a lightly used country branch there’s plenty of scope for adding extra trains. The trees hide what happens on the platform.”
“Very cunning; thus it preserves your Statute of Secrecy.”
“Quite so, although all the villagers will soon know, stuff leaks out no matter how careful we are. What is important is that outsiders like those from Grumblewell don’t realise; hence the illusions. Departing does not present as many problems as long as it’s a trickle.”
“Yes, I can see that. The ‘particular’ this weekend …?”
“… Will have quite a number of goblins on it.”
“Ah yes, I understand.”
~~~ SATURDAY ~~~
That weekend had the grand opening and shop blessing of ‘Pressgang’s Post Office and Press Emporium’.
A ‘Particular’ ran at just after midday, seeming to convey goblins from Gringotts, and seneschals from the Wizengamot meeting. Those in the know used the portals too. Dan had closed off the village square so that the participants had room to stand in front of the shop. The Hierophant made a speech and then asked the Minister to cut the tape. After that the Pressgang family offered their guests the traditional glass of sherry and an oatcake.
Porlock and his family had a well-proportioned flat above, and had taken D&H’s advice to run a newsagent as well as the post office. He had two agencies; one for the muggle bank in Great Grumblewell and another for Gringotts. The Flourish and Blotts agency would come on line at All Saints tide; nicely in time to sell Christmas cards, gifts and decorations.
The Sunday Service had John making a peculiar announcement:
“All Saints Day falls on a Monday this year. The Church Council and I have decided that we will hold the celebration one day earlier; as is allowed for in the Lectionary. This means that the village dance on Saturday next will have a Halloween theme. We suggest that grotesque masks might be appropriate. I do believe that a certain newly opened shop has such items on sale and it would give the new owners a boost if we were to patronise their emporium.”
Naturally the Dumbledorians’ fancy was taken and they wanted to participate.
On Monday at tea time D&H received a deputation from the second-years.
“Professors, would we be allowed to attend, please. We could finish early at the house and then get cleaned up.”
“We see no problems with that,” replied Draco, “One of the third year-groups will be at Milkwood Hall, so you’ll have to return here to sleep, I’m afraid.”
“Erm …” The spokesman looked slightly abashed: “The roof’s back on, the bathroom’s working and we have cleaned out two rooms. We thought to sleep-over together, boys in one room girls in another.”
Pullet popped in: “If you give permission, we’ve found sleeping bags for them all. They have enough transfiguration knowledge to expand a couple of mattresses. The Headmistress held a special lesson to teach them.”
“So we have imprimatur then,” Draco joshed.
“It seems so,” the elf replied: “The kitchen here is geared up to supply extra food as necessary.”
“Do I get the feeling that you might like to spend a weekend there?” queried Harry.
“That’d be great, Professor, may we?”
H: *It is a holiday, after all*.
“Yes, we’ll port over after tea on Friday.”
“THANK YOU PROFESSORS,” the delegation chorused.
D&H did check with Minerva and she smilingly agreed and gave them a list of names for the Monday night fire-jumping ceremony. She added that the second years could stay on to witness that as well.
~~~ AMICUS’S FURY ~~~
There was one Hogwarts highlight during the next week, when Amicus got his bum scorched during the Wednesday Duelling Club; much to everyone’s delight and his own fury. That fury grew as he was teased unmercifully about the incident. D&H felt that something needed to be done about the mental damage caused by the alienation feelings inside the young man.
D: *I’m not the best one to counsel him, although he’s in my house*,
H, drily: *Harry to the rescue again*?
After tea on Thursday Amicus had a distinctly surly attitude when he came to see Harry. Nevertheless, he sat when Harry asked him to, as well as accepting a glass of pumpkin juice. Then Harry asked him what was the matter. Firstly, Amicus would not answer. Then he blamed it on the ‘burning balls’ incident.
“I know I said I would behave better, but it hardly seems worthwhile. They’re all against me.”
“Do you have any friends, Amicus?”
“Yes, my dorm mates.”
“Were they sympathetic?”
“Yes, Gareth helped to rub on the healing potion, and Lizzie repaired my trousers for me.”
“So there’re a few more friends than just your dorm mates, am I correct?”
“I s’pose so.” Amicus looked at his hands: “That Jennifer was sympathetic too. I don’t know why after I spoilt her potion.”
“Perhaps they all see some good in you. Something worth nurturing, someone they want to help. You can’t be all that bad if that’s so.”
Amicus half smiled and then looked miserable.
“Why did you try to spoil people’s potions?” Harry asked, after a minute or two’s silence.
“I’m not that good at potions and my father was always top in his class. He expects me to do well in them too.”
“Draco used to get beaten when he wasn’t top of the class, does that happen to you as well?”
Amicus went white. Harry had a peculiar feeling of dread come over him.
Draco had been listening through Harry’s ears and felt the same thing: *I think he’s been ensorcelled not to reveal what happens at home. Keep him talking, I know where to look up the counter-curse*.
“Let me tell you what happened to me, Amicus. In the Triwizard Tournament I was picked as a fourth contestant; definitely against the rules.”
“Yes, I heard,” a look of relief flooded Amicus’s face as the subject changed: “Everybody thought you had cheated. But it turned out that you’d been ensorcelled by one of Voldemort’s followers disguised as a professor.”
“Yes I was; Voldie thought he needed my blood to help him resurrect. He got it, but the transformation was not totally complete. Maybe it was because my blood wasn’t suited to him; having my mother’s self-sacrificing love within it. Dumbledore was the only person who believed me when I told him that Voldie was alive again. My two closest friends thought I was delusional for a week or two. I was completely by myself because Dumbledore was away somewhere. Somehow I stuck it out; slowly a few people began to believe me, three of my dorm mates and one girl. I existed like that for nearly a year until Voldie attacked the Ministry and the truth was revealed.”
“Mmm … So what you’re saying is, that I’m luckier than you, are you?”
“Partly, but it’s more important that you believe in your self-worth. The inner you that’s good. The one who voluntarily promised not to damage other student’s work. The one who cared enough about his other housemates worry to go and tell them about two professors’ safety. The one who your dorm mates and some of the girls like, despite your hang-ups. The one who your Father wants to be best in the subjects he was best in. The one who does extremely well in my DADA class.”
*I have it*! Draco conveyed the formula to Harry’s brain.
Amicus went white again as soon as his father was mentioned.
“Why were you pleased when Draco and I were found, Amicus?”
“Because Professor Malfoy now goes out of his way to help me with potions. You, because I like DADA and you seem to want everyone in your class to succeed. Why do you ask?”
“I think you’re caught up in something bigger than you, like I was. You’re being forced into not revealing something. The tension is nearly crippling you, isn’t it?”
Amicus shivered and looked haunted: “You know, don’t you?”
“Yes … Do you want to be rid of it?”
Amicus nodded positively; then he fell out of his chair, started to howl in pain and writhe around.
“Seperabo Patris Tui Maledictum in buxum statum ire!” Harry placed his fingers on Amicus’s forehead: “Timeas Eum Ultra Tibi!” and drew out a puce filament which he placed in a box which had materialised floating next door. Harry closed the lid and the box disappeared.
Amicus screamed and collapsed.
H, nervously: *Did I do it right, Draco*?
D: *Yes! Now enervate him*.
Harry did just that. Amicus’s body lost its rictus of pain, his lungs started to work again, colour flooded back to his cheeks and he started crying. Harry sat on the floor and supported the overwrought student.
A couple of minutes elapsed, Amicus took a deep breath, accepted the hanky that Harry offered and mopped his face. Amicus sobbed a few times and then started to whisper:
“Yes … He beat me … Unmercifully … Gareth has seen the scars … He hasn’t as many as I have … Because his father was imprisoned as a death-eater.”
“Then you share the same fate as Draco and me. We were beaten too.”
“Do you have scars too?”
“They’ve faded; all except the one Voldie gave me.” Harry drew his fringe aside to show Amicus: “And the ones I gave Draco when I was angry with him once and nearly killed him.”
“But you two are very close, aren’t you? Why did the Fluence pair you up if you were at loggerheads?”
Harry shrugged: “Who knows, the Spirit and the Fluence have their own agendas. Possibly we needed to be toughened up first. I had a geas set upon me when Voldie killed my mother, the one that led to his death. That freed me to be myself. Draco had a difficult dark path to follow before he was set free. It was his healing that the Fluence used to seal us magically.”
“And in other ways too?”
D: *The grapevine says he and Gareth are sharing a bed, and have been for some time*.
“How close are you to Gareth?”
Now Amicus’s face blushed: “Erm … We share our secrets?”
“Just your secrets?”
Amicus’s face went beet-red: “You know, don’t you … Erm … Yes, we’re lovers. We got the elves to put our beds next door, touching, that is. Our mates know, but we’ve kept it very low key, in case my father finds out. He keeps on lining up potential heiresses for me to fall in love with, but I’m still faithful to Gareth. None of the girls excite me as much as he does. You will keep it secret won’t you?”
“I shall have to let Draco know, we can’t keep secrets from each other.”
Amicus looked alarmed and then curious: “Erm … Did you say can’t?”
“Yes, part of our magical partnership means that we have total access to each other’s brains and knowledge. In fact, he already knows, because he’s listening through my ears at the moment, he’s also marking some essays at the same time.”
*I’m coming in to your study*.
*Fine*, “He says he’s coming to see us.”
“That’s some link you’ve got. Will Gareth and I develop it?”
“That depends on what the Fluence wants.”
“Mmm, yes, I s’pose it does.”
“Have you developed a pink aura yet?”
“We’re not much good at crystal balls and that stuff. Professor Trelawney hasn’t said anything about seeing one on us.”
At that point Draco opened the door and entered, going over to Harry and giving him a proper, but not lingering, kiss.
“Oh!” Amicus’s mouth dropped open. He quickly shut it and then smiled shyly.
“Now you know,” Draco said: “Your secret is safe with us, just as ours is safe with you. A Slytherin pact, yes, Amicus?”
“Yes! A Slytherin pact, Professor Malfoy.”
As both parties shook hands a quick golden glow surrounded them and then disappeared. Harry felt the non-Revelio take hold of him through the link.
Draco put a comradely hand around Amicus’s shoulders: “That pact holds Harry just as much as me. He’s already said that we share everything mentally. As you now know, it’s physically as well.
“But what about Ginevra Weasley and Astoria Greengrass? Everyone knows you’re going to marry them some day.”
“This knowledge is within the pact, Amicus.”
“Okay!”
“They’re enamoured of each other, but we’re deep friends also.”
“Perhaps you two should look for two girls who are in the same position,” Harry suggested.
Amicus giggled: “Oh … I see … Very Slytherin of you … Erm … May I bring Gareth within the pact?”
“That seems fair,” came from Harry: “Phealey!”
Pop: “Yes, Harry?”
“Could you ask Gareth Avery to come to my study, please?”
Phealey giggled: “He’s outside the apartment door sitting waiting for Amicus to tell him what punishment he’s been given. He hid behind the tapestry when Draco came through.”
“Fine … I’ll call him myself, then.”
Phealey popped away.
Harry did that. After some explanation, and a check that Gareth was not ensorcelled; he swore the pact and was let into the secret.
“You’ve freed Ami from the curse, how wonderful, thanks a lot Professors. Our sex life was inhibited by it. You see, he could fuck me but I couldn’t reciprocate. We tried once, it was a good thing we were very private, because he screamed the place down.”
“Yes … And I had a few painful beatings when father got to know … Oh dear … He’ll know the compulsion is off me now.”
“Not until you leave the school’s wards he won’t,” Harry averred: “I made it a secret within the wards. We have plenty time to work out what to do before you go back home at Christmas.”
“We’re supposed to go out with them for dinner during the Halloween break.”
“Both of you?”
“Yes, now Father and Mother are dead, I’m in Ami’s family’s care. They don’t know of our attachment, beyond being deep friends.”
Draco winked at Amicus: “Mr Dendron, you have been abysmal at potions, if you hope to pass your exam you will need extra tuition. I shall write to your father and say that we have arranged a free crash course over the Halloween period and expect your continual attendance.”
Amicus smiled viciously: “And I was so looking forward to going out with my parents,” he added falsely.
Draco looked at Gareth: “Your potions knowledge could do with tweaking too.”
“I should keep company with my friend to make sure he doesn’t become overwrought and overworked, shouldn’t I? The ‘free’ thing should catch them because the Wizengamot has confiscated a number of valuable heirlooms from Ami’s family. At least that’s what his dad says.”
“One pure-blood family helping another is also a good argument, isn’t it Draco?”
“Hmm … Not thought of that … I’ll work a subtle reference into the letter, thanks, Harry.”
“Erm … Professors, how all-encompassing will the course be?”
“What Ami’s hinting at is: will we have some free time?”
“Of course; you both like animals, don’t you?”
“Yes … But that’s not an answer.”
“Hmm … At Chantry cottage I have a small potions lab, I’ve made up physics for cows and hens. Tor – that’s Astoria Greengrass – wants some horse rubs making plus a couple of physics as well.”
“But that’s outside the school’s wards.”
“No, the portal has made both establishments the same. I tried an experiment a few weeks ago,” affirmed Harry: “I dare say we could find you a double room to share at Chantry Cottage, too.”
“All private like?”
“Yes and a double bed.”
Two happier students departed to go and prepare for dinner. Draco sent the owl off to Amicus’s father, receiving an owl back within half an hour. It stressed that Amicus had to be beaten if he didn’t comply and gave Draco full authority – pure-blood to pure-blood – to apply the cane or whip as necessary to both of the young students.
Amicus and Gareth were called back later in the evening, after D&H had conducted their usual tutorials, and shown the letter.
“You won’t, will you?” Amicus looked fearfully at Draco.
“Oh yes! I beat all my pupils regularly,” replied Draco drily, then he pulled a malicious face and rubbed his hands together melodramatically: “I have a unique whip with barbs in it, especially reserved for students who are found fornicating.”
That got him a double-take from Gareth, before they all dissolved in laughter.
“More to the point,” said Harry: “Kreacher, our Reeve, has a room booked for you, and we will port there after tea tomorrow. If you pack what you want in a case and leave it on your beds in the morning, the elves will take them to your allotted room at our cottage. There’ll be a Halloween-themed village dance as well, if you want to attend. Pressgangs have masks on sale for a galleon, or you can make your own.”
“Pressgangs?”
“It’s a goblin stationers and post office in the village.”
“Oh … Erm … What’s a post office?”
“It’s a muggle form of owl office, like the one in Hogsmeade. The muggles don’t use owls but organise a system of vehicles, trains and people to deliver their letters.”
“So they’re not as backward as my parents suggest.”
“We thought not, from our studies with Professor Holderness,” added Gareth.
“He has a cottage in our village too. His musical group form part of the choir at church.”
“Is that where that bloke in black works … The one who said grace in Latin.”
“That’s correct, he’s a friend of ours.”
“We’ve heard the rumours about the singing and ritual; would we be able to go?”
“Yes if you want to. It’ll be a different form of service to the harvest one, though.”
“We weren’t allowed to go, my parents refused us permission. They said it was against our creed. There are others whose parents were obdurate too. We felt left out of it; our mates said it was a new and interesting experience.”
“Well … Now they can no longer thaumically get at Ami … We’d like to go.”
“We’ll find you a friendly Dumbledorian who’ll help you with the books and liturgy. Now you’d better be off before curfew, hadn’t you?”
“Yes Professors … Goodnight and thanks again.”
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