Harry leaned his head back onto the rolled-up fleece he was using as a pillow and let the warm water soothe his aching muscles. The bubbles really did help and they seemed to target the sorer areas, pounding gently with small jets of force. Harry made a note to ask Malfoy for the spell later.
He frowned as he thought about Malfoy, who was actually being nice to him, for some reason. He pondered Malfoy's possible ulterior motives for a moment before giving up and just thinking about the way Malfoy had felt hauling him up the stairs. And the way he had smelled - honestly, it was criminal that the prat could smell so good after a day of digging through rocks, racing over an obstacle course in the hot sun (or holding on while Harry raced, at any rate), and performing a ridiculous challenge that involved blueberries...
Harry groaned and realized he would never again be able to see, smell, or taste a blueberry without thinking of Draco Malfoy and remembering the feel of his lips and the minute brush of his tongue.
"Damn it," Harry muttered and shifted in the water, cursing his erection. He couldn't wank with Malfoy on the other side of the door, able to walk in at any moment, and he especially couldn't wank while thinking about Malfoy because that would be seven kinds of wrong.
He pushed away from the edge and sank beneath the water, concentrating on shampooing his hair and scrubbing away the grime and berry residue until he was clean and no longer in danger of embarrassing himself.
He climbed out of the tub, feeling refreshed and not quite so tired. After a quick towel-off of his hair, he wrapped another towel around his waist and exited the bathroom. Malfoy was reclining on one of the beds, reading a newspaper. He barely glanced at Harry, who walked over to dig through the knapsack for his clothing. They had used a Shrinking Charm on several items in order to bring more without adding additional weight, hoping that their wands would be accessible.
Harry pulled out a tiny red t-shirt and retrieved his wand in order to return it to its normal size.
"Don't get dressed yet," Malfoy said.
Harry looked at him in surprise. "Why not?"
Malfoy tossed aside the paper. "I found something in the gift shop downstairs. I also ordered dinner sent up so we don't have to mingle with the others. You look far too tired to socialize."
Harry frowned. "We're supposed to watch our funds."
"We've been very frugal so far. I'm sure we'll be fine. Now lie face down on the bed."
Malfoy's voice was very matter-of-fact, but Harry gaped at him, the words derailing normal thought processes.
"For a massage, idiot. I bought this oil downstairs and the natives swear by it. Some special organic Finnish concoction. And it smells like chocolate."
"You're going to give me a massage?" Harry asked.
"Well, I don't think it will rub itself in." Malfoy examined the silvery bottle with a frown. "No, it says shake well and apply to skin. That suggests manual application."
"Very funny," Harry grumbled, but he decided he would be stupid to pass up an opportunity to have Malfoy's hands on him, even though the very thought of it was causing his cock to twitch in anticipation. He would just have to be very careful to remain face down. He shrugged and crawled onto the bed before sprawling over the pillows and arranging them for maximum comfort, careful not to lose his towel in the process.
Malfoy sat on the bed next to him and Harry gasped as cool oil drizzled over his back. "Is it too cold?" Malfoy asked.
"No," Harry replied and then bit his lip as Malfoy's hand smeared through it and began to rub it in. After a moment, Malfoy's other hand joined it and his long fingers pressed into Harry's aching shoulders. Harry groaned with pleasure. Malfoy's hands froze for a moment and then continued moving, pressing more roughly. "Why are you being nice to me?"
"Because I want to win and having you broken down and useless will keep me from victory."
Harry laughed and relaxed a bit, wincing as Malfoy's fingers dug into a particularly stiff ache. "Very Slytherin."
"Of course," Malfoy replied.
They were silent after that and Harry breathed deeply of the scent, which was an amazing blend of chocolate, vanilla, and some spices that Harry didn't recognize. It was very exotic and he felt his muscles loosening with every stroke of Malfoy's hands.
"You're good at this," Harry said once and received a noncommittal grunt for his effort. Malfoy's hands pushed and prodded at his lower back, thumbs driving in to tease at elusive kinks Harry didn't know he had. Harry yawned, feeling almost criminally relaxed and thinking Malfoy had missed his calling. He should be working in a day spa.
Malfoy switched to Harry's legs, starting at his ankles and working his way up. Harry found himself dozing off, focussing on nothing but Malfoy's hands and the smell of chocolate. Malfoy's rhythm was both seductive and lulling: grip, push, squeeze, push, twist, push, caress, grip, push, squeeze... It was the caress that was getting to Harry, just a gentle brush as Malfoy shifted his fingers to a new spot. Combined with Harry's relaxed state, it seemed to send an electric current travelling straight to his cock, which was pleasantly hard.
Harry entertained a brief fantasy or two of Malfoy sliding his hands beneath the towel and massaging something other than his legs... and then his fantasy dissolved into a dream.
ooOOooOOoo
Draco had just reached the curve of Potter's arse when he realized he hadn't heard a sound from the man for a while.
"Potter?"
Silence. The prat had fallen asleep. Draco sighed and decided his skills must be getting rusty. Either that or Potter simply wasn't interested, which was far more likely despite the Auror's blushes.
Draco debated with himself for a moment or two and pushed his hands beneath the flannel and flipped it upward as if by accident, exposing Potter's amazing arse. Draco had admired it beneath Potter's trousers and silly Muggle shorts, but he had been unprepared for the sight of such perfection. Potter's arse was smooth and lickable, with adorable indentations on the sides that seemed to beg for the touch of Draco's hand, and lips, and tongue...
Draco snatched his hands away, fearing what Potter would see if he should awaken now. He would see Draco, flushed and panting, with an unwelcome hardness growing between his legs. Salazar, had it been so long that he was half-undone by the thought of molesting a sleeping man? Draco pulled the towel back over Potter's arse with finality. After a moment, he rose and tugged a blanket over Potter, as well, dragging it from the corner of the bed and draping it awkwardly. It only covered Potter's legs, but he likely wouldn't catch a chill.
Draco went downstairs to cancel dinner and buy a bottle of Firewhiskey, instead. He had a feeling it would be a long night.
ooOOooOOoo
"Is it on yet?" Hermione called from the kitchen.
"Just the recap," Ron replied.
"I love recaps," Luna said. "You always notice different things on the second viewing, I think."
"Yeah, like how ugly Rita Skeeter's jumper is," Neville muttered.
Ron laughed, but Luna said, "I quite like that shade of turquoise, but the buttons are all wrong for that jacket. If she had used smaller ones in the shape of daffodils, it would double as an effective means of protection against - "
"Hermione, do you need help with that?" Ron called, hoping to avoid another long-winded discussion about one of Luna's imaginary creatures. At least, Ron prayed they were all imaginary, because if booteans (or whatever she had called them) were real, then Ron was never sleeping again.
"Can you fetch the butterbeer?"
Ron grinned apologetically at Neville, who was staring at the screen paying no attention. By the time Ron returned with Hermione in tow, the screen was filled with contestants.
"Harry and Draco are standing much closer together," Luna commented. "Their shared experiences must have bonded them. That's good to see."
Ron cocked his head. He supposed it was true. Harry and Malfoy were near enough that their elbows brushed and Harry actually grinned when Malfoy leaned close to murmur something to him. "Bonded," Ron muttered. "That'll be the day." But he wondered.
"...travel to Helsinki and then by boat to St Petersburg, Russia, where you will search for your next clue!" Lee Jordan was saying. "The vehicles are waiting to take you to the harbour. Ready? GO!"
The contestants bolted as a group, racing for the Muggle cars that waited nearby.
"Russia?" Ron asked dubiously.
ooOOooOOoo
The boat ride to St Petersburg was mainly boring. The ship was utilitarian and all of the passengers mingled in a common area that contained bolted-down metal tables and benches that looked out over the sea. The view was particularly boring due to the weather, which had started out foggy and grown increasingly gloomy. Nothing was visible through the windows but grey sky and a greyer sea.
Malfoy and Brendon had joined a group of Muggles and were learning how to play poker, of all things. Nigel sat next to Harry and chattered away about dragons, which made Harry wistful thinking about Charlie Weasley, whom he hadn't seen in quite some time.
Every so often, Malfoy would shoot Harry a venomous glare, which was puzzling since he had been extraordinarily nice earlier. When Harry had awakened sometime after midnight, he had sat up and blinked in confusion. Malfoy had been asleep on the second bed, Harry's towel was bunched next to him on the mattress, and one of his arse cheeks had been cold from being uncovered.
Harry's face had burned at the thought of having fallen asleep naked beneath Malfoy's hands. Not that Malfoy would have molested him... He had shoved away a flare of disappointment at the idea and hurried to locate his pyjamas, which he had pulled on before climbing back into bed, beneath the blankets that time.
Thinking about it now, Harry felt his cheeks grow warm. The massage oil rested in his knapsack and he doubted he would ever smell chocolate again without thinking of Malfoy. He glanced at his partner to find Malfoy's eyes fixed on him, flashing fire, and then he realized Nigel's hand was on his arm, shaking gently.
"Harry, are you all right?"
Harry focussed on Nigel and forced a smile. "Yeah, sorry about that. I was thinking about something."
"Must have been intense," Nigel said with a laugh.
"Intense," Harry agreed, nodding. Everything about Malfoy was intense. Harry wondered what he had done to irritate his partner now, since Malfoy had been perfectly friendly when Harry had awakened. He had even fetched Harry's breakfast while he dressed. Whatever Harry had done wrong, it had to have occurred after they had boarded the boat.
Harry looked over at Rita Skeeter, who was interviewing one of the bouncy girls. Rita had been infrequently asking questions of all the participants, with the exception of Harry, of course. She had even asked Malfoy a few inane questions, inquiring about Malfoy's favourite colour, Quidditch team, and clothing designer. Harry had been pleased to note that he already knew the answers to those questions.
Harry tried to ignore Malfoy's glowers and focus on Nigel for the remainder of the journey. He was a nice enough sort, if a trifle boring, but it was better than chatting with the bouncy girls, who had a tendency to giggle so much that it eventually made Harry's head hurt.
Eventually, they arrived in St Petersburg and entered a terrifying-looking bus provided for their transportation. The bus drove at breakneck speeds through streets that were either almost deserted or packed with cars and pedestrians, nearly causing Harry to shriek aloud at several points, and grip the leather strap as though it were a lifeline.
Even Malfoy and the tea shop girls looked a bit green when exiting the bus in front of an opulent building lavishly decorated with huge white columns between walls of mint green. The columns and window embrasures were embellished in golden flourishes that Harry could not begin to put a name to, but he was certain they had elaborate architectural terms.
"Beautiful Rococo style," Malfoy murmured, causing Harry to eye him suspiciously. Of course the prat would know the technical names.
Lee Jordan was waiting for them. "Welcome to Russia, fellow competitors! You have had quite a few physical challenges so far, but now it's time to exercise your mental faculties. This magnificent building behind us is the Hermitage Museum. It is filled with amazing works of art, furnishings and architectural marvels. You will be allowed to keep your wands for this challenge - believe me, you will need them. Be aware, however, that this is a Muggle museum and wand use should be discreet. Points will be deducted in the event you are spotted using magic by a Muggle, and yes, Obliviators are standing by in the event such a mistake occurs."
Harry glanced at the other competitors. Nigel bit his lip and looked nervous.
"Hidden amongst the thousands of artistic works inside are select pieces of wizarding creation. One room in five will have a single magical item. It is your job to identify these items and correctly list them. How you discover them is up to you. It will not be an easy task. You also have a four hour time limit. This is not an elimination phase, but the winner will receive a prize and the losers will be subjected to penalties regarding the next phase. Any questions?"
There were none. Small notebooks were handed out to each team.
"What is this?" Malfoy asked, twisting a small object in his hand.
Harry took it with a sigh. "It's a pen. For writing."
"You can do the writing, then."
"Fine," Harry snapped.
"You know the rules," Lee said loudly. "Remember; four hours! Your time begins... NOW!"
The bouncy girls raced up the incline to the main doors of the museum, followed by the dragon tamers at a somewhat more sedate pace. Rita Skeeter and Gertrude Acrimony already had their heads together, whispering. The tea shop girls bypassed them and walked into the museum.
"Well?" Harry asked his capricious partner.
"After you, Potter."
Harry rolled his eyes and started off. Inside, Harry stopped short in sheer amazement. The room was enormous, filled with white columns holding up massive arches on the ceiling. The small bits of wall space that were not taken up by columns were painted in a soothing shade of yellow. The floors were marble in a white and grey checkerboard pattern that should have looked odd, but instead seemed to highlight the beauty of the walls and ceiling.
"Wow," Harry said.
Malfoy threw him a rueful look and walked quickly through the room, forcing Harry to nearly run to keep up.
"Wait! You're going too fast! How are we supposed to know which items are wizarding if you view them at broomspeed?"
"I already know which item it is, Potter. I'm just taking you out of earshot so that the others won't hear." Malfoy stopped in front of a large dark-coloured vase and cocked his head to examine it.
"Is this it?" Harry asked in a hushed whisper.
"Of course not. Honestly. I'm trying to throw the others. It was the Laocoon."
Harry blinked at him and then glanced toward the girls, who were lurking near a Romanesque bust and shooting curious looks their way. "The what?" Harry asked.
"The Laocoon. By Triscorni." Malfoy rolled his eyes and snatched the booklet and pen from Harry in order to jot down the information.
"How do you know?"
"Didn't you notice the snake motif? We have a replica at the Manor. Besides, Triscorni was a wizard. It's common knowledge. This one was simple, obviously a warm-up. Let's move on."
By the time they reached the fourth room, Harry's mind was awhirl. He was still trying to puzzle out why anyone would build a vase the size of a fountain when Malfoy paused.
"Potter, cast a Tracer."
"A what? Why?"
"Just do it."
Harry frowned. "Using what as a focus?"
"No focus. Just cast it."
Harry was about to argue, but he realized that Malfoy might be smarter than he was, as least in this instance, and he looked around quickly for Muggles before casting a Tracer Spell without concentrating on anything in particular.
A pinkish bolt shot from the end of his wand, spun into a confused looking spiral, and then dissipated into a pink mist.
"Well, that didn't work," Harry said with possibly a hint of smugness.
"Wait," Malfoy said.
The mist hovered and then coalesced once more into a darker ball that shot around behind them and landed upon an object inside a large glass case. Malfoy nodded.
"The coronet. Very nice. Good work, Potter." Malfoy moved on to another case before pulling out his notebook and jotting down their discovery. Harry peered more closely at the coronet. It was beautiful, made of gold interlaced in a leaf pattern and set with a single red stone. Gryffindor colours, he thought in amusement and decided against sharing the idea with Malfoy.
"Why is it magic?" Harry asked as they moved on to the next room.
"It's not magical in itself, Potter. It was created with magic. Either the crafting or the construction. It's very difficult to utilize magic as an artistic tool, you know. It takes special skill."
"Do you have any um... special skill?" Harry asked and then could have cut out his own tongue when Malfoy's grey eyes slid toward him and a smirk curved his lips.
"My special skill doesn't require magic, Potter," Malfoy replied smoothly.
Harry blushed and dared not say anything more. He wondered where the other teams had gone. The tea shop girls seemed to have hurried ahead of them, and Harry occasionally glimpsed the dragon tamers, but the others were not in sight.
Harry found himself growing increasingly amazed at Malfoy's knowledge. He had breezed through one room and moved into another before pausing to scribble down a note. Harry had read over his shoulder.
"The set with the chalice? You barely glanced at them. How can you tell?"
"Alchemy tools. Very common."
Thankfully, Malfoy refrained from making Harry feel like an idiot. The museum was immense, and so filled with artistic works and architecture that Harry soon tired of gaping at every hall and each amazing item. The magical pieces were varied and had little rhyme or reason, including a carved ivory figurine that was labelled a "bird" but looked more to Harry like a Muggle airplane. Or a lizard. Or like someone had started to carve a spoon and grew bored and quit.
Malfoy spent a long time staring at an ancient axe-head carved with animals.
"Is it magical?" Harry finally asked and Malfoy shook his head as he straightened.
"Only as magical as history, Potter. Don't you wonder who made it? An instrument of death, and yet the shape of it is beautiful. It's not just a weapon; it's a work of art. And the crafter spent untold hours carving designs into it with simple tools... It's incredible."
"It's Muggle."
Malfoy nodded. "Art knows no boundaries. Wizard, Muggle, pure-blood, mudblood. None of that matters in the artistic realm."
"None of that matters in any realm," Harry countered. He looked at the item with new eyes, picturing an ancient artisan's rough hands gripping the ridged handle, holding it up to the light to better view the carvings, sharing in the sense of pride he must have felt... Harry shifted his gaze to Malfoy and smiled, feeling a strange connection through their shared appreciation of the work of someone long forgotten. It was extraordinarily intimate and Harry almost forgot to breathe for a moment or two, until Malfoy straightened.
"Time is ticking, Potter. Come along." Malfoy was back inside his businesslike facade, leading the way like a dictator before his troops. Harry smiled wryly and followed.
ooOOooOOoo
"And time is up!" Lee Jordan yelled. "All of our contestants have made it to the carpet on time, even Rita Skeeter and Gertrude Acrimony, who arrived at the last moment. Your lists have been turned in to the judges for comparison and the results will be here shortly."
"How do you think they did?" Ron asked nervously.
"I don't think Harry could identify the Mona Lisa with a large plaque attached to it," Hermione said dryly.
"But Malfoy?"
"You were at Malfoy Manor, remember?" Luna asked.
Ron's gaze shot to Hermione. The colour drained from her face for a moment and Ron shot to his feet to embrace her. He nearly snapped at Luna, but her gaze was on the screen. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Yeah, we remember."
Luna seemed oblivious. "Then you've seen the art. Draco will do well."
"Let's just watch," Hermione said and moved to the sofa to sit down. Ron kept an arm around her as he joined her.
"Incredibly, we have a tie," Lee said.
~TBC~
Author's Note: The Finnish massage oil really exists. I've been terribly tempted to order some because it sounds divine. But it would be better with a blond to apply it... :D This was my favourite chapter because the Hermitage is AMAZING. Their website is so astounding I spent a full week virtually wandering the rooms. Definitely one of the top places in the world I would love to visit. St Petersburg gets a thumbs WAY up for being incredibly gorgeous. And Draco was fabulous in this chapter, a fact Harry is only beginning to appreciate. *grin*