The Incredible Race


"Good evening, lovely viewers! And welcome to the very first episode of The Incredible Race, brought to your homes and businesses via tellywizion and the WBC. I am your host, Lee Jordan. Tonight I am standing on the north bank of the Thames, waiting to meet our competitors, seven unlikely pairs who will brave blistering heat, freezing cold, and gruelling challenges in order to win One Million Galleons and the chance to call themselves the winners of The Incredible Race!

Without further ado, let's meet our stalwart contestants!"

"Hermione! Come watch this!" Ron bellowed. "It's on!"

Neville snorted a laugh. "Lee is wearing his Gryffindor scarf! What a card!"

"First up are bandmates, Allin and Jessyka, members of the wildly popular 'Ravenous Beasts'! Say hello to your fans!"

"Boooo!" yelled Ron.

"Ron, that's not nice," chastised Hermione as she placed a plate of sandwiches on the low table. "Oh my, is her hair... striped?"

"She looks like a rainbow zebra," Neville said.

"Hello, fans, friends, and family! We're going to kick arse!" The stripe-haired girl raised her fist and pumped it.

"We will win this thing!" her companion yelled, face almost completely obscured by a gigantic mop of black hair.

"Next up we have Virginia and Norton, a happy couple from Sussex."

Virginia's round face beamed from beneath a mop of reddish curls barely held down with a mauve kerchief. She waved wildly. "Pleased to be here!"

Ron snorted. "She looks soft. She'll be out on the first physical challenge."

"Don't underestimate her. You can't judge by appearances."

"I guess," said Ron dubiously and reached for a sandwich.

Norton's face filled the screen. He was a balding fellow with a missing lower tooth and a gummy smile. "Greetings, wizardfolk! We, Virginia and me, might not be athletic, but we plan to try hard and give it our all. Virgie is a tough bird and I am fair sharpish." Norton tapped his forehead gravely.

Ron snorted. "I'll bet even Malfoy can out-sharpish Norton."

Lee grinned at Norton and then moved away from the couple as the view switched to a pair of tall men.

Ron whooped, spraying bits of bread over the table.

"Honestly, Ron, the show has barely begun. Contain your excitement", Hermione warned, but her eyes were fixed on the screen and she smiled even as she absently spelled away the crumbs.

"Next we have Auror partners and I'm sure you will all recognize at least one of them. Let's have a round of applause for Harry Potter!" Harry's sheepish grin filled the screen and he gave a half-hearted wave before he reached out and dragged forward a man who looked as though he would rather be incarcerated in Azkaban than in his current location.

"Draco and I are um... pleased to be here," Harry said. "Aren't we, Malfoy? Er... Draco?"

"Thrilled," Malfoy said in a glacial tone.

Ron guffawed loudly and slapped his knee. "This is going to be bloody hysterical. I wonder if Harry drops him off a cliff somewhere in darkest Africa?"

Hermione frowned. "It's really unfair they allow us no contact until after the series is completely shown. I hope Harry is all right, although I suppose they wouldn't be showing it if anything serious had happened..."

Neville chuckled. "Judging by their expressions, it's not Harry you need worry about."



"This is the bloody stupidest thing I've ever done," Malfoy growled when Lee Jordan moved on. "Fucking Edgemont."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Come on, Malfoy, we've been over this a dozen times. Just deal with it. We can get eliminated in the first challenge and you'll be well rid of me. Then this will be over and we can go back to ignoring one another."

His eyes narrowed, however, when Lee stopped to raise his wand toward two women, one of which watched him with an unpleasant smile.

"Rita Skeeter and Gertrude Acrimony!" Lee declared. "Friends and fellow reporters for the Daily Prophet, who will be printing titbits from the race as it is shown! Pick up your copy tomorrow for exciting behind-the-scenes news!"

"News," Malfoy growled. "More like fabricated vitriol." Harry nodded, for once agreeing with the git. He glanced sidelong at Malfoy, who was bundled against the wind in a black cloak thrown over his Auror Robes. Their appearance on The Incredible Race was nothing more than a publicity stunt to help advertise the new Wizarding answer to Muggle television. The Ministry hoped to encourage the wizarding populace to purchase tellywizions and promote a more cohesive wizarding network of information and acceptance. Or so the Minister's argument had gone. Harry secretly suspected the old bastard just wanted to humiliate him and Malfoy after the Teak Incident.

"Next meet Edna and Flora, tea shop patrons! They met at Cuppa, a fine establishment in Diagon Alley who just happens to be sponsoring several legs of the race. Be sure to stop in for a cuppa next time you're out shopping!"

Malfoy snorted while Harry appraised Edna and Flora, who looked more like professional Muggle rugby players than "tea shop patrons". Edna raised a beefy arm and waved while Flora stared at Lee malevolently. They reminded Harry of female versions of Crabbe and Goyle.

Next up were two bubbly girls who seemed the exact opposite of Flora and Edna. They had bouncy hair and bouncy curves and actually bounced in place as Lee announced that they were "best friends forever!" after which they linked hands and squealed while bouncing.

"We are going to win this race!" one shouted and then shrieked at an ear-piercing level.

"We might be pretty, but we are tough as hard-to-remove nail varnish!" the second said and bounced.

"Kimmy and Lisa," Malfoy said dryly. "The token breast-fest."

Harry nodded. "Followed by the token beefcake."

"I thought we were the token beefcake." Malfoy's tone was sarcastic, but Harry secretly agreed that Malfoy was definitely better looking than the model-quality boys speaking to Lee.

Kimmy and Lisa squealed, bounced, and giggled louder when Brendan and Nigel, dragon tamers, were introduced. The boys smiled and lifted their hands in twin victory signs, probably causing a few dozen tellywizion viewers to feel faint. They were quite fit, Harry admitted. Brendan had short dark brown hair and Nigel was blond, although with a hint of strawberry rather than Malfoy's platinum.

"Very well!" Lee said, turning to the participants, his voice still amplified by the Sonorous Charm. "As you know, your wands have been taken and held by our staff for safekeeping, although they will be returned to you for certain challenges. However, you are required to get to your first destination without benefit of spellcasting."

The challengers looked uncertainly at one another and Harry wondered how many of them were Muggleborn. The pure-bloods, such as Malfoy, would be at a disadvantage without magic.

"Additionally, each team will have a Watcherbee that will be recording your every movement for the viewers at home, and to alert the staff in the event of cheating." He gestured to small, floating blue orbs that hovered over each team. Lee looked positively giddy when he announced, "Your first challenge will be to dive into the Thames and swim out to that boat anchored in the centre." Harry's gaze went to the middle of the river, where a large metal-hulled boat bobbed. It looked like an abandoned Muggle military cruiser.

"Your first clue is on that boat!" Lee continued. "When you find it, you will need to swim to shore on the other side of the river and make your way to the International Portkey Building. From there, you will Portkey to the designated destination and look for your next clue. At the sound of the gong, the race will begin."

"Fuck," Malfoy muttered. "We actually have to dive into that revolting water?"

Harry secretly agreed, but when a loud gonging noise rang out, he didn't hesitate, instead pelting toward the riverbank and hurling himself into the murky water without waiting to see if Malfoy followed.

When Harry surfaced, he took a deep breath and began to swim, glancing both left and right. To his left was one of the burly women, Flora, by the glare, and slightly ahead of him on the right was the dark-haired dragon tamer, Brendan.

Harry swam faster, his competitive instincts kicking in despite his earlier words regarding losing the first challenge. Maybe we won't lose too soon, he thought as he cut through the water, cursing the weight of his Auror robes. He was glad his glasses were fixed in place with a non-irritating Sticking Charm, plus he had remembered to cast an Impervious Charm to repel water.

Flora actually pulled ahead, her Capri-style Muggle sweatpants providing less resistance in the water than Harry's robes and Brendan's dragonhide boots. Panting heavily, Harry reached the boat, which had been draped with a selection of rope ladders.

Flora was halfway up when her foot slipped on a rung and sent her plunging back into the drink. Brendan was just ahead of Harry, climbing fast. Harry kept his feet planted in the centre of each rung and pulled himself up carefully before levering himself over the railing and onto the deck. He risked a glance back at the river to find Malfoy just reaching out for the ladder Harry had climbed. Harry gave him a grin and turned around, ignoring the rest of the competitors.

Brendan was wrenching at a hatch, into which he disappeared. Harry raced over and leaped down the metal steps behind him, nearly bowling him over at the bottom.

"I'm going this way," Brendan said and ran down the rust-streaked corridor. Harry hesitated, heard footsteps on the steps above him, and hurried in the opposite direction, not wanting to be crushed by a determined Flora. Several metal doors opened off the corridor and Harry tugged open the first one, wondering where the hell they would have hidden the clues, and what they were even searching for.

He was checking the fourth tiny room when someone jostled him and he turned to see one of the bouncy girls smiling at him. Her brunette hair was dripping wet and her sodden clothing left little to the imagination. "Hi, Auror Potter," she said in a voice that seemed a trifle seductive.

Harry blushed. "Hello."

"You obviously checked back there already. I'll help you search. Maybe we can make an alliance."

As Harry considered how best to turn her down, someone bellowed his name.

"Potter! Get your arse up here!"

"Partner," he said with an apologetic smile. "See you later, um...?"

"Kimmy," she finished.

"Bye, Kimmy," Harry said and ran back toward the exit hatch. Malfoy was standing at the top, holding a fuchsia and black envelope. The clue! Harry took the steps two at a time and grinned at Malfoy. "Where did you find it?"

Shouts rang out around them.

"The control room, obviously. Where else would it be?" Malfoy tucked the envelope away in his robes and hurried toward the opposite railing. "Let's go."

Harry admired the vision Malfoy made as he dove into the water, but nearby movement speared him on. Virginia was waving a fuchsia envelope at Norton, who had just made it over the first railing, panting hard. Harry hoped Norton wouldn't have heart failure before the first challenge ended.

Assuming the staff would be watching for medical emergencies via the Watcherbees, although the one assigned to his team seemed to be following Malfoy, Harry dove into the water.



"And it's the Auror team of Harry and Draco first into the water after finding their initial clue!" Lee Jordan's voice boomed out and the image onscreen disclosed Harry joining Malfoy in the river, closely followed by the older couple and then the dragon tamers.

"Yeah! Go, Harry!" Ron shouted.

"You notice Malfoy was the first one to the clue?" Neville asked.

"Lucky guess," Ron grumbled.

"He got high marks in Arithmancy," Hermione pointed out.

"Whose side are you on?"

"Harry's, and since Draco is his partner, we have to cheer for them both."

Ron sighed explosively and shrugged. "I guess. But I'm only cheering to keep him from dragging Harry down with him. Go, Harry!"



Harry climbed out of the river, following his wet partner. Malfoy set off at a jog and thrust the envelope at Harry. It had obviously been spelled to resist water, since it was dry when Harry opened it up.

"It says we have to Portkey to Arizona, United States. Where the hell is that?"

Harry struggled to keep up, winded from the swim and feeling every ounce of his wet robes. Footsteps pounded along behind them, but he didn't bother to look back and see which of their competitors followed.

"I dunno, somewhere by California. What do we do when we get there?" Harry tried not to admire the way Malfoy ran, but some people were clumsy runners and others were grace personified. Malfoy's running style resembled that of a cheetah, effortless-looking and ground-eating. Harry felt like a stampeding warthog next to him.

"Look for the next clue, obviously."

It was too bad Malfoy was a git.

Despite their heavy, wet robes, they reached the International Portkey office first. It didn't hurt that they knew precisely where it was, even when having to navigate Muggle backstreets to get there. The few Muggles they dodged stared after them in surprise, but probably just as much due to the running as their strange clothing.

They raced into the building and Malfoy halted at the board to scan for the proper room. "USA, USA," he muttered.

"There!" Harry said. "Fourth floor!"

They took the stairs to the fourth storey and found only a short line to purchase tickets for US destinations.

"You have the cash, Potter?"

Harry nodded and opened his wet pouch. They had been provided with enough Galleons to see them through the first leg of the race, if they were frugal. Several people stared at them and Harry tried to ignore the fact that they were dripping wet and smelled of river water.

"Two Portkeys to Phoenix," Malfoy demanded when they reached the counter. Harry heard running footsteps and turned to see the dragon tamers entering the back of the line. He wondered if the others would catch up before the first Portkey activated, which would be in -- he glanced at the clock on the wall -- ten minutes.

With tickets purchased, Harry and Malfoy joined the group standing next to what appeared to be a red handrail. Several people were already touching it. Harry watched as Brendan and Nigel purchased their passes and rushed over.

Nigel grinned at Harry. "Made it."

Harry nodded and smiled back. He stuck out his hand. "I'm Harry Potter."

Nigel's smile widened and he took Harry's hand. "I know."

Behind Harry, Malfoy snorted. "Everyone knows."

One of the tea shop girls was the next to arrive. She jostled a couple of protesting people out of line, but they said nothing when she glared them down.

"Portkey 28 now departing for the United States of America, arriving in Boston, Dallas, Phoenix, and San Diego. Please place your right hand on the red railing now and do not let go." The attendant's friendly voice was loud and clear.

Harry turned around and put his hand on the railing. He faced Malfoy's back and watched as a water droplet shook free from Malfoy's pale hair and dripped onto his Auror robe.

"Portkey 28 will depart in five... four... three... two... one..."

Harry felt a familiar wrench and the swirling sensation seemed to last forever. Cross-Atlantic Portkey travel was never fun.

Several people staggered when the Portkey appeared in a circular grey room ringed with travellers. "We have arrived in Boston, Massachusetts, USA. If this is your destination, please depart through the green archway. If you plan to continue on to Dallas, Phoenix, or San Diego, please remain where you are."

Three people staggered toward the green archway and four others joined their group.

"This is so cool!" Nigel said behind Harry. "I've never been out of Europe!"

They appeared in Dallas in what looked like an underground cavern and from there jumped one last time to Phoenix. The Portkey Terminal was enormous and white, with a high overhead ceiling festooned with skylights. Two Watcherbees suddenly winked into existence and floated closer. Apparently the spells took some time to reorient after their subjects' Portkeyed.

Harry, Draco, and the dragon tamers left the Portkey group and filed into another room, as instructed. Floor-to-ceiling windows gave them a view of a bright blue sky and greyish tarmac covered with Muggle airplanes. As Harry watched, a speeding plane left the ground and shot into the sky.

"Wow!" exclaimed Nigel as he rushed to the window to watch it.

Brendan chuckled. "He doesn't get out much."

Malfoy was already at the desk where a perky girl in a blue t-shirt and Muggle jeans smiled at him. "Welcome to Phoenix. Do you need assistance with travel arrangements or accommodations?" she asked.

"Travel," Malfoy replied. "We need to get to the Great Canyon."

She frowned. "The Great Canyon? Do you mean the Grand Canyon?"

"Great, Grand, whichever. We need to get there as fast as possible. Is there a Floo Network here?"

She blinked at him. "A what?"

Brendan said, "They don't have a Floo Network in the United States. There aren't enough large fireplaces."

The girl burst out laughing. "Fireplaces? In Phoenix? Oh honey, you are from another country aren't you?"

Malfoy sighed. "Then how do you get from place to place without Apparition? Do you have brooms for rent?"

She shook her head. "You don't want to fly to the Grand Canyon. You'd be burnt to a crisp. It's a hundred and fourteen degrees out there today."

"One hundred and fourteen what?"

"Degrees, Malfoy," Harry said. "That's um... about 45 Celsius."

Malfoy looked horrified. The girl nodded. "Honestly, the best transportation is Muggle. The cars all have air conditioning, as do the buses and cabs."

"Cars," Harry repeated. He looked at the dragon tamers. "Can either of you drive?"

Brendan and Nigel shook their heads. Harry sighed. It was a certainty that Malfoy couldn't; and Harry had never learned. "I suppose we've no choice. Where do find a Muggle bus?"

The girl pointed. "Go through that door there and walk to the small building across the way. Don't worry about being spotted by Muggles -- there're Charms up to prevent that. Opal can help you once you get there."

"Thank you," Harry said and the four of them headed for the indicated exit. A wave of heat hit them the moment the door opened and the brightness was blinding. Harry lifted a hand to shade his eyes. It was hard to breathe -- the air seemed to bake his lungs.

"This is crazy," Nigel said. "How can people live here?"

Malfoy had already set off across the blistering pavement to a nondescript white building a short distance away. The heat was oppressive and Harry unbuttoned his Auror robes halfway to their destination. Warmth radiated upward and when Harry glanced out toward a Muggle plane taxiing away from the terminal, heat waves made it ripple in his vision.

Malfoy reached the door and gripped the metal handle before snatching his hand away with a yelp.

"What is it?" Harry asked, concerned.

"It's bloody scalding!" Malfoy snapped. He lifted a corner of his robe and used it to turn the handle and open the door. A bell-like chime sounded. Cool air rushed out and bathed them in a welcome chill. They all hurried inside to escape the heat.

"Hello!" called a girl who entered from a doorway just beyond a nondescript countertop. "Do you need ground transportation?" She had short, spiky brown hair, bleached blond at the tips. A name tag pinned to her t-shirt read OPAL.

Harry nodded. "We need to get to the Grand Canyon."

"Oh, tourists, then? You'll want to get out of those robes, I think. We have a large selection of Muggle-wear that's more suited to the weather here." She gestured to one wall, which was filled to the ceiling with Muggle items. Nigel hurried over to examine them while Brendan stayed near Harry. Opal continued, "Do you need a rental car, taxi, limousine, or bus?"

After haggling over prices and reviewing their limited funds, it was decided that a Muggle bus would be their best option. A cab was too expensive and a limousine was outrageous. Harry exchanged some Galleons for Muggle money -- dollars, which was perplexing even to Harry -- and then purchased some clothing to keep from roasting in the Arizona sun. Harry purchased a backpack into which he stuffed his and Malfoy's Auror robes, wishing he had his wand in order to shrink them down.

Harry was first out of the dressing room with his new Muggle attire. He felt very exposed, but the expression on Opal's face was openly approving. He was sure he would be glad for his bare legs and arms once they returned to the oppressive heat outside the building.

Nigel was next out and he stared at Harry in a way that reminded him uncomfortably of Opal's expression. Harry's attention shifted away from Nigel immediately when a curtain was thrust aside and Malfoy stepped out. His face was like a thundercloud.

"You can't be serious," he snapped, the very picture of pure-blooded rage.

Harry stared. He couldn't help it. Malfoy wore a black shirt of some stretchy material that hugged his every curve. The letters ADIDAS were emblazoned in white across one pectoral muscle. Harry willed his gaze not to travel lower, but it disobeyed, sliding down nearly-visible abdominals to Malfoy's hips and thighs, displayed prominently -- along with a not-insubstantial package -- beneath the clinging shorts that seemed painted to his flesh. His knees and calves were bare and he wore white trainers with purple lettering. Malfoy looked surprisingly sexy in Muggle gear. Not sexy, Harry revised quickly. Passable. Just passable. Fuck.

"Oh, you look simply gorgeous!" Opal said, openly gushing at Malfoy. Harry suddenly found her annoying.

"All right," Harry said. "We need to get out of here before the others arrive. Where do we find this Muggle bus?"

Opal gestured toward another door. "Go through there and follow the yellow line back to the terminal. The bus stop is clearly marked. You'll have to purchase your tickets at the kiosk. Enjoy your visit to the Grand Canyon!"

Harry shouldered the backpack and grinned at Malfoy. "Come on, we may as well get this over with."

The door they had entered through opened to disclose several other competitors: Allyn and Jessyka, Kimmy and Lisa, and Edna and Flora. Harry wondered where Rita Skeeter and her evil partner had gone. Probably stayed behind to sabotage Virginia and Norton. Harry and the others didn't wait around to exchange greetings. They pushed through the door and back into the oven-like heat where they jogged across the hot tarmac to the welcome shade of a concrete overhang. GREYHOUND read a large sign.

Harry and Brendan purchased tickets. Apparently they could only travel as far as Flagstaff before they needed to transfer to another bus destined for the Grand Canyon. Harry was horrified to discover that the journey would take several hours. The thought of being trapped on a bus with Draco Malfoy and a large quantity of Muggles nearly made Harry turn around and throw the race.

Only the determined expression on Malfoy's face kept him moving.



"I hate Muggles," Draco said just to see Potter's lips tighten ever so slightly. The game never got old, despite the fact that he had used the words so many times in the past few hours that he'd lost count. They were also true, at least in reference to the occupants of the Greyhound bus currently bound for Flagstaff. Honestly, it was as though the Muggles were trying to encourage Draco's hatred.

First there was the Loud Couple. They had been happily chattering the whole trip to each other and to everyone around them, babbling inanely about how barren Arizona was and asking how could anyone possibly live here -- a sentiment Draco agreed with, but he had grown bored with the topic after the first eight minutes. The Loud Couple did not. Some of the Arizona residents were glaring at them distastefully and Draco hoped one of them would snap and shout at the couple or, even better, throw something heavy at them. Like a hardbound book.

Next there was Snoring Man, who had fallen asleep immediately upon reaching his seat and quickly began to snore like a foghorn. Draco had surreptitiously awakened him twelve times by kicking the back of his seat, despite Potter's admonishments. The quiet never lasted for long. If only Draco had his wand; he would silence the cretin permanently.

His fingers itched for his wand. It was beyond cruelty to take away their magic in order to win a stupid race. Draco said as much to Potter.

"Malfoy, if you tell me how much you hate Muggles or how much you hate this race or the heat or your Muggle clothes or the quality of the air or anything else, I am going to hit you."

"I hate you, Potter," Draco said mildly, calling his bluff. Potter would never hit him in a bus full of Muggles; that much Draco knew.

Potter's green eyes flashed. "You are such a fucking prat."

Draco tsked. "Potter, language. There are children present. Not to mention your public." Draco nodded toward the Watcherbee, which had attached itself to the roof of the bus in a nondescript location, looking like a small, purposeless light fixture.

At the word "children" Potter actually glanced over his shoulder with a guilty start. The little angels in the seat behind him had obviously heard him.

"HE SAID A BAD WORD! DID YOU HEAR HIM, MOM?"

"MOM! MOM! THAT MAN SAID A BAD WORD. DID YOU HEAR, MOM?"

Despite the fact that their mother could not, in fact, hear them, the children carried on, growing louder and louder until she snarled at them to sit down and shut up. Delightful woman. Potter said she had headphones in her ears that prevented her hearing her progenies' constant and annoying pleas for attention. Potter had also mentioned he wanted a pair for himself to drown out Draco's "whinging".

"Remind me to congratulate their mother when we exit this hellish conveyance, Potter."

His partner heaved a long-suffering sigh and lifted two fingers to rub the bridge of his nose, bumping his glasses up a bit. "Why?"

"Her offspring have singlehandedly destroyed my desire to ever procreate. The Malfoy line can die."

Potter's gaze turned amused. Frankly, Draco liked to amuse Potter even more than he liked to irritate him, although he would take that secret to his grave. It was difficult, however, and most of the time seemed accidental. He liked the way Potter's right eyebrow would twitch, wrinkling his famous scar, and the lines at the corners of his mouth would deepen into an almost-smile.

"Don't you think you're overreacting? They're just kids."

Draco sneered. Those "just kids" had tormented Draco far worse than Snoring Man and the Loud Couple. The little brats had stood on the seats, fought with each other, whined constantly, spilled juice and crisps all over the place, made frequent trips to the loo at the back of the bus, and generally behaved like caged monkeys.

"When I was a child, I did as I was told, sat quietly in my chair, and read a book," Draco said, glaring balefully at the boy child, who stuck his tongue out at Draco and then began a mock war with two plastic dinosaurs gripped in his fists, complete with loud roars and crunching sounds. Draco rolled his eyes and looked away.

For some reason, Potter was giving him a sympathetic look. He did that frequently and it annoyed Draco almost as much as the look Nigel the dragon-tamer was giving to Potter.

"I think your fanboy wants something," Draco said mildly. Draco had taken a window seat in order to look out at the endlessly boring landscape of dull weeds and saguaro cacti. Potter sat next to Draco and an empty seat next to Potter held the knapsack with their Auror robes, maps, and assorted other race-related items. Across the narrow aisle sat Nigel and Brendan. Nigel frequently leaned across the open space to chat with Potter, much to Draco's annoyance. Draco had often wondered about Potter's sexual proclivities since becoming his partner, especially after the infamous Potter/Weasley breakup, which had occurred when Fireball Weasley (or so she had been dubbed by the press) had given Potter the boot in a very public tirade outside of Fortescue's in Diagon Alley.

Since then, Potter had rarely been seen in the company of another female, unless one counted Luna Lovegood, and Draco did not. She was Potter's companion to all Ministry-endorsed events and Draco had never seen as much as a romantic glance between them. Rumour had it that Lovegood liked older men and was only using Potter to get closer to Minister Edgemont. Granted, Draco had started that rumour, but still, it seemed logical.

Nigel had picked up some tourist brochures at the bus depot and persisted in asking Potter inane questions, as though Potter had some special knowledge of the Anasazi and why they had abandoned the area. Obviously they had wised up and gone somewhere less arid and death-inducing. Nigel's earnest face beamed at Potter. Honestly, the hero worship was already getting old. Draco would have to remind Potter that Nigel was their competition and therefore, the enemy. Brendan was asleep with his head propped against his balled-up jacket. It was too bad Nigel didn't follow his partner's example.

"Potter," Draco snapped to draw his attention back where it belonged. "I'm thirsty."

Potter sighed and left off chatting with his fanboy in order to dig a bottle of water from the knapsack and hand it to Draco.

"It's warm," Draco complained, wrinkling his nose.

Potter's jaw clenched and Draco regretted not keeping a tally of how many times he caused that to happen. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but we don't have access to either Cooling Charms or ice to soothe your abused palate. Deal with it."

Draco rolled his eyes and took a drink, mentally congratulating himself. If not for the heat and the Muggles and the lack of magic, he might actually consider this journey to be entertaining.



"Where are they?" Ron asked, sprawling on the sofa with a freshly opened Butterbeer.

"Bright Angel Point, Grand Canyon, Arizona," Hermione said.

"Looks rough," Ron said.

"They have to ride mules to the bottom of the canyon," Neville said. "Harry and Draco are in the lead, followed by the dragon tamers. It's not much of a race at the moment. Look how slowly those mules walk."

Ron laughed. "I can only imagine how much Malfoy is complaining. I'm surprised Harry hasn't thrown the match."



Mules should perish in Fiendfyre, Draco decided. All of them. They were dirty, smelly, hateful, slow, and most likely infested with all manner of vermin. Draco felt itchy just thinking about it. He scratched absently at his ribcage and hoped there wasn't really an insect there. Also, Muggle shorts were not made for mule riding. The insides of his knees had been rubbed nearly raw by the bloody saddle leather before Potter had pulled off the trail and arranged Draco's Auror robe beneath his legs, much to the blushing chagrin of them both. Thankfully, Potter had said nothing.

The heat was prodigious. Only the areas of shade as they hugged the wall of the wretched canyon made the trip bearable. Well, that and Potter's attitude of unshakeable awe, although Draco would never admit to that.

"This is amazing," Potter kept saying, peering around like a child on his first visit to Honeydukes. "I just can't believe that tiny river down there carved this whole canyon. And look at all the colours!"

Draco was largely immune to the canyon's charm. It was a bloody hole in the ground, for Salazar's sake. A hot, dusty, rock-filled hole.

The ride down seemed to take eternity and Draco's muscles protested with every jolt. Even though he was Auror-fit, apparently the parts of his body required for mule-riding had been under-utilized. The Watcherbees were discreet, since they were with a group of Muggle tourists. Draco tried to spot them, but only once saw one nestled against a sharp edge of rock, trying to blend in to the surrounding desert.

Reaching the river was anti-climactic, although the air temperature was slightly cooler from a gentle breeze wafting over the sluggish, muddy liquid. Draco expected Potter to make some sort of giddy comment about the damned river, but for once he was quiet. Draco hoped Potter was feeling the effects of the hours-long ride as much as he was. Even Nigel had stopped babbling somewhere around the ninety-seventh hairpin turn in the path.

Thankfully, it wasn't far beyond the bridge, relatively, that they finally reached their destination. It looked like a number of random shacks to Draco, but Potter and Nigel started up the admiration party, exclaiming about the beauty of the trees and the picturesque quality of the cabins and the oh-so-charming location. Draco just wanted to get as far away from the bloody mules as possible, eat a solid meal, and go to sleep. He doubted it would be that simple. He was right.



"Harry and Draco, and Brendan and Nigel have reached the Phantom Ranch first! They look exhausted, don't they? I don't think travelling like Muggles agrees with them. Brendan has spotted the box holding the next clue!"

"Malfoy looks like he's ready to hex someone," Neville commented.

"Doesn't he always look that way?" Ron replied dryly.

Hermione shushed them as Lee's face filled the screen. "The clue says SINK OR SWIM. The participants have to choose between two challenges! In SINK, they need to travel to this set of waterfalls." The view changed to show three roaring waterfalls gushing over reddish-coloured rocks and spilling into small pools. "They have to climb to the uppermost pool, dive to the bottom, and retrieve a metal chest. Since they can't use magic, it will require the combined strength of both partners to bring it to the surface!"

"Piece of cake!" Ron cried.

"That pool doesn't look easy to get to," Hermione said in a worried tone. "There isn't much clearance to get past those steep rock walls. They could fall into a pool and get swept down the falls."

The SWIM challenge involved swimming across the Colorado River and retrieving another metal box from the branches of a tree. Harry and Draco opted for diving into the pool while Brendan and Nigel chose to swim.



Harry was exhausted. Despite the fact that they had been sitting for most of the journey, either on a Muggle bus or on mule-back, it had still been quite stressful and draining. The heat did not help at all. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into a soft bed and sleep for a week.

By the angry set of Malfoy's lips, his partner felt the same. "Let's get this over with," Malfoy said flatly. Harry was a bit worried about him, frankly. They had both purchased hats prior to setting out into the canyon, but the headgear had done nothing to shield their exposed skin from the glaring rays of the sun. Malfoy's arms and legs were pink and beginning to darken into red. Harry fared only slightly better, as his natural pigmentation was only a bit darker. By evening, he knew the sunburn would be agonizing.

The rocks that bordered the waterfalls were slippery and most of the natural handholds had been worn away by the erosive quality of the water. Malfoy stayed close behind Harry and twice pushed him strategically back toward the wall when he slipped. Either Malfoy was more naturally surefooted or he simply learned from Harry's mistakes and used different hand and footholds, for he never made any missteps.

The shadows were lengthening when they finally reached the pool, soaking wet from the billowing mist, and panting with exertion.

"How deep do you suppose it is?" Harry asked as he shucked his hat and took off his backpack.

"Only one way to find out," Malfoy replied and pushed him in.

Harry sputtered his way to the surface and spat water out of his mouth. "You bastard!" he yelled. "I don't even have my shoes off!"

Malfoy laughed and then smiled at the Watcherbee, which hovered next to his shoulder. "How's the water?"

"Freezing, damn you!" Harry yanked off one shoe and threw it at Malfoy, who deflected it with a lazy swipe of his arm. The other quickly followed and he glared at Malfoy as his annoying partner pulled the black shirt over his head and draped it carefully over a rock.

"Can you see the chest?" Malfoy asked.

Harry filled his lungs and then plunged beneath the water, pulling himself downward. Thankfully, the pool wasn't terribly deep, only about ten feet or so. A metal box rested on the rocky bottom. Harry swam down and tried to lift it, but it only managed to lift one side before releasing it and returning to the surface.

"It's there," he said when he'd caught his breath. He nearly lost it again at the sight of Malfoy, clad only in the black Muggle shorts and standing at the edge of the pool. "It will definitely take both of us to bring it up."

Malfoy nodded and he stepped off the edge near Harry, spraying him with a large splash of water. The blond head appeared next to him after a moment. "Bracing," was all Malfoy said.

Without another word, they both dove. Wrestling the heavy chest to the surface turned out to be more difficult than imagined. They could only heft it partway up before running out of air, which forced them to let it go and paddle upward to reach precious oxygen. After two attempts, Malfoy suggested they look for a ledge to rest it on at the halfway point. Two more dives allowed them to locate a likely spot and they lifted the chest onto the ledge before returning for air.

"I'd kill for my wand," Malfoy said, gasping.

Harry only nodded. The task would have taken moments with a Bubble Head Charm and a Levitation Spell. Not for the first time, he blessed the existence of magic.

They dove once more and finally shoved the menacing chest onto the rocks. Harry barely had the strength to pull himself from the water. Surprisingly, Malfoy took his proffered hand and allowed him to drag him free of the pool. They sprawled next to the box for a moment, catching their breath, and then Harry flipped the latch and opened it.

A small black and fuchsia envelope rested at the bottom. Draco opened it up and pulled out a Muggle postcard. SEE THE GRAND CANYON! was written in bright yellow letters across a photo of striated rocks. Malfoy snorted and turned it over. Harry leaned close to read the writing.

This postcard is a Portkey. It will activate two minutes after the first touch of a human hand. Hold tightly.

Harry gripped one corner of the device and Malfoy held the other. Time seemed to tick away endlessly, broken only by the rushing noise of the water and the sound of their laboured breathing. "Shit! Our things!" Harry cried suddenly. He let go and ran to snatch up their discarded items -- his backpack and shoes, Malfoy's clothing, footwear, and hats, and raced back just as Malfoy reached out to snatch his wrist and press the card against his skin.

They spun away.



Draco felt nauseated. Travelling by Portkey, on top of near-heatstroke, followed by submersion in cold water sent him staggering against Potter, who braced himself to keep them from falling.

"Congratulations, Harry and Draco!" Lee Jordan's voice was loud and made a headache begin a terrific pounding somewhere near Draco's right eardrum. "You are the first team to finish the challenge!"

"Of course we are," Draco managed and pushed himself away from Potter, aware that they were still being recorded. He stood upright and pretended that he wasn't dripping wet and wearing only clingy Muggle shorts.

"As the winners of this challenge, you have both won First Edition Nimbus Thunderbolts! You are also safe from elimination this round. As an additional reward, you have been granted use of the largest cabin here at Phantom Ranch, plus you'll have a private meal instead of eating in the common area with the Muggles and the other competitors. Congratulations, boys, and we'll see you in the morning!"

With that, Lee and his small entourage exited the cabin and Draco sagged into the nearest chair. Which could only be considered a chair because it was chair-shaped. It was made of rough-hewn wood and looked as though a six-year-old had put it together.

"This is the largest cabin?" Potter asked, looking around at their accommodations. He remained in the centre of the room holding their belongings. Aside from the "chair" Draco sat in, there was a small, filthy-looking table, a washstand with a basin and pitcher, a shelf containing four battered-looking books, and two small beds stacked one atop the other. A twin to the chair Draco used rested against the wall near the beds. A metal-vented box covered the lower half of one window, blowing cold air into the room; Draco approved of that device, at any rate, even though he was quickly becoming chilled in his still-damp shorts. He wondered how to ask Potter to return his shirt.

"Those are both beds, yes?" Draco asked perplexed.

Potter nodded. "Bunk beds. I call top!"

Draco blinked at him, the word conjuring images he did not need at the moment, with Potter's sodden clothing clinging to every curve and his dark hair just beginning to curl as it dried. Thankfully, Potter didn't seem to notice Draco's silence as he walked over and tossed the knapsack onto the upper bunk. He threw Draco's shirt, hat, and shoes onto the lower bed and dropped his own wet shoes onto the ground. "I hope those dry by tomorrow," he said and gave Draco a pointed look.

Draco was about to retort when the door swung open and a handful of people entered bearing covered plates of food, which they placed on the table. "Enjoy your meal, folks," one older woman said before they all tromped out again. Despite Draco's desire to sneer at Muggle food, it smelled divine. He was famished.

"What is it?" Potter asked.

"A couple of huge slabs of meat. I assume it's beef. Large jacket potatoes. Salad. And what is this yellow thing?"

Potter wandered over to peer over his shoulder. "Corn on the cob. You've never seen corn on the cob?"

"Should I have?"

"I don't know. It's good."

Draco decided he would take Potter's word for it. He moved his chair closer to the table and picked up a knife in order to slice open a potato and drop a dollop of butter on top. A knock sounded at the door as Draco mashed the melting butter into the fluffy whiteness.

"Come in," Potter said as he walked to grab the other chair and drag it to the table.

A lanky teenaged boy stood in the doorway. "Misters Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes," Potter said.

"I've brought this, along with a reminder not to leave this cabin until morning." He held out a long, thin box. Potter took it and thanked him.

The boy grinned and clenched his hands together in what seemed a nervous gesture. "This is so exciting. I'm a big fan, sir."

"Your food is getting cold, Potter," Draco said loudly.

The boy coughed at Draco's glare and backed out of the entrance. "I'll just be going. Goodnight, sirs!"

Potter threw Draco a disgruntled look, but Draco ignored it to ask, "What's in the box?"

"Our wands!"

Draco stood up so quickly his chair nearly tipped over. "Thank god! Give me that!" He snatched his wand and immediately cast a Drying Charm on his clothing before conjuring a hairbrush and hurrying to the mirror over the washbasin in order to fix his hair.

Potter sat down at the table and cut open his own potato. Their eyes met in the mirror and Potter smirked. "Unbelievable. You worry about how your hair looks over eating a decent meal."

Draco only sneered absently at him and cast several drying and conditioning Charms on his hair before returning to the table. The butter had melted all over his jacket potato and oozed onto the plate to mingle with the steak juices. Draco's mouth watered. He sat down and stabbed his fork into the buttery mass before raising it to his mouth and closing his lips around it. The flavour was blissful and he made a noise of pure ecstasy.

He opened his eyes as he chewed to find Potter staring at him with jaw agape. Draco swallowed and frowned. "What is it, Potter? I have eaten Muggle food before."

Potter looked away and shook his head. "Nothing." Potter's knife sliced off a bite of steak and Draco watched as Potter placed it into his mouth. Dark lashes fell shut over green eyes and Potter made a heartfelt sigh of pleasure that made Draco sit up with a jolt. He imagined that sound out of context and had to take a gulp of water to hide his sudden flush.

He noticed that Potter was completely dry, even though Draco hadn't heard him cast any Charms. The bastard was getting far too complacent about using nonverbal spells. It was so bloody easy for him. Draco envied him.

A bottle of wine had been provided with dinner. Draco spelled out the cork, poured a glass, and looked askance at Potter, who shook his head.

"I'm already tired. That would put me right to sleep."

Draco shrugged and poured him a glass, anyway. "We have nothing to stay up for."

"Point. Do you want me to heal your sunburn?" Potter gestured toward Draco with his fork. Only then did Draco realize his skin was tingling with redness. The swim combined with the cooler air of the cabin had made it less noticeable.

Draco paused, but then nodded. Potter started to get up, but Draco shook his head and gave him an almost-fond smile. "Eat first, idiot. It can wait."

Potter shrugged and dove back into his food. They ate amid a silence that was only slightly awkward. Draco thought of several questions to ask, but discarded them, since most of them revolved around Potter's new fanboy, Nigel. Draco was pleased that Brendan and his sidekick had chosen a different task.

When they finished eating, Potter rose and walked around the table while Draco scooted his chair out to give Potter access. Potter crouched and touched his fingers lightly to Draco's reddened kneecap. He winced -- even the light touch was painful.

"Sorry," said Potter. "This might sting a bit."

Sting? Before Draco could protest, Potter cast a spell and a tingling rush wafted over Draco's legs. When the sensation faded, the tight, burning sensation was gone, replaced by a soothing ache.

"Better?" Potter asked, cocking a brow.

Draco nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Potter was terribly attractive when he was being heroic, even if that heroism was limited to saving Draco from the effects of solar damage. Potter stood and did the same for Draco's arms and the back of his neck. Draco thought he felt Potter's fingertips brush his skin for a moment after casting the spell, but he convinced himself that he'd imagined it. Regardless, the air in the small cabin suddenly felt stifling.

Draco got to his feet and walked to the stacked beds. "We should... get some rest," he said.

A knock sounded at the door and Potter opened it to admit the serving staff, who whisked away the remains of their dinner and bid them goodnight. By the time they were gone, Draco had Transfigured his Muggle shorts into pyjama bottoms. He dragged back the sheets and crawled between them, wincing at the rough texture and casting an absent spell to eradicate any lingering vermin.

Potter used the ladder at the foot of the bed to climb onto the top bunk. Draco admired the flex of his legs as he passed and then braced himself with alarm as the entire bed shifted. He half-feared it would collapse as Potter settled his weight and began to move around, probably taking off the rest of his clothing and... Draco's mouth went dry. He wondered if Potter planned to sleep only in his pants. He shut his eyes tightly and smacked his head against the pillow, knowing he would have that image in mind for the rest of the night.

"G'night, Malfoy."

"Good night, Potter."



Harry woke the next morning to find Malfoy already dressed and seated at the table, which was covered in all of their assorted gear. Harry's empty knapsack lay on the floor. Harry sat up and rubbed at his hair before fumbling beneath his pillow for his glasses and wand.

"What are you doing?" he asked. Despite the rest, he still felt tired.

"Taking inventory. Since they sent us to blistering heat, it stands to reason they might have us go somewhere hellishly cold next. If they take our wands again, I would like to be prepared."

Harry swung his bare legs over the edge of his bunk and hunted around for his t-shirt. "What are you going to do? Transfigure your shorts into a parka?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes and then picked up the knapsack. He shoved items into it while Harry hopped off the bed and walked over to pick up his jeans before Malfoy could pack them.

"I'm trying to prepare for possibilities. Gloves, fire-starters, and extra socks, for one. Our Auror robes should be fine for warmth, as long as it isn't ridiculously cold, and I would hope they don't want to kill us," Malfoy said.

Harry tugged on his jeans and wondered why Malfoy's cheeks were pink. He frowned. "Did you get sunburn on your face? I thought your hat protected you..."

"No, I did not sunburn my face," Malfoy snapped. "Now pay attention."

A sharp rap sounded on the door. "Breakfast in ten minutes. You are both to meet in the mess hall."

"All right!" Harry yelled. He looked at Malfoy and then pulled a clean t-shirt over his head. This one was pale blue and had AUROR emblazoned across the front in gold. Malfoy looked cool and crisp in a white button-down and grey trousers. He must have Transfigured his clothing. "You ready?"

Malfoy nodded and got to his feet. "Let's go see who was eliminated."



"Last week's episode showed an impressive win by our Auror team as they navigated the canyon on mule-back, climbed slippery rocks over dangerous waterfalls, and used necessary teamwork to retrieve a heavy chest from a pool of water. Well done, boys!"

Ron and Neville cheered and clapped each other on the shoulder. Hermione shook her head fondly and smiled.

The contestants all stood before a majestic backdrop of striated red-coloured rock. Lee Jordan's voice dropped an octave. "On a sadder note, we had to say goodbye to Virginia and Norton. Unfortunately, poor Norton developed heat stroke on the way down the canyon. They gave it a good show, but this game is all about stamina, perseverance, and the will to win!"

The competitors cheered and raised their fists, with the exception of Harry, Draco, Edna, and Flora. Lee's enthusiasm was undimmed.

"With that in mind, are you ready for your next challenge?"

"Yes!" several of them roared.

"Very well! Your wands have all been removed in the interest of fairness. When you hear the whistle, you will all run to that pile of loose shale -- " Lee pointed at a sheer cliff face, at the bottom of which rested a huge outfall of rock. " -- and dig until you locate a stone imprinted with this symbol." He held up a piece of parchment that displayed a lion rampant holding a sword. "When found, you will grab your partner immediately, because the Portkey will activate shortly after being handled. Good luck to you all and..." A loud whistle sounded. "Go!"

The competitors ran for the cliff.

"I love this show," Ron said happily.



Draco held back and allowed Potter to do most of the digging. After all, he didn't have a professional manicure to ruin.

The tarts found the Portkey first, amid much squealing and hopping up and down. They linked hands with triumphant giggles and disappeared.

"Look faster, Potter! Check that one!" Draco pointed at a stone near Potter's foot.

"You could help, you know!" Potter snapped, picking up handfuls of rock and flipping them over in a mass.

Draco wrinkled his nose and weighed his options. It wasn't until the tearoom girls found their Portkey and whisked away in triumph that Draco flung himself down next to Potter and sifted through the dusty rocks.

Potter smirked. "Thanks for helping, Princess."

"Shut it, Potter."



"You've got to be kidding me," Draco said for the fourth time.

"God, Malfoy, will you knock it off? Now, when I pick you up, you'll have to hold on tightly -- ?"

"What do you mean, pick me up? I'll be picking you up, thank you very much!"

Potter's expression was half amusement and half annoyance. Draco was quite familiar with it by now. "Don't be stup... stubborn. Don't be stubborn."

Draco glared, giving Potter the ice treatment for almost -- almost -- using the "S" word. Draco hated to be called stupid, especially by the Boy Who Was Perfect.

"I'm not going to be the wife!" Draco said adamantly.

"But you're lighter than me!"

Draco glared at him. The challenge was idiotic. Utterly idiotic. They had been the fourth team to arrive in Finland, just before Potter's fanboy and his friend. After a quick search in a haystack for the next clue, they were told to perform the native sport of "wife carrying".

"Nevertheless, I will not be the girl. I can carry you."

Potter swore and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Remind me never to ask you to bottom."

"What was that, Potter?" Draco asked, hoping to make the prat repeat it, because obviously Draco had heard wrong.

"Nothing. Look, I outweigh you by a stone or more. It's only logical. You want to win, don't you?"

Draco looked at the course, pursing his lips. Muggles were stupid, they really were. Apparently it was actual sport in Finland for a man to hoist his wife and race as fast as possible over rough terrain, shallow pools, and across assorted obstacles. Kimmy and Lisa were struggling up a hill, covered in mud. They were so muddy it was hard to tell which one was blonde. The filth decided him.

"You'd better not drop me," Draco warned.

Potter looked relieved. "Come on, then."

Draco placed his hands on Potter's shoulders and then hopped up to wrap his legs around Potter's hips. It would have been far more erotic if Potter hadn't staggered and nearly sent them both down.

"Fuck! No more cauldron cakes for you!"

"Are you calling me fat?"

"Just... hold on and... you know, be quiet."

Draco glared, even though it was pointless because Potter couldn't see him. His partner's hands wrapped around Draco's thighs, holding him in place, and then they started off. The first obstacle was a maze of hay bales that had to be threaded, which Potter navigated easily. Next there was a slight downhill slope and the first real obstacle -- a shallow, muddy pond.

"Do not drop me," Draco warned.

"Stop tempting me," Potter retorted.

Draco held tightly until Potter croaked an admonition to stop choking him, so Draco relented a bit. Potter slogged through the pond, muscles straining at the mud that sucked at his feet. Draco knew his Auror boots would be filled with water when they exited, but it was lucky Potter had worn them. His trainers would have been pulled off and left in the mud, as apparently had happened to Edna, who laboured on barefoot, carrying Flora with barely a pause. The two burly women had powered past the perky girls like a steam train overtaking a bicycle.

"Think we can catch the tea shop girls?" Draco asked hopefully.

"Not a chance," Potter said, panting as he exited the pond. He bounced for a moment, shifting Draco higher on his back and got a firmer grip on his thighs.

"I could get used to this mode of transportation," Draco said and let go with one hand to wave it airily in their direction of travel. "Giddyup, mule."

"Can you just shut up?"

A flat track through a picturesque stand of trees was next and Potter jogged easily over the course. Draco was impressed at Potter's strength. The man had quite a pair of thighs. Of course, that led to other thoughts that Draco thought best left for later and not while his manly bits rested just over Potter's pert arse.

Thankfully, Potter's legs carried them abreast of Kimmy and Lisa and gave Draco something to focus on other than Potter's manliness.

"Hello, girls," Potter said cheerfully.

"Oh! Auror Potter!" The brunette's breath rasped in and out.

The blond glared at them. "Go faster, Kimmy! They are beating us!"

"That's easy for you to say!" Kimmy yelled. "I'm doing all the work!"

"Bye, girls!" Potter said and jogged faster, much to Draco's relief. He didn't care for the way the girls looked at Potter.

They next had to navigate a series of round black hoops that Potter called "tyres", which necessitated Potter shifting Draco's weight from side to side as he stepped into the centres.

Once that was completed, there was a slight downhill slope, which was probably a relief to Potter's aching legs, and then Draco spotted another team -- the rock band duo. To his alarm, they were waist-deep in water.

"Potter," Draco said uncertainly. It was obvious that his partner was tiring, and walking through water was not easy.

"It's okay," Potter said. "Just hold on."

Draco tightened his arms around Potter, careful not to choke him. Potter entered the water and Draco's feet quickly submerged. The water was tepid and would likely ruin his Italian loafers. He knew he shouldn't have worn them, but they were comfortable and his Auror boots were packed away in Potter's knapsack, should he need them.

The water lapped at Potter's waist and Draco's knees, but Potter powered through the liquid and actually overtook the band mates. Allin looked at them tiredly and Jessyka gave them thumbs up.

"Awesome moves, Potter," she said.

"You can do it," Potter said encouragingly.

"Fuck off, Hero Boy," Allin said and Draco chuckled.

"Oh, I like him," Draco decided aloud.

Potter stumbled and Draco yelped, tightening his arms and legs in preparation for a dunking. Potter huffed a laugh and said, "Try to remember who's carrying you."

"Prat," Draco said and considered biting him on the neck for his trickery, although that idea held a temptation all its own. And he really needed to stop thinking such thoughts about Potter, who was infinitely unsuitable even for a one-off. Thankfully, Potter slipped while escaping the pond and went down on one knee, sending Draco's thoughts skittering away from an unsuitable one-off with Potter before his body could react, because the heat pooling in his groin obviously had other ideas.

Potter regained his feet and started off, jaw set and probably waiting for Draco to comment.

The final obstacle was a series of hurdles that Potter had only to step over, but Draco knew his thighs were likely burning from exertion. Potter's back was wet with sweat and his hands on Draco's legs felt like hot irons. He ploughed on doggedly, crossing the three barriers and then trudging through the last section of torture -- a stretch of thick sand.

Draco could see the tea shop girls standing at the finish line. One of them waved happily while the other glowered over her mug of ale or butterbeer. A loud whistle went off when Potter crossed the invisible barrier and let go of Draco's legs. Draco moved away quickly, shaking his arms and walking around to ease the stiffness in his joints. Potter bent over and rested his hands on his knees, panting heavily.

"Nice work, Potter," Draco said.

Potter's dark head rose and he looked as though he would say something scathing, but Draco smiled at him sincerely and Potter's annoyed look faded. His lips twisted in a cautious return smile. "Thanks."



"That challenge is insane," Ron said, laughing as he watched the girls flounder through the last water obstacle. Rita Skeeter and her partner had passed them and were navigating the final obstacle, with Rita imperiously directing her frowning partner. The dragon tamers were catching up quickly, having lost prodigious time in the canyon searching for the Portkey.

"Harry and Draco did great, although I thought Harry was going to drop him a time or two," Hermione said.

"Yeah, on purpose," Neville added.

They watched as the final groups staggered over the finish line, with the exhausted Best Friends beating the dragon tamers by mere minutes. Lee Jordan's face filled the screen once more.

"This leg of the Incredible Race was not for elimination purposes," Lee told the competitors. "It was only to determine the handicap on your next challenge." Lee smirked and added, "I hope none of you are homophobic, because this game will test your boundaries, as you were advised before you signed up. Are you ready to face invasion of your personal space?"

The contestants looked at each other warily and only a few of them nodded.

Ron settled more comfortably into the cushions. "Oh, this ought to be good," he said.



Harry glanced sidelong at Malfoy and wondered what the hell Jordan meant by "invasion of personal space". He had already been far too close to Malfoy today. Only the gruelling nature of the challenge had kept him from thinking too much about Malfoy's strong legs clasped around him, or focussing on Malfoy's cock resting against the small of his back.

Fuck, Harry had been dangerously close to turned-on during the Wife Carry, especially whenever Malfoy's warm breath wafted against him or his annoying voice said something in those irritating but liquid tones. Harry didn't normally think of men as attractive, but when it came to Malfoy nothing ever made sense.

Lee beckoned them all into a large tent lined with pairs of tables covered in white cloth.

"Hello, competitors! In this challenge, you and your partner will test your ability to work well under very close conditions." Lee's voice was thick with amusement. "As you can see, there is a large bowl of blueberries on one of your paired tables. On the other table is a bucket atop a scale. Your challenge is to take the berries from the bowl and transfer them to your partner, who will then deposit them into the bucket. This will continue until a certain weight is reached."

Harry frowned. It seemed simple enough, but there had to be a catch.

"To make it more difficult, your hands will be bound behind your backs. That's right, boys and girls. You will have to transfer the berries using only your mouths."

Harry inhaled sharply and his eyes widened. He dared not look at Malfoy. The other contestants muttered amongst themselves, so he knew he wasn't the only one mortified.

Lee continued, "This is an elimination challenge, so if any of you feel unable to continue, you may withdraw now and spare your fellow competitors the need to swap saliva with one another. Anyone?"

Harry glanced at the bouncy girls, who were red-faced, but giggling, and then at the tea girls. They glowered, but their jaws were set in determined masks and they both shook their heads. The dragon tamers both shrugged.

"I love you, Gertrude," Rita Skeeter said in a simpering tone. "Will you swap saliva with me?"

"If it helps us beat these other losers, absolutely, Rita," Gertrude replied.

Harry finally switched his gaze to Malfoy, who looked bored. Harry raised a questioning brow and Malfoy only shrugged. Harry released a sigh of relief. If Malfoy planned to treat the challenge as any other unpleasant task, it should be fine.

"Very well, then. Decide who shall be the giver and who shall be the receiver and take your places. The winners of the Wife Carry challenge, lovely Edna and Flora, will receive no handicap. When your bucket of berries reaches two pounds, a flag will rise and reveal the whereabouts of the Victory Carpet. You will race to that location where I will be waiting to announce your standing."

Lee looked at Harry and Draco, who had chosen a set of tables. Draco had grabbed the one closest to the bowl of berries, which apparently made Harry the "receiver".

"Auror team, you were second place in the Wife Carry, so we have added a quarter-pound to your weight requirement. You will need to place two and a quarter pounds of berries into the bucket in order to raise your flag. Bandmates, you will need two and a half pounds, and so on." Lee turned to the dragon tamers, who looked already defeated. "This mean you, boys, as our losing team, will need to fill your bucket with three and a quarter pounds of berries. But fear not! This challenge is not as easy as it seems! It requires coordination and steady lips." Lee laughed aloud.

"Assistants, please bind our contestants."

Several fuchsia-clad witches hurried to cast Binding Charms on their wrists after each of them crossed their arms behind their backs. Harry tugged at his bonds experimentally. They held.

"Is everyone ready?" Lee waited for dissenting voices. When none were forthcoming, Lee yelled, "Go!" just as a loud chime sounded.

Malfoy leaned forward and took some berries into his mouth. He turned and Harry leaned toward him, opening his mouth to accept them. He tried not to consider the eroticism of the act, and ignored Malfoy's lips brushing against his own, as well as the wetness of the berries that was not all juice.

When Harry's mouth was full, he turned and spat them into the bucket, swinging back around to see Malfoy already bent over retrieving another mouthful. His lips were already stained blue and Harry figured his were, too. He grinned for a moment and then Malfoy's mouth was back on his and his tongue was shoving blueberries into Harry's mouth. When he deposited the berries, Harry risked a glance toward the other teams. The young girls were moving quickly and seemed to have a rhythm going.

Nigel and Brendan seemed awkward and bent toward each other with a huge span of distance between their feet. Harry wondered if he and Malfoy looked as odd. With that in mind, he stepped closer to Malfoy, who nearly bumped into him in surprise when he turned.

Harry leaned toward him, thinking the height difference was an advantage in this instance -- since Malfoy was just a bit taller and could utilize gravity to assist in pushing the berries into Harry's mouth.

Focus on the task, Harry admonished himself. And not on the fact that Malfoy was practically kissing him. Nor on the jolt he felt when Malfoy's tongue pushed over his lower lip and sent dangerous waves of heat careening through his blood.

Harry was so focussed on the task itself that he didn't notice when the flag went up, turning back to Malfoy and bumping into him in a near-daze. Malfoy's hands steadied him -- their bonds had released when the flag went up.

"Potter, get the clue. We're finished!"

Harry blinked at him and then glanced at the flag that had risen behind the full bucket. A clue envelope dangled from the end of the flag. Malfoy moved past him and snatched it before taking Harry's hand and dragging him from the tent at a jog, letting him go once they were outside.

Harry wiped at the berry juice on his chin, staining his arm. He had to look a fright. He glanced at Malfoy, whose eyes scanned the tree-laden hillside and then looked at the scrap of parchment in his hand.

"There!" he said. "The right hand path. Come on, the tea girls are ahead of us again!"

Malfoy's mouth and chin were purplish blue. He looked as though he had been badly beaten. Harry chuckled.

"Shut it, Potter. You don't look any better."

Harry's leg muscles burned as he tried to keep up with Malfoy. His earlier exertions were taking their toll. Thankfully, the incline continued only a short distance before a large wooden building appeared.

Lee Jordan stood on the covered overhang at the top of a flight of stairs. There were not many, only ten or so, but Harry groaned at the sight of them, uncertain if his thighs could take the strain of even so few steps. Carrying Malfoy had been more difficult than he would ever admit -- the blond might be willowy and slender, but he was still damned heavy.

Malfoy trotted easily up the stairs and Harry forced himself to follow, heaving a sigh of relief when the top one was reached. He stood on the carpet next to Malfoy and tried not to look at him as Lee smirked at them.



"Congratulations, Harry and Draco, you are the second team to complete the challenge. You are safe from elimination."

Ron cheered and slapped Neville on the shoulder. The blasted footage had been intense, showing the teams performing the challenge, but giving no hint of which team was winning until the tea shop girls had arrived at the carpet.

"I knew they could do it! Second place! That's not bad. They didn't win the Diagon Alley shopping spree, but at least Harry didn't have to kiss Malfoy for nothing."

"Ron, they weren't kissing." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Looked a lot like kissing to me," Neville said.

"I notice you couldn't take your eyes off the tarts kissing," Hermione replied. "Either of you."

Ron stabbed a finger in her direction. "Hey! I saw you ogling the dragon tamers!"

"I was not!" she protested, but her cheeks flamed.

Ron only gave her a smug look and turned back to the screen to watch Rita Skeeter and her evil partner come in third.

"Booooo!" Ron and Neville hissed at the screen. Hermione said nothing, which was as good as encouragement in Ron's book.



The building turned out to be a modernized Inn. Even though it was only early afternoon, they were finished with challenges for the day and would be free to enjoy the facilities, including a swimming pool and sauna. They could order food from the small cafŽ next door (using their precious supply of Galleons) or wait for a provided meal later in the day.

Draco was not hungry after ingesting the blueberries that he had nearly choked on a time or two, not to mention the juice that he could still taste.

The tea shop girls sat on a couple of sofas in the open common area. Lee Jordan was visible through the large windows and it was obvious the girls were waiting to see which participants were eliminated.

An assistant brought Potter a welcome-looking parcel. Potter tore it open and retrieved his wand before handing the box to Draco, who took it and pulled out his own wand before sprawling on a sofa upholstered in green and brown fabric that was liberally dotted with printed woodland creatures. He shuddered. A second assistant brought Potter the knapsack containing their assorted goods.

"Sit down, Potter," he said and patted the sofa seat.

"I need to clean up," Potter said.

The parcel also contained a single brass metal key with a round tag held on by a twist of wire. "Apparently we get to be roommates again," Draco said and dangled the key. "Room 27."

Potter glanced out the windows and scowled. Draco turned and caught sight of Rita Skeeter and Gertrude Acrimony standing before Lee Jordan.

"Damn," Draco muttered. "I was hoping they would be the next to go."

Potter nodded and sank down on the seat next to Draco, finally, just as Rita Skeeter and her crony entered, looking smug. Draco ignored them.

"You're a mess," Draco said and reached out to take Potter's chin in his hand. Potter jerked away with a glare, but Draco only frowned and grabbed him again. "Oh, hold still. You're still cute, just a bit too... blue."

"I -- what?"

"Hold still," Draco said and lifted his wand to point it at Potter's face.

The green eyes widened, but Potter did not move away. Draco concentrated and murmured a spell, erasing the bluish tint from Potter's mouth and chin.

"Hand me the mirror from the knapsack."

"There's a mirror?" Potter asked.

"Of course there's a mirror. Don't you know anything about survival? Were you asleep during all of our training classes?"

Potter scowled, but he obediently dug around until he found the mirror and handed it to Draco. The door opened, revealing the dragon tamers, fairly splattered with purple. Nigel raised a hand and smiled at Potter. Draco gnashed his teeth.

"Two teams left," Draco said and looked in the mirror. He cast the same spell on himself to return his complexion to its usual fair clarity and then looked to Potter for approval.

"Still beautiful," Potter said and rolled his eyes. Draco jabbed him in the abdomen with his wand tip. "Hey!" Potter rubbed the spot.

"A Galleon says Allin and Jessyka lose," Draco said in a stage whisper.

"What? No way, the girls had to transfer a lot more berries."

"Then it's a bet?" Draco asked.

"Yeah." Potter stuck out his hand and Draco took it.

"Holding hands, Potter? Did the last challenge turn you into a shirtlifter, or is it just the company?" Rita Skeeter's voice was strident and as smug as usual.

Potter released Draco's hand and glared at her.

"Hello, Draco," she said.

"Rita," Draco said noncommittally.

"I saw you cast that spell. Can you do me?" she asked. Her voice dipped into tones that could only be considered suggestive.

"Draco isn't your type," Potter snapped. "No carapace or antennae."

Draco glanced at Potter, surprised by Potter's use of his first name as well as the unexpected defence. He almost sounded jealous, but Draco supposed it was merely Potter's hatred of Rita overcoming his better sense.

"TouchŽ, Potter," Rita said and then bent closer to Draco to tap her stained face. "A little help, love?"

Draco sighed mentally and then cast the spell to clean her up. He had found her odious and unprincipled during his interactions with her at Hogwarts, even as he had used her to torment his arch-nemesis. Although seeing Potter bristle with rage was always a sight worth seeing. Magic seemed to crackle from his very pores and Draco half-expected the glasses in the room to shatter.

Potter was distracted before that happened. The door opened to divulge the dishevelled girls, half sobbing with what was obviously relief.

"You prat!" Potter said. "How did you know?"

Draco shrugged. He had seen the bandmates spill the bowl containing their blueberries, requiring the staff to bring them another bowl, which lost them precious time that obviously could not be regained.

"You owe me a Galleon, Potter."

"You can bill me." With that, Potter got to his feet and held out his hand. Draco almost -- almost -- reached up and took it, until he realized Potter wanted something. "Give me the key. I want to go put this knapsack down and hopefully find a hot bath."

"I'll go with you," Draco said.

Potter shrugged and headed for the stairs. Draco heard him mutter under his breath and then start up. After ten steps, Draco noticed he was lagging and stopped admiring Potter's arse in order to gain a couple of steps and look at Potter, who seemed slightly pale and strained.

"Are you all right?" Draco asked.

Potter nodded curtly. "Just tired. I'm not used to running an obstacle course carrying your -- "

Draco was glad Potter didn't finish that sentence, as it was guaranteed to be unflattering and would probably cause him to retaliate and then they would be arguing again.

"Give me the pack," Draco said and took the knapsack from Potter before he could protest. Then he looped an arm around Potter's waist and forced the man to lean into him.

"What are you doing?" Potter hissed.

"Helping you up the stairs, invalid."

"Knock it off, they are probably staring."

"I thought today's challenge was supposed to cure your homophobia," Draco said, not letting go even though Potter's words stung. Of course the Saviour shouldn't be seen being manhandled by his partner. The Watcherbee was gone for the day, but Rita Skeeter and her evil quill were not.

"I am not homophobic!" Potter said. To Draco's surprise, he rested his hand on Draco's shoulder and gripped it, allowing Draco to actually help him up the stairs. "And thanks, my legs and back are aching."

When they reached the top of the stairs, Potter tried to pull away, but Draco ignored his effort. He scanned the doors, looking for 27. Of course it was at the end of the hall. He released Potter in order to unlock the door and push it open.

The room was twice the size of the rustic cabin in the Arizona canyon. Two beds were covered in thin-looking coverlets with the same wildlife motif as on the sofas downstairs. A single end table separated them and a magical lamp atop it lit up when they entered.

Potter tossed the knapsack toward the small writing desk. It landed about a foot away, but Potter only sat on the bed and toed off his shoes, still partly encrusted with dried mud.

"Please tell me we have a private bath," Potter said.

Draco walked to the open door on the other side of the room and peered inside. "We have a private bath."

"Thank god."

Draco walked inside and turned on the taps. The tub was a marble pool large enough to hold four people. Turning the tap led to a flood of water from somewhere not visible, quickly filling the tub. Draco swirled his hand through the water and then cast a Heating Charm to make it a bit hotter. Another spell caused it to bubble.

"Your bath is ready, Potter," Draco called.

Potter walked in and looked at the water dubiously. "Is it boiling?"

Draco gave him a pointed look and put his hand back in the water. "It's just bubbling, you oaf. For massage purposes."

"Oh. Thanks, then." Potter pulled off his shirt and Draco's eyes widened at the sudden appearance of Potter's abdominal muscles and smooth chest.

"Enjoy your bath," Draco said and was slightly alarmed to find his voice cracking slightly. He made his way to the door and escaped.



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.



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.



"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.



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 the blond 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 bed, 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.



"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.



Potter gasped and looked at Draco, who shrugged. It was a bit gratifying, however, to realize Potter had fully expected them to win.

"The tie is between our amazing Auror team and the Best Friends Forever duo!"

Kimmy and Lisa squealed, joined hands, and bounced up and down excitedly for a moment.

"I can't believe it," Potter muttered.

"The dark-haired one is a pure-blood. I thought I recognized her. I've seen her at some of my mother's functions. She has a very old bloodline."

"Like a poodle?" Potter asked dryly.

Draco nudged him with an elbow and gave him a glare. Potter laughed and Draco felt something loosen in his chest. He had been annoyed that Potter's bloody fanboy had chosen to monopolize his time through the entirety of their journey to St Petersburg, but he supposed his partner was simply oblivious of Nigel's interest.

"Therefore, we will need to have a tie-breaker. I am going to hold up photos of assorted artworks and you will write down whether or not the item is Muggle or Magical. Anna, please hand these cards and quills to our Auror and Best Friend teams."

Draco took the set of large white cards and the quill. Potter stood next to him, biting his lip. Draco thought about telling him not to do that, because it was distracting.

"The first item is..." Lee held up a photo of a piece of jewellery.

"Honestly," Draco muttered and wrote. "This is ridiculous." He wrote MAGIC on the card.

"I've seen that," Potter murmured.

"I should think so. It's the Hope Diamond," Draco whispered.

"Oh yes!" Potter said, looking excited. "Isn't it -- " He leaned close to Draco and finished, "Cursed?"

"Why would it be cursed?" Draco asked holding up his card when requested.

"Both correct! In 1749 the Hope Diamond was ordered reset by King Louis XV and it was cut into its current configuration by his court jeweller, Andre Jacquemin, a celebrated French Wizard."

"The Muggles believe it's cursed. Lots of horrible things have happened to people who owned it."

"Horrible things happen to people all the time, Potter." He looked disappointed and for a moment Draco wished the bloody thing was cursed just to see Potter's eyes light up. Draco sighed. Clearly the race was affecting his ability to rationalise.

The next photo showed a painting by Picasso. Draco and Kimmy -- he knew the brunette was his real competition, since the blonde was looking as confused as Potter -- both answered correctly. She glared at him.

"Huh, Muggle. I wouldn't have guessed."

"Which is why you aren't allowed to answer, Potter," Draco said.

The next three photos were answered correctly by them both, but Draco noted the challenge was getting more difficult. He had only guessed at the last photo, an impressionist painting whose style he thought he recognized, but only vaguely.

The next item was a jade pendant, ivory coloured with a stylized symbol cut out of the centre. "Shit," Draco breathed.

"What?" Potter asked.

"Asian art is not my forte," Draco admitted. "Mother never liked it. I'll have to guess."

"Fifty percent chance of guessing right," Potter said helpfully.

"I'm aware of that," Draco muttered through clenched teeth and wrote MAGIC. A very high percentage of art from China was magical. For that reason, he realized the item was more likely to be Muggle, so he started to scratch out the word and replace it.

"Cards up!" Lee yelled.

"Damn it." Draco held up his card and noted that Kimmy had written MUGGLE. The bint.

"A Muggle item it is! Kimmy and Lisa win the Museum Challenge and any single item from Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley, with a retail value of one hundred Galleons or less. Congratulations, Best Friends Forever!"

The shrieking that emanated from the girls was ear-piercing and Draco grimaced. Potter's hand dropped to his shoulder and squeezed. "It's all right," Potter said. "You were amazing. Really."

To his horror, Draco felt himself blush. "Thanks, Potter," he said simply and was only slightly disappointed when Potter's hand squeezed once more and then fell away.



Ron made derisive catcalls and thought about throwing his biscuit at the screen in disgust, but he knew Hermione would have something to say about that, so he stuffed it into his mouth instead and muttered around the crumbs. "Mat smucks."

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Ron," Hermione admonished. "They were very close. The dragon tamers came in last." She sounded disappointed.

"Good," Ron said after he'd swallowed and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "They get the biggest penalty. Harry and Draco only got five minutes, yeah?"

Neville nodded. "Yeah, they should be able to make that up in no time."

As they watched, the teams mounted brooms. Kimmy and Lisa took off on Lee's signal, soaring from the roof of the Hermitage under a Disillusionment Charm meant to keep them from Muggle sight. The fact that the sun was setting helped.

"Where are they going?" Luna asked, returning from the loo.

"Shlisselburg. Thirty five kilometres."

"Easy jaunt." Ron snorted.

"Oreshek Fortress," Hermione added. "They'll have one more challenge before the elimination."

As they watched, Harry and Malfoy shot into the sky, flying so near to each other their sleeves brushed, and matching each other for speed.

"Yeah! Go Harry!" Ron yelled. He needed another butterbeer.



"There they are!" Harry yelled, squinting into the wind and pointing for Malfoy's benefit. He doubted his partner could hear him over the screaming air rushing past.

Malfoy nodded and they simultaneously put on a burst of speed in order to overtake the girls. Harry fought to keep the grin from his face. God, but it felt good to fly and with Malfoy next to him it almost felt like a Quidditch competition with each of them racing for the Snitch, except for the sense of shared camaraderie.

Kimmy and Lisa flew quickly, crouched low on their brooms, but Harry and Malfoy raced past them as though they were hovering in place. Muffled shrieks reached their ears and Malfoy lifted a lazy hand to wave at them while Harry laughed.

The darkness had grown and Harry knew they had to maintain their speed in order to locate their destination before night fell completely. Lights from a small city slowly came into view and Malfoy drew ahead and beckoned to Harry, gesturing for him to follow. Harry did so willingly, figuring Malfoy had a better idea where to go than he would, particularly since he had no idea.

Malfoy dropped lower and lower until they skimmed the river, most likely the River Neva, if it was the same one that flowed next to the Hermitage in St Petersburg. Malfoy did not pause when the river ended and became a large lake, instead heading for a small island.

Malfoy slowed as they neared and Harry peered down at the place as they circled it. It definitely looked like a fortress, as high stone walls surrounded nearly the entire perimeter of the island. The pointed roofs of three towers jutted into the sky.

A bright fuchsia square marked their destination and they both dropped like stones, pulling up at the last moment in an unconsciously competitive Wronski Feint move. Harry laughed as they slammed to a halt just before the wide-eyed crowd.

"Nice moves, Malfoy," he said.

Malfoy smirked at him as Lee Jordan recovered and stepped forward. "Congratulations to our Auror team for coming in first yet again! But the challenge is not over yet!"

Harry's heart sank at the news. Bloody what now?

"Somewhere in this fortress is the Victory Carpet. Each team must locate it and the last team to stand upon it will be eliminated. Harry and Draco, you have the lead at the moment. Let's see if you can maintain it! Through that door you will find your final challenge of the day. Good luck!" Lee glanced up. "Here comes the Best Friends' team now, followed by the Tea Shop Girls!"

Harry and Malfoy both dropped their brooms and bolted for the indicated door. Inside, they found a single attendant, one table, and two chairs. Atop the table sat an innocuous looking glass of clear liquid.

"Welcome to Schlisselburg," she said with a thick Russian accent that converted "welcome" into "velcome". "Which one of you is up for the vodka challenge?"

Harry stared in horror at the large glass that had suddenly become ominous. "Vodka challenge?"

She nodded. "The location of the final carpet will appear at the bottom of the glass once it is empty. Only one of you may drink. Who is it to be?"

The glass suddenly looked huge. It had to contain at least a litre of vodka.

"I'll do it," Malfoy said.

"You can't be serious. My body weight is greater than yours," Harry protested.

"Potter, I was weaned on alcohol. We drank it at every bloody function my parents ever held. How do you think I survived years of the Dark Lord invading my home?"

Before Harry could respond, Malfoy sat down and picked up the glass. He tipped his head back and started to drink.

"Fuck," Harry murmured and took the other seat to watch nervously.

Malfoy downed half of it before setting the glass down. A shudder wracked his lean frame and his face flushed red as he gasped for breath. Harry cringed sympathetically. He did not care for the taste of vodka and he knew the alcohol had to be burning like fire in Malfoy's oesophagus.

After a moment, Malfoy wiped an arm across his brow and picked up the glass once more. "Cheers, Potter," he said and drank again.

Malfoy nearly finished it that time. Harry scooted his chair closer and put a hand on Malfoy's shoulder.

"I'm all right. I just... don't like vodka very much." Another shudder wracked his form and Harry hoped he wouldn't vomit. Malfoy took several deep breaths and then gulped the last bit.

The glass instantly transformed into a map. Malfoy handed it to Harry and stood up to walk to the nearest stone wall and lean against it. "Did I eat today?" he asked.

"Not since breakfast," Harry said worriedly.

"Good choice. I'm going to be quite drunk in about three minutes, Potter. What does the map show?"

Harry tore his eyes from Malfoy and scanned the parchment. "We need to go to the Old Prison."

"Fabulous. Do you have any idea where that is?"

Harry looked at the map and tried to reconcile it with his memory of the grounds before they had landed. The map gave no indication of where they stood at the moment. "I think so. Can you walk?"

Malfoy glared at him. "Of course I can walk. I'm just catching my breath. Let's go." He looked steady enough when he pushed away from the wall and Harry nodded.

"We have to cross the courtyard."

"What if the others are just coming in? Won't they see where we're going?"

"Disillusionment Charm? Is it permitted?" Harry asked the woman, who nodded.

Harry quickly cast the spell on himself and Malfoy and then they headed out. Harry had disguised them to look like the few random wizarding tourists they had seen wandering the grounds. Harry wondered how they had shut down the fortress to Muggles for the duration of the challenge and decided it didn't matter.

"I hate being drunk," Malfoy said.

"Why?" Harry asked as he scanned the grounds and nodded when he spotted the area that looked like the Old Prison. He saw a pair of brooms swoop overhead and walked faster when he noted it was Rita Skeeter and her sidekick. He wondered if they were the last pair to arrive.

"Don't like to lose control," Malfoy said. He sighed heavily. "I'm tired of walking. Why did we throw down our brooms? Flying would be faster."

"I didn't think we would need them," Harry replied.

"That will teach you to think, Potter," Malfoy said with a grandiose wave of his hand. "You are not very good at it."

Harry clenched his jaw, stung. "Thank you. I am aware of that."

Malfoy was silent for a moment and the sound of their feet crunching on the gravel seemed loud. It was growing quite dark and Harry squinted, trying to determine the best way to enter the Old Prison. The map was very generic and non-specific, more of a sketch than a diagram.

"I don't think you're stupid," Malfoy said suddenly.

Harry glanced at him, trying not to reveal his surprise and he reached out a quick hand when Malfoy stumbled. "Careful," he said.

"I need to sit down." Malfoy leaned heavily on Harry.

"You can't sit down. We have to find the damn carpet, remember? You don't want us to be eliminated, do you?"

Malfoy looked up at Harry and pouted as he shook his head. "Gonna win. Gonna kick arse on those bloody girls and dragon hunter fanboys of yours."

"Tamers," Harry corrected, amused despite himself. "Dragon tamers."

Malfoy shoved away from him. "Don't care," he snapped. "Dragon hunters, tamers, fuckers. Bastards, 'specially that Nigel."

Harry blinked at him. "What's wrong with Nigel? He's sweet."

Malfoy glared at him. "I hate you, Potter."

Harry sighed. "Yes, I know. Can you start walking so that we can get this bloody contest over with and find you a bed to sleep off your excess vodka consumption?"

Malfoy straightened and began to march. Even though his gait was a bit unsteady, he was at least moving in the right direction. "Fine. You p'rolly sneak out at night t' meet with bastard Nigel."

Harry was baffled by Malfoy's words and decided to blame it on the vodka. "I do not sneak out and meet Nigel. Now be quiet and focus on walking, okay?"

Malfoy clamped his lips together and kept moving. By the time Harry located the correct part of the castle, a door, and steps leading downward, Malfoy was clinging to him and complaining bitterly.

"I'm cold. Make the wind stop, Potter."

"There's no wind in here, Malfoy. You're choking me. Do you think you can loosen your grip a bit? Not that much! Damn it, you'll fall down the steps and break your neck! Just hang on, but don't choke me, okay?"

They reached the base of the steps and Harry tried not to think about how nice Malfoy felt snuggled up next to him, even if he was a near dead-weight. "You smell good, Potter," Malfoy said and dragged Harry closer to bury his nose in Harry's throat and inhale. Harry's ability to think deserted him for a moment.

"Malfoy, um..."

"Do you taste good, too?"

"Oh god," Harry said as Malfoy's tongue flicked out and slid across Harry's jugular. "You're going to hate yourself if you remember this tomorrow."

Harry heard singing behind them and exchanged his grip on Malfoy for a more secure one before half-dragging him down the corridor. "Come on, someone is coming." They rounded a corner and Harry felt a wash of relief when he saw a small crowd grouped around a familiar-looking carpet. Finally!

"Walk just a little farther," Harry coaxed.

"Why?" Malfoy's voice was muffled by Harry's neck.

Harry replied by hauling him to the carpet to stand before Lee Jordan. Thankfully, Malfoy raised his head to blink at Lee.

"Jordan!" Malfoy said loudly. "You're a prick."

Lee laughed uproariously. "Brilliant. Apparently, Auror Malfoy is an even bigger tosser after guzzling a litre of vodka. Hard to believe, I know. Regardless, the Auror team of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are the first to reach safety on this leg of The Incredible Race! Congratulations, Auror Team. Harry, please enter the room to the left where you will be given further instructions. I will see you both in the morning."

Harry could only nod and pull Malfoy into the indicated room. He glanced back once to see Brendan hauling a staggering Nigel onto the carpet. Nigel was singing an off-key song at the top of his lungs, despite Brendan's best efforts to hush him. Harry didn't envy him -- at least Malfoy was a relatively quiet drunk.

Inside the small room was another of Lee Jordan's assistants. This one was a young man who looked at them sympathetically. "Dreadful challenge," he said. "I was against this one. Too much alcohol can poison someone who isn't used to it." Harry looked at Malfoy in alarm, but the man sighed and held up two potion vials. "Never mind. I'm sure he'll be fine. One of these is a Sobering Potion, the other is a Hangover Remedy. It's up to you which one to use. Do not use them both. If you'll step to the fireplace, the Russian version of the Floo Network is ready to take you to your hotel for the evening. It works more like a Portkey, so as soon as you enter the flames you'll be sent to your destination. Do you have any questions?"

"Did your mother pick out your shirt?" Malfoy asked.

Harry clamped a hand over his partner's mouth. "Thank you. We'll just be... going now. Good night."

The man lifted a hand, although he frowned and looked down at his shirt. Harry stepped into the fireplace with his sagging partner and felt a strange wrenching sensation that seemed to mimic both Apparition and travel by Portkey. At the end of the journey, Harry fell out of the fireplace, staggered, and went down with Malfoy atop him.

"Oh good," Malfoy muttered. "Are we sleeping now?" He wrapped his arms around Harry and seemed to settle in as though Harry were a comfortable pillow.

"No, we can't sleep here. Malfoy, you have to get up."

"Draco," Malfoy said, moving his head on Harry's chest as though trying to get more comfortable. "I'm Draco."

"Draco," Harry corrected. "You have to get up."

"No," Malfoy said petulantly.

"You don't want to sleep on the floor when there is a perfectly good bed... I think... What is that delicious smell?"

"My shampoo," Malfoy said. Harry started to laugh until one of Malfoy's hands began to roam over Harry's side, moving over his ribcage and down to rest upon the curve of his hip.

"No, it smells more like food. Actual food! Please get up, Mal -- Draco."

Malfoy's head lifted and he frowned. "I am hungry."

"Yes!" Harry said. "Me, too. Very hungry. Let's eat."

Malfoy levered himself to his feet and staggered toward a nearby table. He bumped into it and Harry cringed when he heard the shiver of glassware. He got to his feet and followed, hoping to rescue anything Malfoy might have knocked over.

"Vodka!" Malfoy crowed and hefted a bottle.

"Oh good heavens, no!" Harry said and snatched the bottle away from him, earning a petulant glare.

"I just wanted a little taste."

"You have had more than enough of a taste. Speaking of which, do you want to take a Sobering Potion now, or do you prefer to take Hangover Halter in the morning?"

Malfoy's pert nose wrinkled and he levered himself awkwardly into a padded chair. "No Sobering Potion. They taste revolting. Besides, I feel fine. Fine, fine, fine. Blini!" He snatched up a small pancake and smeared it with some blackish substance before rolling it up and stuffing half of it into his mouth. Harry had never seen the normally fastidious Malfoy eat with his hands. Not even finger food, by his recollection.

"Ohmygodsogoodcaviar," he mumbled around his mouthful. He grabbed another blini and Harry hurried around the table to sit down. The spread was quite impressive. Some sort of red soup, cabbage-wrapped meat rolls, marinated tomatoes, dark bread, potatoes dotted with dill, and several small dishes of caviar next to a stack of blini. Harry filled up his plate.

The food was divine, made all the better by watching Draco Malfoy eat like a small child while making noises of intense pleasure that did strange things to Harry's heartbeat. Harry slowly chewed a potato and watched Malfoy stack tomatoes and caviar atop a slice of brown bread. He hadn't once picked up a fork.

"Caviar tomato sandwich," Malfoy said triumphantly and bit into it before making a moaning sound that caused Harry's jaw to drop. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Malfoy leaned forward suddenly and thrust his treat beneath Harry's nose. "You must try this!"

Harry wrinkled his nose. He was not a fan of trying new and exotic foods -- he wasn't brave enough to even taste the red soup -- and caviar had never been high on his list of things to attempt.

"Taste it," Malfoy demanded and pushed the bread against Harry's lips. He steeled himself and bravely opened his mouth, assuming Malfoy would not stop until he succumbed. To his surprise, it was quite good.

"It's delicious," he mumbled as he chewed.

"Of course it is. I have brilliant taste," Malfoy said and pulled away to take another bite. He dropped his food onto a plate and sat back, swallowing and wiping his mouth with a brightly coloured napkin. "I'm really tired. I think I'll go to bed."

With that, Malfoy rose and headed for the bed, which caused Harry to blink in surprise. The bed. Singular. Why was there only one bed? Granted, it was huge, but... He scowled, wondering if this was Lee Jordan's idea of a joke, but he had no idea how to contact the prat. His thought processes were completely disrupted by Malfoy peeling off his clothes and tossing them haphazardly on the floor.

"Um... Draco?" Harry asked, abandoning his meal and getting to his feet awkwardly as Malfoy's trousers fell to the floor, revealing lean, muscular legs and an amazing arse beneath silky-looking white pants. Silky-looking white pants that dropped around his ankles a moment later and were kicked aside with an absent jerk as Malfoy stepped away from them and pulled back the blankets on the bed, giving Harry a more than adequate view of his amazing arse -- and just a glimpse of his testicles. Harry's mouth went completely dry.

Harry turned and fumbled for one of the bottles of vodka on the table. By the rustling sound, he assumed Malfoy's nudity was safely concealed by the bedding, but the image seemed to be burned into Harry's retinas. He poured a generous quantity of the clear liquid and downed it, welcoming the burn along with the shudder that shook him at the unfamiliar taste.

Harry walked to the window and stared out at the lights of St Petersburg -- he recognized some of the visible skyline from his time on the Hermitage roof -- until Malfoy's breathing grew steady and deep.

Harry retrieved his pyjamas from his knapsack, put them on, and climbed into the bed being careful not to disturb Malfoy and even more careful not to touch him. Even so, it was a long time before Harry fell into a fitful sleep.



Draco wrinkled his nose. Something was tickling his face. He twitched again, but that only made the tickling worse and now his nose itched. His eyes snapped open to behold a dark blur that gave no indication of what brushed against his face. He pulled back with a frown.

He shut his eyes as the movement caused a cacophony of pain to start chiming in his head. He tried to lift his hand, but it was trapped by something. He thought he must be lying on the other one. Draco opened his eyes again and received a jolt even through the near-blinding headache. Potter's head rested next to his, face turned partially Draco's way, lips slightly parted, eyes closed. He was obviously asleep.

Draco blinked and became aware that his arm was held by Potter's and that not only was he sleeping next to Potter, he was completely entangled with the man.

Oh shit, he thought. To make things worse, Potter felt incredibly good. Lying next to him was far better than clinging to his back. Draco's arm was across Potter's chest and the man's hand was wrapped around Draco's wrist, as if holding him in place. Draco's groin was pressed firmly against Potter's hipbone and one of his legs was between Potter's and his ankle was trapped beneath Potter's calf. He wasn't sure he could disentangle himself without waking Potter.

Draco tried to relax. He obviously wasn't going anywhere. Despite his pounding headache, he kept his eyes open in order to study Potter. His lashes were ink-black and incredibly long, almost curling at the ends. His nose was straight and fine, without even a bump to mark where Draco had broken it so long ago. Draco pushed aside feelings of guilt about that, recalling the scar that crossed his own torso. A violent history lay between them, but Draco felt some hope that those days were finally past. They worked surprisingly well as a team.

Draco had been astonished when he'd received the notice that he had been chosen to accompany the Ministry hero on this ridiculous round-the-world contest. He had fully expected Weasley to remain Potter's partner, as he was on a daily basis. Draco had only worked with Potter on one case, and they had sniped at each other the entire time and nearly come to blows more than once.

Minister Edgemont had explained that he felt Draco should partner with Potter to show that they could work as a team. That had been a veiled threat, of course, and Edgemont had also mentioned the importance of the Ministry showing no malice toward those who may have fought on the "wrong side" during the war. Propaganda, Draco understood.

Potter's chest was bare and nearly hairless. Draco flexed his fingers the merest bit and slid his thumb over Potter's skin in a not-quite caress.

Potter had lovely lips. Draco had noticed before, especially with Potter's habit of frequently biting them. They were full without being pouty, shaped like Cupid's bow, and very soft, he remembered from the blueberry challenge. He debated tasting them now, leaning forward and teasing Potter awake with a kiss.

He nearly groaned aloud when the mere thought of it made his cock stir against Potter's hip. His eyes widened with momentary panic and he quickly thought about something other Potter's lips or Potter's eyes or Potter's skin... Not working, he decided. He had to get up before a certain part of his anatomy woke up completely.

Draco gingerly moved his arm, hoping to loosen Potter's grip and slide his wrist free, but Potter's eyes snapped open and focussed on Draco's with alert intensity. It was startling. They stared at each other for a moment until Potter seemed to recall their whereabouts.

"Draco," Potter mumbled. "Um." As Draco watched, a flush slowly stained Potter's cheeks and spread downward to his chest and possibly even farther. "Good morning?"

"For you, perhaps," Draco said dryly, fighting his own blush and hoping Potter happened not to notice Draco's half-hard cock digging into his hip. "Some of us have a blinding headache." He wondered at Potter's use of his first name and tried to think back to the previous evening. He hadn't done anything too foolish, he hoped.

"Oh! Right. The vodka! Let me get your Hangover Potion." Potter let go of Draco's wrist and rolled out of bed so quickly the mattress might have caught fire. Draco shut his eyes and tried not to feel disappointed at Potter's abandonment. He frowned as a vague memory of draping himself over Potter returned to him. Had he been tasting Potter's neck? No wonder the prat was so keen to escape.

The bed depressed as Potter sat next to him -- on the other side this time -- and said, "Here you go. I'm not sure... Would you like some water with it?"

Draco rolled over to face him and shook his head. "No, it tastes foul enough without water to exacerbate it."

Potter's lips twisted into an odd smile.

"What?" Draco asked as he tugged the cork from the vial.

"Nothing. I just enjoy the way you talk. Always so proper and with such fancy words."

"It's called a vocabulary, Potter. You should acquire one." Despite his words, Draco felt a rush of warmth that softened his tongue and made them sound more of a tease than a censure. Bloody hell, Potter was confusing him. He decided it must be the residual alcohol and downed the potion in a single gulp.

Draco counted to twenty in order to keep the potion down. Hangover remedies had more unpleasant effects than Sobriety Potions, but they didn't have an aftertaste that stayed with you for three days. He shut his eyes and waited while a roiling wave of heat flooded through him, beginning in his belly and travelling through his blood stream until it reached his fingertips and toes. He always imagined the potion left a trail of singed cells behind. His skin felt unpleasant and tingly, overly sensitive and burned clean.

"Fuck, I hate that," he said.

Potter nodded. "I know. I almost prefer Sobering Potions to feeling like I've swallowed live coals. Except for the aftertaste."

"I am certain some abstention party demanded the foulest ingredients be added in order to discourage drunkenness lest the cure be too simple."

Potter chuckled. "I suppose you're right. Do you want to shower?"

"With you?" Draco asked and then froze, because he hadn't meant to; the words had just slipped out. Potter turned scarlet, eyes wide and shocked, and Draco forced a laugh. "Honestly, Potter, your face." He chuckled again.

Potter stood up abruptly. "Tosser. I'll take one first and you can... find your clothes or whatnot." With that, he stalked to the bathroom and slammed the door.

Draco stared after him in surprise, wondering at Potter's reaction. Bloody hell, he was moody this morning.



Harry stood in the shower and let the pathetic water pressure sluice over him. The shower head emitted less of a "spray" and more of a "trickle", but it was enough to wet a cloth and allow him to scrub while his hair slowly got wet. Rinsing would take a while.

Damn Malfoy.

Harry had snapped awake at the feel of a warm body next to his and a hand on his chest. Waking to find Draco Malfoy staring at him had been a bit of a shock, and not an unpleasant one. It had been even more interesting to discover Malfoy wrapped around him, hand on his chest, legs entangled, and something pressed against his hip that caused Harry to abruptly remember that Malfoy wasn't wearing anything.

Harry dragged the cloth over his chest, knowing his erection wasn't going to diminish any time soon. It had driven him out of the bed to locate Malfoy's potion, cheeks burning while he wondered if he had imagined Malfoy's partially-hard cock. Had it merely been a case of morning wood, or was there something more? Malfoy had been watching him, if opening his eyes and meeting a grey stare had been more than a coincidence.

And then Malfoy's question regarding the shower. Fuck. It hadn't sounded like a joke, despite Malfoy's laugh afterward. Could he actually be interested? Or was he just messing with Harry's head? It wouldn't be the first time.

There was no help for it. Harry reached down and stroked himself. He couldn't walk around all day with an erection or Malfoy would have no doubt whatsoever that Harry wanted to shove him onto the bed and... something. Harry's mind stalled at that point, except for vague images of his mouth travelling over Malfoy's smooth skin and touching -- oh fuck. Harry came, splashing the faux-marble wall of the shower. He gasped into the spray for a moment and then turned his attention to wiping up all traces of his activity.

With his mind a bit clearer, Harry shut off the water and stepped out of the tub with renewed determination. Something was growing between them and he needed to find out what it was. He just wasn't sure how to go about it.



Draco sat cross-legged on the bed, nibbling on a croissant. Potter came out of the bath wearing only a towel and Draco nearly choked. He forced himself to finish chewing and coughed a couple of times while waving toward the table.

"Breakfast arrived with a wakeup call. We're to be in the Floo -- or the fireplace, rather -- at nine. Which gives us roughly thirty minutes."

Potter knelt down to dig through his rucksack, exposing a great deal of thigh with the movement. "Are you sure you can primp your hair in that little time?" he asked. Thankfully, his tone was teasing and he did not seem to be upset or annoyed.

"It will be a struggle, but I'll manage," Draco admitted. He had considered marching into the bathroom and confronting Potter in the shower, but despite the signals he hoped he hadn't been imagining, Draco admitted to the possibility of it ending very badly. He had indulged in a slow wank instead, breathing in Potter's scent that lingered on the bed.

The damned food basket had appeared on the table just as he had finished, along with a blaring alarm that nearly had him leaping out of his skin. Fucking Jordan. Draco had cast a quick Cleaning Charm to dispel the evidence of his activity and retrieved a pair of pants from his belongings before the shower shut off.

"Enjoy that water pressure," Potter said with a distinct smirk in his voice.

"Prat," Draco muttered as he tore his eyes away from Potter's half-clad body and escaped into the bathroom.



The fireplace transfer took them back to the Hermitage, spilling them into an ornate room from an oversized marble fireplace. Potter stumbled into Draco. The man was helpless at travel and waiting for the spell to trigger had been uncomfortable, standing inches from each other in the hotel fireplace while making inane small talk about the breakfast food.

Draco straightened Potter, who threw him an absent smile and then focussed on Lee Jordan and the collected group.

"We are sorry to say that Kimmy and Lisa, Best Friends Forever, were eliminated last night," Lee said in a sad tone.

"But they were right behind us!" Potter said.

Lee nodded. "They had difficulty with the vodka challenge. By the time Kimmy finished her glass, the other contestants had caught up. In the final footrace to the carpet, Rita and Gertrude put on a burst of speed and passed the girls, who never actually made it to the finish because Kimmy passed out just before reaching the stairs."

Draco frowned. The challenge seemed to have been unfairly skewed against those with lower body weights and minimal tolerance for alcohol. Then again, perhaps the vodka levels had been adjusted to account for such a thing. Fans of Kimmy and Lisa would likely demand an accounting.

"But enough with the sad news! Your challenge for today is to reach the St Petersburg Office of Global Travel and purchase Portkey jumps to your next destination, which is..." Lee paused dramatically. "Bora Bora!"

"Oh god," Draco said.

Potter looked at him curiously, but said nothing. The other teams looked just as unexcited.

"Please turn in your wands to Angelique and pick up a map with directions. Your challenge begins in five minutes."

Draco joined the queue and reluctantly handed over his wand. Potter already held the map and seemed to be puzzling out the best way to get there. The groups broke off and gathered into private huddles in different parts of the room.

"Muggle cab," Harry murmured. "It's more expensive than the bus, but quicker. I'm hoping speed is more important than frugality at this point."

Draco agreed. They hadn't dipped into their funds much, mainly because meals and lodging had largely been provided.

Lee clapped for attention. "Also, please be aware that this next round of challenges will involve a double elimination. In Bora Bora, two teams will be going home."

A collective mutter met Lee's words. Draco met Potter's determined stare and almost smiled. Their original plan to throw the contest and depart one another's company seemed ludicrous now.



"Bloody hell! I liked the girls!" Ron said.

"I'll bet," Hermione replied with a warning glare.

"More than Rita Skeeter!" Ron protested. "They should have been out!"

"Yeah, too bad Kimmy kept almost hurling at every sip of vodka," Neville said. "Poor thing."

"Yes, the poor little dear," Hermione said dryly.

Ron snorted. "Yeah, like you wouldn't be upset if the Dragon Tamers were out."

"I wouldn't!" she protested, but her cheeks went pink.

"Double-standards," Ron muttered and nudged Neville. Hermione rolled her eyes, but did not bother to refute it.



The Portkey jumps were hell. From St Petersburg they travelled to Romania, where there was some confusion about International Apparition Licenses, which apparently were required even when travelling by Portkey, causing a four hour delay. From there they went to an obscure location in Pakistan, and then on to Singapore, where there was another delay. Draco spent it sleeping and speculated that the "travel glut" excuse was simply a way for the race crew to go sightseeing for a few hours. They finally reached Papeete, Tahiti. After the last jump, Draco was feeling nauseous and Potter wasn't looking much better.

"Fuck, one more to go. I think I'm going to crack apart on this one," Potter said.

"At least it's a short distance," Nigel said. He had once again attached himself to Potter. They had all arrived in Tahiti together. Draco, Harry and the Tea Shop girls had left St Petersburg first, but due to the delay in Romania, everyone else had caught up to them and they had travelled together from that point on.

The tropical heat was stifling, especially after the cool temperatures of Russia. The Portkey Office was an open-air affair stuck in the centre of a patch of sand in the middle of a scrubby jungle, from what Draco could see. He slapped at a buzzing insect.

"Welcome to paradise," Rita Skeeter said dryly.

"It is very much nicer where you are going," the Portkey agent said with a huge smile. Her face was round and friendly, much like the rest of her. Flowers bedecked her hair, wrists, ankles, and dress pattern. Her French accent seemed incongruous. "Five more minutes! Are you all ready?"

They all nodded or muttered in the affirmative. The Portkey device on the island was a large woven basket that they all stood around in a circle while holding the edge. This gave them the opportunity to stare each other down. Potter kept his glare fixed on Rita Skeeter while Draco shifted his from Nigel to the Tea Shop girls and back again.

"Cinq, quatre, troi, deux, Adieu!" the woman called and waved merrily as the Portkey basket took them away.

The jump was thankfully short. Draco staggered away from the Portkey, feeling queasy. Thankfully, the air was much less stifling and a sea-scented breeze washed over him. His eyes fixed on lazily lapping waves beyond a stretch of bone-white sand.

"Welcome to Bora Bora!" a man cried in yet another French accent. Draco turned just in time to have several flower leis dropped over his head to fall upon his shoulders, placed there by swarthy-skinned girls. He glanced at Potter, who caught his eye and grinned.

Draco cast his eye back toward the water and noticed an impressive peak jutting into the sky across a brilliant expanse of turquoise water. Several palm trees swayed in the breeze, reaching toward the cloudless sky from the white sand. A cluster of small thatched huts stood on the beach and a rope-lined wooden dock led out into the lagoon where several more huts stood on pilings, perched above the water like strange birds.

"Good afternoon, Incredible Race participants! There are only four teams left and before we leave this beautiful island paradise, there will be only two!" Lee Jordan sounded just as refreshed and cheerful as he had when they had left St Petersburg.

"I hate Gryffindors," Draco muttered. Potter heard him and gouged him with an elbow. Jordan was dressed in a red shirt with huge yellow flowers, and khaki shorts. His feet were bare and a wide-brimmed straw hat sat atop his head. He looked like a native.

"That's right, ladies and gentlemen!" Jordan continued. "Six of you will be spending the night in the beautiful over-water bungalows you see behind you, and the other two will be headed back to England, where it is currently thirteen degrees and raining."

Draco did not particularly care where he spent the night, as long as it involved a bed. International travel was wretched and exhausting and he was in no mood for another bloody challenge.

"The next elimination will take place tomorrow, so only one team will be unlucky enough to go home tonight. Now, if you will all follow me, this area has been specially set up for our challenge. We call it Diving for Pearls! Mostly because that's what you'll be doing."

Draco suppressed a groan. They trekked across the white sand toward a set of four brightly striped tents. Jordan said, "If you will all please enter the tents and change into appropriate swimwear, we will begin. You may leave your gear inside the tents."

The tents were tiny, simply four fabric walls barely large enough to stand in. Potter dropped the knapsack and rooted through it until he found the shorts they had purchased in Arizona. "These will work, yeah?"

"Fine," Draco said. He didn't care. He especially didn't care when Potter yanked his t-shirt over his head and dropped it into the knapsack, exposing his extraordinary back muscles to Draco's riveted gaze. He remembered running his hands over Potter's smooth skin in Finland.

Potter kicked off his trainers and then unfastened his jeans before throwing Draco a look over his shoulder. "Planning to change, or are you going to swim in your designer trousers and Italian loafers?" Potter smirked.

Draco rolled his eyes and quickly unbuttoned his white shirt, watching Potter all the while. The jeans slid down over his lean legs and Potter stepped free of them before yanking off his socks. "Bloody hell, we're going to have sand in everything. I hate the beach."

Draco was surprised to hear his own sentiments echoed by the Gryffindor. He paused with his shirt halfway off when Potter shucked his pants to stand completely naked before Draco, obliviously holding up his Muggle shorts for inspection.

Draco's eyes travelled over Potter's firm arse, deliciously dimpled on the sides and rounded just enough to be classified as practically perfect.

"Did I have these cleaned in Finland?"

The question thankfully shook Draco out of his trance and he tore at his shirt before he realized he hadn't unbuttoned his sleeves. "I had them cleaned in Finland," Draco said, easing the sleeves back up and removing the buttons. He tossed the shirt toward Potter's.

"Oh, good! Thanks!" Potter bent and stepped into the shorts, shaking them a bit to remove any sand as he pulled them up. Draco watched the process avidly and mourned the loss of the view, even though the Muggle shorts were clingy enough that the shape of Potter's arse was still easily discerned.

Draco kicked off his shoes and unfastened his trousers. Potter coughed as he turned around to face Draco. "I'll just... ah, wait for you outside." The flap fell back into place as he left.

Oddly enough, Draco felt more comfortable once Potter had departed. He had feared he would start blushing, for fuck's sake. He finished stripping and put on his Muggle shorts. They were surprisingly comfortable and were far more appropriate than trousers in the heat.

Draco hurried outside just as Edna exited one of the other tents. She glared at him, as though daring him to comment on her girlish swimsuit, which was pale pink and bedecked with tiny sparkles and a multitude of white ruffles.

Brendan wore a pair of loose-looking tan shorts and was flexing his muscles toward a group of giggling native girls. Nigel was shockingly dressed in tiny red pants that only needed lace trim to look perfectly normal on Pansy. He was chatting of Potter, of course, and smiled nervously at Draco's venomous glare.

Rita Skeeter wore a bright purple two-piece suit most likely inspired by some Muggle fashion. It showed off entirely too much skin and Draco looked away with a shudder. Gertrude's outfit looked like it had been originally worn in 1947. To a funeral.

"Now that we're all here, we can begin. This challenge will be a test of stamina -- and luck! Please follow me out upon this lovely dock so that I may explain the rules." Jordan marched out onto the wooden platform and waited expectantly.

Draco sighed and joined the others as they clustered around Jordan on the slatted boards. Potter stood next to Draco and their bare elbows brushed. Draco didn't move away.



"Budge over!" Ginny said and gouged Ron in the ribs with an index finger.

"Ouch! Bloody hell, do you sharpen those things?" He glared at her.

"You're hogging the whole sofa. Move your arse."

Luna laughed and shook her head at their antics. Ron envied her for a moment -- she was an only child. "I'm telling Mum you've grown a terrible case of potty-mouth," he grumbled, but moved over to avoid another attack from her talons.

"I'm twenty-four years old. Somehow I think that will be less than effective."

"Who invited you?" Just because his sister was a renowned Quidditch star didn't mean she had to invade his house and take it over like the goblins invading that one town back in... that date he couldn't remember. He frowned, thinking he should have paid more attention in History of Magic.

"Um, I did," Neville said with a nervous grin and a raised hand. "I saw her in Diagon Alley and didn't think you'd mind."

"Thank you, Neville. You're such a prat, Ronald, you can't even invite your own sister to watch The Incredible Race. Now, be quiet! Lee is going to announce the challenge."

Hermione had been strangely quiet and Ron glanced at the screen to see it filled with mostly bare man-flesh. "What is he wearing?" Ron cried when he spied Nigel's tiny swimsuit. Four mouths shushed him in unison. Ron crossed his arms and pouted.

"In this challenge our contestants will be diving for pearls! Literally! Although they are still encased in the oysters at this point. Hundreds of black pearl oysters have been planted twenty feet down, requiring you to dive down and collect them. Your job is to fetch as many oysters as you can and toss them into the baskets here. Only oysters inside the baskets will count, so throw carefully!"

A row of large woven baskets filled the screen, each labelled with the names of the team members.

"You will have only ten minutes to collect as many oysters as possible. That is the stamina portion of the challenge. Once collected, you will take your baskets to the pearl merchants and we will all watch as the pearls are extracted and weighed. The team with the greatest weight in pearls will win the challenge and a fabulous prize! The team with the least will be going home... tonight."

"It would be horrible to be sent home from Tahiti when they only just got there," Hermione said.

"Harry won't be coming home," Ron said confidently. "I'll bet Rita Skeeter can't even swim!"

"She and Gertrude swam in the Grand Canyon challenge," Hermione said dryly.

"Yeah, but they didn't swim very well."

"Do you think Harry and Draco are shagging?" Ginny asked.

"What?" Ron burst out. The others goggled at her.

She shrugged. "Well, look at them. The sexual tension is practically illuminating the island. I think Harry always had a thing for him." She popped a crisp in her mouth and chewed before blinking at Ron and mumbling, "What?"

"Harry isn't... And Malfoy? I mean... Malfoy? Even if Harry was... was..." Ron shut his jaw with effort. Oh god, Harry was. It was so obvious. Ron turned back to the screen, mind whirling.

Ginny giggled. "Honestly, Ron, how could you not know? Why do you think we broke up? I caught him snogging Bertram Haversham outside the Quidditch locker room in Devon. Of course, Bertram practically attacked poor Harry, but Harry certainly wasn't fighting him off -- "

"Stop it!" Ron wailed and lifted his hands to his ears.

Hermione grabbed the hand closest to her and dragged it down. "Knock it off, Ron. Lee is talking."

"Does everyone understand the rules? Yes? Then on your mark, get set... GO!"

Harry and Malfoy dove into the water simultaneously, as did Nigel. Brendan leaped into the air, grabbed his knees, and shot downward like a stone. Flora flopped forward on her belly with a loud splash while the remaining girls simply stepped off the pier and disappeared into the clear water.

"It's so beautiful," Luna said dreamily. "I do hope they watch for the moonskippers, though."

No one bothered to ask what she meant.



The oysters were easy to spot, clustered on the bottom of the sea floor in a gigantic heap. The water was brilliantly clear, making it simple to swim down and grasp a couple of the rough molluscs. Malfoy's hand reached out and snagged Harry's arm. Harry looked at him and knew he would make a merman jealous, with his silver blond hair floating around his head in delicate strands.

Malfoy began to pile oysters into Harry's arms and Harry quickly drew them closer to his body to create a sort of shelf. When they were stacked to his chin and his lungs were screaming for air, he pushed off the bottom and shot to the surface. It was bloody hard to swim with his arms full of molluscs.

Malfoy's head breached the water and they both gasped. Malfoy reached for the oysters in Harry's arms -- he had lost a couple on the way up -- and began to throw them into the basket, which sat on the pier a few feet above their heads.

Most of them seemed to be going into the basket and when there were only a couple left, Harry tossed them up. "Switch this time," Malfoy said breathlessly. "We'll see who can carry more."

Harry nodded, took a great gulp of air, and went under.

Ten minutes seemed to take forever and Harry was exhausted by the time Jordan's annoying gong called a halt. Malfoy was in mid-throw and the oyster bounced off the basket and fell down to hit Harry on the shoulder, leaving a jagged gash behind.

"Sorry," Malfoy said to Harry's glare.

All of the competitors were too tired to use the ladders to climb back onto the pier. Instead, they paddled to shore and waded out of the water, shivering as the breeze hit their wet skin. Assorted small children hurried forward, holding out thick white towels. Harry took one gratefully and wrapped it around himself.

Four tables had been set up beneath shady overhangs. Large metal scales rested on each table and fierce-looking Polynesian men sat behind them. He helped Draco carry their basket of oysters to one of the tables, followed by one of Lee's assistants, possibly to ascertain they hadn't stuffed an extra oyster down their pants. Harry grinned at the thought.

"These scales were all calibrated this morning by the Ministry of Magic's Department of International Games and Sports. The certification is available upon request," Lee announced. "Our professional jewellers will now extract the pearls from the oysters."

They all moved closer. It was a fascinating process. The wizard would heft an oyster and cast a Nacre Detection Spell. They soon learned that a blue glow around the oyster was good and a pinkish glow was bad. The pink-labelled oysters were tossed aside. Those that glowed blue were given two additional spells: one to open the shell and the other to extract the pearl. Each darkish bit was dropped onto the scale.

Harry kept a close eye on the others. Flora and Edna had retrieved the most oysters, as far as he could tell. They had stuffed their suits full of oyster shells, as well as their arms, a practice Rita Skeeter and Gertrude Acrimony had taken up once they had spotted the manoeuvre. Despite the number of shells, it was the tiny clink of pearl on metal that kept them all riveted.

Rita and Gertrude ran out of shells first. "Twelve point six grams!" announced the man counting the Reporter Team's pearls.

Harry and Malfoy were next. Malfoy jaw set as their total came to "Thirteen point three!"

Directly on the heels of that announcement, Brendan and Nigel's counter finished. "Fifteen point one!"

Malfoy growled. Harry wondered if he was more upset about losing or about the fact that Nigel and Brendan had won. Malfoy certainly seemed to have more than normal animosity in regards to poor Nigel. Harry was pleased that they did not have to quit the competition, as well as the fact that it seemed Rita Skeeter and her evil sidekick would be the ones going home. He tried not to look smug.

It took another three minutes for the final count. When "Eleven point eight!" was announced, Harry gasped. The Tea Shop girls had lost!



"Congratulations, Brendan and Nigel! You are the winners of this leg of the challenge!"

"Poor Flora and Edna," Luna said. "They had more oysters than anyone."

"Yeah, bad luck. Most were empty." Neville's voice sounded only partially commiserating.

"Harry is still in, though."

"And Draco," Ginny said in a teasing tone. Ron glared at her.

"The winning prize for our Dragon Tamer team is a special Polynesian feast in their honour, complete with entertaining displays from fabulous Bora Bora dancers. Enjoy, boys! The rest of you will be treated to a special meal and then may retire to your quarters for the evening. Except for you, Flora and Edna. I'm afraid it's time for you to bid adieu to the fair islands and return to England. That is it for The Incredible Race for tonight! Stay tuned for exciting previews of the next episode when our remaining three teams battle it out for the final two positions! I'm Lee Jordan. Goodnight!"



Harry rolled the pearl in his palm. He had never seen anything quite like it. As a secondary prize for reaching the Final Four, each of the teammates had been allowed to select a single pearl acquired from the diving challenge. Harry had taken one the jeweller had referred to as "peacock". The colour was quite remarkably green and it was almost perfectly round. He frowned and made a note to purchase necklaces for Hermione, Ginny, and Luna before they left Bora Bora. They had been allowed to shop with their own funds, as long as none of the items were sent away or used during the Race.

Malfoy had purchased several works of art from the Hermitage, which would be sent to him once he returned home. And they both planned to order massage oil from Finland.

Harry sighed and placed the pearl back into the velvet lined box. It was almost time for dinner, which was supposed to be some special outdoor event. He needed to get ready.

After a quick shower, Harry dragged a comb through his hair and changed into a pair of white shorts he had purchased at a kiosk near the main hotel building. He and Malfoy had both bought new outfits, using funds from their Incredible Race bank. Harry worried they wouldn't have enough Galleons left to reach their final destination, but Malfoy rationalized that they could always sell their pearls. Harry balked at the idea, but gave in when he thought of wearing the same clothing one more time, even cleaned and Transfigured.

He added an aqua coloured shirt and then fluffed his hair with his fingers, hoping to dry it a bit, but knowing he had probably only succeeded in making it look as though he had slept on it. He considered casting a Drying Charm -- their wands had been returned after the challenge -- but those tended to make his hair too dry and poof up in a Hermione-esque fashion. He would just have to live with it damp.

A magical chime sounded, hastening him toward the door. He hurried out, foregoing shoes because they would only fill with sand, and most people seemed to go without them. A directional will-o-wisp bobbed in front of him, leading him up the beach until he reached a group of palm trees that jutted out over the water.

Near the trees sat a small table, topped with a white cloth, two gleaming white place settings, and a tropical floral display. Malfoy stood next to the table, looking somewhat self-conscious -- and incredibly gorgeous. He wore white linen trousers with cuffs that exposed his bare ankles and feet, and a pale silk button-down shirt in some sort of iridescent colour that seemed to change from blue to green like the sea with each ripple from the breeze. The sleeves had been rolled back to mid-forearm. He looked like an advertisement for casual elegance.

Malfoy smiled as Harry approached and he waved a hand to indicate the spread. "Apparently we are being treated to seaside dining. It seems a bit romantic, but this is the tropics and they seem to require such displays."

"Are you opposed to romance, then?" Harry asked with a grin.

Malfoy shrugged. "Not really. It has its uses."

Harry laughed. "Spoken like a true Slytherin."

Malfoy snorted. "As if Gryffindors don't use flowers and chocolates and pretty sonnets to gain access to a girl's knickers."

"Or a boy's," Harry blurted and then flushed.

Malfoy's gaze was piercing and Harry avoided it by walking forward and tugging a chair away from the table. He sat down on the white-cushioned seat and looked at the array of shining silverware, decorated with a seashell motif.

Malfoy sat across from him just as a smiling native approached. She was portly and had a mass of black hair held back with a flower-bedecked band. Somehow she reminded Harry of Mrs Weasley.

"Bon soir, Mssr Malfoy and Mssr Potter. I am Amura and I will be serving you this evening. Would you care to start your meal with a speciality cocktail? We also have beer and wine, both local and imported."

"How about it, Potter? Are you up for something that contains impaled fruit?"

"I'm game if you are," Harry shot back.

Amura listed a selection of drinks and they settled on one that contained banana, mango, strawberry, and a generous amount of rum. Amura padded away, but returned quickly with the drinks.

Malfoy lifted his glass and clinked it against Harry's with a smirk. "To romance."

Harry blushed and covered it by drinking quickly. God, Malfoy couldn't be flirting with him. Could he?

Amura dropped off two dishes, one of which held poisson cru, which Malfoy pronounced to be raw tuna marinated in lime and coconut milk. Harry thought it was delicious. The second dish contained small egg rolls with a variety of dipping sauces. They ate in comfortable silence for a time and Harry found his gaze straying to the lapping waves in order to keep from ogling his dinner partner. When half his drink was gone, he vowed not to touch it again, because getting drunk around Malfoy would be a very bad idea.

"So, Potter, how many boys' knickers have you tried to get into?" Malfoy asked.

Harry had just taken a bite of poisson cru, which Malfoy had to have known, and he nearly choked on it. After a minute or two of coughing, which drew Amura with a worried flutter of hands and concerned questions, Harry glared at him.

"Tosser," he said.

Malfoy laughed. "Not going to answer the question, then?"

"Absolutely not."

"I assume you would if the answer was 'none'."

Harry only cocked a brow at him and bit into an eggroll.

Amura brought out a selection of meat dishes, including swordfish, pork curry, and chicken with papaya. Harry tried to resist stuffing himself, but it was difficult. The food was amazing. He felt pleasantly full by the time small mango cakes were presented, along with a cooked banana dish that had a delightful coconut and vanilla flavour.

"I think I'll move here," Harry commented.

"It is gastronomic bliss," Malfoy said agreeably. "I fear I would do nothing but eat and lounge around on the beach. It's a wonder everyone here isn't rotund."

"Some are," Harry said with a chuckle. "I think swimming keeps the others svelte."

"I need a walk on the beach after that meal. Care to join me?" Malfoy asked.

Harry shrugged and nodded. In truth, his exhaustion had melted away, even though he felt pleasantly lethargic after such a fine meal. They both thanked Amura and started up the beach, away from the bungalows.

Harry wandered closer to the water. It was easier to walk on the wet sand, and the incoming waves washed over his ankles. Malfoy hugged the wet edge to avoid getting his trousers wet.

"It's really beautiful here," Harry said, pausing to admire the rocky peak that jutted into the darkening sky. The sun had set while they ate.

"Easy to see why they call it paradise, but you would get bored of it soon enough with no one to save. You love being an Auror, don't you?"

Harry glanced sidelong at him and shrugged. "I suppose. I do like saving people, although doing that is much rarer than simply tracking down belligerent drunks or foolish spell-casters. Do you remember the bloke that was experimenting with Vanishing Cr�me and made his wife's nose disappear?" Harry laughed. "She kept beating him with her handbag until we had to restrain her."

"He was lucky it was only her handbag. If she'd been closer to the kitchen he probably would have been brained with a cooking pan. Did they ever retrieve her nose?"

Harry nodded. "The Healers put her to right. I don't think she let him test any concoctions on her after that."

"I should hope not," Malfoy said. They exchanged reminiscences and amusing Auror stories until turning back simultaneously when another trio of palms blocked their path, not stopping until they reached the dock that led to the bungalows. They stepped onto the wooden pier and walked until they reached the branching path that led to Malfoy's hut.

Harry stopped, feeling suddenly awkward. "Are you very tired?" he blurted.

"Not particularly. Why?"

"There is a hot tub on my deck. I thought you might want a soak."

Malfoy snorted. "My bungalow doesn't have a hot tub. Preferential treatment for the Great Potter?"

Harry started to retort, annoyed, but Malfoy held up a hand.

"Never mind. As long as I can reap the benefit by association, I'm fine with it. Really. I'll be along in a few, yeah?"

Harry tamped down his irritation. He supposed he had been given the choicest room, since it was the farthest from the beach and had the most privacy, as well as the hot tub. Harry nodded and continued on to his bungalow where he quickly stripped out of his clothing and put his now-dry swimwear back on. After a moment of indecision, he tapped the magical menu on the desk to order a bottle of red wine, which appeared almost immediately with two crystal glasses on a silver tray.

The price would be deducted from their already dwindling Galleons, but Harry was feeling just reckless enough not to care. When Malfoy knocked, Harry opened the door and let him inside, trying not to admire Malfoy's bare skin, which was difficult considering how much of it was on display.

Malfoy raised a brow at the wine and Harry shrugged. "Hopefully it's not too common for your taste, but it seemed the thing to do." Harry extracted the cork with his wand and poured the wine while Malfoy wandered through the doors to the deck. Stairs led to a lower level where the hot tub perched. It had a glass bottom, which allowed a view of the sea floor where tropical fish darted amongst the pilings.

Malfoy stepped into the water and sat down, peering through the glass to admire the fish. Low lights lit the deck and kept Harry from tripping down the stairs. He handed Malfoy a glass and then joined him in the water, sitting near enough to touch, but not close enough to warrant comment.

They both sipped the wine and said nothing. Harry leaned back with a groan, soaking in the delicious heat.

"Shouldn't it have bubbles?" Malfoy asked.

Harry opened his eyes and looked around for instructions, which were written on a metal card attached to a post behind Malfoy's head. A single word triggered the spell and the tub fairly exploded into motion. Harry grinned. "Bubbles, your Majesty."

"Stuff it, Potter."

Harry smiled. He took off his glasses and set them next to the tub, even though the Impervious Charm prevented them from fogging up. He and Malfoy remained in the tub, drinking wine, but saying nothing, until Harry started to feel boiled alive.

"I need to cool off," he admitted and left the water to walk to the edge of the deck. He stepped off and plunged into the cooler lagoon. It was a bit of a shock to his overheated skin, but felt refreshing once his body adjusted. He surfaced just in time to receive a face full of water as Malfoy joined him. When Malfoy's head broke through the water next to him a moment later, Harry said, "I don't think the Insect Repelling Charms extend this far."

Malfoy nodded and waved off a hoard of mosquitoes before sinking back beneath the water and swimming to the ladder attached to the deck. Harry followed.

He admired Malfoy's arse as they climbed. "How do Muggles deal with ravenous insects?" Malfoy asked. He grabbed a white towel from the covered chest near the ladder and handed one to Harry.

"I don't know. Some sort of repelling ointment, perhaps?"

"Poor Muggles."

Harry's lips quirked. "Sympathy for Muggles? You are a surprise, Mr Malfoy."

"Sympathy for Muggles was hammered into me during Auror Training, as you well know," Malfoy said, towelling off his hair, which looked far more adorable in a mussed wreck than should have been possible. "I need a comb."

"Inside, on the table."

Malfoy took the stairs after picking up his wineglass and dropping the towel over a nearby railing. Harry retrieved his own glass and followed. "Why did you become an Auror?" he asked, realizing he had never bothered to find out.

"To annoy everyone, at first," Malfoy admitted, disappearing into the dark bungalow. "But later... I was surprised to find I enjoyed it."

Harry entered the room, which was only dimly lit by a row of candles on one wall near the bed. He intended to set his glass on the dressing table, but Malfoy snatched up the comb and turned back so quickly that Harry walked into him. Wine tipped from Harry's glass and splashed on Malfoy's chest.

"Sorry," Harry said and lifted his other hand to wipe at the liquid, catching the droplets before they trickled down to Malfoy's left nipple. Shocked at his own temerity, Harry raised his fingers to his mouth and licked the wine away, locking his eyes with Malfoy's as he did so.

"Fuck," Malfoy said on a breath and then his hand was in Harry's hair, gripping tightly, and their lips crushed together. Malfoy lapped at him, as if trying to remove every trace of wine from Harry's lips, and Harry let him, opening up to allow access to his tongue, which gleefully returned the favour by sliding into Malfoy's mouth.

It was brilliant. Probably crazy, possibly wrong, but altogether amazingly brilliant. Harry's pent-up frustration seemed to unleash itself. His hand cupped the back of Malfoy's neck, tucking into the soft hair at his nape while his other hand stretched out, hoping to place his wineglass on the nearby table. He felt resistance and heard the bump of glass against wood, so he let go, only to hear a crash as the wineglass hit the plank floor and shattered.

Harry barely noticed. Hands free of encumbrances, they began to roam over Malfoy's skin, sliding over his muscular back and feeling the curves and valleys he had been dying to touch for days.

The gentle flicks of Malfoy's tongue inside his mouth ignited heat that threatened to burn him alive. One of Malfoy's hands curved over his arse cheek and pulled him closer, tearing a gasp from Harry and causing him to stare at Malfoy in dazed surprise.

"Do you want to... stop?" Malfoy asked, sounding less than confident and just as astonished as Harry felt.

"God, no. Do you?"

For answer, Malfoy crushed their lips together once more, hand still locked in Harry's hair in a grip that was slightly painful but altogether erotic. It was something of a revelation to Harry that apparently he liked it a bit rough, which Malfoy seemed more than willing to accommodate. The point was driven home when Malfoy squeezed his arse once more and shifted his hips forward to bring Harry's growing hardness into contact with Malfoy's erection. The jolt of sensation was electrifying.

Gasping for breath, Harry tore his lips from Malfoy's, but he wasn't given a moment to think when Malfoy's hot breath and, oh god, his teeth, ghosted over Harry's throat. A gentle nip tugged the skin where Harry's neck became his shoulder and his fingers tightened convulsively on Malfoy's back.

He bites, Harry thought dazedly and then pushed his hands over Malfoy's damp flesh, lower and lower, until they reached the waistband of Malfoy's shorts. Harry prized the fabric away with his thumbs, trying to ignore the gentle bites Malfoy trailed over his neck, or the hardness pressing against his groin. His hands dipped beneath the fabric and gripped Malfoy's arse, digging his fingers in and grinding his hips forward in the same motion.

Malfoy made a guttural sound and shifted his feet.

"Wait!" Harry said.

"Hmmm?" Malfoy's response was lethargic, and his fingers moved over Harry's arse as though seeking a way inside.

"Glass. On the floor."

"Bed," Malfoy said and managed to sound both uncertain and confident in a single word.

Harry took a careful step in that direction and Malfoy did the same. They broke apart, but not completely. Harry kept one hand on Malfoy's waist and the warm touch on his arse remained, even as Malfoy's other hand detached from his hair.

When they reached the bed, however, Malfoy turned and sprawled upon it, looking gorgeous in the dim light from the candles. His hair was beginning to curl as it dried. Harry crawled onto the bed and straddled him. He looked down and smiled with one hand on each side of Malfoy's head. In the next moment, his mind went completely blank when Malfoy's hand cupped his erection. Malfoy's thumb stroked over the crown, sensitive even through the barrier of the shorts.

"These need to come off." Malfoy's fingers hooked into the edge of Harry's waistband and snapped it back.

"Yeah," Harry said and then held his breath as Malfoy gripped the material in both fists and shoved it downward. The clingy, wet fabric was difficult to escape, so he used one hand at a time to help Malfoy, until at last it reached his calves and could be kicked away with a couple of jerks of his feet. "Yours, too," Harry said and pulled at Malfoy's shorts. He obligingly lifted his hips to allow Harry to yank them off.

When Malfoy's clothes joined Harry's on the floor, Harry paused before regaining his position, needing to look his fill at Malfoy, finally completely exposed. His cock was a thing of beauty, long, straight, and surprisingly thick. Harry wanted to touch it, so he reached out tentatively and stroked his fingers lightly along the length. Malfoy's breath hitched. With a surge of lust, Harry wrapped his hand around it and stroked experimentally. Malfoy tipped his head back and arched his back slightly -- a good sign. Harry stroked harder and then slipped his hand down to cup and squeeze Malfoy's balls the way he liked to do his own. He tugged them lightly and Malfoy groaned.

"God. How long, Potter?"

Harry wasn't certain what he meant and didn't feel like asking for clarification. Instead, he bent down and pressed his lips to Malfoy's cock. His skin was cool with a leftover chill from the water, and velvety soft. Harry pressed open-mouthed kisses along the vein, feeling a strange mixture of awe and nervousness as he reached the crown and pushed his tongue against the curved ridge.

A hand curled in Harry's hair again and tightened when Harry wrapped his lips around the head in order to flick his tongue against it. The act was not horrifying, as he had expected. It wasn't bad at all, actually, and he suddenly wanted to see how much he could take.

He sucked Malfoy's cock in, pulling it deeper and deeper, until it triggered his gag reflex and he pulled away abruptly with a choking noise, eyes going wide.

Malfoy chuckled. "All right, you've never done that before, have you?"

Harry shook his head and Malfoy dragged him forward by his hair to crush their lips together. Harry kissed him and gasped into his mouth as Malfoy's hand returned to his cock, unencumbered by fabric this time. He stroked several times, very lightly, just a tease, until Harry bucked into his hand, seeking more friction.

Malfoy chuckled wickedly and tightened his grip. "Come here, virgin boy."

"I'm no virgin," Harry growled.

"You might as well be. Don't worry, I like it. I quite like the idea of touching Harry Potter the way no one else ever has."

The words were like a blow. Harry pulled away, but Malfoy held his cock and squeezed, holding him in place. "Is that what this is? Just a game? A conquest?"

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "No. I didn't mean it that way. I meant..." Malfoy sighed and pulled him into another kiss, gently this time, teasing the tension away from Harry's mouth until he surrendered.

"You'll just have to trust me," Malfoy murmured. "All right?"

"That's not so easy, you know?" Harry replied softly, following it with a moan because Malfoy's hand had been busy the whole time and delicious quivers were travelling through his nerve endings, turning him into a panting wreck.

"Yes, but we have to start somewhere. And we've been a bloody brilliant team so far, don't you think?"

Harry was rapidly approaching the point where he would agree to anything, so long as Malfoy continued doing that. He gasped brokenly as Malfoy's nails dragged over his testicles.

"Yes," Harry murmured in a near-whimper. "God, yes."

"I'm not sure if that was an answer to my question or simply a reaction to this," Malfoy said and repeated the motion. Harry kissed him to shut him up and then reached for Malfoy's cock to apply some of his own torment. Soon the kissing degenerated into rough panting into each other's mouths, followed by quick swipes with wet tongues, and an occasional nip on one lip or another.

Harry's palm dragged over Malfoy's cock and he raised his head to look at the bedside table. "Accio, lotion!" he said, letting go of Malfoy's erection long enough to catch the fancy-looking bottle.

"Very clever, Potter. And wandless. I'm impressed."

"Shush, you," Harry said and flipped the cap with his thumb before shaking some of the silken liquid onto Malfoy's chest before smearing it over his fingers. The rich scent of coconut filled the room. Harry rubbed his hand in it and then returned to stroking Malfoy's cock, which slipped through his fingers easily. He quickened the pace, twisting the shaft and plucking at the crown as he swirled his fingertips over it.

Malfoy made a startled groan and grabbed the lotion to pour some into his hand. "Someone has been wanking."

Harry made a noise of agreement. "Nice to know all those lonely nights haven't gone to waste."

Malfoy's hand wrapped around his cock and although it had been a delicious, slow build, it became a competition. Each of them stroked and rubbed and twisted, determined to bring the other off first. Their knuckles banged together one too many times and finally Malfoy opened his grip and reached around both their cocks. Harry followed suit and it was so much better, sliding their hands in unison, or discord when one felt like being contrary.

Harry's breath panted against Malfoy's neck. God, he was so close. He needed to hold off a bit longer -- Malfoy's other hand left Harry's hair and wrapped around his balls before sliding back to tease over Harry's hole.

"Fuck!" Harry muttered and pressed his face into Malfoy's neck to muffle his cry as he came. His vision went dark and he heard nothing but a roaring in his ears as the orgasm exploded through him. Suddenly it made sense why the French called it "little death" -- he wasn't sure he could survive.

Malfoy cried out and then his teeth sank into Harry's shoulder, savagely, biting as he quivered beneath Harry, who dimly recognized it as one of the hottest things ever. He collapsed on Malfoy's chest, not minding the accumulated lotion and come smearing between them.

Malfoy tugged his hands free and ran them over Harry's back. Harry's hand had moved to Malfoy's hip and curled there, thumb stroking gently over the hollow of Malfoy's hipbone. His other hand brushed against Malfoy's shoulder, tingling from holding his weight during his exertions.

Harry slowly came down from his euphoric high, feeling languid and catlike, especially with Malfoy caressing his back. Even so, he was getting chilled by the breeze allowed in by the open door. He rolled away from Malfoy and started to get off the bed, but Malfoy caught his wrist and dragged him back. His expression was oddly intense and Harry smiled.

"I'm just closing the door and grabbing our wands." He leaned down and pressed a kiss against Malfoy's lips before pushing away and heading toward the patio.

"Mind the glass," Malfoy warned.

Harry froze. He nodded. "Wands first," he said. "Accio wand!" It snapped into his hand, damp from his sodden shorts, and he used it to retrieve Malfoy's, which he tossed over the bed. Malfoy snatched it out of the air.

Harry used a quick Cleaning Charm to sweep all the glass bits into a pile, and then tried a Reparo to see if the glass could be fixed. It looked whole enough in the darkness, so he set it on the dressing table next to Malfoy's and then spelled the door shut and locked.

Malfoy had already cleaned himself up and was seated on the edge of the bed. Harry walked over and gestured to his abdomen. "I'm crap at skin Cleaning Charms. Do you think you could...?"

Malfoy nodded and cast. A gentle tingle rushed over his skin, eradicating all traces of lotion, semen, and sweat. He made a note to have Malfoy teach him that particular spell.

"I should go," Malfoy said and got to his feet.

"Don't," Harry said.

"What?"

"Don't go." Surprisingly, the words didn't sound foolish, at least to Harry, and he reached out to curl a hand around Malfoy's neck before leaning in for another kiss. He figured kissing Malfoy was something he could do regularly and never get at all bored with.

"Okay," Malfoy said.

Harry smiled and dragged the blankets back to climb into the bed. He scooted over to make room for Malfoy, who joined him, dragging the covers back up around them.

They lay silently for a moment, watching one another, and then Harry shifted closer, dropped an arm over Malfoy, and snuggled against Malfoy's chest with a satisfied sigh.

"You're a cuddler?" Malfoy murmured. "Why is this not a surprise?"

Harry dragged his teeth over Malfoy's skin in a warning almost-bite. "Go to sleep."

Malfoy sighed, wrapped his arms around Harry, and did so.



Draco woke up feeling strangely comfortable and warm. He was getting used to awakening with a sense of disorientation, thanks to all the travelling and strange, uncomfortable beds, but this felt like paradise. When he opened his eyes to take in his surroundings, he realized it was paradise.

He was in Harry Potter's bed. And he was wrapped around Harry Potter. His chin was nestled against Potter's neck and soft curls tickled his face as he breathed. His arm was draped over Potter's ribs and his buttocks rested firmly against Draco's groin -- a very promising position, indeed.

Draco lifted his head to try and gauge the time. It seemed early, hopefully early enough to avoid a blaring wakeup call from Jordan. Satisfied, he dropped his head back to the pillow and let his hand roam over Potter's flat abdomen. The hero was a marvel and Draco had a hard time believing it wasn't all some elaborate dream. It was difficult to accept that Potter wanted him.

Draco wrapped a hand around Potter's flaccid cock and slid his fingers along the length before returning to the base and repeating the motion. After a few strokes, the soft flesh began to harden. Potter made a soft huff and turned toward Draco. Still asleep, Draco noted with a grin, but not for long.

Still stroking, Draco shifted away and moved beneath the covers. Potter unconsciously rolled onto his back to Draco's coaxing touch. Draco put his lips over Potter's cock and wet the warm shaft with his tongue, licking his way up and sucking at the head before cupping Potter's balls and rolling them in his fingers.

Potter made an unintelligible sound, muffled by the blankets. His hips moved upward, driving the tip of his cock into the roof of Draco's mouth. The motion spurred Draco to more elaborate efforts and he moved faster, tonguing the vein and alternating with suction.

The blankets jerked away suddenly, allowing Draco some much-needed fresh air.

"Oh god," Potter said. "If this is a dream, please don't let me wake up."

Draco didn't bother to stop; he just tipped his head until he locked eyes with Potter and winked. Potter's head fell back against the pillows and his hands moved down to touch Draco's head gently.

Once awake, Potter came rather quickly, pumping into Draco's throat in a stream that was surprisingly sweet. Knowing Potter, his flavour probably resulted from a steady diet of treacle tart.

Draco released him with a smug grin and then crawled upward to share the taste with Potter, morning breath notwithstanding.

"That was brilliant," Potter said when he pulled away.

"I know," Draco said and laughed when Potter pinched him.

"Egotist. But in this case, well warranted."

"Flatterer. You just want a repeat."

"I'll certainly never say no to that," Potter admitted. "And I think you deserve the same treatment." With that, Potter rolled him over and sprawled partially atop him before kissing a path over Draco's throat and torso, moving quickly lower until he reached his destination.

He threw Draco a wicked look and then took Draco's already-hard cock into his mouth. Potter's inexperience was evident -- several times he nearly gagged, but in a typically Gryffindor fashion, it seemed to make him more determined to take Draco even deeper and suck even harder. Draco knew it wouldn't be long before Potter was just as good at sucking cock as he was at everything else. The very thought made Draco hot -- and just a bit annoyed at the idea of Potter doing it to anyone but him.

Draco curled both hands into Potter's hair and tugged downward while thrusting. Potter nearly choked and sent Draco a warning glare, along with a tiny scrape from his teeth. Draco chuckled and relented, although he didn't remove his grip from Potter's hair.

Potter's tongue swirled over the crown once more and then he sucked like it was the finest lolly he had ever tasted -- and Draco exploded, partially in Potter's mouth and partially over his lips and chin.

"Fuck!" Potter said, although he didn't seem irritated, but rather somewhat awed. "That was incredibly..."

"Rude?" Draco finished. "Sorry about that. I didn't expect you to be quite so good at this."

"I was going to say hot, actually," Potter finished, wiping his mouth with his fingers and then licking away a drop he'd missed. Draco's cock twitched and gave up a final spurt that hit Potter on the throat. "I am?"

Seeing Potter glistening with his come was doing strange things to Draco's insides. It was incredible that the idiot had no idea how ridiculously attractive he was. Draco thought back to the times when both women and men had been clustered around Potter, vying for attention, and Potter looking oblivious to it all and slightly uncomfortable. He knew Potter thought they only wanted him due to his celebrity status, but Draco knew differently. The man was fucking gorgeous.

Draco dragged him upward by his hair, earning a surprised yelp, and then kissed and licked every bit of flavour from his mouth and face. Potter had a dazed look by the time Draco was finished and his hands were beginning to roam again. Draco was almost ready for a second round when a card popped into the room, followed quickly by a second. Both of them opened like Howlers and began to blare Lee Jordan's preferred annoying wake-up music, just out of synch enough to be more maddening than usual.

"Fuck," Draco said.

"I don't think we have time," Potter replied.

Draco laughed to cover his astonishment. He cupped Potter's face. "Later, then?" he asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"Yeah." Potter nodded solemnly, his jaw shifting in Draco's hands. "Yeah, later for sure."

"Shower with me?" Draco asked instead of trying to find a response to Potter's amazing affirmation.

"Brilliant idea." Potter's smile lit up the room.



The shower took much longer than Harry had intended, mostly due to his inability to keep his hands away from Malfoy's soap-smeared wet body. And vice-versa, apparently. By the time they finished another mutually-assisted wank under the guise of washing up, they had to rush through the remainder of their toilette.

"My clothes are still in my room," Malfoy muttered as he tugged on his shorts from the previous night. They were clean and dry thanks to a judicious application of Cleaning and Drying Charms, but he still needed to get back to his own bungalow to change.

"I'll stop by yours and toss everything back into the knapsack, yeah?" Harry asked. "I doubt they'll let us stay another night." He looked around wistfully, knowing he would always have beautiful memories of Bora Bora.

"We should come back after this race nonsense is finished," Malfoy said casually.

Harry's heart leaped, but he strove to remain casual. "Yeah, we'll need a vacation." He went to the door, opened it, and peered out. It was early enough that no one seemed to be stirring. None of their fellow competitors were in evidence. He turned back to look at Malfoy. "Coast is clear, I think."

Malfoy frowned and nodded, then walked to the door. Harry stepped back to let him pass, but Malfoy paused on the portal. He reached up and pulled Harry into a quick, passionate kiss. Before Harry was quite ready, Malfoy broke the kiss and strode away, leaving Harry staring after him with a bemused, and quite possibly smitten, expression. He watched until Malfoy traversed the pier and disappeared into his own bungalow before closing the door and returning to his packing.



"For our next challenge, our final three teams will be allowed to keep their wands!"

There was a collective sigh of relief amongst the competitors, but Hermione said, "That sounds ominous."

"Well, one thing Malfoy is good at is magic," Ron said grudgingly.

Ginny gasped. "Was that a compliment? For Malfoy?"

"It was just a comment!" Ron snapped. Still, he had been trying to change his mindset in regards to Malfoy. Just in case Harry... Well, that still didn't bear thinking about.

"Rita Skeeter looks particularly smug," Luna commented.

"She's probably planning to cheat," Hermione muttered.

"Participants, get ready to learn a new spell!" Lee Jordan's voice was positively giddy.

"Oh boy," Ron said. Although he was getting better, Harry was no Hermione when it came to new spells.

"He'll be fine," Hermione said confidently, although Ron saw her bite her lip. He put a hand on her thigh and patted and she threw him a soft look and covered his hand with hers.

"Yeah, he'll be fine."



"This is pants," Harry muttered as the door of the cage closed and the heavy lock clicked shut.

"You're locked in a cage with me. How bad can it be?" Malfoy's voice was teasing and Harry grinned at him. He decided he very much liked this teasing version of Malfoy, even though Harry was having more trouble concentrating than usual, thanks to the sexy timbre of Malfoy's voice.

"You're not helping," Harry gritted.

"Surely the mighty Saviour can cast a simple little Unlocking Charm?"

"It's hardly simple!" Harry protested.

The challenge was easy enough, he supposed. Each team had been secured in a sturdy cage made of reed bars. On the floor of the cage sat a small wooden puzzle box, inside of which was the key that opened the cage lock. The first team to find the key and free themselves would win. The last team would be out.

Opening the box required application of a spell they had just learned, one that was used by the local law enforcement. Harry thought it might come in handy on the job, if he could manage to master it. As soon as they had all successfully cast it once, they had been locked into the cages.

"There are six pieces to the puzzle," Malfoy said, already turning the carved wooden box over in his hands. "Do you want to start?"

They were each required to open three sections. Any attempt to use a different spell would set off an alarm and the team would be disqualified.

"No, I do not."

Malfoy threw him a sardonic look and cast. "Alouverta fortis!"

Nothing happened. Harry thought he might have to snap his wrist just a bit more at the end. Malfoy must have decided the same, because his second try caused one section of the box to open up.

"Yes!" Harry cried.



The wand was slick with sweat in Harry's hand by the time he cast for the last time and the final panel slid open to reveal a small brass key.

"You did it!" Malfoy murmured as Harry snatched up the key and let the box fall. Malfoy's hand squeezed his shoulder and they both laughed for a moment.

"Don't let me drop the key in the sand," Harry warned.

"You'd better give me that," Malfoy said and plucked it from Harry's fingers. He didn't mind; his hands were shaking.

A quick glance showed the other two still inside their cages, although a yelp from Brendan might mean they had some competition with getting the lock open.

"Hurry!" Harry murmured.

"Hurrying," Malfoy replied in a singsong tone. He threaded his arms through the bars and tried to contort them enough to get at the lock.

Harry watched the others nervously, although judging by Rita's frenzied movements, she and Gertrude had not managed to completely open their box. Nigel was at the gate, however, jimmying with the lock. It was a race to see who could open it first.

Come on, come on, come on, Harry willed silently, but he said nothing so as not to distract Malfoy, who seemed incredibly calm as he gently turned the key. Harry heard a click and then his partner's fingers opened the lock, pulled it free, and shoved the gate open, moments before Nigel did the same.

"And the Auror Team wins!" Lee screamed.

Harry whooped, laughed aloud, and threw himself atop Malfoy, hugging him around the neck. Malfoy chuckled and gripped Harry's wrists. "Down, Potter."

"Yeah, okay," Harry said and disentangled himself reluctantly. "That was close."

"I never had any doubt," Malfoy replied.



"The Dragon Tamers have come in second, which means we will have to say goodbye to our Reporter Team of Rita Skeeter and Gertrude Acrimony. Well done, girls! You made it amazingly far here on The Incredible Race!"

"Fuck yeah!" Ron yelled, leaping to his feet.

"Ron!" Hermione gasped.

Ron coughed. "Sorry. But Rita is out! Out! Out! Out!"

"She's not the only one," Ginny said, staring at the screen with wide eyes.

Ron frowned and followed her gaze. His jaw dropped when the screen was filled with a grainy image of what was obviously Harry kissing Draco Malfoy.

Lee Jordan was talking, though Ron barely registered the words. "As you can see, romance seems to have developed here on The Incredible Race. Will it give our Auror Team an advantage? You be the judge."

The image disappeared to show Rita Skeeter and Gertrude Acrimony seated on a comfortable-looking sofa next to Lee Jordan, obviously footage shot more recently than the race itself.

"Rita, you are the one who took the photos of Aurors Potter and Malfoy. Can you tell the audience why you felt it necessary to invade their privacy?" Lee's voice was only slightly incriminating. Ron thought the prat was probably secretly amused. Everything amused Lee Jordan.

"I don't see it as an invasion of privacy at all!" Rita protested. "As you can see, they were standing outside Auror Potter's bungalow in broad daylight. If they intended their relationship to be a secret, perhaps they should not have been so blatant."

"And I think it's obvious from the early hour that Auror Malfoy did not bother to visit his own quarters that night," Gertrude put forth with a snigger.

Ron clenched his fists.

"Those horrid bitches!" Hermione cried.

"It was a lucky coincidence that my photoglobe caught the picture at all," Rita said in a faux-innocent tone. "I had set it to take a photo of the morning sunrise and it was simply hovering there and waiting to be recalled."

"She's lying!" Ron snapped.

Hermione sat down with a heavy sigh. "Most likely, but we can't prove it. The damage is done, at any rate. Even if we expose her little secret now, the kneazle can't be put back into the bag."

Lee kept talking. "Even though you took this footage in Tahiti, the Auror Team has no idea it exists?"

Rita shook her head. "No. In fact, no one knew until today. Do to the non-compete agreement we signed with the studio, we were not allowed to reveal it until this episode aired. Just think, Lee Jordan, you are part of history now. The Potter Expose'." Rita smiled at him smugly, but for once Lee did not look amused.

"Why is this a bad thing? Harry seems very happy," Luna said.

Ron snorted. "Happy with Malfoy," he muttered. "Imagine."

"I think we're about to find out why it's a bad thing," Hermione replied with her eyes on the window. Ron turned to see owls clustered upon the sill and more flying in the distance.

"Do you think Harry is getting owls, too?" Ginny asked. "It's so annoying that we can't see him until the final episode is shown."

Ron frowned. "Let me get this straight. Rita filmed this in Bora Bora and was booted out. So Harry didn't know about this until just now. He's probably watching it just like us."

Hermione nodded, gnawing her lip and looking at the owls clustering on the windowsill. "I suppose I should let them in."

"So Harry went into the next part of the race without even knowing Rita was going to expose him and Malfoy?"

"Yes, Ron. I suppose we should see what Harry's fans -- or anti-fans -- have to say." She moved to the window to start collecting the messages. Ron waited with a sour expression. Poor Harry. But Malfoy? He shook his head and wished his friend had better taste in men.



"More Portkeys." Potter groaned and rolled his eyes.

"At least we're not traversing half the globe this time."

"Weren't we just in Nepal?"

"I think that was Romania."

"Same difference. There are mountains, right?"

"I think you were spoiled by the beach just a bit."

"I miss the beach already."

"We haven't left."

Potter sighed and scowled. Draco realized he looked adorable when he was in a petulant mood, but in typical Gryffindor fashion -- or perhaps just Potter fashion -- he shook it off. "Oh well. At least Rita Skeeter is gone. That's good, right?"

"Very good," Draco agreed. She had been acting strangely that morning, being extra nice to them both and even bidding Potter a good morning. Draco did not trust her, but now she was gone, so he supposed he could relax.

The Portkey journey to Nepal was nearly a reverse of the method they had used to get to Bora Bora, but there were thankfully fewer delays. It only took them two hours to get to Kathmandu from Papeete, although they left Bora Bora at 4pm and arrived in the Nepalese city at ten o' clock in the morning. The travel lag was going to be terrific by evening.

Lee Jordan met them at the Portkey office in Kathmandu, although how he always managed to reach their destination ahead of them was annoying puzzlement. Draco supposed prearranged Portkeys made all the difference. By the time they reached Nepal, their funds were seriously depleted.

"It's a bloody good thing this is the final bit," Draco told Potter. "We only have 20 Galleons left."

Potter gnawed his lip, an activity that Draco wanted to take over for him. The idea must have been evident on Draco's face, because Potter met his eyes and blushed, making Draco grin wickedly. Potter stammered and then caught himself. "I hope we don't have to purchase much more or we'll be peddling our belongings on the street."

"Peddling my belongings, you mean? I don't think anyone would want yours."

Potter nudged him with an elbow, but Jordan began to speak. "Welcome to Kathmandu! You will be glad to know that there will be no challenges today and, in fact, you will have some time on your own in this amazing city for sightseeing and whatnot. We only suggest that you don't get lost or get into any trouble. As added incentive, we are keeping your wands so that you may interact as simple Muggle tourists."

Draco rolled his eyes, but Potter only shrugged.

"We will first journey to the Hotel Saundar, which has graciously sponsored this leg of The Incredible Race. Be warned that it is largely a Muggle hotel and behave accordingly."

"Difficult to hex them without our wands," Draco muttered and Potter poked him with an elbow again.

"The hotel is only a short walk from here, so if you will follow me, we will check you in and then your afternoon is your own. You will be responsible for your own meals and incidentals today, so spent thriftily. Tomorrow morning will begin the final challenge, so it would behove you to turn in early. I expect you all to gather in the hotel lobby at 6am to begin the next leg of our exciting competition."

Four voices protested the earliness of the hour, but Jordan only held up a hand with an irritating grin and beckoned them to follow.

The streets of the city were narrow, crowded insanity. The foot traffic was immense and the primary means of travel, other than walking, was by bicycle. Mobile peddlers carried great baskets of fruit, hawking their wares as they parked in the street before moving on. Potter was agog at the huge loads carried by many travellers, hefted on their backs with a single strap around their foreheads. Draco saw one man walking with three massive boxes upon his back, his calves and thighs straining with effort. His feet were bare.

Another man threaded the crowd with a tray full of coconuts perched upon his head and a gigantic tureen in the centre. He walked with casual grace, not touching the tray with either hand, calling out to patrons as they passed.

"Amazing," Potter muttered.

As they entered the milling crowd, Draco stuck close to Potter. The sea of humanity, coupled with the narrow streets and overshadowing buildings, led to an immediate feeling of claustrophobia.

Muggle cars appeared now and then, honking pathetically, trying to urge the pedestrians to move aside and let them pass, but few of the walkers acknowledged them at all.

"This is crazy!" Potter said and wrapped a hand around Draco's wrist to pull him out of the path of a motorbike. "Oh shit, let's not lose sight of Lee. We'll be lost forever." He pushed through the crowd, not letting go of Draco.

Thankfully, the hotel was only a short jaunt, masked from Muggle eyes by masquerading as a souvenir boutique, complete with colourful t-shirts that said MY RELATIVES WENT TO KATHMANDU AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY T-SHIRT. Draco knew all of his relatives would rather die a slow, gruesome death than be seen wearing the garish monstrosity.

Once through the fake wall in the back room, Draco breathed a sigh of relief. The noise, the crowd, and his sense of being strangled diminished instantly upon entry into the cool marble lobby of the hotel. A peaceful fountain splashed to their right and spelled windows showed a lovely, if fake, view of a palm-lined garden and still pool.

Jordan checked them in, gave them a few final admonishments, and warned that the Watcherbees would be actively filming them until the local time of 4 pm, in order to provide some interesting footage for the final show when it aired. They were taken to separate rooms and Draco sat on the bed and looked dismally around his colourful room. It was nice enough, he supposed, even though his room did not adjoin with Potter's.

As if called by his thoughts, there was a knock on the door and Draco opened it to admit his sheepish-looking partner.

"Want to come sightseeing with me?" Potter asked with a grin.

Not many things could have dragged Draco back into the manic streets of the Nepalese city, but Potter's hopeful look had no trouble persuading him. Draco worried about his sanity now that one smile from Potter could cause him to do very stupid things.

Cognizant of the lurking Watcherbees that tracked their every movement while remaining hidden from Muggle eyes, Draco and Potter threaded through Kathmandu and headed for the shopping district.

Potter was like a kid in a sweet shop. He goggled at nearly every display, from the colourful fabrics whipping in the wind to the street-side butchers hacking up cuts of unidentifiable meat. They both shuddered at the lack of hygienic concerns -- the meat lay in the dirt of the street and the vendors' hands were coated in half-dried bloody grime.

Paper goods were everywhere, as were prayer wheels and flags, hats and jackets and jumpers made of wool, khukuri knives, and jewellery of every sort. Most unusual were the string puppets and masks.

They made their way to Durbar Square, which was actually a multitude of squares linked together, and located with assistance of one of the brochures Potter had snagged from the hotel. Once there, Potter challenged him to a race up the steep steps of a pagoda temple. Potter won -- barely -- but laughed so hard because of the other tourists staring at them that Draco could only laugh with him.

They wandered to another temple that was filled with pigeons and an occasional wandering cow. Draco had a good time pointing out erotic carvings to Potter, most of which alluded to threesomes or moresomes, much to Potter's astonishment.

At one point, Potter stood with his forearms resting on a railing, looking at a pure white temple that lay in the centre of a calm pool while Draco watched him. Potter stood transfixed for so long that Draco thought he might have been entranced. He debated waving a hand before Potter's face and then Potter's green eyes swung to his and he smiled wryly.

"Before this competition, I'd never really been anywhere," Potter admitted. "Outside Britain, I mean."

Draco slung an arm around his neck in what he hoped seemed a friendly fashion. "I can tell," he said. He wanted to say more, but he was cognizant of the surveillance spell following them, so he only scrubbed his knuckles through Potter's hair. "Come on. Let's see if this place has any decent tea."

Potter quickly checked his paper guide and led Draco on a roundabout route to a rooftop tea shop run by a cheerful Irish witch named Cleona. She poured them local chiya tea and sat down with them, chattering happily about Nepal and soaking in news from home, making even Draco feel nostalgic. She had been in Kathmandu for four years, after marrying a Nepalese man she had met on holiday.

The cafŽ had a stunning view of the Himalayas, gleaming white in the distance and slowly turning orange as the sun set. Cleona leaned toward them and patted Potter's hand. "If you two like dancing, you should go to the Disco Underground. You can even dance with each other and no one will bat an eye." She winked and got to her feet. "I'll write the directions for you dears, just in case."

Potter blinked at him. "Are we that obvious?"

Draco smiled lazily. The Watcherbee had dissipated twenty minutes prior -- Draco had become adept at spotting them and had kept half an eye on it. He and Potter were now officially on their own time and Draco planned to make the most of it. "Well, you have been ogling me most of the day."

Potter flushed and took a gulp of his tea. "Sorry, I..." He leaned forward and smiled disarmingly before whispering, "I can't help thinking about last night."

Draco's grin faltered. The words had sent an explosive rush of heat through his midsection. In truth, he had thought of little else, himself. Even Potter's touristy delight hadn't diminished Draco's desire to shove him up against a temple wall and snog him senseless.

"Want to go check out this club?" Draco asked, striving for casual.

"Like a date?"

Draco rolled his eyes. Trust Potter to make it difficult. "Is it necessary to quantify this... thing between us?"

"Quantify? What does that even mean?"

Cleona's return prevented Draco making an even bigger fool of himself and she waved off Draco's attempt at payment while pressing a bit of parchment into his hand. "Be off with you. It was worth a bit of tea for news from home. Good luck to you, boys." She insisted they each take a small cake she called "peda" and gazed at them fondly as they left the shop.

"That was a bit surreal," Draco said and bit into the pale cake. It had a smooth texture and tasted of pistachio.

Potter ate half of his and gave the rest to Draco. "I'm really starting to miss treacle tart. And Yorkshire pudding."

Paper lanterns lit several businesses that were still open. The street traffic had thinned and the pace seemed more sedate. Music blared from several venues and the bright signs gleaming between flags were more distracting than they had been in the daylight.

After some puzzling over Cleona's directions, and due to the fact that most of the streets in Kathmandu had neither names nor numbers, they finally reached a door with a sign that read, FOREIGN TAX OFFICE.

Potter snorted. "Hiding in plain sight, yeah?"

Draco chuckled. "Not many people would willingly enter a tax office." The door was unlocked and when they pushed inside, a man behind a single counter stared at them from beneath bushy brows without bothering to ask their business.

"Um... Disco Underground?" Potter asked.

The man stood up and looked them over for a moment before slapping a wand on the counter with a bang. He said something unintelligible. At their blank stare, he sighed and tried again. "Light wand," he said in English.

Draco figured it out and walked forward to pick up the wand. "Lumos!" he said. Although sluggish, light gleamed from the tip of the wand.

The man nodded as if satisfied, took the wand back, and gestured toward the wall with it. A door appeared and opened of its own accord. The man sat down once more, ignoring them. Draco walked forward and pulled it open to reveal a set of rickety-looking wooden steps that led down to another door. The muffled sound of music thumped through the door.

"After you," Draco said and Potter tromped down the stairs.

Opening the second door nearly deafened them. It was practically pitch-dark in the place, except for brightly coloured swirling globes floating around a dance floor. Against one wall sat a bar and several tables with tall stools decorated spots near the other walls.

Potter made a beeline to a table nearest the door and grinned at Draco. "I'll get us a drink, yeah?" Without waiting for an answer, he trotted off. Draco sighed and sat down before turning to watch the dancers. Most of them seemed to be in their teens or early twenties. The music was a curious mixture of traditional Nepalese and rock n' roll. Both boys and girls gyrated with abandon, but at least two couples were same sex -- two dark-haired boys were wrapped around each other and a pair of slender girls danced while holding hands.

Potter returned with two glasses. "The water isn't safe to drink here, so I opted for no ice. At least they have Ogden's."

Draco lifted his glass, which was filled nearly to the brim with amber liquid. Draco raised a brow at Potter, who sipped at his own glass. "Are you sure you're not trying to get me drunk?"

"Will it allow me to take advantage of you more quickly?" Potter asked teasingly.

Draco took a quick swallow lest he twitch and betray himself by spilling. The alcohol burned a welcome path down his throat. He set the glass down carefully. "Is that the plan, then?"

Potter's glass joined his and then he moved quickly around the table to place his lips close to Draco's ear. "Yes, it most assuredly is. Would you care to dance?" His fingers curled around Draco's wrist and his thumb stroked Draco's pulse point. The heat in Draco's veins made him wonder if the Firewhisky was working already. Potter stepped back and tugged. Draco allowed himself to be led onto the dance floor.

The other couples smiled at them and moved aside to give them room, displaying the same friendliness they had witnessed throughout the city. The song was quick at first, so they danced without touching. After the first few awkward moments, Draco lost himself in the music and found himself actually having fun. He seldom let himself go at home. He was always cognizant of his status, of who he was, of those who would look down upon him or his family, or those who would run to the gossip columns the moment he did anything remotely newsworthy.

But here he was only a faceless tourist. No one special. Not a former Death Eater turned Auror, and not someone who should never be allowed to socialize with Harry Potter.

The song slowed and Potter stepped forward to put his hands on Draco's hips, holding lightly as Draco swayed. Draco dropped his hands to Potter's shoulders and smiled seductively. For one night, in this place, Draco was free. He took a step forward in order to murmur in Potter's ear.

"Your plan seems to be working," he said and chuckled.

Potter's grip on his hips tightened almost painfully. "Just let me know when you're ready to go back to the hotel."

In the end, Draco was having far too much fun to abandon the dance floor, and Potter seemed more than willing to indulge him. They finished their first drink and had another before waving goodnight to their new friends and taking a rickshaw back to the hotel.



Harry pushed Malfoy back against the door and nibbled at his throat. Fuck, he'd been hard for an hour. Every teasing movement Malfoy had made had increased the pressure on Harry's cock until he'd been afraid he would have to go into the bathroom and rub one out just to let off some steam. But the thought of touching himself when there was a chance of Malfoy touching him was just too tantalizing to risk.

"Potter," Malfoy said around a gasp and arched into him. "We shouldn't do this here."

Harry made a noncommittal sound and fumbled for his room key with one hand while his other pulled Malfoy closer by his arse. He frowned when he tried to remember what sort of key they had given him. He remembered the stack of brochures and the small hallway directional guide...

"Your hand. It opens by touch," Malfoy murmured.

"Mmmm, do you?" Harry asked, feeling wicked and reckless and consumed with need.

"Fuck, Potter, just open the door before one of the bloody crew or fucking Nigel spots us."

Harry felt along the door -- albeit somewhat distracted by feeling along Malfoy at the same time -- until he found the smooth plate. He splayed his hand over it and the door unlocked with a click, triggered by his magical signature, apparently. Handy, that.

"I should install these at home," he said absently and pushed Malfoy through the door before shoving him up against it on the other side. He attacked Malfoy's mouth. Finally, god, it had been torture at the club. The venue might have been gay tolerant, but such things only extended so far. Public frotting and sometimes even snogging could draw wrath and it was best not to tempt fate in a foreign country.

But this, fuck it was worth the wait. Malfoy tasted of Firewhisky. After only two glasses Harry's head was spinning, but he figured that was mostly due to Malfoy, anyway. He unbuttoned Malfoy's shirt, being careful even though their kissing was frenzied and Malfoy's hands were already down Harry's pants -- oh god.

Before he reached the last button, Malfoy spun him around, using one hand on his hip and the other on his cock. Harry's trousers and pants had fallen to his knees and his t-shirt had been ricked up to expose his nipples. Harry watched, transfixed, as Malfoy dropped to his knees. Paper lanterns outside the window -- real or fake, Harry neither knew nor cared -- threw multicoloured patterns across Malfoy's pale hair. His eyes seemed huge and dark, locked with Harry's as his tongue painted a stripe over the head of his cock.

Malfoy grinned wickedly and then set about giving Harry the best blow job of his life. Harry hoped to fuck the doors were solid, because otherwise anyone walking by would know what they were doing by the sounds he made each time Malfoy's tongue did that and every time his cheeks hollowed like that...

"Stop, Malfoy, oh, stop. I don't want to come yet." Harry tugged lightly at Malfoy's hair, both wanting and not wanting him to continue.

"Yes, you do," Malfoy said, pausing only long enough to deliver the words before taking Harry into his throat. His fingers, wet with saliva, teased over Harry's arsehole. Harry cried out, quivered, and came.

Malfoy got to his feet and pressed his lips to Harry's. He still tasted faintly of Firewhisky, but also of Harry, and it was much more erotic than Harry would have expected. He tangled one hand roughly in Malfoy's blond hair and deepened the kiss. His other hand found the final button of Malfoy's shirt and slipped it through the loop before shoving the shirt back on his shoulders.

"Bed," Harry said, gasping. "I want you on the bed." To underscore his words, he gripped Malfoy's hips and walked him backward, stepping out of his own shoes and lower garments on the way. When Malfoy's legs hit the bed, Harry gave him a push and then climbed onto him as he fell, straddling his hips.

"How did I ever miss this?" Harry growled and attached his lips to Malfoy's for long minutes, unable to quite get enough even though he needed to get on with other things.

Malfoy finally dragged him away from his panting mouth with two fists in Harry's hair. "Miss... miss what?"

"Everything," Harry admitted. He kissed Malfoy's throat then, and his collarbones, and his chest, working his way downward. He couldn't really explain what he meant, but there suddenly seemed to be so much more to Draco Malfoy than he had ever guessed. The sense of lost time was keenly felt, all the more so when he wasn't sure how much they would have in the future.

Harry dropped to the floor and took off Malfoy's shoes before teasing his trousers off with caresses and random kisses, dropping them on Malfoy's thighs, knees, and calves.

"Potter," Malfoy said, but it sounded like a moan.

Harry stared to work Malfoy's pants off the same way. "You know," he said conversationally, "I think I'd like it if you called me Harry. At least while I'm sucking your cock, yeah?"

Malfoy levered himself up onto his elbows to gaze down at Harry with a bemused smile. "Do you plan to get on with that sometime this evening, then?"

Harry smirked and pulled the pants free of Malfoy's feet before settling between Malfoy's thighs. "I might," he said and wrapped one hand around Malfoy's cock to pull it into his mouth.

Malfoy dropped back onto the bed with a groan and one hand settled in Harry's hair. He felt a rush of delight at the sounds Malfoy made.

"I didn't quite hear that," Harry said between providing teasing licks to the underside of his cock.

"Harry. I said Harry, damn you."

"Oh, I like that. You deserve a reward." With that, Harry set about giving Malfoy the best blow job of his life. He hoped.

Regardless, he didn't think Malfoy would complain.



Draco arched his back and bit his lip after another cry tore from his lips, one that sounded suspiciously like Harry. In truth, saying the name was curiously erotic and seemed to only intensify the sensations quivering through his cock.

It also seemed to spur Potter on to higher levels of experimentation. He should have known the man would throw himself into the challenge of sucking cock with the same reckless determination with which he handled every situation.

Before he was quite ready, Draco felt his testicles tighten and then he was coming without managing even a single, strangled warning to Potter. To his credit, he barely broke his rhythm, faltering for only a moment before his throat worked and he swallowed everything Draco threw at him. Draco stared, realizing (not for the first time) that Harry Potter was truly amazing.

Potter looked up and him and wiped a hand across his mouth. "Okay?" he asked uncertainly.

Draco blinked at him for a moment and then realized the man had no clue. "Potter, you've given me wank material for the next six months. All I have to do is remember that and I'll be hard pressed not to come in my trousers." Draco snapped his jaw shut, thinking he might have said to much, handed Potter too much ammunition, but instead of calculation, Potter only gave him a shy smile and crawled up to lay beside him.

Draco turned to face him and he watched Potter watching him, with neither of them saying a word. Their hands, however, spoke volumes. One of Potter's hands was curled over Draco's hip, thumb caressing in gentle circles. The other rested beneath Draco's cheek, which would become uncomfortable before long, but at the moment the light touch felt extraordinarily intimate.

Draco's upper hand was still in Potter's hair, tangled around his fingers. His wrist rested on Potter's neck and Draco's thumb brushed over the shell of Potter's ear now and again, as if of its own volition. Draco's other hand lightly touched Potter's chest, not moving. He resisted caressing, barely.

"Draco," Potter said.

The name jolted him, although he tried not to show it. "Yes?"

Potter smiled. "Just trying it out." With that, Potter shifted even closer, pressed a soft kiss to Draco's lips, and closed his eyes. "Good night."

Draco smiled back, feeling a bit idiotic, but mostly wonderful. "Good night. Harry," he whispered.

He thought vaguely about pulling up the blankets, but it was pleasantly warm in the room and he was far too comfortable where he was to bother. After one last glance at Harry's dark eyelashes and sex-reddened lips, Draco closed his eyes and went to sleep.



A sound woke Harry and he reached across the bed to encounter nothing but air where he thought a warm body should be. His eyes snapped open and he raised his head to find the bed empty. Malfoy had gone.

His head thumped back on the pillow and he wondered why the knowledge was painful. Malfoy had his own room, after all. And they weren't exactly a couple. They had only had a few short, if brilliant, sexual encounters. It didn't have to mean anything.

It meant something to Harry, though.

A noise drew his attention and he realized a strip of light gleamed from beneath the bathroom door. Harry quickly left the bed and padded across the room. He pushed the door open and blinked against the brightness of the light.

Malfoy stood at the sink, mouth full of white foam and a Muggle toothbrush in his hand. He grinned at Harry, whose relief was so great he took several steps forward and wrapped himself around Malfoy. Naked Malfoy. Harry nuzzled the hair at the base of his skull and let his hands caress Malfoy's slender body.

Malfoy touched Harry's fingers with his free hand and then rinsed and spat into the sink. He straightened and then turned in Harry's embrace. To Harry's surprise, Malfoy returned his hug, pulling him close and pressing a kiss to Harry's cheek.

"Morning, Potter."

"Is it?" Harry asked. "It's still dark."

"Yes, Jordan's admonition was to awaken early, remember? I expect his Howler at any moment."

"Yeah. Should brace ourselves for that." Harry tasted Malfoy's throat once more and then the man moved out of his embrace. Their eyes met in the mirror when Malfoy paused at the door. Harry's heart did a curious flip when Malfoy smiled.

"Muggle toothpaste is no substitute for a Tooth Cleaning Charm," he said, "But it's better than nothing."

He went out and Harry reached quickly for the second plastic-wrapped toothbrush. Had the cryptic words been a promise of kissing? Harry brushed quickly but thoroughly, just in case.

Malfoy lay on the bed, still gloriously nude. It made Harry feel more comfortable with his own nakedness, especially when Malfoy's eyes glided over him slowly and a smile curved his lips. Harry grinned at him and dragged a hairbrush through his hair, much good that it would do.

He walked over and climbed on top of Malfoy to stare down at him. "Good morning," Harry purred and leaned down to kiss him. It was delightful, a lazy play of tongues and gentle nips. Harry pulled away too soon, wondering if they had time for more. Malfoy's eyes were soft and seemed to almost glow with good humour.

"Interesting toothpaste, that," he said.

"Yeah, um... cloves?"

"I think so. Give me that brush." Malfoy took it and dragged it through his hair, but Harry took it back.

"Let me," he said and moved off of Malfoy before tugging him upright. Harry knelt behind him and pulled the brush through Malfoy's blond locks, alternating with sliding his fingers through it because it felt so incredibly soft, like corn silk.

Malfoy sighed in what seemed a happy fashion and then half-turned to take the brush again. He held it before his face like a microphone.

"Here we are with the world famous defeater of all evil, Harry James Potter," Malfoy said in a terrible imitation of an Australian accent. Harry gaped at him. "Tell our viewers, Mr Potter, what has been your greatest experience during The Incredible Race?"

Harry bit his lip to stop from laughing and adopted a serious mien. "Well," he replied, leaning forward to speak into the bristles of the brush, "The food has been amazing. And the scenery has been um... incredible."

"I see," Malfoy said, but his eyes narrowed dangerously. "That has been your best experience, then?"

"No, I wouldn't say that," Harry said quickly. "I think the best bit has actually been getting to know my amazing partner, Draco Malfoy, very... intimately." He lowered his voice to a hushed tone and waggled his eyebrows.

Malfoy's smile nearly took Harry's breath away. "That's good," he said.

"Very good," Harry said and leaned in for a kiss.

They were interrupted by the familiar blaring sound of the wakeup message. Harry groaned and wondered if they had time for a hand job. Or something more. Malfoy's palm spanked down on Harry's arse cheek, making him jump.

"Up, Potter. We have a contest to win. Those dragon tamers will be put in their place once and for all."

"Do you really think we'll win?" Harry asked, lounging on the bed and watching with interest as Malfoy got up and began to dress. He grinned as Malfoy pulled on a clean pair of pants.

Malfoy waggled an index finger. "Don't look at me like that, Potter. We don't have time for pornographic antics. Of course we'll win."

Harry bounced off the bed and walked over to Malfoy, who held up a shirt with a critical tilt of his head. Harry slipped his arm around Malfoy's slender waist and then tucked a hand down inside his pants to fondle his cock. "No time at all for pornographic antics?" Harry asked and nuzzled the side of Malfoy's neck.

Malfoy lightly smacked his wrist with his fingertips. "None. But I'll pencil you in for a celebratory shag this evening."

Harry caught his breath. He had not dared to think very far beyond what they had already done. Hand jobs and even blow jobs were terrifying enough when performed with your former enemy, but shagging? That was taking it to another level.

Whatever it was.

"Okay," Harry murmured.

Malfoy turned his head to look at Harry for a moment and then tipped his head back for a kiss. Harry felt like he was drowning. The sensation was heady and brilliant and... altogether terrifying. He stroked Malfoy's cock, which swelled beneath his hand.

"Oh fuck," Malfoy said, breaking the kiss only after Harry's knees began to weaken. "Fuck, Harry."

Harry's hands tightened upon hearing his name. Damn it, but he shouldn't have given Malfoy that weapon. He stopped stroking Malfoy's cock and slid his hand slowly upward, over his taut abdomen. They had to stop. There was no time and Harry was ready to chuck the entire contest and stay in Kathmandu with Malfoy forever.

"We should... um."

Malfoy sighed and nodded. "We should. Breakfast. And clothing."

"Yes." Harry nodded and stepped away, feeling like a bandage being torn from a raw wound. He turned and staggered to his knapsack before sinking to his knees and staring blindly into it in the guise of searching for his garments. This is bad, he thought, this is very bad.

What the hell was he going to do when the competition was over?



Draco stared at the enormous, brightly coloured object that seemed to take up most of the sky. "What the hell is that?" he asked.

Potter smirked. "Hot air balloon."

"What does one do with it?"

Potter pointed. "See that small basket? You get inside and then untie the ropes. The balloon sails into the sky and takes you with it. Looks like fun!"

Draco did not think it looked fun at all. He thought it looked like suicide. And once Lee Jordan started babbling about how they were to ride the balloons up to a mountainside terrace, he thought it looked even less fun.

"Why not just fly the normal way?" he growled. "What is wrong with brooms? Are these Muggle contraptions really necessary?"

"We've already been on brooms. I'm sure they want to make things more entertaining for the viewers."

"How nice for the viewers." Draco knew his voice was petulant and possibly a bit whiny, but he didn't care. Their wands had not been returned, which meant a fall from the bloody contraption could mean certain death.

Potter laughed, damn him. "Come on, it will be fine. You'll see." And then the prat smiled at him with that bloody look in his eyes that Draco was beginning to recognize as fondness, making him realize that he could get used to fondness from Harry Potter far too easily and that was a dangerous, dangerous notion.

"Fuck you, Potter." The lack of venom in his voice was also slightly alarming.

Potter only laughed again and said, "The film editors are going to hate you, since they'll have to censor half of what you say."

"Only when I'm talking to you," Draco said and sniffed. Potter grinned and grabbed his wrist to lead him toward the balloon, which loomed larger and larger as they approached. He supposed Muggles were rather creative when it came to teaching themselves how to fly.

Draco listened with half an ear as Jordan described their challenge. Board the balloons -- there were two of the monstrosities -- and soar up the mountainside until they reached the docking plateau. Then they had a short climb up a rocky path until they located a specific hut wherein they would find Portkeys that would take them to a second location. Draco hoped it was nearby. He was heartily sick of Portkey travel.

"And go!" Jordan yelled. Potter took off like a shot and Draco followed. A Nepalese man smiled and beckoned them into the basket, which was more difficult to board than it seemed. The balloon bobbed and swayed with each movement and the opening was just high enough to risk testicular injury if one was not careful.

Potter grabbed Draco's arms and helped to lever him in.

"Ready!" Potter cried and gave the pilot a nod. The man shouted something and a ground crew released the ropes.

Draco waited for the sensation of rising and frowned. He glanced over the side to see if they were still bound to the earth, but to his surprise the ground was rapidly receding. Already the waving people on the ground seemed tiny. It was a marvel -- almost as if the balloon negated the effects of gravity.

Potter was transfixed, hands gripping the edge of the basket as he stared into the distance. Draco followed his gaze and nearly gasped aloud. The sun was just beginning to rise, turning the stark white Himalaya range into a wash of orange-pink. The view was stunning.

Draco moved forward to stand with Potter.

"It's so beautiful," Potter said in a hushed tone. His hand moved to cover Draco's on the woven basket rim and Draco did not bother to pull away. It was a disturbingly romantic moment and if the bloody Watcherbee had not been hovering over their shoulder, Draco would probably have done something stupid like kiss Potter.

Instead he dragged his attention to the second balloon. The dragon tamers' balloon was flying a bit lower, but seemed to be keeping pace. Nigel lifted a hand and waved. Potter waved back. Draco resisted flipping Nigel a two-fingered salute -- barely.

"You never told me why you don't like Nigel," Potter said.

"We don't have time for that list," Draco replied dryly.

Potter snorted and squeezed his hand. They said nothing more as they glided over the rooftops and terraced hillside, admiring the view as the sun rose. The flight took just over an hour and Draco was glad of the experience, even though he would never admit it. Muggle balloon-flight was magnificent.

"There's the path!" Potter said and pointed as the balloon dropped lower and lower. Draco glanced over to see the dragon tamers' balloon already touching down. Brendon leaped out, followed by Nigel, who tripped and sprawled on the ground. Draco felt an uncharitable sense of smug satisfaction. Nigel got up and hurried after Brendan, who started up the mountain path just as Potter hopped out of the balloon, dropping a greater distance than Draco thought was prudent, but simply rolling with the fall and bouncing to his feet. He bolted after the dragon tamers and Draco sighed heavily as he hopped out of the basket, hitting the ground with a jarring thud.

Potter looked back once and smiled before rounding a corner and becoming lost from Draco's sight in the undergrowth.

"Prat!" Draco muttered and raced after him.



"And it's a race up the mountainside to the small hut where our final contestants will find the Portkeys that will take them to Pokhara! Brendan is in the lead, but Harry Potter has passed up Nigel, who seems to be limping a bit after his leap from the hot air balloon. Draco is bringing up the rear, rapidly gaining on Nigel."

"Run, Harry! Run!" Ron shouted, leaping up and down.

Luna clapped beside him. "This is very exciting! Go, Nigel!"

Ron stopped hopping and glared at her.

"Well, we don't want it to be too easy on the boys, do we? They need some competition. Beside, I like Brendan and Nigel." Her tone was matter-of-fact.

"Harry's inside!" Neville cried.

"Great, now he has to wait for Malfoy," Ron grumbled.

"And Brendan has to wait for Nigel. Draco just passed him," Luna pointed out.

The image switched to a view inside the hut, which contained a single table with two wooden masks resting atop a brightly coloured woollen cloth. Harry reached for one and then paused just as Hermione yelled, "Wait, Harry!"

Brendan burst into the door and was about to grab for a mask when he halted and looked at Harry. Both men were panting with exertion.

"Triggered by touch, you think?" Brendan asked.

Harry nodded. "Makes sense, yeah?"

Malfoy was the next person through the door and he hurried to Harry's side. Ron watched closely to see if he could spot any untoward behaviour between them.

"On three?" Harry asked Malfoy, who growled, "Screw that." He reached out and linked his fingers through Harry's and then placed them on the nearest mask. They disappeared together.

Ron gaped at the screen while Ginny shrieked with laughter.

"Holding hands! I never thought I'd see it."

"They were not holding hands!" Ron bellowed and then he sat down and crossed his arms and pouted, his glare daring anyone to contradict him. Despite that, he admitted to himself that they sort of had been holding hands. He hadn't missed the way they had stood close together in the basket of the hot air balloon. Apparently the film editors hadn't missed it, either, considering the romantic music they had chosen to play during the balloon footage.

Malfoy, of all people, he thought with a mental sigh. Harry, Harry, Harry.



The Portkey jaunt was thankfully short.

"Welcome to Pokhara!" Jordan said in his annoyingly cheerful voice. Draco heard Potter gasp next to him and remembered to unlink their hands, but not before Jordan winked knowingly at him. Draco scowled.

"Draco, look!"

He turned, surprised by Potter's use of his first name, and the view nearly took his breath away. They stood in an open temple-like structure with huge pillars holding up a domed roof. Between the pillars could be seen an immense lake and beyond that jutted an incredible series of mountain peaks, all incredibly white in contrast to the brilliant blue sky.

The reflection of the mountain range gleamed on the water like a reverse shadow. Potter walked between the pillars and out upon the grassy sward to stand with his hands on his hips, admiring the natural wonderland. Draco stayed where he was and admired Potter.

"Beautiful, yeah?" Jordan asked next to him.

Draco nodded and Jordan made a snorting noise that drew Draco's attention. He raised a brow and started to ask what Jordan's smirk meant, but Brendan and Nigel popped up behind him and Jordan turned away, all business once more.

"Congratulations, Brendan and Nigel! As Harry and Draco were the first team to arrive in Pokhara, they will get to choose their challenge. Aurors, would you prefer Puzzles or Paddles?"

Instead of making them guess, Jordan explained. "Puzzles" involved putting together a complex puzzle to build a clue that would take them to their next destination. "Paddles" would force them to row a wooden rowboat to the centre of the lake where a small temple sat. Once there, they would need to locate a clue inside the temple without drawing adverse attention of the Muggle worshippers.

Draco was heartily tired of physical challenges and rowing sounded particularly heinous. "Puzzles," he said immediately.

Potter frowned. "I'm not very good at puzzles."

"Don't worry. I am."

"Excellent. Auror team, if you will descend the steps right over there and enter our puzzle room Hannah will escort the Dragon Tamers to the lake. Once there, both teams will find a red box. Please stand inside it and do not begin until the lines turn blue. Our Aurors will receive a five minute head start for being the first team to reach this point. Good luck, Aurors." Jordan's voice sounded particularly smug and Draco wondered if he should have chosen to row, after all.

It was too late to change his mind and Potter was already descending the stone steps. Draco followed. At the bottom was a small circular chamber with elaborate carvings on every visible surface. On the floor had been drawn a red rectangle with what looked like chalk, except that it glowed slightly. Potter stood within the lines and Draco joined him. There was barely room for the two of them and their shoulders overlapped. For just a moment, Draco thought about leaning forward and nuzzling the black hair that curled just behind his ear. The skin there was very soft, he knew.

Potter turned his head and must have caught the thought, because his lips curved into a smile that made Draco clench his hands into fists in order to resist the urge to kiss him.

"Fucking Watcherbee," Draco whispered.

"Yeah," Potter replied and leaned back against him. The magical recording device hovered in front of them, so Draco risked a quick grope of Potter's backside, squeezing lightly and drawing an intake of breath from Potter. Draco chuckled.

"Stop that or I'm going to say to hell with everyone watching and molest you right here," Potter murmured, so low that Draco could barely hear.

Draco's hand tightened at the idea of Potter actually doing such a thing. Then he snorted aloud, because that would be madness. "Your adoring fans would revolt."

Potter's eyes narrowed. "Do you really think I care about that?"

Draco considered testing Potter's resolve to find out for certain, but the red lines glowed blue and Draco let go of his arse. "Too late. We have a puzzle to solve." Draco stepped forward quickly, confessing that he was not quite ready to cross that line himself. Admitting that he wanted Potter was one thing, admitting it to the world was another.

When the box turned colour, a large stone table appeared before them. It had most likely been hidden with a Disillusionment Charm. Draco walked forward to examine it. A recessed area, rectangular in shape, covered most of the surface. Atop that lay a haphazard pile of square tiles.

Potter hefted one and looked at it curiously before throwing him a perplexed look.

"Runic symbols. I don't suppose you can read Ancient Runic?"

Potter shook his head and looked away. "A few words, like 'open' and 'danger'. You know the ones they stress in the Department."

Draco made a noncommittal sound. He hadn't expected much help from Potter, anyway. Luckily, Ancient Runic had been thrust upon him as a child, as several of the books in his father's extensive library were written in the language.

"Very well, you can spread them out while I give a go at sorting them."

Potter eagerly set to his task, covering most of the table surface with the tiles while Draco turned them and began to put words together.

"Hey, this one says 'open'!" Potter said with a grin.

Draco's lips curved into a smile, even though he fought it. Damn the man for being stupidly adorable. Draco took the tile. "Very good, Potter. You've been quite helpful." Potter bit his lip and looked somewhat crestfallen, so Draco reached out and gave his wrist an impulsive squeeze. "Don't worry, I've almost got it."

And he did. A few more quick turns and some instructions to Potter had the tiles quickly falling into place. Draco set the last one with a sense of satisfaction. He translated the words aloud for Potter's benefit.

"It says 'Do you dare to open the door to your soul?'"

As soon as he said the words, the stone table rumbled and shifted. A crack appeared down the centre, widening to disclose a recessed space that held three objects.

"Our wands!" Potter cried and snatched up his. Draco took his wand and also the large key that apparently fit the door that had appeared on one section of the curved wall. Potter noticed it, as well. "Is that the door to your soul?"

"I don't have a soul, Potter, so it must be yours."

Potter nudged him with an elbow. "Yes, you do. You hide it well, but it's there beneath all the prickles."

And just like that, Draco wanted to kiss him again. "Prickles," he repeated roughly, trying for sarcasm, but possibly failing as he gave Potter a look he feared bordered on smitten. Potter's grin widened and their eyes met for far too long as silence stretched between them. Finally Draco jerked his head toward the portal.

"Shall we?" he asked and rounded the table, not walking near Potter just in case the urge to reach out and touch him became too much to overcome.

Draco thrust the key into the oversized keyhole and gave it a twist before pushing the door open. Nothing but blinding light met his gaze, causing him to raise his hands to shield his eyes, blinking back tears against the glare.

And then the light disappeared.

Draco blinked again, seeing nothing but multicoloured spots before his eyes, sliding through the darkness and flashing as he blinked. His hands groped outward, one still clutching his wand, but he felt nothing. "Potter?" he asked. The word echoed and there was no response. "Lumos!"

Light burst from the tip of his wand, illuminating his surroundings... which were curiously devoid of anything interesting. Draco was in a cavern, apparently, filled with dull grey stone and nothing else.

"Potter!" he shouted. The word echoed back at him and he stilled his breathing to listen intently, but there was no answering cry. He tried several more times to no avail. "Right, then," he muttered. "I'm alone." For the first time in days, now that he thought about it. He had grown used to Potter being constantly near at hand and his absence now was curiously wrenching.

Three passageways exited the chamber, all quite close together and looking very similar, hewn from the stone itself. He walked closer to examine them, wondering which passage would lead him to... wherever he was destined to go. Was it his task to locate Potter? He looked around for the Watcherbee, but if it was still viewing him it was better hidden than usual.

The passages were all the same, except for the centre one, which had very faint prints in the dust of the floor. Not footprints, however, but paw prints. Draco knelt to inspect them more closely. They seemed to be the prints of a large cat, like a tiger or jaguar, or something similar that had tendencies toward man-eating.

Prudence would suggest choosing one of the passages without the looming threat of death, but Draco felt it likely that such a path would be a waste of time. Clearly, the prints were the only clue and he was meant to follow them.

The passage meandered on a twisting path that gradually led upward without branching. Draco walked slowly and kept his wand at the ready, alert for anything. Light became visible and he hurried his pace, eager to see the end of the dark corridor. He stopped short when the exit took him to a peaceful-looking garden. A grassy sward surrounded by flower-laden bushes and overhanging trees seemed to frame a stone bench nestled beneath a willow. Near the bench was a bubbling stone fountain and seated on the bench was a white tiger. The animal watched him without moving as Draco walked forward cautiously.

There was something odd about the scene and after a moment he figured it out -- they were still underground. He wasn't sure how he could tell, as the bright blue sky above seemed perfectly natural. Perhaps it was his years at Hogwarts living beneath the spelled ceiling in the Great Hall.

The tiger was also strange, seated more like a housecat than a wild creature, with its tail wrapped around its legs. The bench was nearly too small for it.

"Care to tell me where we are, then?" Draco asked mildly, still walking forward, albeit carefully, just in case his intuition was wrong.

He wasn't wrong. The tiger shimmered and changed, becoming a round-faced old man wearing a multicoloured Nepalese hat and plain brown robes trimmed in orange. "Welcome to Shangri-la," he said.

Draco looked around once more. "Shangri-la? I always expected it to be larger."

The old man smiled. "Your wit is a shield against your fear. You should turn it to more constructive uses. What do you seek, Draco Malfoy?"

Draco considered the words, looking for hidden meaning. It almost seemed a trap and he wondered if this scenario wasn't a continuation of the puzzle he had built earlier.

"I seek the way out."

"That is not correct." The old man's tone was kindly. "Sometimes in the course of our lives we do not get a second chance. But sometimes we do. This is one of those times. What do you seek, Draco Malfoy?"

Fuck. What was he supposed to say? He thought about the tile puzzle. Do you dare to open the door to your soul? Apparently he was required to come up with something a bit deeper than flippancy, something that demanded soul-searching.

"What does any man seek? Acceptance? Appreciation? Friendship?" Draco paused and then added, "Love?"

"Are you answering the question with more questions?"

Draco shook his head. "No. To be honest, I suppose those are the things I'm seeking."

"And have you found them?"

Draco thought about it. Harry Potter had accepted him, although grudgingly, into the Auror program and silenced the sneers and jeers with a surprising lack of tolerance for such behaviour. Draco had expected him to be one of his primary opponents and they had certainly had their moments, such as the Teak Incident. The memory now brought only a smile, even though at the time it had nearly got them thrown out of the department.

And appreciation? Potter had certainly shown him that. Of course, it was one thing to show appreciation for a blow job, but quite another to express admiration for a job well done. Draco remembered Potter's face in St Petersburg as he had watched Draco locate the magical objects. Draco had felt intelligent, successful, and valued. Perhaps, not surprisingly, after their experiences together he had to admit he now thought of Potter as a friend. And more.

"Yes," Draco admitted. "I wouldn't have thought it possible only days ago, but yes, I think I have."

"All of them?"

Draco smiled. "Possibly not the last, but I would say there is a very good chance of getting there, if things continue to go well."

The old man nodded in a sage fashion. "Then you are no longer searching for those things, since you have found them. So what it is that you seek?"

Draco breathed deeply, but felt only a curious sense of peace when he admitted what he sought -- the only thing he wanted. "Potter," he said simply. "I need Harry Potter."

The old man nodded. "You have done well," he said and shifted back into his Animagus tiger form. After giving Draco a very un-catlike wink, he wove through the flowering bushes and disappeared. After a moment, the entire scene seemed to melt together and then it vanished, leaving Draco alone in a large, dark cavern.

Draco spun around in frustration and saw nothing of interest beyond three more passages that led from the room. "How is this helpful?" he yelled. He received no answer but his own echo.



"Well," said Hermione, "that was interesting.

Ron was gaping at the screen. Malfoy's words had been something of a shock. Ron had assumed that whatever had been going on between Malfoy and Harry had been either a nasty trick or some casual fling on Malfoy's part. He had not expected Malfoy to practically admit to falling for Harry.

"Told you," Ginny said smugly around a mouthful of chips.

Ron glared at her and stuffed a piece of cod into his mouth. At least his sister had brought fish and chips. Neville was in the kitchen searching for the butterbeer Ron was certain they still had in the pantry somewhere. Luna was not in attendance due to her work schedule, but she had assured them that she and her co-workers would all be tuned in for the finale.

"Do you really think Malfoy cares about him?" Ron asked finally.

"I don't think he was lying," Hermione said.

"Then why did everything disappear?"

Ginny hit him with a pillow. "Maybe you should keep watching, gormless."

Not for the first time, he envied Harry's lack of siblings.



Harry stamped down his growing panic as he spun in place. He was in a hedge maze. A fucking hedge maze. Memories of the last time he was in a maze came rushing back, leaving his palms wet and clenched into fists. His wand dug into his right palm.

"Malfoy!" he yelled. "Draco!"

There was no reply, as he had half-expected, so he walked to the end of the row. To the right, the maze continued on into the darkness. To the left, after a short distance, there was a glow, although he could see more hedges illuminated beyond. He headed that way, walking quietly and carefully while holding his wand ready.

He stepped into an open space, fully enclosed by foliage. It was square in shape and contained nothing but a small garden bench fashioned of plain stone that matched the cobbled floor he walked upon.

A man sat upon the bench, smiling at him sedately. He wore brown robes and a woven hat in the Nepalese style, brightly coloured and pulled over his brows. His gaze seemed kindly, but Harry knew enough not to be fooled by appearances. He lifted his wand.

"Greetings, Harry Potter," the man said.

"What is this place?" Harry asked, following the question with, "Who are you?"

The man ignored his queries. "Your exploits are known to us, Harry Potter, and your fame has been spoken around the globe. Your courage is legendary and you have faced your fears with honour. But I wonder, what is it you now fear?"

Harry frowned. The similarity to the maze he had fought through during the Triwizard Tournament was not lost on him. He wondered if the question was akin to the Sphinx riddle.

"Is this part of the challenge?" he asked, hoping nothing had gone wrong and that Malfoy was all right.

The man said nothing and Harry sighed. Fine. His greatest fear. Honestly, fear seemed a bit pointless these days, considering he had faced dementors, Death Eaters, Voldemort, and death itself before his teenage years were done. He was rarely afraid in the course of his job, although he was not egocentric enough to say he was fearless. He still had a healthy sense of self-preservation that kept him from behaving too stupidly, even though Malfoy would probably suggest otherwise. Harry smiled at the thought of Malfoy's witty rejoinder.

"I fear anything that might harm my friends," Harry said cautiously.

The man smiled, but shook his head. "All people with empathy have this fear. You must look deeper."

Harry mentally cringed. He wasn't much of a soul-searcher. What was it he feared? Aside from Ron and Hermione becoming sick or injured, or losing any of his friends for any reason, there wasn't much to fear now that Voldemort was gone... Harry did not think of himself as a fearful person, actually. He rarely even had nightmares these days. When he did, he generally woke up in the darkness, heart racing with adrenaline, and wishing --

"I don't want to grow old alone," Harry said quietly. "I want what my parents had, and I'm afraid I won't have that chance. I've passed up so many opportunities, waiting for something..." Waiting for someone. Harry looked away and then caught sight of movement at the edge of his vision. The Watcherbee. He scowled.

"This conversation will not be revealed if you do not wish it so," the man said.

Harry nearly sagged with relief. The thought of someone like Rita Skeeter watching his confession, smirking and twisting his words into a vitriolic newspaper article was not pleasant.

"I definitely do not wish it so. I value my privacy."

"Perhaps too much." The words were simply delivered and could have been a question. Regardless, they struck Harry. Was it possible he had driven away potential relationships with his obsessive need to avoid the limelight? Was he so disgusted by the idea of being fodder for the press that he had sabotaged his own chances for happiness? Certainly he had done it with Ginny. After being almost constantly in the eye of the press and feeling pressured to become the picture perfect hero with the lovely wife and 2.5 children, Harry had panicked. He had suggested to Ginny a short separation, just so that he could make sure marriage was what they both wanted. By then, Ginny was also tired of the attention and willingly agreed. By unspoken agreement, they had simply let it die. The incident with Bertram Haversham had merely been a catalyst for their final breakup.

Harry had been happy enough to be out of the public eye, once the furore over their ended relationship had passed. The quiet life was fine and Harry had fought bitterly against joining The Incredible Race, despite the fact that his chosen solitude was also a bit lonely and somewhat dull. He normally counted on his job -- and Malfoy's antagonism -- to balance the boredom.

"Sometimes to be truly whole we must sacrifice a thing that brings us pleasure, in order to achieve that which completes us."

Harry wryly decided the man would have been sorted into Ravenclaw if he had gone to Hogwarts. Many times he had passed blue and bronze clad students arguing similar subjects. He mulled over the words. That which completes us. Harry shook his head. He supposed the answer to that was different for everyone. Harry had no idea what would complete him; he felt pretty whole at the moment.

Except that he was missing Malfoy.

"Where is Draco? Is he somewhere in this maze?"

"Your instincts have served you well in the past. You would do well to pay attention to them in the future," the man said cryptically. With that, he got to his feet, walked around the bench, and disappeared into a section of the hedge. Harry hurried over to examine the place, but his hands encountered only solid branches and leaves.

The man had either been a ghost or a projection, or he had a way of Vanishing that Harry could not determine. Either way, Harry was alone.

"Through the maze it is, then," Harry muttered. He turned and started back, using his wand to light his way. As he walked he mulled over the conversation. "Sometimes to be truly whole we must sacrifice a thing that brings us pleasure, in order to achieve that which completes us."

What was he meant to sacrifice? Something that brought him pleasure? Recently, the only thing that brought him pleasure was Draco Malfoy. Harry's steps faltered at the thought and he smiled at the memory of Malfoy in the shower, soap running over his gleaming skin and the look in his eyes as Harry touched him...

Damn it. Was he really supposed to give that up? It felt like they had barely begun. And how would letting go of Malfoy bring him happiness? How would it help complete him?

Harry shook his head and wished Hermione was here. If only for someone to talk to as he made his way through the maze. At least he had his wand and could mark the floor each time he took a turn in order to avoid backtracking and walking in circles. And no Blast-ended Skrewts had jumped out to attack him.

After what seemed endless twists and turns, Harry had an epiphany that stopped him in his tracks. Trust your instincts, the man had said. Harry's instincts were screaming at the thought of giving up Draco Malfoy. Therefore, he wasn't meant to sacrifice Malfoy, he was meant to sacrifice his privacy. It was so simple. He mulled it over for a moment, trying to work out all the issues he had been avoiding while trying to convince himself that what they shared was only a casual fling, something that would need to be set aside when they returned to London and their normal lives. But now...

Could he do it? Would Malfoy be willing to reveal himself as Harry's lover? Was Harry willing to deal with the letters and Howlers and photographs and possible loss of friendships? Ron and Hermione would probably understand, but it was impossible to know how people would react, even when you thought you knew them. And it wasn't just any man Harry was planning to out himself with; it was Draco Malfoy.

The simplest thing would be to enjoy Malfoy while he could and maybe, sometimes, they could connect back home. Casually. Even as he thought it, Harry grimaced. A secretive affair was not what he wanted. What he wanted was more of what they had shared in Bora Bora and Kathmandu. Quiet dinners and sightseeing and hand-holding and shouted fights and brilliant make-up sex...

With new resolve, Harry began to move once more. He rounded a corner and found himself facing an arched doorway cut into the stone wall. He was out of the maze, unless this was merely another part of it. The passage had a low ceiling, forcing Harry to stoop as he made his way along. It sloped downward, but did not curve, and it was thankfully short.

The passage opened into a large chamber that contained a low roaring sound. Harry brightened his Lumos to try and penetrate the darkness -- the place was enormous. He walked forward cautiously, avoiding boulders of all shapes and sizes. He hoped the chamber did not collapse in upon itself. From the debris, it seemed a possibility.

The roaring became louder as he reached the centre of the chamber and he stopped when he realized a huge chasm cut the place in two. He peered over the edge, but could see nothing but darkness. It seemed an underground river flowed far below.

Cursing the chamber as a dead end, he was about to turn back when a flicker of light caught his eye. He stared as the light grew brighter.

"Potter?" someone yelled.

"Malfoy?" he asked hopefully.

The light bobbed as Malfoy ran toward him. "Potter! I thought I would never get out of there!"

"Stop!" Harry shouted in a panicked tone as Malfoy drew closer to the chasm. The light halted and Harry could vaguely make out pale hair and Malfoy's shape. "There's a rift!"

Malfoy started forward again, more slowly, and finally stopped when he was across from Harry. The distance that separated them was perhaps twelve feet.

Malfoy looked delighted and he actually laughed out loud. "Potter! I can't believe I'm saying this, but it's very good to see you!"

Harry smiled back and wished he could throw himself on Malfoy and show him just how much he returned that sentiment. "It's great to see you, too!" he called. "How do we cross?"



"Honestly, Harry, cast a Flying Charm," Hermione muttered.

Ron nodded in agreement. There hadn't been much footage of Harry, only shots of him walking through a hedge maze and then entering a great cavern. Most of the episode had been spent watching the dragon tamers row across the lake with their rippling muscles flexing . Hermione and Ginny had been riveted.

"What's happening to Brendan?" Ginny demanded. "I wanted to see if he conquered his fear of enclosed spaces!"

"Who cares about the stupid dragon tamers, Gin?" Ron demanded. "We're supposed to be here for Harry!"

"And poor Nigel with his inability to commit," Hermione said in the same tone she had once used in reference to Gilderoy Lockheart. "Will he ever find love, do you think?"

Ron stared at them both in horror while they cooed over the bloody dragon tamers while poor Harry was trapped in a dark cavern with Draco Malfoy.

"Can you two pay attention?" he demanded.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Sorry, Ron. What is Harry doing now?"

"Looking for a way across. Why doesn't he just cast a bloody spell?"



"There is no easy way to cross, Potter!" Draco yelled. "We'll have to fly!"

Potter nodded, as though he had expected as much. Draco had also, but he had hoped there would be a bridge to make it easier. Of course there was none.

"All right," Potter said when they both halted at the narrowest point of the chasm, which was still a very large distance. "I'll do it."

Potter lifted his wand and cast. Draco waited, but Potter seemed confused. He cast again.

"It's not working!"

Draco frowned. "Let me try. Wingardium Leviosa!" He cast it first on himself and then on a nearby stone with the same result -- nothing. Damn it. "They must have nullified certain spells!"

"You think so?" Potter's voice was sarcastic and Draco nearly chuckled before he remembered himself.

"How do you plan to cross?"

"Me?" Potter asked. "Why me?"

"Because you are brave and daring and faultless, of course. What do you intend to do?"

Potter tugged at his hair. It was too dark to tell, but he was probably blushing and Draco wanted nothing more than to put his hands on Potter and take him away to do inappropriate things. Unfortunately, Apparition didn't work, either.

"Okay, I'm going to jump across," Potter said.

"What? No, Potter, you can't jump across. It's too far. We need to conjure a rope or something and determine where to tie it..."

"Stand back!" Potter yelled as he walked away from the chasm in obvious preparation to hurl himself across.

"You can't be serious!"

But of course, he was. Potter raced toward the gap and Draco stepped aside, wand out, watching with horror as the complete idiot threw himself over what seemed a ridiculously large space -- and nearly made it. His hands scrabbled at the edge as gravity caught him and dragged him toward the darkness below. Draco leaped forward, dropped his wand, and snatched at him, catching both wrists just as Potter started to fall. Draco's chest thumped into the ground and his arms were nearly torn from their sockets as he bore Potter's full weight.

"Potter, you complete fuckwit!"

"Sorry," Potter said. "I thought I could make it."

"There are a dozen other things we could have tried first!"

"Your fault," Potter said. "I wanted to get to you as soon as possible."

Draco could barely make out his features in the darkness, but his words gave Draco a rush of warmth even through his annoyance. "Stop being a romantic sap when you're about to fall to your death."

"I am not. You've got me. Don't let go. I'm going to try to get my feet on something..."

Draco clenched his teeth and held on tightly while Potter squirmed and twisted. Then the pressure on his arms changed.

"Okay, I think I've got a foothold. I'm going to let go with my right hand."

Draco reluctantly loosened his grip and Potter heaved himself upward before his fingers dug into Draco's arm where it attached to his shoulder. Draco's free hand groped for and found the waistband of Potter's jeans. He curled his fingers into the rough fabric.

"Brilliant," Potter said, breathing heavily. "Now the other side."

Potter repeated the movement with the other hand and Draco curved a hand around Potter's backside and then heaved, pulling him up and over his shoulder by his arse and waistband. Potter's knee banged into Draco's forehead, but he sprawled in the dirt, safely out of danger.

Draco stayed where he was for a moment. He wasn't sure he could move his arms. "You are a complete idiot, you know that?"

Potter laughed. "You've mentioned it."

Draco groaned and levered himself up with his strained muscles. He turned and threw himself atop Potter before taking his face in his hands and kissing him, Watcherbee and the world be damned.



Ron shot to his feet. "Oh my god! They are kissing! Kissing!"

Ginny clapped. "Yeah, way to go, Malfoy!"

Ron glared at her. "I can't believe you approve of this!"

Ginny snorted. "Harry isn't exactly fighting him off. Look at them." She waved a hand toward the screen and Ron reluctantly glanced back at it. Harry's hands were wrapped around Malfoy and they both seemed to be enjoying themselves to the exclusion of all else.

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered. "Well, the cat's definitely out of the bag now. I suppose we should sit back and wait for the next wave of protests and demands for confirmation of Harry's new gay status." He dropped back to the sofa.

"Well, I think it's rather sweet," Hermione said. "We know that Malfoy cares for him. I just hope Harry feels the same. He doesn't seem the type to want a casual, secret fling, but this is Malfoy..."

"I wonder how long they plan to do that?" Neville muttered, still watching the screen. Ron decided it would be best not to look.



Draco finally pulled away in order to look into Potter's face. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness and he could see a silly grin on Potter's lips.

"I guess that answers that question," Potter said and combed his fingers through the hair on Draco's nape.

"What question?"

"I was going to ask how you felt about going public with our... with this... you know."

"I'd say we're public now, unless you want to talk Jordan into not showing that scene."

"I don't have a problem with it being shown," said Potter.

"Neither do I," Draco replied and kissed him again.

He lost himself in Potter's kisses for a bit until finally pulling away with a gasp. "We have a race to win! What are we doing here?"

"I don't know, but I'm about ready to call the race and stay here."

Draco snorted and pushed himself to his feet before pulling Potter upright. He located his wand after a moment and used it to remove the dust from his clothing while Potter brushed himself off with his hands.

"Of course, I don't know how we're supposed to get out. The passage that led me here is the third one I checked. The others were dead ends."

Harry nodded. "I came from a bloody maze and wouldn't want to go back there even if we could both cross the chasm again."

A rustling sound drew their attention and Potter blinked as an owl flew up and landed on his shoulder. Draco untied the message bound to its leg.

"A Portkey?" Potter asked, sounding hopeful.

Draco opened the message carefully while Potter stroked the owl's feathers. The note read Congratulations! You have passed the Spiritual Challenge! This Portkey will activate one minute after the message is opened.

Attached to the note was a large white feather. Draco detached it from the parchment and held it up. "What do you suppose this signifies?"

"More flying?" Potter suggested and stepped closer to touch the feather.

"As long as it is upon brooms and no more Muggle devices," Draco said. Potter shooed the owl away. The debate still raged on whether or not Apparition or travel by Portkey was harmful to animals and they did not need any more bad press. Not that they would have anything but bad press once the Watcherbee disclosed their last bit of footage.

Draco wrapped his hand around Potter's and pulled him closer, yanking him off-balance so that Potter seized up against his chest. His eyes were wide with surprise until Draco kissed him. The last remaining seconds seemed to take forever, which was just fine with Draco, and then he felt the wrench of the Portkey.

Where they landed was cold. Bloody cold. They stood in snow up to their calves.

"What the hell?" Potter asked, pulling away and looking around, but not completely losing touch with Draco. Potter's hand lingered on Draco's hip, as if unwilling to relinquish his hold.

A gust of wind blew up and swirled over them, leaving a dusting of while powder behind. Potter shifted into Draco, huddling against him for warmth. Draco reached up to brush the snow out of Potter's raven hair.

"Welcome Harry and Draco!" Jordan's voice boomed out even though Draco couldn't see him for a moment. He wore a white coat that blended with the snow as he walked toward them. Behind him were the dragon tamers, looking cold and miserable.

Draco threw an arm around Potter, just in case Nigel had any ideas about snuggling up to him. Draco may have also thrown a possessive glare Nigel's way.

"Since our Auror team was the last to arrive, they will receive a penalty of thirty seconds for our next and final challenge! Inside that cave you will find a very large number of brooms. Only six of them have special markings that will enable you to ride them to the bottom of the mountain where the finish line awaits!"

Draco turned with Potter to view an opening in the stone, draped with snow. Nothing was visible inside the dark maw.

"We will leave it up to you to determine what the special marking is. Once both team members have found their brooms, you must present them to Chelsea to verify that they are acceptable. When she gives the okay, you will mount your brooms and ride them down that course to the bottom of the mountain. The first team to cross the finish line will win one million Galleons and be declared the winner of The Incredible Race!"

Draco did not bother to glance down the mountainside. His focus was currently on not freezing. Potter was beginning to shiver against his side.

"Dragon tamers! When you are ready, enter the cave. Your challenge will start as soon as you cross through the portal. The Auror Team will wait only half a minute before joining you, so use your head start wisely!"

"Auror robes!" Draco said against Potter's brow as Brendan and Nigel stepped forward, looking eager to rush inside, although much of that was probably the desire to escape the elements. Potter did not need to ask what Draco meant. He moved away to sling off the knapsack and rummage through it until he located their downsized Auror Robes. He tossed one to Draco, who enlarged it with a quick spell and slung it on.

Potter put the knapsack back in order and then stood as Draco took the robe from his hand and sized it properly before helping Potter into it.

"Ten seconds!" Jordan called as Potter buttoned his robes.

"Ready?" Draco asked and Potter threw him a smile. He looked amazing in his uniform and Draco suddenly realized that they would go back to work at the Ministry soon, and that Draco would see him looking like this on a daily basis, just as before. Except that now he would be hard pressed not to pull Potter into a storage closet and snog the breath out of him.

"And go!" Jordan yelled. Potter took off and Draco powered through the snow next to him. They entered the cave and Potter lifted his wand to light the place as they both blinked in the sudden darkness. Their steps faltered until they realized there was a passage that curved away to the right.

Only a few steps later, they entered an enormous cavern filled with hundreds of brooms, floating haphazardly at all heights.

"You have got to be kidding me," Draco said.

Brendan and Nigel were already frantically scrambling around the room, touching brooms and moving to the next one.

"This is insane," Harry murmured.

"We need to mark the rejects," Draco said, "or this will take hours.

"Good idea."

Despite the fact that Brendan and Nigel also benefitted from the marked brooms, they cast a small glowing mark on each broom that seemed to have no identifiable differences. They were not even certain what they were looking for until Potter cried, "Here!"

Draco felt the broom. There was a discernable marking picked out by his fingers, just above the area one would grip. It was almost like a maker's mark, or possibly a rune. He nodded. "That has to be it. Hold that one and keep looking."

Shortly thereafter, Nigel found one and then it was a race to determine which team would first locate their final broom. A sea of brooms with glowing sigils sailed around them. They moved frantically, racing from item to item and jumping to catch those out of reach. Potter began to Accio the high-fliers. Brendan tried it, but his "Accio broom!" resulted in a barrage that required Potter to cast a Shield Charm to save the idiot from being beaten to death. Potter's Auror-honed control allowed him to Summon only one broom at a time from the bunch.

"I found it!" Nigel shrieked. Brendan squealed like a girl and they bolted for the front of the cave.

"Shit!" Potter exclaimed and then Draco found their final broom.

"Let's go! They barely have a head start."

They hurried out and paused long enough for a bouncy ginger-haired witch to pronounce the brooms acceptable, and then they were racing over the snow-covered slope through the icy air.

Potter grinned over at him, hunched low on his broom, Auror robes flapping behind him. Draco smirked and put on a bit of speed, but Potter caught up quickly. Brendan and Nigel were small dots weaving through the trees ahead of them.

Potter's mood was infectious. It was exhilarating. Draco shot forward again, laughing.



"This is great!" Ron yelled. "It's in the bloody bag now! No way will those dragon tamers outrun Harry on a broom."

Ginny laughed. "And Malfoy is egging him on. Look how cute they are!"

Ron rolled his eyes. He doubted he would ever think of Harry and Malfoy together as "cute". It was bad enough thinking of them together at all, but Harry did look ridiculously happy. Therefore, Ron would just have to ensure that bloody Malfoy never broke his heart.

Hermione hunched forward, biting her lip. She looked worried. Ron patted her shoulder. "Don't worry, they'll win."

"That's what I'm afraid of," she said.



The sun was blinding. Harry wished he had thought to tint his glasses before they started down the mountainside. Looking at Draco was much easier on the eyes than the glaring slope before them.

They were very close to Brendan and Nigel. The dragon tamers were casting worried glances over their shoulders now. Harry almost pitied them. They were taking this silly race far more seriously than --

Harry swerved suddenly, right into Draco. The movement sent them both to the ground in a puff of white powder. Harry was flung from his broom and rolled a short distance. He blinked snow out of his eyes and then his vision was obscured by his enraged partner.

"What the fuck was that?" Draco demanded, looking rumpled, snow-covered, and furious.

Harry twisted a hand in the hem of Draco's Auror robe and dragged him down before rolling atop him. Draco fought him until Harry half-sprawled over him and held his wrists against the snow.

"Draco, listen. We don't need to win."

Draco stilled and puzzlement replaced some of the annoyance visible on his features. "Of course we do. It's a million Galleons plus everyone will know that we are the best."

"Half a million Galleons each, which we already have. Brendan and Nigel don't. They need it far more than we do. And you shouldn't care about 'everyone' and their opinions."

"But..." Despite Draco's protest, the fight went out of him and he gave up even the pretence of fighting. His mouth twisted into a pout. "I hate you."

"No, you don't. You're only saying that because you know I'm right. Besides, I already won something far better than gold."

"And what might that be?"

"I think you know," Harry said and kissed him.

Eventually, they made it down the mountain, rumpled and wet, to congratulate the beaming dragon tamers. Snogging in the snow was a novel experience, but it was also cold and the ever-present Watcherbee forestalled more amorous intentions.

Nigel shook Harry's hand excitedly. "I thought we were going to lose! What happened?"

"They let us win, idiot," Brendan said sourly.

"No, it was my fault. I swerved off-course," Harry said. "I think I sprained something jumping across the chasm in the other challenge. You guys won fair and square. Congratulations."

Draco shook Nigel's hand and for once did not look like he wanted to hurt the boy. It occurred to Harry -- very belatedly -- that Draco had been jealous.

Lee Jordan clapped Harry on the shoulder. "As our second-place winners, Harry and Draco, you are entitled to a weeklong vacation in any of the places you visited during this race. Any idea where you would like to return?"

"Bora Bora," they both said together and then shared a warm look.

Lee laughed. "As unbelievable as it seems, romance has bloomed during The Incredible Race. You two have obviously decided to go public, unless you plan to suppress some of our footage..."

Harry shook his head and raised his chin a notch as he met Draco's eyes. "I am not ashamed to admit that Draco Malfoy is one of the most amazing people I have ever met. We work together at the Ministry, but I never got to know him until this competition. I am happy to say that many of my former opinions of him were wrong. Very wrong. He's incredible." Harry grinned. "And he's gorgeous. And a brilliant kisser."

Amazingly, Draco blushed. Lee turned to him expectantly and Draco shrugged. "He's Harry Potter. Everyone knows he's special. It just took me a bit longer to figure it out." He smiled and Harry wondered why the snow didn't melt from the brilliance of it.



"I think I'm going to be sick," Ron said and Hermione's elbow gouged him in the ribs. Her eyes were bright.

"I think it's the sweetest thing I've ever seen," she said. Her voice sounded rough and Ron thought she might be holding back tears. Disturbingly, Ginny looked much the same, and Ron had always assumed his sister to have ice water for blood.

"Way to go, Harry," Ginny said.

"I can't believe they didn't win," Neville said.

"Finally, someone who speaks sense." Ron gave him a commiserating look.

"Oh, come on, it's romantic. They embarked on a journey and found each other." Hermione sighed happily and Ginny burst out laughing. Hermione blushed. "All right, maybe that was excessive, but it's good to see Harry so happy. Look at him."

They all turned to the screen just in time to see it fade into an image of the entire cast of competitors gathered in one large room, seated on two large sectional sofas. Harry and Malfoy sat next to one another, not touching except when their elbows brushed when one of them moved. The dragon tamers sat closest to Lee, who rested in a single chair at the end of one sofa, facing the group. After the dragon tamers were Harry and Malfoy, then Rita Skeeter and Gertrude Acrimony -- Rita sat next to Harry, which Ron thought was a dangerous situation. He hoped Lee had provided for potential violence.

"They are sitting in order of elimination," Hermione said and Ron realized Neville had asked about the seating situation.

"Good evening, everyone! On our last show, you watched our Dragon Tamer Team race to victory down a mountainside in the Annapurna range in Nepal, narrowly winning over our Auror Team. We allowed our team members some time to rejuvenate and return to London, where we are now in the WBS studio to discuss the race. Welcome, former contestants!"

Each of the contestants looked well-rested and relaxed. It seemed odd after having just seen the last pair racing down a snow-covered mountainside. Harry and Malfoy looked different and it was hard to tell if they were still a couple.
Ginny and Hermione were both leaning forward to stare at the screen. "The race only lasted a few days for them, but they've been confined for weeks since we started watching," Hermione said. "Do you think once the excitement of the race wore off they had a falling out?"

Ron found himself leaning forward, as well, feeling conflicted. On one hand, it was Malfoy and it would serve him right if Harry broke up with him. On the other, Harry would probably be more emotionally devastated over such a thing.

"Malfoy better not have hurt him," he muttered darkly.



Thankfully, Jordan did not make them stand around in the snow for long. As the winners, Brendan and Nigel were required to spend some time on photographs and additional interviews in the shadow of the great peaks, but Draco and Harry -- he supposed he should start thinking of him as Harry now -- were allowed to return to Pokhara.

They were escorted to a small lakeside cottage where Potter -- Harry -- threw himself on the bed with a groan. "God, I'm so glad that's over. No more bloody challenges! No more starving or freezing or wondering what insane thing we will be forced to do next!"

"Until we go back to work," Draco said dryly. He was desperate to go shopping and purchase some decent clothing. They were still not allowed to contact anyone from home and were encouraged to keep a low profile for the next few weeks until the final episode would be shown to the wizarding world, but they had not been forbidden to escape confinement.

Potter stretched. "True, but I want to enjoy the rest of this holiday, so please don't mention work. And what are you doing way over there?"

Draco's attention had already been drawn by the stretch and the question had him striding across the floor to crawl over the top of Harry.

"The way I see it, Potter, you owe me five hundred thousand Galleons," Draco growled.

"Do I?"

"Yes," Draco said and buried his face in Harry's neck, tasting the salty flavour of his skin and breathing in his scent.

"And how do you plan to collect that?" Harry asked, not moving. His voice was tinged with amusement, but it became slightly breathless as Draco sucked lightly before moving to another spot.

"I think I'll take it out in trade." Draco began to unbutton Harry's Auror robe slowly, still peppering his neck with kisses.

Harry made a groaning sound and shifted to allow Draco to reach the lower buttons. "That might take a while."

"I have time."

Words were unnecessary after that, as Draco unpeeled Harry from his clothing, dark robes first, and then t-shirt, shoes, socks and jeans, leaving him only in visibly tented pants. The reveal took longers than it should have, due to Draco's need to kiss quite a lot of Harry's flesh as it became visible.

"My turn," Harry said, stilling Draco's hand as he reached for the pants. Harry lifted fingers that trembled a bit as they moved over Draco's buttons, enthusiastically pushing him back onto the bed to remove Draco's lower garments and boots.

Not to be outdone, Harry kissed as much of Draco as he could manage, sliding his lips and tongue over sensitive places. His eyes seemed to gleam at times and Draco could almost see him filing away details for later use. The very thought of later use made Draco feel hot and cold at once, and he clutched at Harry's thick hair before letting it slide through his fingers. It was a good feeling, he decided, particularly because none of his previous relationships had ever had a sense of permanence. But this... well, everything about Harry Potter spoke of permanence and fidelity. It was both terrifying and immensely exhilarating.

"Harry." The dark head rose and green eyes fixed on him. Draco chuckled. "Just trying it out."

Harry pounced, pushing him back onto the blanket with one sock still around his ankle, and then Harry kissed him with all the Gryffindor determination that Draco was just beginning to appreciate.

Draco slipped his hands into Harry's pants and fondled his arse cheeks. They were soft and firm and completely perfect. "I admit to having admired your arse several times over the past decade," Draco admitted between breathless kisses.

Harry bit at his lips gently. "I see I will have to make up for years of neglect in that area."

Draco pouted. "You mean to tell me you never admired my arse?"

"Perhaps once. When I didn't know it was you."

"And when was this?"

Harry's kisses stilled and he pushed his face into Draco's neck and mumbled, "Oh god, I can't believe I'm admitting this."

Draco almost didn't want to continue the conversation, because it had arrested the lovely kissing and Harry's hands sliding all over Draco's skin, but his curiosity was too great. "Tell me."

"It was just before the Teak Incident."

"Just before the Teak Incident? The incident where you hit me? The incident that got us both suspended and nearly booted from the Auror Department? That incident?"

Harry nodded against Draco's neck and his hands tightened for a moment upon Draco's hips before he raised his head. "All right, I admit it. I was talking to Webber outside the building and he mentioned that we would be working with Krista Bancroft -- you know how attractive she is -- and then you came down the ladder and all I saw was your legs and arse and a flash of blond hair, so for a minute I thought you were Krista and I admit that I found your arse delectable... Until you turned around."

Draco's lips thinned, not only at the knowledge that Harry was attracted to that bloody floozy Krista Bancroft, who was married to a stuffy Obliviator and was rumoured to be completely faithful even though she flirted her way through the Ministry like it was her job, but also because he had been mistaken for a girl...

"Now, don't look at me like that. The truth is I was quite shocked to find that I had been ogling your arse during your entire climb down that ladder. I might have overreacted later when you started being a prick because I was angry at myself."

"You might have overreacted?"

"Okay, I completely overreacted and I'm sorry I hit you."

"Apology accepted," Draco growled and reached up to drag him back into a kiss. The knowledge that Harry had been thinking of him that way, even for a brief flash of time, filled him with a giddy sense of power. "Did you wank to thoughts of me?"

Harry's hand found Draco's pants and pushed inside to wrap around his cock. "What? No, of course not. I was straight."

"I like that was."

Harry snorted a laugh and kissed him. "Yeah, not so much now."

"I accept full responsibility for that." The final word disintegrated into a groan because Harry's hand twisted and explored Draco's length and then he slid down to place his mouth where his hand had been. Somewhere along the way, Harry managed to remove their pants and kick them aside.

Harry worked his cock with lips and tongue for some time, until Draco was close to the brink and tugged him away by his hair -- quite useful that it was so thick and easy to pull. Harry looked at him with a discontented slant to his reddened mouth.

"I believe I mentioned shagging," Draco said and wondered if he should have brought it up, because it might be too soon and too large a step for Harry.

"Yeah, okay," Harry said breathlessly. "Um... who should... you know?"

Draco smiled, relieved, and feeling something close to adoration for the awkward willing acceptance. "Any preference?" Draco asked.

Harry opened his mouth, closed it, and then shook his head with a blush staining his cheeks.

Draco moved a hand to touch his face with a smile. "I don't think you're quite ready to bottom, straight boy." Harry started to protest, but Draco kissed him quiet.

When Draco let him up for air, he asked, "What do I do?"

"I'll show you." Draco walked him through the process of lubrication, inserting fingers, stretching, and locating his prostate, and the entire procedure was insanely hot because it was the first time Draco had things exactly as he wanted. Harry was patient and serious, biting his lip as he strove to ensure Draco's pleasure and asking question after question to make sure he was "doing it right".

And fucking hell, he was doing it right. As his fingers brushed over Draco's prostate again he had to struggle not to come. "Inside," he said in a strangled tone. "I need you inside of me right now."

Harry's fingers withdrew immediately and then he was hovering over Draco, looking worried as his cock teased at Draco's waiting entrance. Harry paused and Draco wrapped his hand around Harry's prick to guide him into place. The burning sensation was blissful -- it had been so incredibly long, Draco could not even remember the last time.

"Oh god," Harry muttered. "You feel amazing."

Harry's face was filled with something like awe and Draco felt something in his chest stretch to accommodate the fact that he was responsible for that expression. Rather than give in to the sappy sensation, he quipped, "I'll bet you say that to all the boys."

Harry snorted a laugh and Draco grinned, the too-serious moment broken, and then Harry sobered and began to move, following Draco's directions at first and then instinctively progressing on his own. Draco rocked against him, lost in Harry's skin and kisses and the feel of him moving in ways that sent cascading bursts of pleasure tingling through his body.

Even when getting lost in his own pleasure, Harry was a considerate lover. Each time his fingers would tighten to the point of pain, he seemed to remember himself and would loosen them with an apologetic kiss, only to lose himself moments later and clamp down on Draco's hips again. Draco knew he would have bruises later and he was perfectly fine with it.

"Draco." Harry whimpered. "Oh god, I'm so close and you..." One of Harry's hands left Draco's pelvis and moved to curl around his cock. Combined with another stroke over his prostate and Harry's hot breath against his lips, it only took two tugs and Draco came violently, slicking Harry's hand, which did not stop moving even as he shuddered and quivered with a sharp cry, coming almost simultaneously.

"Draco, god." Harry's voice was awed and he seemed to lose all his strength, collapsing atop Draco in a spent heap and panting against his throat. "Is it...?"

No, Draco wanted to say. No, it's never like that. But Harry didn't finish the thought and Draco only tightened his arms around his lover and held on tightly.



Lee finished talking to the dragon tamers about their win and what they planned to do with their newfound wealth. Ron had listened with half an ear; he didn't care that Brendan planned to travel and Nigel wanted to open a dragon rescue clinic.

Finally, Lee turned his attention to Harry and Malfoy.

"Despite the fact that Brendan and Nigel won the race, I have to say that you two have stolen the limelight. Were you surprised by the reaction?"

Harry shook his head. "No, not surprised. Well, possibly a bit surprised. I expected more of a negative reaction, but most of the cards and letters have been remarkably supportive. I really thank all of you for that." Harry lifted a hand and waved, speaking to the watching audience. Ron had to smile.

"So, it was a week ago, right after Episode Five was shown, that you realized your secret was out. How did you find out?"

"When you came to inform us that there was footage and asked if it was all right to let it be shown."

"Even though they had signed agreements that all filmed material was property of the WBS?" Rita demanded.

Lee stared her down and Harry turned his head to look at her without expression. Lee said, "The material in question had been taken during a period when the contestants were not being filmed by official means. It could have been contested as an invasion of privacy."

Rita rolled her eyes and snapped, "The public has a right to know what's going on inside the Ministry and beneath Harry Potter's fa�ade of perfection and righteousness."

Harry laughed. "You have enough spies in the Ministry to know exactly what goes on, as your gossip column proves on a daily basis, even though you twist facts and use statements out of context to slant every situation to your own viewpoint."

"I do not!" Rita snapped, hands curling into claws, although it wasn't clear which part of the statement she was denying.

Hermione made a sound of disgust. "Oh, I want to hit her! How can Harry sit next to her without giving her a pinch?"

"Or a punch," Neville muttered.

"She is quite horrible, isn't she?" Luna asked and Ron blinked at her. Usually Luna stood up for everyone.

"Nevertheless, you graciously allowed it to be shown," Lee continued. "And what happened after the episode aired?"

"We got about a thousand owls," Harry admitted with a chuckle. He glanced at Malfoy for the first time. "And some Howlers."

Rita Skeeter looked smug. Ron scowled. Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"And did it change anything between you? You were far... cosier during the final episode."

Harry shook his head and grinned. "No. Not really." He dropped a hand to Malfoy's leg and Malfoy raised an arm to put it over Harry's shoulders, casually, as though he had done it a hundred times. For the first time a smirk twisted his lips. Ron would have been annoyed at the sight, except that he had heard Malfoy's confession in Nepal. "We knew some people would accept our relationship and some would not."

Harry looked worried for the first time and Ron knew the only people whose "acceptance" he cared about were in this room right now. Hermione had sent an owl stating the fact, but Ron knew it wouldn't be the same until Harry saw them in person and witnessed their support.

"Harry, you seem to be doing all the talking here. Draco, how do you feel about all the publicity surrounding your relationship with Harry? Do you think this will affect your job? And how do you plan to deal with the mob that is sure to greet you when you leave the studio tonight?"

They all seemed to hold their breath while Draco frowned as if considering the question. "I don't have an opinion about the publicity, although I would request that the press respect our privacy except when we are available -- by appointment -- to answer questions and take photos. I would like to mention that invasive techniques that lead to slander or libel will be dealt with in the harshest possible fashion." Malfoy leaned forward a bit to look directly at Rita Skeeter, who actually blanched and looked away.

Malfoy continued, "It should not affect our job in the slightest, except that we will likely watch out for one another more than we did in the past."

Ron laughed aloud at that. "Instead of shoving each other into the line of danger? I suppose that can only be an improvement, yeah?"

"We will most likely deal with 'the mob' by simply Disapparating as soon as we are finished here." Malfoy held up a hand as if to discourage sounds of protest. "My secretary is standing by to await owls and Floo-calls requesting interview appointments."

"Official contact information for Aurors Potter and Malfoy can be received by contacting the WBS offices. I see you are both wearing pearls," Lee added. "Did you acquire those in Tahiti?"

Harry lifted his hand from Malfoy's leg and held his arm next to Malfoy's. The view zoomed in on two silver bracelets set with matching dark green pearls.

"Yeah," Harry said. "We'll be going back in a few months and hope to take a few friends along for a nice long holiday."

Hermione squealed and clapped her hands. "Oh, Ron, we have to go!"

Ron bit his lip, mentally calculating the cost, but he nodded. He could always do some testing work for George at the Wheezes. He shuddered at the idea.

"Brilliant!" Lee said. "Is there anything else you would like the viewers to know before we move on?"

"Only this," Malfoy said and reached up to touch Harry's face. They leaned in to each other and shared a kiss that had Ron blushing to his roots. It lasted far longer than was prudent for family viewing and Lee Jordan finally cleared his throat. Only then did they pull apart, but the way they gazed into each other's eyes left Ron no doubt that what was between them was serious and possibly permanent.

"Oh, wow," said Luna. "That was beautiful."

"Yeah," admitted Ron. "Yeah, I suppose it was. I guess they won the race after all."



THE END



♥ Please return to LJ and leave a comment for the author. ♥


Disclaimer:
All recognisable Harry Potter characters and settings in this work of fanfiction are the property of JK Rowling and her associates.
No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work.