Harry politely opened the door for Tracey into their private room, scooting in behind her to close the door with a gentle push of the lock. The room was decked out exactly as the others: white furniture, walls and flooring, ceiling lights, and fully capable of being altered in a moment by either party should they ask the Room of Requirement to do so. Tracey looked about, blushing. "Wow, it's…
really... white."
Harry considered it and nodded. "Yeah, kind-of uncomfortable. I'll fix it, if you'll let me?" They glanced at each other and she nodded, looking shyly down at the floor almost immediately.
With a thoughtful request, the room altered about them. The white shag carpet became a plush dark green, the walls a very light grey, and the furniture blended to match. He also requested a fireplace against the back wall instead of a bed, and set a magical flame to it. The final piece was a comfy, fabric two-seater sofa in front of the fire that was black, designed so they could get to know each other better. He'd tried for Slytherin colors, hoping to put her more at ease.
He lowered the light in the room so that it was a more intimate atmosphere. "Better?" His partner looked about with a smile and relaxed visibly. "Much, thank you."
He indicated with a polite arm that she sit on the couch ahead of him, choosing her seat as she wished, as was proper for a man to do. He then took his place beside her. "You drew first," he reminded her lightly, trying to keep things as stress-free as possible between them, given the awkward situation. "But, before we begin, maybe we should introduce ourselves properly?" He smiled at her gently. "I mean, I know you from around classes, but we've never actually spoken, I believe."
Davis hesitantly held out a hand to shake, her pretty lips turning up in an honest smile. "Tracey Marie Davis."
Harry smiled brightly and shook her small, dainty hand. "Harry James Potter." They let go immediately at the same time, and looked away, apparently both bashful about such things. "So, um… would you like to read your card first?" he offered again.
Tracey blushed. "Oh, yes, of course." She held it up and read it aloud:
DEED: Your partner must give you a sensual foot and leg massage with a nice scented oil of your choice.
He almost adjusted his non-existent glasses again, reminded himself with a mental slap to knock it off, and instead scratched the side of his face. "Well, as Deedsgo – and I don't know about you, but I did get a chance to read all of my Housemates cards in advance – that one is rather pleasant to start off, I think," he chirped, trying to make it easier on both of them. The pretty blonde girl nodded. "Yes, I think we could both enjoy this."
They sat for another minute, neither moving. Behind Harry's chest, his heart started beating a little faster.
"Right, so, what oil scent do you want to try?" he asked, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt, rolling up the sleeves and kneeling down by her side, waiting.
She considered it, biting her lip. "Um… honestly? I've never done this before – get a massage, I mean - so I wouldn't know," she admitted. "You choose."
Harry's eyebrows lowered in confusion. No one had ever given her a massage before? Tragic! It had been one of his favorite things to do with Marietta Edgecombe while they'd been dating. "Well, you're in for a treat, then," he explained, cracking his knuckles and twirling his wrists to stretch them out. "I happen to be a massage expert." He glanced up at her through his dark lashes. "Do you like the smell of peppermint? It has a refreshing, cooling effect for the feet and legs."
Tracey nodded without a second's thought. "Sounds nice. I'll trust you, Harry."
His stomach flipped at her words and at the sincere look of faith in her hazel-colored eyes. Merlin, she was really pretty, wasn't she? "Okay," he stuttered, then summoned a bottle of peppermint oil into his hands. Indicating her dress, he nodded at her. "May I?"
She acquiesced easily, and Harry respectfully lifted the hem to above her knees… and nearly got blown away with the exquisite beauty of her bared calves, ankles and feet. Secretly, Harry had a thing for touching a girl here, finding these spots sensually erotic on a woman. With delicate care, he removed her strapping sandal heels from her feet one at a time. Her toenails, he noted, were very well cared for and she'd given herself a pedicure with matching purple nail polish before coming to tonight's game.
A girl who cared for her feet was such a total turn-on for him.
Glancing up at her, he indicated that she should lie back into the cushions of the sofa and enjoy what he was about to do. Following instructions, she watched him not out of suspicion, but out of genuine curiosity about the process of a foot massage.
With another silent thought, Harry conjured a towel to lay over his lap and piped in some soothing Enya to play in the background, thinking of his favorite artist's 'Watermark' CD, feeling awkward with the silence that would, he knew, ensue as soon as he started rubbing her feet. Tracey seemed surprised by the music and tensed up.
"Relax," he soothed her. "Just a bit of Muggle music to make the atmosphere peaceful, so you can enjoy."
"Oh," Tracey replied and immediately did as he bade.
Rubbing the oil between his palms and then rubbing them together to heat them up, Harry began smoothing the slick fluid over her foot, inhaling the sharp minty bouquet on the air with a sigh of contentment. Peppermint had a nice odor on both the breath and the body. Applying the proper pressure to the bottom of her right foot, he moved his thumbs over the top, smoothing the muscles there first. Moving with tender attention, he then rubbed the pad at the base of her toes, where he was sure there was pain from the height of her heels. Tracey inhaled and then exhaled deeply in pleasure, and her muscles just seemed to let go at that point as she fluidly melted into the furniture.
"Good?" he asked, continuing on down to the arch of her foot, applying just the proper pressure as he rubbed in outwardly-curving circles with his thumbs.
She nodded. "Oh, yes," she harmonized in sincere enjoyment, and as he moved to her heel, rubbing it in a circular motion, she moaned and leaned back into the couch, closing her eyes fully, willing herself into his capable hands. "That feels wonderful."
Warmth suffused his chest at her words and the expression upon her features.
He hadn't felt such a thing for another person since Ginny. It was a queer, nervous feeling he was experiencing just then, but at the same time, it filled him with hopeful anticipation. Perhaps this game was going to present him with an opportunity here…
"Good," he whispered, then continued, working on her individual toes next, then her ankle, then calf. As he moved the towel to his shoulder and rested her leg on it, so he could get to the back of her knee, her dress accidentally moved, giving him a glimpse of her soft, rounded thighs. Her legs were strong – not a runner's musculature, but definitely indicative of some sort of athletic activity aside from climbing the stairs of Hogwarts. "Are you a dancer?" he chanced a guess.
Tracey's eyes flew open. "How did you know?"
He continued to massage her knee. "Your build. You're tall, thin and have great legs."
He blushed at his own candidness, but thankfully his partner did not reply. Concentrating on continuing the massage, he moved back down her calf, reversing his path from earlier, assuring he'd gotten every last knot out before letting her go. When he'd finished with the right leg, he took up its twin and repeated the process, not speaking, letting Tracey enjoy the experience, absorbing himself in the act as well.
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