Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything that relates to it.

Written for History of Magic (Write about traveling and finding something unexpected)

-oOo-

There was much of the world that Draco hadn't seen. He had traveled outside of Britain, but those trips had normally been to family members houses, and even then he was kept in the Magical World. He was ashamed to admit that with the few times he'd explored the Muggle world that he knew very little of the other world.

With the war over, and his name clear, Draco had picked up and set to travel. He couldn't stay in Britain any longer. There were too many glares and accusations from strangers. He couldn't look at his parents any longer, knowing that his father saw him as a disappointment and his mother was just a reminder of the pain he hadn't been able to protect her from. Every time he looked at the house he saw the tear filled face of Granger, the pleading one of Potter, as well as all the other souls that had been tortured and killed there. It was just too much.

So he left. Once given clear to begin his life again, Draco had packed up everything he held essential – which consisted of several books, some photos, clothes and a bit of money – and began to journey. There wasn't a clear destination with these travels. He just needed to leave and see something other than post war Britain.

This is what led him to France. He'd been there several times before as he had family there. But he never really explored it. He was making up for lost time now, and by that it meant he was stopping by a bar before making his way back to his relative's home.

His uncle had pointed out this place to him. They served a drink called Sang de Pixie, translated as simply Pixie Blood, which was a surprisingly delightful shade of blue and tasted strongly of vodka. He was on his second one and debating about where to travel to at the end of the week whenever the man sat down next to him.

It took Draco an extra moment to pay this man mind. His hair was a wild mess of black curls which seemed to have only gotten more out of hand since Draco last saw him. The glasses he sported were as large as he remembered, and as always sat a bit croaked on his nose. He was still lean, but as he slid his jacket off, Draco got a clear sight of the muscle definition in his arms.

He must have been staring for as the man dropped his coat onto the back of the chair, he caught Draco looking at him. Confusion spread over green eyes, followed by a brief light of fear, before finally settling into a calm light. A grin tugged at the corner of his lips. "Well, Malfoy. This is unexpected."

"Could say the same Potter," Draco said, turning back to his drink. He finished the last of it and signaled the barkeep for another. That made three.

The bartender directed his gaze towards Potter and quickly asked for his order in French. Potter looked at the man, clearly not understanding his words. After a moment he replied in heavily broken French. It was enough for the barkeep though who turned to fill the order.

"That was some poor French," Draco commented.

"Hermione tried teaching me," Potter answered. "So far all I know how to say is, 'where's the bathroom', 'where am I', and how to order a drink."

The two fell in silence for a moment as the barkeep returned, handing Harry a glass of frosty beer. Draco looked at his own drink, grimacing at how girly it looked. It tasted good though, and anything with vodka in it was a plus over plain beer.

Harry spoke up, "can I ask what you're doing here?"

"Why?" Draco looked at him from the corner of his eye. A frown was on his lips as he brought the drink to his mouth. "Afraid the big bad Death Eater might be plotting something."

Potter looked a little thrown off by that. He was silent for a moment before shaking his head. "No. But no one has seen or heard from you in nearly three months. Was kind of worried."

"You? Worried? About me?" Draco laughed. "Right. But if you must know, I've been a lot of placed. I've been traveling. What about you? What has the great Harry Potter been up to?"

"Nothing much," Potter replied. He had yet to drink his beer, only shifted the contents about in the glass. "Helped in getting the Ministry up and going again. It's running pretty good. Kingsley is doing a fantastic job as Minister. I needed to get out of there though. Too much attention. Sure it was the same for you."

Draco didn't reply, only frowned down at his glass.

"Decided to travel a bit," Potter finally took a drink of the beer. "Get out of Britain. See the world."

There was silence once more. Somewhere in the back of the bar there was the noise of a billiards game gone sour for someone. The two men, made mortal enemies before they'd even been given a chance to know one another sat in silence together at the bar.

After a few breaths, Draco finished his drink, and made to stand. He dropped some money onto the table to pay his tab. Slipping his jacket on he looked at Potter. For a moment he debated about staying and talking with his long time enemy. He decided better of it, claiming he had places to be. Potter didn't object, only wished him a good day.

-oOo-

When Draco left France at the end of the week, he ended up in Russia. He had long forgotten how much he loved this country. His grandmother on his father's side had been from here. She'd brought with her all the Russian tradition and language that Draco had loved as a kid. When she passed, there hadn't been an excuse for him to head north into the snowy country. Now he didn't need an excuse.

"I think you have a drinking problem." The voice came from his left as it sat next to him at the bar.

Draco didn't look at him, but tilted his drink in acknowledgment. "The fact that you are here as well, means you can't judge"

"Point," Potter said. He ordered his drink and turned to Draco. "So, do you just bar hop from country to country?"

"My cousin owns the place," Draco answered simply. "What about you? Are you stalking me, or am I just that unlucky that we keep meeting."

"Believe me Malfoy, running into you is completely unexpected."

A corner of Draco's lip turned up, "that makes it even worse."

Potter allowed himself to chuckle. "But really, do you do anything other than drink at foreign places."

"I do. But I'd be dense to pass up a good glass of bourbon while I was here."

"Once again, a good point made." Potter took a drink, savoring the flavor. He titled the glass a bit more, encouraging the liquid to flow faster. He shouldn't have though as too much of it poured down his throat. Setting the glass down, he began to cough on the drink. Draco pounded on his back until the brunette's throat was cleared.

"You alright?" He asked.

Harry nodded, pushing his glasses away to rub the wetness from his eyes. "Ya. I'm fine. Just drank too much. Stuff's strong."

"Its Russian bourbon," Draco smirked, "were you expecting pumpkin juice?"

Harry chuckled, righting himself on the bar stool. "Maybe not pumpkin juice. I wasn't expecting gasoline though."

Draco downed the rest of his drink, something that Potter was sure he only did to show off. "Well now you know better. It should be common knowledge how these Russians drink. You shouldn't expect them to go easy on a foreigner."

"Aren't you a foreigner?" Harry asked.

"Technically yes. But I spent enough time here growing up that I know what to expect. Now the question is, why are you here? You obviously didn't come for the liquor."

"Just ended up being the portkey I picked." Harry shrugged. "Decided to go spontaneous with this trip. Just picking a portkey and going wherever it takes me really. What about you? Is there any method to your travel? Other than best places to drink yourself to death that is?"

Draco stared at Potter for a good long moment. Was the Boy-Who-Lived joking with him? It was almost too absurd a thought to process. "Not really. Just looking for a good bourbon really. If you want I can give you the names of some good bars. Maybe you can catch your death there, while I catch mine here."

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm pretty comfortable here." Harry picked his drink back up, careful to drink it slowly this time. Draco only smirked at him, swirling the contents of his glass as they fell into easy conversation.

-oOo-

He should stop being surprised whenever Potter unexpectedly comes across him during what should have been separate travels. After all, Draco was sure the Gryffindor was stalking him. How else could he have shown up here, in Scotland?

"At least it's not a bar this time." Harry smirked as they strolled down the street.

"That's where I was heading actually." Draco said. He took a glance at Potter, pleased to note that he was several inches taller. "The Russian mixes didn't take me out, figured I might as well try the Spirits here."

"There's something wrong with you." But it was said with a teasing, almost friendly air that Draco was quickly getting used to. It was strange, talking with the boy what had been his enemy pretty much since their second encounter together. That past animosity and all the cruel things they had done to one another wasn't completely forgiven and forgotten, but they weren't holding it over each other's head which was a plus.

"So says you," Draco said. He allowed himself to smile a little.

"You mind if I tag along?"

Draco looked sideways at the Gryffindor. For a moment he thought he was kidding. When it was clear he wasn't, Draco answered, "I'm starting to think you can't get enough of me there Potter."

"Oh please, Malfoy," Potter's eyes were rolling, "it has nothing to do with you, and more to do with the fact that you seem to know all the best bars in town."

"And you think I'm an alcoholic." Draco chuckled as he led them towards Micmaddigan's Pub.

-oOo-

It was Spain this time, and once more the two had unexpectedly ended up in the same bar together. Draco was without a doubt positive Potter was stalking him. That was the only reasonable explanation.

"Don't you have people waiting for you back home?" Draco asked after they were a few beers in. "I mean, what does your girlfriend think of you traveling like this?"

"Don't have a girlfriend."

Draco set his glass down. "I thought you and Weaslette were a thing."

"No." Harry shook his head. "We were, but I'm not… we'll that's to say… I don't really… I kind of…"

It clicked in Draco's mind. He smirked at Potter. "Are you into blokes, Potter?"

Potter didn't answer, only frowned down into his beer.

"I mean that's…" Draco trailed off for a moment. "That's totally okay. Nothing wrong with that."

Potter looked at him with a narrowed gaze. "This, coming from you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." Potter backtracked. "It's just, you're the last person I, one, thought I'd be telling this to, and two, would actually listen and not make fun of me about it."

"That fact that you could even think I'd make fun of something like that, shows just how little you really know me."

"You're right," Potter sighed, turning back to his beer, "I really don't know you."

"Hola quapo," the voice came from Draco's side. He glanced over, immediately getting a face full of this woman's large breasts in her low cut top. Her hair fell around in a mass of brown over her tanned skin. When she spoke, it was heavy with her Spanish accent. "Qu`e te trae aqu`i?"

"Viajes," Draco answered simply. He caught sight of Potter giving him strange looks, but didn't turn to him.

"Puedo invitarte a una copa?"

"No gracias," Draco smirked. He leaned towards the woman, "en realidad estoy tratando de echar un polvo por el hombre a mi lado."

The woman straightened up for a moment, a shocked expression on her face. She smiled, wishing him good luck with that, before heading back to her group of friends.

"What was all that about?" Potter asked. "You speak Spanish."

"Spanish, French, English, bit of Russian." Draco answered simply. "My parents believed that I should be bilingual, and I just like to learn. It comes in handy to know the language before you travel. As for that encounter, I apparently am very attractive and that nice woman wanted to have sex with me."

"Really? Why didn't you take her up on the offer?"

"Not my type." Draco answered simply.

"What about her wasn't? The hair, the breast…"

"Something a little more basic than that." It was all Draco said as he picked up his beer and took a drink.

A moment later, realization dawned on Potter. "You like blokes?"

"I like all types," Draco shrugged.

"When did you figure it out?"

"I guess part of me always knew," Draco said. "Looking back, I'm sure it was pretty clear. But it was Blaise that made me really realize."

"Zabini?" Potter asked. "Tall, dark, Slytherin."

"My best friend since we were seven. He got attractive over the years."

"Did it work out between you two?"

"No. He's definitely a fan of the women. And besides, he was too much like a brother. It would have been weird. What about you?"

"It was this git from school," Potter answered with a smirk. "He was a real jerk. Thought he was better than everyone. But for some reason I kind of grew attracted to him."

"Really?"

"Ya, I mean he was a total dick. Capitalize the D. But, I don't know. Under the tough exterior, there was something there. He was sarcastic, never backed down, never took shit from me. Wasn't ever impressed by me. It was a nice change. Kind of liked him. I think we could have been good friends had he not been so full of himself."

"Sounds like a horrible person. Was he at least cute?"

"Gorgeous. And he knew it too. That's the worst part. It didn't help his ego at all."

"Maybe you should go for it," Draco smirked as he downed the rest of his beer. "You never know, it might work out."

"Probably." Potter shrugged. "Where you going after Spain?"

Draco smirked as he said, "Now I know you're stalking me."

"It's not that. But we seem to keep running into one another, might as well just plan it out."

"Maybe I like these unexpected run ins."

"I do too," Potter said, "but there's a music concert in America next weekend. If you didn't have plans, maybe you might want to attend with me."

"I do like America." Draco said thoughtfully. "They deep fry everything. Is this a date Potter?"

"Maybe," the Gryffindor smiled brightly. "It all depends."

Draco turned fully to him, unable to stop the smile from overtaking his lips. "On what?"

"Are you still a git?"

Instead of answering the question, Draco smirked. "So I was your school crush?"

"Still a git I see," Potter said, but the smile was still on his lips.

"But I am adorable. You said so yourself."

"Shut up Draco."

Leaning forward, the Slytherin couldn't help by smile. "I guess I'll be seeing you in America then."

Potter turned to him and leaned forward as well. "I'll be expecting you."

-oOo-
-oOo-
-oOo-

You can't convince me that these two didn't have feelings for one another. Looking back through the books there are two things I am certain of. One, Harry is without a doubt bisexual. Two, Draco had a thing for both Hermione and Harry. You can't convince me otherwise.

I really liked doing this one. It went a lot longer than I originally intended, but I enjoyed it either way. I hope you all did as well.