A/N: Sorry guys, I have been on a sort of hiatus caused partially by falling out of my pattern by my trip. I thought about dropping the project because this semester is shaping up to look pretty awful but I decided that I missed writing Draco Malfoy dialogue so here I am! I will try to get back to my every other week thing now that I am back in action.

I thought about taking pictures of the beach Harry was at but then I decided that it was too dark and cold and I preferred blowing off fireworks to running around dark beaches.

Wwwwwww

Harry woke up with a sharp headache and an uncomfortable feeling in his belly. Groaning he reached for his nightstand to find the whiskey that he always kept there to counteract the affects of his frequent hangovers. He gave a unintelligible grunt of frustration when he found nothing there. What the hell? Who moved it?

Opening one eye cautiously Harry found that he was in fact not in his room. This was not a pleasant realization to Harry who was now exceedingly eager to start drinking again.

As Harry was deciding how he should deal with this rather surprising situation, the door opened cautiously and the lights went on.

Harry promptly dived under the covers to avoid the light.

"Hm, hung over I see. Well that is hardly a surprise. There is a shower in the bathroom adjoining this room and if you feel the need to be ill you had better do it in the toilet or I will personally kill you," Said the voice who had so cruelly turned on the lights.

"Where the hell am I?" Harry grunted.

"We don't remember last night either? Well then, all the more reason to get up and come have some breakfast while we still have some sunshine," the voice said sounding mildly amused, "I expect you to be out here in at least 20 minutes," and the voice left, unfortunately leaving the lights on.

Harry groaned and considered going back to sleep. If it was light out that meant that he deserved a good four hours more sleep. In fact, he wasn't sure that he had ever seen the sun in the Winter as he tended to sleep through that brief days.

Deciding it would be best not to argue with the person who seemed intent on giving him a hard time, Harry fell out of bed and found his way to the bathroom where he washed up.

Stumbling out of his room, Harry found himself in a hallway that led to a Kitchen where he found of all people, Draco Malfoy.

"What the hell are you doing here, Malfoy?" Harry spat not too kindly.

"Good morning, sunshine. I saved your ass last night so I suggest you drop the attitude," Draco said as he placed some food and coffee on the table.

"I don't want any, food makes me sick," Harry said as he slumped at the table pulling the coffee towards him.

"Oh yes, I am i sure /i the food is to blame for you becoming ill. It has nothing to do with the excessive amounts of alcohol you seem to be consuming, does it?" Draco drawled sarcastically.

Harry just stared into the coffee and wondered if he could convince Malfoy to spike it.

"Well, I must say, I was rather surprised to see you last night. What are you doing here?" Draco asked as he tucked into his breakfast.

Harry took a sip of the bitter drink.

"Why do you care Malfoy. Anyway, I might ask the same of you," Harry grumbled, "trying to run away like the Nazis? Running away just to be found twenty years later to be tried for crimes against humanity?"

"I have no idea what a 'Nazi' is but I assure that that is not the case. Well, the running away part perhaps, but not the crimes against humanity part," Draco said ponderously.

Harry snorted.

"Right, killing all those people for some slimy dark lord, no, of course not, not a crime against humanity at all,"

"You have no idea what you are talking about Potter. Believe it or not, you were not privy to everything going on during the war thanks to your stupid plan to run off on your own and find the Dark Lord instead of returning to Hogwarts where there were people who could, and would, help you," Draco spat, now sounding slightly irritated.

"And were you one of those people, Malfoy? Oh yes, let me help Harry Potter. Oh wait, never mind, my father wouldn't let me. He would get angry and stop sending me letters from Azkaban," Harry drawled mockingly.

Some pink tinged Draco's cheeks.

"Once again Potter, you have managed to prove to me your complete idiocy. Even so, you are hardly the most wonderful individual. You run off into battle, looking for certain death, without the help of people who actually know what the hell is going on. Did it ever occur to you that a 17-year-old wizard is not old enough to figure out how to kill Voldemort? So then you get lucky with the help of some people who manage to find you at convince you to take assistance. And when you defeat Voldemort and become a hero, what do you do? Do you stay to help rebuild the wizarding world? No! You run off without a word to any of your friends or comrades. Very heroic Potter, very heroic,"

Harry jumped up and threw the coffee mug at the wall.

"Fuck you, Malfoy! You have no idea what I went through, what I had to do!"

Harry ran over to the alcohol cabinet and pulled out the first bottle he could find a drained it.

Draco sighed and fixed the cup. This was not quite how he intended this to turn out.

"Potter, if you would kindly stop draining me of my alcohol supplies and sit over here on the couch we can talk like civilized wizards,"

Harry glared at Draco for a moment and grabbing a whiskey bottle walked over to living room and on to the couch.

"Alright, so, before you started throwing my crockery around, we were attempting to discuss how we found ourselves on this godforsaken island," Draco said evenly as he sunk into an armchair, "Perhaps you would like to enlighten me on how you found yourself here? I must admit that running across you last night was a bit of a surprise,"

"You first," Harry said as he took a few large gulps of whiskey.

Draco sighed with exasperation.

"Fine, just don't throw my stuff around anymore. I am here because at the end of the war very few people understood my role in the grand scheme of things and since no one wanted my help in the rebuilding I moved here to avoid being treated like a second class citizen,"

"And what heavenly role did you play Malfoy? You seemed just as evil as the rest," Harry spat before taking another swing.

"I have nothing to prove to you Potter. If you want to think that I am an evil Death Eater, fine, think that. I never put much clout in your intelligence anyway,"

"Fine," Harry replied after finishing off the bottle.

"Now you tell me, what are you doing here? Why did you run away from everything?" Malfoy inquired.

Harry's eyes turned shadowy as if he was seeing something that was not in the room.

"Things happened during that war, thing that I don't really want to think about. I am not drunk enough, oh God," Harry stammered. He seemed to be loosing more and more self-control as he continued finally bursting into tears.

Draco sat in this chair, stunned. He was not at all sure how to proceed; he had expected a great number of things to come of this conversation but none of them was to have the Man-Who-Killed-Voldemort bawling on his sofa.