Several wizarding teenagers were kidnapped and brought to an island full of danger. Their only goal is to survive...
--PART ONE--
"Hey guys... it's nice to see you again," Harry said tiredly... he was noticeably paler than usual, but he looked triumphant. The last horcrux had been destroyed.
The next time he met Voldemort, one of them was going to die. And Harry was going to make sure it wasn't him. Standing around him, in a half circle, was his closest friends. Five friends, bound by trust and the desire to rid the world of You-Know-Who and his
Deatheaters.
"Oh, Harry!" Hermione threw her arms around him in a tight embrace, immediately followed by Ron who slapped Harry's shoulder lightly, then hugged him briefly.
Neville shook Harry's hand solemnly, honestly relieved that the dark-haired wizard had come back safe and sound. Harry was one of the few people that believed in him.
Ginny held back awkwardly. Before Harry had left, they had broken up. Fought over something stupid and insignificant... that none-the-less caused a rift between them. She gave him a slightly forced smile, and asked him quietly, "So he's vulnerable now?"
As Harry nodded, and told them what had taken place, Draco snorted. He'd watched the reunion of Harry-Bloody-Perfect-Potter and his lackeys. Pathetic. At least the prat will kill off the Dark Lord... or at least weaken him enough that Draco could kill the psychopathic creature himself. Voldemort had definitely snapped...
Hermione, who has always been somewhat high-strung, jumped when she heard Draco's snort and turned towards the sound. Reaching for her wand. Her eyes narrowed dangerously when she saw who it was. "Malfoy," she said sharply.
"Bloody hell," Draco muttered, as the group took notice of him. He hadn't meant for a confrontation. And it was five to one, he hadn't a chance. He began to back away slowly, though he was ready to grab his wand if it came to a fight.
"Malfoy, you damned Ferret, you better have a good reason for being here," Ron said coldly, freckles standing out clearly against his skin pale with fury. As far as Ron was concerned, as far as pretty much everyone was concerned, it was Draco Malfoy's fault that Albus Dumbledore was dead. Snape might've killed him, but if it wasn't for Malfoy none of the Deatheaters could've gotten into Hogwarts.
Draco just gave him a dark look. Seriously, if looks could kill... let's just say that if Malfoy could do wandless magic, Ron would be extremely dead.
"Let's just go," Harry sighed, before anything got out of hand. Ron looked like he would protest, but at one look at his friend's exhausted face, he gave up. They turned away from Draco almost simultaneously.
Hermione shrieked as some large shadowy thing came out of the sky at them. Ron twirled to face Draco again, livid. "What did you do, you bloody Deatheater? What is that!"
Malfoy was staring up at the Thing with as much confusion as everyone, and cold fear had settled in his stomach. "I didn't do anything, Weasel!" It was obvious, as he didn't have his wand in hand.
Then the Thing swooped down on them and all was dark...