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Chapter 3:

Dearth-y Day

"It's just," Harry whined, "you'd think that the man would understand that it's not just the taste of coconuts that I hate. It's the sight and the smell and their disgusting little bodies, and how impossible they are to open, and how they always make people in movies who live on deserted islands live off of them."

"That's because they're generally the only bloody thing there, Potter. But thanks to you, we don't even have that."

"There's plenty of food in the hut," Harry waved towards the house-type structure that they had finally gotten to the right side of the island to see.

"Plenty for how long, you Moron? There's no telling how long we'll be here."

Harry scrunched his nose at Malfoy. "We'll probably only be here for a couple hours, a day at most. My friends, for one, wouldn't leave me here with you."

Draco scoffed. "Maybe they want you stuck here with my hot body so that you'll loosen up some. Honestly Potter, how did you get so tightly wound?"

Harry ignored Malfoy in favor trying to flick some of the sand out of the cuffs of his trousers.

"Why do you reckon they never have a scene where the stranded person has to figure out if it is a coconut or it isn't?" Harry asked. "Because, you know, they don't really look like their little brown furry selves when they come off of the tree…"

"For God's sake, shut-up about the coconuts!"

"Coco-nots."

"Whatever."

"Yeah," Harry sighed. "Malfoy?"

"If you ask me about that sugarplum thing again, then so help me, I'm going to use my wand in ways that Olivander never intended—which is saying something, because that man…"

"Ewh…"

"Yep," Malfoy said tightly, "so just shut your mouth about it."

"Aye, aye," Harry saluted.

Draco grunted. "How big is this bit of turf anyway? It feels like we've been walking all day."

"Half an hour."

"What? We're half an hour away from that shack?" Malfoy gestured towards the horizon.

"No it's only been half an hour, but if it makes you feel better, you could whine about it."

"Oh shut-up."

Harry turned his head to hide his smile. "Course, that half-hour is only counting since you had your little episode where you found the coco—"

"Ok, ok! Let's just…let's not start that rant again." Draco shuffled his feet, accumulating small sandboxes in his shoes. He sighed. "Why do you think we showed up on the wrong side of the island anyway?"

"Dunno, Dumbledore and I must have miscalculated the portkey."

Draco looked at Harry in disbelief. "You could have ended up in the middle of the bloody ocean. At least," he frowned, "the make-believe ocean…which might not be as dangerous…"

"Oh, it's a real ocean," Harry said.

"What? I thought we were on an imaginary island?"

"Well the island isn't really fake, it's just—new—and it's in a real ocean. I mean, it had to be somewhere real." He gestured expansively. "This is the Caribbean. So really, it's a sea." Harry looked thoughtful. "But yeah, that was a bad mix-up about the portkey. I don't understand how it could have happened. It's not like I charmed it; Dumbledore set it."

Draco rolled his eyes. "He's not infallible, Potter."

Harry glared at Malfoy. "He wouldn't be flippant about my safety."

"Oh, obviously not. I mean he's gone to all the trouble of creating you this fabulous inescapable island—which, have I mentioned? Is bloody hot! Not only that, but he indulged you and left it coconut free, which means… food free—and not only that, but he's stuck you here with me by making your activation word…" Draco trailed off and blushed.

The beginning of Malfoy's speech had started to get Harry angry, but when he had babbled on into a discussion of "the word" as Harry had come to refer to it in his mind, he was amused. "Making my activation word what? Such a common word?" Harry snickered.

Draco scowled out to sea, and they trudged on interminably towards the shack that he was sure was beginning to behave in a very 'Through the Looking Glass' kind of way. "What sort of food do you have?" he finally asked. "I'm starving."

"How can you be hungry? We'd just come out of lunch when you attacked me."

"Yeah, well, I eat a lot. Get over it."

"But you're so thin."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Have you been scoping my waist, Potter? Or, maybe you were staring at my arse and my thin-ness was just in your way?"

"Maybe you've got a fucking tape worm."

Draco's smile turned into a sneer. "You're much thinner than me, though I must say for sheer quantity of food Weaselby has me beat. In fact, I think he eats more than me and Crabbe and Goyle all together. Do you suppose he got his tape worm from the swine they raise in their 'house'?"

Harry glared down at the sand and refused to rise to the bait. Luckily they'd gotten close enough to the shack that he could put on some speed and beat Malfoy there. He did, and slammed the door and locked it.

"Potter! You let me in this bloody shack you asshole!"

"Go find your own fucking shack, this one's mine."

"Oh grow up, you git. There's not another one."

"How do you know?"

"Potter! I will not yell through this door at you! Open up, or I'll…I'll…"

Harry opened the door a crack. "Huff and puff and blow it down?" he asked.

Draco heaved a frustrated sigh.

"That's the spirit," Harry said. "But I think, you'll have to put more force behind it if you really want to accomplish…"

Draco pushed his way into the hut and slammed the door behind them. "Shut-up. And you really must stop annoying me because I can't keep saying shut-up all the time. My voice will get stuck in that pained tone."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Get out," he said, pushing Malfoy back towards the door as he opened it.

"No. Potter, stop it. Where the hell do you think I'll go?" Draco said, the panic barely creeping into his voice.

"I don't care where you go, but you're not staying here with me. You're an awful person…and there's no telling what you'd do while I was sleeping."

"Pfft," Draco scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself."

Harry continued to glare and try to push Malfoy out of the door.

"Oh come on, Potter." He was really beginning to panic now. "Don't make me go out there alone. It's hot and it'll get dark and then it will be night and I can't be outside at night all by myself I don't like the bugs and the animals and …don't you know that most man-eaters are nocturnal! What if Dumbledore thought I'd be a great joke to put werewolves out there?"

Harry had stopped pushing somewhere in the middle of Malfoy's panic attack. It was a disturbing sight. "You have to apologize for that comment about Ron, and you have to promise to … to at least try and curb those comments about my friends while we're here. I really couldn't give a fuck what you say about me, but if you insult my friends again I'll kick you out so fast that you'll never get the purple sand out of your ass."

Draco nodded, his fingers whitening from the grip he maintained on the doorjamb. "I will, and I'm sorry … I'm sure Weasel—Ron's a…I'll stop insulting him in front of you, just don't make me…please, Potter, let me stay inside."

Harry relented and backed across the room, and Draco heaved a sigh of relief.

"Boy," Draco looked around. "When you said shack you really meant it."

Harry growled low in his throat. "I called it a hut."

Dinner had been an interesting meal of hard crusty bread and dried fruit. It seemed, that the return portkey was not the only thing that they had not gotten around to stocking the island with. Harry had become despondent at that point, and lay on the bed nearly comatose with worry. Draco had taken the opportunity to whine about anything that he could think of, but nothing seemed to crack Harry's shell.

When Harry finally fell asleep Draco didn't have the heart to wake him up, and whine about getting to sleep on the bed, so he curled up in a chair by the fireplace and fretted about his position. He knew, that his father would expect him to kill Potter in his sleep.

When Harry woke up in the middle of the night and saw that Draco had fallen asleep in the chair he was surprised. He nudged him gently, trying to wake him, but the boy was evidently a heavy sleeper. He debated with himself for ten minutes, but finally hauled Malfoy out of the chair and over to the bed. Draco snuggled into the covers contentedly and his eyes cracked open to stare blearily at Harry.

"It's just…" Draco mumbled. "It's just that my mummy doesn't like me to curse, and so she told me to say other things an' other things are like, oh sugar, and biscuits, and sugarplum…"

Harry laughed at the sleepy boy. "I know," he whispered.

As quietly as he could, Harry left the hut.