Author's Notes: I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter enough to continue on. I very much appreciate reviews, so if you've read thus far and liked (or didn't like) my story, please review with praise, flames, constructive criticism, or anything you feel I should know. Please enjoy!

"Huh."

Draco was dazed and confused. What had Potter gotten them into now? It was painfully hot. Draco hated beaches. He hated sun. It burned his skin and made him look like an onion. He also hated forests. Especially large, unfamiliar and daunting jungles. He glanced over at Potter and scowled. This was his entire fault. Draco had only been trying to get them out of that messed. He'd been trying to help Potter, Heaven forbid, but then Potter had to botch it all up by thinking he was attacking and casting some funny spell Draco hadn't heard before. Which was saying something, because Draco had gone through spell book after spell book looking for something to get him out of this whole war mess. He'd never wanted to be in it to begin with, but now here he was on a deserted island with his greatest enemy in the world.

Sweat began to drip down his forehead and he scowled. Great. Now he was sweating. Malfoys didn't sweat! It was unbecoming and wet and disgusting. He needed to get out of this mess and fast, because he could practically feel his skin burning as he stood there. There was only one way to get off a strange, foreign desert island. Apparating. He went to concentrate on good old practically sunless Scotland, but a 'pop' startled him and he noticed that Potter was gone. His scowl deepened. Even if Potter had been the first to apparate, he was sure he had thought of it first.

And as he went to again concentrate on the crumbled Hogwarts, another 'pop' startled him and it was quickly followed by an 'oof' as Potter tumbled into the sand. His eyes narrowed. Why had he come back? Perhaps he'd botched it. Of course he had, Potter hadn't half a brain to apparate properly and so far away. He'd probably apparated himself into the middle of the ocean and had to come back before he drowned. Draco folded his arms and once again concentrated on Scotland. He felt the familiar darkness swell and with a 'pop' he was gone.

Quite suddenly, he was being thrown backwards and he, too, tumbled into sand. And Potter was there, snorting in laughter at him. Stupid Potter. But he hadn't time to think of that. How come he couldn't apparate? This must be some sort of wizard's tropical island paradise and had probably put anti-apparition wards on it. Well, he'd just have to go and find the wizard that owned the place, perhaps get some sort of balm for his burning flesh, and go back home. He looked around, hoping to find some clue as to which way he should go, but found nothing. Just an expanse of large, scary jungle and sand. Lots and lots of sand. He sighed heavily.

"I could've told you that you couldn't apparate out of here," Potter said, suddenly very close to him. Draco lurched away from the scarred boy and gave his most threatening and upset scowl. He did not like his private space to be invaded, especially by spectacled, annoying Boy Wonders. "Why aren't you killing me?"

Draco choked, torn between laughing and shock. Only Potter would think so highly of himself to think that anyone who wasn't his friend or close ally would be trying to kill him. Draco wondered vaguely if Potter even had half a brain. How had he honestly survived so many attacks from Voldemort? "I'm not killing you because it probably wouldn't help getting me off an island in the middle of nowhere," he stated, giving Potter a look of incredible boredom. "And you'll note that I didn't cast 'Avada Kedavra' back in the forest. If I'd wanted to kill you, I'd have done it then."

Potter looked confused. Trust Potter to get confused at the simplest of things.

"So you don't want to kill me?"

Draco sighed exasperatedly. If he wasn't so keen on getting off this blasted island, he might've killed Potter right then just for being annoying and stupid. Voldemort had the right idea of wanting to cleanse the earth, but Draco thought he probably should've changed muggles and muggleborns to immensely stupid people. Like Potter. If he ever decided to become an evil overlord, that would be what he'd want to do. People would probably thank him, too. Shower him with gifts and such. But now was certainly not the time to be thinking on world domination.

"Potter, would you do us both a favor, and go into that jungle and die?" Draco said, sounding very tired of all this. "Let me think." Potter seemed a lost, ugly puppy, and Draco rolled his eyes. He trudged off in the direction of the jungle, hoping for some shade that would shelter him from the sweltering heat. Why couldn't they have been stranded on a not-so-tropical island? Maybe one in the North Atlantic.

The heat wasn't any better in the shade. The jungle was eerily quiet and shivers went up Draco's spine, which was certainly not caused by any breeze, since there wasn't any. He was sure he should've heard some sort of bird baying or monkeys or something, but there was nothing. Except Potter's slow footsteps as he dragged himself over to where Draco had sat. Couldn't the boy leave him alone for a few seconds?

Potter sat in the sand only a few feet away from Draco, and lay back, spreading his limbs out. With a roll of his eyes, Draco turned his attention to the dark of the forest. He had a small epiphany and he pulled out his wand again, hoping that magic could tell him where they were. First, he set his wand on his palm and waited for it to indicate which way was north. Apparently north was directly behind him, the wand pointing far into the jungle. Then he cast a spell that summoned a small translucent globe and a red light appeared in what should have been there location. Somewhere in South Pacific. But then, the red light bounced from the South Pacific, to the North Pacific. And then to the South Atlantic. Then it darted around and landed in the Black Sea, and Draco put his head in his hand. Apparently, magic was not keen on working correctly on this strange island.

The light was now blinking in the middle of Russia. They were certainly not in Russia.

"Well, that didn't work," Potter said, who was staring in fascination at the floating globe. Draco scowled at the scarred boy, before waving his wand and canceling the spell. They couldn't apparate, nor could they even identify where they were. Grumpily, Draco stood up and peered into the forest. He was thirsty and there wasn't any fresh water source nearby that he could see. They'd have to search for one. It was going to take him a long time to figure this one out, and he certainly didn't want to spend that time on a beach that was bound to burn his flesh right off.

As he started into the jungle, a hand gripped his wrist and he turned sharply to face Potter, who was staring intently at him. He shivered again, and again this was not caused by any sort of breeze. In truth, he couldn't figure out what had caused him to shiver. He grimaced when he realized Potter's hands were sweaty, and pulled his wrist promptly out of the boy's grip.

"What?" he snapped irritably, folding his arms over his chest and scowling.

"Are you sure you should go in there?" Potter said, peering past Draco and into the dark, threatening looking jungle. "I mean – we don't know where we are much less what might be in there."

Draco sighed exasperatedly, wishing that, if he had to be stuck on an island, he could have been stuck with someone who wasn't so entirely stupid.

"Potter, I'm a fully trained wizard, as are you. There's nothing in that jungle that could possibly harm us," Draco said reassuringly, possibly more for his own sake than Potter's, though he felt slightly abashed at the thought that Potter didn't even think he could handle himself in this situation. He would certainly prove him wrong. "Really," Draco said with a roll of his eyes. "You'd think you were eleven years old."

And with that, Draco turned on his heel, nearly falling back into the sand but managing a save that rescued both himself and his dignity, and stomped forward into the jungle. He had only gone a few meters into the jungle when he found himself needing to cast Lumos to see anything that wasn't a foot in front of him. Despite the darkness, it was still muggy and hot, and before long, Draco found his clothes sticking to him most uncomfortably.

There was a snap of a twig somewhere behind him, and Draco turned and with a start, realized he'd lost his view of the beach completely. Darkness enclosed around him, he suddenly began to feel a bit Closterphobic. There was stomping and branches breaking, and Draco couldn't tell which direction it was coming from. His heart leapt into his throat, and he gripped his wand tighter. He wasn't afraid of anything this jungle held in store, certainly not. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck, not from being particularly frightened, but from being particularly hot.

"You could have waited for me," Potter's voice said suddenly from behind Draco, and he jumped slightly at the intrusion, before getting an overwhelming urge to find a very large stick and beat the Gryffindor with it. "I've marked the tree's so we can find our way back if we have to," Potter added, looking faintly amused at Draco's startled expression, causing a scowl to cloud the Death Eater's features.

"Fantastic," Draco said sarcastically, before turning and beginning his valiant march north. It took nearly an hour before they found themselves hiking upward and out of the jungle. Before long, they came to a large hill, of which when they stood at the top, they could see down onto the beach they had come from, and into an eastern valley that stretched north. They could also faintly see a stream running from one end of the valley to another, and Draco promptly decided to head that way. Potter was of another mind, however.

"Look," Potter said, just as Draco began heading towards the valley. "Just beyond the hills there."

Potter was pointing north, and Draco followed his line of vision. Draco noted that this island was abysmally large, and there was a range of hills perhaps five kilometers from where they stood. Just beyond the hills, however, there was a stream of smoke trailing upwards and dissipating into the sky. Draco was indignant about Potter's discovery, but he had to admit heading to the smoke was probably the best idea, since smoke usually indicated people.

Still, Draco shoved his hands into his pockets and looked sour. "We should head into the valley. There's no way we could make it there before dark, anyway. Because this is all your fault, I think I should get to decide."

Potter whirled around to face Draco, and he realized that this was probably not a smart thing to say when all alone with one's enemy.

"My fault?" Potter said, his voice rising, but he still looked vaguely guilty. "I think this is both of our faults. Our spells reacted with each other and sent us here." After a moment's pause, in which Draco rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest, Potter spoke again. "What spell did you cast, anyway?"

Draco stared at Potter for a moment before deciding it was safe to answer. "A time stopping spell."

Potter, unsurprisingly, gaped at him like a guppy out of water.

"A time stopping spell? That's dark magic!"

"It is not," Draco grumped. "It would only have been dark magic if I had planned on stopping time and killing you while you were frozen."

"Weren't you?"

"Of course not, you git. I already told you I have no intention of killing you. Ever," he added for effect, relishing in the look Potter gave him. He looked as dumb and confused as one could possibly ever look. "I planned on stopping time and leaving. The war is stupid and I want nothing to do with it."

"Nothing to do with it? You practically killed Dumbledore!" Potter said, recovering from his moment of surprise.

"One, I didn't kill Dumbledore, Snape did. Two, both Snape and Dumbledore are expert Occlumens and Legillimens. Snape said that Dumbledore practically begged him to kill him," Draco said, raising his chin ever so higher as though he were much better informed and much more important than Potter. "And three, I was protecting my family. If you had a family, you might know what that's like."

Draco knew exactly when he crossed the line, because soon after he had said this, his nose was throbbing painfully, and blood dripped down his chin. Of course Potter would resort to childish violence. It seemed to make Potter feel better though, since he looked considerably more cheerful.

"I suppose we can go into the valley first then and make camp."

"Gread," Draco said, trying to stop his bloody nose. It took every amount of self-control he possessed to keep himself from hexing Potter into oblivion. Potter started off down the hill and towards the valley with the stream, and Draco had no choice but to follow him.

"What spell did you cast?" Draco asked, once he had successfully stopped his nose from bleeding and they were deep into the eerily quiet jungle again. He only spoke to break the unnatural silence. Since they had begun their hike, he hadn't seen any birds. Not even any insects. It was strange and somewhat alarming, but had pushed this as far as possible into the back of his mind. Potter began to walk quicker after Draco had asked his question, and cleared his throat uncomfortably. Potter mumbled something that Draco couldn't hear.

"What did you say?" Draco pestered, moving closer to Potter as to hear him better.

"I said I cast an object moving spell."

Puzzled, Draco ventured to question exactly what Potter meant by 'object moving spell'.

"I tried to move you and the rest of the Death Eaters away from Hogwarts. I was sort of thinking of an island as far away from Scotland as possible. Um," Potter continued, and Draco halted, suddenly feeling very, very angry. "… An island that they, um… Couldn't exactly get off of."

Potter nearly lost an ear when a large rock came whizzing past his head, and he turned to face a very angry, and very affronted looking Draco.

"This IS all your fault!" Draco shouted in distress, a shout that echoed through the empty jungle. "Do you know how complicated that kind of spell is? Do you know how many people have actually completed a spell like that properly? And it's never supposed to be used on people! Now look! We're stuck in a jungle God knows where, and it's all your fault!" Draco threw another rock at the last word, which would have caught Harry in the chin had he not ducked.

Quite suddenly, there was a large crash from the direction in which they had just come. Both boys jumped and Draco swung around. The canopy of the tree's was swaying in a non-existent breeze, and there was yet another crash. And another. It was growing steadily closer, and Draco backed up until he was standing just a little behind Potter. He wasn't a coward; he was just making sure that whatever it was ate the Boy Wonder first.

Just as suddenly as the crashing had started, it stopped. There was a moment of completely silence, where the underbrush rustled and out burst the strangest thing Draco had ever seen. It certainly did not look harmless, however it did look very – playful. The thing bounded towards the two boys and Draco shoved Potter towards it.

You see, what Draco was looking at was what was commonly known as a Dragon Half-breed. A very rare specimen, it is something that is nearly impossible to create. This one was particularly startling because of the images it conjured in one's mind. It appeared, at first, to be a dog. A very large dog, whose head nearly came up to Draco's chin when it was standing on all four paws. But as it drew closer, one could see the fine details of the scales that covered its massive body, from its nose right to the tip of it's wagging tail. To add to this startling image, it had reptilian green eyes and two large wings lying flat against it's back.

"What the hell?" Potter said, trying to move away from the half-breed, but Draco stopped him with his hands pressed against the other boy's back, hoping that, if the animal were hungry, it would take Potter and hopefully fill up on the Boy Who Lived. It opened its immensely large mouth and barked so loudly, it left Draco's eardrums ringing.

"I think we should kill it," Draco said quietly as not to anger the strange beast.

"Don't be stupid," Potter said and suddenly stopped pressing against Draco's hand. He moved forward towards the dragon-dog-thing, and Draco slunk even further away, scrunching up his face and closing one eye, not wishing to see the beast devour Potter. The beast gambled forward towards Potter, and Potter gambled forward towards it. It happened so quickly, Draco was unsure if he had seen correctly.

The dragon-dog-thing began licking Potter's face like any normal dog would, and Potter began scratched the dragon-dog-thing behind the ears. Draco gaped. He couldn't help it. Only Potter would be stupid enough to approach a dragon half-breed like that. However, the monstrous dog seemed friendly enough and Draco ventured cautiously forward. Suddenly the beast looked at him and barked, and Draco scrambled away.

"We should leave," he suggested shakily.

"What should we do with it?" Potter asked, glancing back at Draco and indicating the dragon half-breed. Draco stared incredulously.

"Uh. Leave it?" he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He decided to take the moment while the beast was distracted by Potter to make a dash ahead. He didn't need Potter tagging along anyway. Before long, Potter was walking alongside him (albeit a few feet away). Draco bit the inside of his cheek and ignored the fact that he was leading the dragon half-breed along with them.