Author Notes: Thanks for the reviews! I hope you enjoy this chapter, there's finally some action. ;D Poor Draco. He really does get the short end of the stick. Also, special thanks to xOhxSnapx, as usual, and NinjaoftheDarkness. I actually had something different planned, but your review inspired me. :D Onward, troops!

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It was early. Too early. He didn't want to be awake, but Potter's snores kept him awake. Okay, that was a lie, Potter didn't really snore, but he kept tossing and turning and Draco was positive he heard something outside their tent and he simply couldn't sleep any longer. He slipped out of his cot quietly so as not to disturb the already disturbed Boy Who Lived and yawned as he stretched. He made his way over to the small fire they had built the previous night and poked the embers. Glancing back at the tent, Draco huffed. He couldn't understand how Potter could feel so attached to that mutt. It was huge and demonic and sure, it had saved his life and caught them food, but…

Draco walked around the makeshift camp. His side was feeling much better, although it still pained him now and again. Stupid Potter. Only he could forget that he had a wand and had to use muggle methods to revive him. He bit his lip. Potter had saved his life, and so had the dog, in a way. But after being nearly drowned by cannibals, he figured he didn't owe that half-breed anything. It was decided then.

He was going to commit suicide.

Indirectly, anyway. But he had an idea. Maybe they couldn't apparate off the island, but certainly they could apparate around the island? And he'd already been to the village, he knew exactly where he was going. And where he really didn't want to go. He glanced over again at the tent and sneered, before stalking off into the bushes. Draco wasn't exactly a pro at apparating and the pop made by his disappearance would surely wake Potter. He hoped he could be there and back again before Potter even noticed he was gone. That way he could claim the half-breed followed them or some such and Potter would stop whining about it.

So he didn't really whine, but Draco didn't like him being all distraught like nonetheless.

Once he was a fair distance into the trees, Draco closed his eyes and concentrated on his destination. He hoped that this worked. He'd hate to have to walk all the way back. In fact, if this didn't work, he decided he wouldn't bother at all. That was far too much work for Potter. He breathed in deeply and was gone. Dark swirled around him as was normal before he popped back into existence. A smirk came to his face when he saw that he was just outside the cannibal's village.

He refused to refer to them as anything more than cannibals. Monsters, is what they were. He cast a silencing charm on himself so as not to make any sound as he crept through the village looking for Anubis and prayed it stuck. The island seemed to have it's own magical laws and he wasn't sure how long certain spells would last. This was going to be difficult.

Draco snuck into the village, placing himself behind a hut. It seemed the village was still asleep, as it was barely light out. This was good. Creeping around the hut, he glanced around the village, but couldn't see Anubis anywhere. That was until a flame licked out from behind a hut, followed by a trail of smoke. Then another, and another, and it seemed very unusual for just a normal fire. Especially since the fire tended to go horizontally instead of vertically. Draco wasn't very careful when it came to walking. He made practically no noise, so he could go as he pleased without waking the general populace.

The same could not be said for Anubis.

As soon as the dog came into view, it spotted Draco and began reacting wildly. Draco noticed it was chained in the center of the village to a pole. Draco was surprised the chains even held the beast as he snarled and pulled at them. Then the demon began to bark happily and loudly and Draco groaned.

"Shush! Be quiet, you stupid mongrel. I've come to spring you," he whispered, as though the dog could understand him, which he was very sure it couldn't, because it kept on loping about and barking loudly. Suddenly he heard voices somewhere in the distance and he stiffened. Perhaps it would be best to hide. Or apparate without the dragon and forget the entire thing. Draco really didn't want to die. Most of all, he didn't want to be eaten.

Draco moved to hide behind the nearest object, which happened to be a hut, but the dog began to whine loudly, whimpering with each step Draco took.

"Oh, bullocks." Draco rushed back towards the great beast, knowing full well he was in a heap of trouble. He pulled at the chains but they wouldn't budge. He cast severing charms, heating charms, cutting charms, smashing charms – everything he could think of, but nothing would work on the chains. It was then that there was a shout and it sounded as though it were only a few feet away from him.

Draco wasn't going to be able to remove the chain, but he might be able to do something about what Anubis was chained to. The large wooden pole seemed old and well worn, as though it had had many dragons tied to hit before Anubis. Draco closed one eye and cast a cutting charm on the log. It worked. Well, it worked better than it had on the chains, anyway. He cast it several more times, before beginning to push hard on the log.

That was when all hell broke loose.

The villagers began to attack. Anubis did a fairly decent job of taking most of the blows and with his tough dragon hide he was unaffected. But then there were arrows and they hit the log just above Draco's hands and he yelped, surprised and jumped away, hiding behind the dragon, as it was his only cover.

"You're going to have to help me here," Draco said loudly, again as though Anubis could understand him as he indicated towards the pole. He began to push on it again and it began to budge, as Anubis leapt against it and pulled his chain. Of course, this didn't stop the ongoing fire and an arrow went straight through Draco's hand.

He howled, perhaps, louder than the dragon dog himself.

"Merlin's balls, shit, shit, shit, fuck," He swore loudly, staring at his hand, which was pinned to the pole and he danced about in pain. His eyes began to water and he grabbed the shaft of the arrow, closing his eyes tightly and pulling hard. It came out with a sickly squishy sound and Draco felt like vomiting at the blood and the pain. This was not on.

The pole finally cracked and broke off, and Draco pulled the chain off, now beginning to wonder how they were going to get away and out of all this. There was certainly no way he could apparate the both of them while trying to ignore the pain in his sodding hand. Another arrow came whizzing past his head, nearly taking off his ear, and another hit his right shoulder.

"Ow! Mother of – Would you people stop that?" Draco shouted, before he felt himself being lifted off the ground. It took him a moment to realize that the stupid dog was saving his hide again. He supposed it wasn't a bad thing. He looked upwards and saw that Anubis had grabbed Draco's robes in his front talons, and Draco had to be very careful not to be hit with drool. He was amazed at the wingspan on the beast. He'd only ever seen Anubis lope around with his wings tucked against his back, never fully expanded and he was surprised at the size of them. They had seemed relatively small before, and now they were bloody huge.

But this was definitely a win for them and another loss for the cannibals. Reaching his left arm around, Draco grabbed hold of the chain and pulled himself up onto the dragon half-breed's back. They had soared out of view of the village in no time at all, and Draco was allowed a moment of relaxation – although it was very difficult. Riding a dragon and riding a broom are certainly two different things. Draco had control over the broomstick at all times. Riding a dragon was bumpy and he had no idea what Anubis was going to do next.

After a while, though, he slumped forward and rested his eyes, eventually falling into a light sleep, despite the throbbing pain in his shoulder (where the arrow still protruded) and his very bloody hand, which he'd wrapped in his robes to keep himself from bleeding to death. Why couldn't it be Potter for once that got hit with arrows or strangled by Devil's Snare? Why were these rotten things always happening to him?

He could just hear Potter's response to that.

'Karma.'

"Sod off, Potter," he grumbled, opening his eyes. He realized they were descending very quickly and that he should better hold on before he flew off the back of Anubis. Draco decided that for a dog thing, Anubis was fairly intelligent, as they were descending upon the spot that they had set up camp. There was a fire going. Great. Potter was awake.

He was really going to get it, now. Why did he ever bother doing anything good?

Anubis also needed work on his landings, Draco decided. He all but crashed into the ground, skidding to a stop. When he finally did come to a complete halt, Draco ended up tumbling off over the dragon's head. Had Draco been aware of muggle television, he might have described this moment as very cartoony and not at all funny.

"Draco!" Potter's voice was muffled and Draco was sure this was because his ears were now filled with dirt. Then, after gathering his senses, he realized it was because Potter had all but threw himself on Draco. It was very painful, since he was pressing on the arrow in Draco's shoulder, causing Draco's eyes to water again. And just when the pain had begun to dull. "What the hell were you thinking? And what the hell did you do to yourself?"

"What are you, my mother?" Draco snapped irritably. "You were mopey. You're really annoying when you're mopey, so I went back and got your stupid mutt. And this is the thanks I get. Two battle wounds and a lecture."

Potter stared at Draco, then looked over at Anubis, who was wagging his tail happily, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, buckets of drool dripping onto the ground. He padded over and gave Potter a great lick, and Draco was disgusted and felt compelled to give a loud 'Ew'. Then a grin broke out on Potter's face, and Draco was slightly less sour. But only slightly.

"Thank you," Potter said, still grinning. "That was incredibly… sweet of you."

"Never do that again."

"What?"

"Describe me as sweet," Draco stuck out his tongue and shuddered. Him? Sweet? No, he was doing what he had to do to shut Potter up about his stupid mutt pal. "And if you want to thank me, get this stupid thing out of my shoulder."

"Oh. Oh!" Potter looked at the arrow and seemed a bit puzzled.

"What? Get it out. I can't do it," he said, holding up his hand, which had gone very numb and he could no longer move his fingers, which, strangely, he wasn't worried about. He found himself worrying more over whether Potter was grateful or not, and then he found himself being angry for worrying whether Potter was grateful or not. It was Potter for Merlin's sake. He meant nothing to Draco. He didn't even care for his opinion.

"That is really disgusting," Potter said, pointedly looking at Draco's hand.

"Yes, I realize, and it's even worse when it's your hand, but it doesn't hurt as much as that does," Draco snapped irritably, poking the end of the arrow with a stiff finger and wincing.

"I'm just not sure about the best way to go about this. You know, I'm used to spells and stuff. Degenerative and, and stupefy – not…"

"Just yank it out!" Draco said exasperatedly. He could handle the pain. Really, he could.

"Are you sure? Won't that hurt?"

"It already hurts, you moron," Draco growled, getting very frustrated. Was Potter really that incompetent? "Just do it. Get it over with. It'll hurt me more than you; you should enjoy this or something. We're enemies, sworn to cause a lot of pain to each other, so just do it before it gets infected and we have to cut off my arm. Because then I'd be really pissed off."

"Fine, if only it'll get you to shut up," Potter said, and Draco braced himself and the other boy wrapped his hands around the arrow. It happened very quickly, but hurt for quite a long time afterward.

"Ow, ow, ow. Why does it hurt more coming out then it does going in?" Draco whimpered as Potter tore a piece of cloth off his robes and pressed it again the bleeding hole. There was a moment where Draco sat stiffly, his eyes shut in pain, Potter holding the cloth against Draco's shoulder awkwardly. Potter was the first to break the silence.

"I didn't enjoy that, you know," he said softly, and Draco opened his eyes.

"What?"

"I don't like it when you're in pain. I thought you would've figured that out when I offered to transfigure you a crutch before," Potter said, sitting down from his current kneeling position. "I mean, I don't like seeing anyone in pain. You have to take off your shirt. I need to clean it, otherwise it's going to get infected and personally, I don't want to have to deal with a one-armed, hacked off Draco Malfoy."

"Fine," Draco sighed exasperatedly, pushing his robes off. He fumbled around inside his shirt, before his cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. "I can't do it."

"What? Why? It's just me, Malfoy, there's nothing to be embar-"

"It's not that, you git, I physically can't. I'm an invalid because of you. My hand is literally shot to hell and my arm doesn't want to move without screaming in agony, so I physically cannot do it."

"Oh," Potter blushed furiously. "Well, um… Do you mind if – if I…?"

"Yes, I do mind," Draco added irritably. Needing Potter to take off his own shirt was certainly under the category of things Draco minded. "But I don't think I have a choice."

"Right. Right," Potter said, before reaching forward and fumbling with Draco's shirt possibly as much as Draco had the first time, before finally managing to pull it up over Draco's head, exposing the wound for all it's gory goodness. Both boys cringed, and Draco even went and turned his head away from his own arm. "I don't think I can heal this. I mean, it's not my field of expertise. I could try but…"

"No, no trying. If you can't do it, then don't. I don't want to lose or gain extra limbs," Draco said sternly. He was very sure Potter would botch up the simplest of spells, and healing wasn't the easiest job in the world. He grimaced as Potter began to clean the wound, conjuring bandages and clean water. Conjured water was not the same as real water. It did nothing to quench thirst, but it did do a decent job of cleaning when one was in need.

"So," Potter began awkwardly. Draco watched with strange fascination as Potter worked diligently to get his shoulder clean and bandaged. It felt very strange. "Why did you go back and get Anubis, anyway?"

"I told you," Draco said, stiffening at the question. He wasn't entirely sure of the answer to that question himself anymore. He blamed blood loss. "You were moping about and being annoying. It didn't seem like such a hard thing to do. But then the monster went and started barking and they brought arrows and – ow – well, this happened."

"I would have gotten over it."

"Over what? "

"Over leaving Anubis behind. You know that, too. I don't think you went back because I was being annoying," Potter looked him in the eye, and Draco held the gaze as long as he could.

"Aha, so you admit to being annoying."

"Only if you admit you did it to be nice."

Draco gasped. "I did not!"

Potter grinned, and Draco felt compelled to punch him. Lucky for Potter he couldn't move his fingers or his right arm. Bastard.

"Done. Now let me see your hand."

Draco raised his hand with a scowl and winced as Potter clean his hand and wrapped it up. This was relatively quicker than his shoulder, possibly because Potter simply dunked his hand in the basin of water. Once finished, Draco noted that Potter held his hand longer than he needed to.

"Thank you," Draco said, surprising even himself. He rarely – if ever – said thank you. And Potter surely didn't deserve it. In fact, Draco didn't owe the other boy anything, particularly a thank you. Embarrassed that he'd said anything, Draco began to stand up, but Potter grabbed his left arm and pulled him back down. Already on unsteady feet, Draco toppled over straight onto the other boy, but it seemed this was Potter's intention, because shortly after doing so and finding himself nose to nose with the Gryffindor, Potter had his lips against Draco's.

Potter was kissing him. Potter was kissing him.

Draco's eyes widened and he had no idea how to react. He probably should've pushed Potter away and ran somewhere. Anywhere. But it wasn't an option. Both of Draco's arms were out of commission. He attempted to push himself away by using his knees, but that didn't work. In fact, he ended up in a more compromising position, and Draco was beginning to think that this wasn't entirely bad. There were lips and they were warm and this was certainly the least painful thing he had endured this entire trip.

But then Potter had the gall to shove him off (painfully, he might add) and Draco ended up rolling on his back.

"Oh god," Potter said before fleeing towards the tent.

Draco simply stared, completely bewildered and befuddled. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or pissed off.

"What the fuck?"