Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my wonderful reviews, thanks guys!

Harry stared at the small figure in front of him with horror. They had bewitched small statues to represent how safe each of the founders of the Colony were and Hermione's was now flickering with a dim glow of dark magic.

Harry raised his wand to his forehead and desperately tried to contact his friend, but was only met with silence. He clenched his fist in apprehensive frustration, and he felt a hand gently touch his shoulder in understanding. He looked back at Ginny, who had tears shining in her eyes.

"Will she be back?" He voice was quiet, and Harry knew she needed to hear that Hermione would return safety, even if they both knew it wasn't necessarily true. But instead of reassuring her, Harry only looked away from her and walked off roughly, leaving her alone to look at the ominous glow.

Once he reached his destination, Harry looked down on the cot that held his best friend. Ron's condition hadn't changed in nearly a year, and he was barely lucid enough to smile at Harry's arrival.

"Hermione?" The fragmented question was always the first on Ron's lips, and Harry couldn't bring himself to tell him of the menacing possibilities of their friend's fate. Instead, Harry only nodded and told him that Hermione said hello, and that she was still collecting supplies.

A small smile played on the red-head's lips, and his blue eyes closed as he drifted into the dreamless slumber he spent most of his time in. Harry's composed face collapsed into a deep frown as he looked at Ron's nearly translucent skin. He had been like this for so long, ever since the attack.

Harry reached down and gingerly lifted the white blanket that was covering Ron's skinny frame. He frowned as he looked at the scar that ran from the top left of Ron's pants all the way to the bottom right of his ribcage. They had healed the gash with magic, but the poison inside of Ron's body couldn't be touched. They had yet to find a surviving Healer capable enough to remove the evil venom. Hermione had been trying to find the solution in books she found on her trips out, but hadn't found anything yet. And now she may never. He shook his head, trying to banish those thoughts.

All of a sudden, a piercing scream rang out through the damp air. Harry sprinted outside of the crudely set-up medical tent, and saw many others running towards the sound. They made a path for Harry, who quickly overtook them.

As he ran toward the main camp, where tents were packed together in a desperate attempt to look like a civilized, he saw a circle of people hiding something within them. Harry reached the edge of this circle, and they quickly ushered him to the center. The first thing he saw was Ginny's face, white with shock and fear. Her hand was around her pregnant stomach protectively.

He looked to where she was staring, and his stomach turned over. Lying on a small cot was a young woman with black hair and sobbing eyes, clutching a shriveled baby. A man was stooped down next to her, obviously the father of the child. He had bloodied hands from delivering, his face was hard, and he was gazing at his baby with grief.

Not one child had been born successfully since the war. The same magic that had turned the Muggles into monsters still lingered in the air, and it did horrible things to the babies who weren't able to handle the surge of magic. This one was no different, although people had been hopeful that the magic that polluted the air had finally been diminishing.

Harry stepped forward, kneeling next to the couple, who looked at him with destroyed expressions. He turned his eyes to the baby, and the mother started sobbing again as she tilted the baby that had embodied all of her love and hope to Harry.

The eyes of the child were completely white, and its skin was dry and looked as if it felt like paper. Its tiny face was twisted into an expression of complete, excruciating pain. As the air had hit it, it had burned from the inside. Its scream was the one Harry had heard resonating through the Colony.

Harry looked away, briefly closing his eyes before looking at Ginny. Tears were shining in her eyes as she looked at the small family that could easily be her own future.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

His fingers ran over the rough bark. He had been staring into the shadows for hours. He knew they would meet again today, and that the darkness would welcome him once again.

The fire behind him warmed his back, but his front was as icy as he felt inside. He turned around, and looked at the girl sleeping by the fire. The flames made their fiery reflections on her face and danced through her hair. She looked completely vulnerable.

Draco felt the dragon within him rise, and he stepped towards the girl. He could imagine her mouth opening in a scream as his fingers grasped and tore at the tender flesh of her throat. The smell of hot blood would be intoxicating as it ran over his fingers freely. The light would slowly leave her eyes as they glared at him accusingly. He was his father, a pitiless killer. But he knew it wasn't true. He wouldn't be able to go through with it. As soon as she was awake, as soon as he realized she was human, no amount of hate could make him kill her. Images of the encounter with Dumbledore flashed through his mind.

He turned away, sickness threatening him tauntingly. He was weak. He deserved to be here, to be banished from anyone who could have possibly supported him.

He heard her turn over in her sleep and wanted to put out the fire, to let the Creatures get her while he stood nearby; watching them do what he could not. But the threat of darkness extended to him too, and the eyes that glared out from the dark didn't care whether it was pure or tainted blood they drank so greedily.

Draco pulled up his cloak, and looked at the blood he had never bothered to wash away. It was a reminder of what would come if they left his clearing. The wound had healed as much as possible, but the thinning red line still stood out sharply from his white skin.

He could smell the sweat that poured down his face as he ran. It was the stench of fear. He had ventured into the shadows only for a couple of minutes before he felt them against his legs. When they hadn't attacked, he relaxed slightly, but the feeling of bones and blood against his skin made him want to scream. He illuminated his wand, and they quickly disappeared, unwilling to be bathed in the light.

Ten minutes later, he could feel the strength seep from his body as the magic was consumed hungrily by the trees around him. The light grew dimmer, and he could still not find a place to build a fire.

Suddenly, he felt completely peaceful, and allowed the light to go out completely. He felt the Creatures return, but he didn't care. They were his brothers. They all belonged in the dark, belonged to the sinister magic that kept them alive.

He felt them bite into his leg, and the spell was broken. He felt pain sear through every part of his body, and he screamed as it seemed like his veins were burning from the inside. And then he ran. He didn't know how he managed to find his way back to the dimly lit clearing, but had collapsed as soon as he got there, not allowing his horrified thoughts to eat through him.

A/N: Thanks again to those who reviewed; it means so, so much to me. Again, if you have any questions about me or the story or any theories about Harry Potter in general, just leave me a review and I'll try to answer!

BootstrapBoula: Well, I think your question about Hermione's reaction to Ron's name was a little bit more explained in this chapter, but you'll find out exactly what happened to him a little later! Thanks for the reviews!