Yes. I suck. I'm sorry. I don't deserve such faithful and wonderful reviewers! This is just a short chapter to let you know that I'm not giving up on this fanfic! I think that the real action will probably be where the action begins. No matter how long it takes me…I will finish it. I promise.

Thank you to everyone who sent me their messages, reviews, and ideas. It means more to me than I could ever express.

Thank you.

"Speaking"

"Sounds"

"Thinking"

Darren Shan POV

It was easy to tell that something was wrong. My friends were visiting me more often, but their eyes were red and puffy, or else bloodshot and tired with heavy bags under them. When Ginny stayed after one of Hagrid's classes one day to speak with me, I asked her about the change. Her eyes had widened as she covered her mouth with one hand. I noticed tears collecting at the corners of her big eyes.

"I-I'm sorry, Darren!" she sobbed, voice muffled by her hand. She moved forward, her free hand wrapping around the bar of my cage. She didn't seem to notice the smell of burning flesh or the smoke that rose from her fingers. "I can't…."

"Ginny! Let go!" I had cried, panicking slightly. "Ginny, stop! HAGRID!"

The giant of a man had run from his hut, eyes wide and worried. When he saw what the problem was, he had let out a quiet cry and ran to grab hold of the small redhead, pulling her away and up into his arms. She was crying, wails escaping from her mouth as she thrashed against him. "We can't let them! Hagrid, we have to-" but Hagrid was already racing towards the castle and away from me.

I couldn't hear Ginny's cries anymore, but I knew. There was a sinking in my stomach. It made sense now. The fake, shaky laughter and falsely cheerful voices. The side glances and pitying stares. The eyes and mouths and tears and shaking hands. It all finally made sense to me. I was going to die.

It wasn't going to be that simple, though. I wasn't just going to die; someone was going to kill me.

My legs suddenly felt very weak and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground. My head was spinning with the sudden realization and my stomach hurt. I clutched at my middle, afraid I was going to be sick. It was strange. I had "died" before. I knew that I was going to die sooner or later. Mr. Crepsley had threatened it himself every now and then, but this was entirely different. Nobody had told me out right; it hadn't been threatened or even implied. I simply knew, and somehow that just made it worse.

Time crawled by, and the sun passed slowly overhead. I began to feel numb, and a part of me knew that I was going into shock. The rest of me just didn't care.

By the time the sun had disappeared and the moon began to make itself known, I had calmed down completely. I knew what was coming, even if I didn't know exactly how or when it would happen, and I would be ready to face it. A small part of me still held onto the slim hope that Mr. Crepsley would find me in time, but with a vampire like him…. Well, you can never really tell, can you?

When Hagrid came by later that night with a freshly dead rabbit, I asked him "Do you know when it will be?" He gave me a confused look, and I continued before he could open his mouth to ask. "When I'm going to die."

Immediately, his eyes widened and a tear trickled down his face, disappearing into his overgrown beard. Slowly…terribly slowly, he nodded. The giant man opened his mouth as though to answer, but his chin was quivering so badly that he seemed unable to form a coherent word. I waited, feeling impatient and a little annoyed. I wanted to yell at him but he looked so miserable that I couldn't bring myself to do so. Finally, he managed to choke out a reply that made my blood run cold once again. "T-t-tomorrow. The Ministry is comin' tomorrow."

Harry Potter POV

The morning dawned, sunny and beautiful despite the slight chill. All around the castle, young witches and wizards were opening their eyes after a night of dreaming. Happy for the weekend, they headed for the Great Hall, eager for a hearty and delicious breakfast. Smiles were everywhere.

Well, almost everywhere. The faces of the staff were tired and pulled into various expressions of grief. The students noticed. Despite the previously happy atmosphere, the mood soon began to become somber and worrisome. The loud voices quieted and conversations became shorter and shorter until they faded into nothing more than one word replies. When Dumbledore stood from his spot, golden platter untouched, he didn't bother calling for silence.

"Today, I must ask for the students not to leave the castle after noon." He announced. His voice was scratchy, and he looked as though he hadn't slept at all. "The Ministry of Magic will be on the grounds today. They have come to collect Mr. Darren from his cage, and to dispose of him quickly and efficiently. They do not want any student involvement or interruptions."

There was a moment of silence before a quiet voice spoke up. "What does that mean, Professor Dumbledore?"

Every head swiveled in unison to find the person who had talked. In the midst of many sitting children, one girl in a silver and green scarf stood. She was staring up towards the headmaster, eyes wide as she swatted at the hands that tried to pull her back down. Dumbledore gave her a sad smile.

"It is exactly what it sounds like, Ms. Reinbeck." The headmaster answered quietly.

"You mean they…they're going to…." The young Slytherin trailed off, a shocked gasp making its way from her throat. "But, they can't!"

"I'm afraid they can." Dumbledore said, holding up a hand for silence as chatter began to break across the great hall. "Now, if anyone wishes to say their final goodbyes to our resident vampire, you may."

Five Gryffindors and one Ravenclaw were out the door and running towards the grounds before the sentence was out of his mouth. He paused to let the whispers die down again before continuing.

"Please be back inside the castle before 10 o'clock, and make sure to travel with friends." And with that, the students were dismissed.

There was a moment of shocked silence before the first year from Slytherin rose and strode from the Great Hall. She was followed by two young men from Hufflepuff and then a few from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Students from each house trickled from the room and onto the grounds. In that day of grief, Albus Dumbledore couldn't have been more proud.