I'm back! Two chapters in one month! Hopefully, this means I'm somewhat out of my slump. I hope this chapter pleases you, my wonderful and dearest readers.

A special shout-out to Pichicha123, who sent me a message specifically to request this be done before a very special day… it's a day early, but happy birthday all the same! I hope you enjoy this present. Treat it gently~ ;)

My own birthday is the 27th. I will officially be 17! Reviews would be a nice present, hint hint, nudge nudge. Haha!

Also! One last thing before getting to the actual story. If you have a tumblr and wish to follow me (whether to get updates on stories, guilt me into writing, send me anonymous hate mail, stalk creepily, or whatever else you enjoy doing) my thingy is www. daboyau. tumblr. Com. No spaces, of course.

Long authors note is long, and now over. Please, enjoy this chapter. (and don't hate me too much)

"Talking"

"Thinking"

"Noises"

Darren Shan POV

I had been expecting a quiet morning. A lonely last day and, if I was lucky, a few people coming to say their final goodbyes.

The first people were expected. Neville was the first to reach me. His knees were covered in grass stains and his face was red, sweat glistening on his forehead. He was trying to speak, but couldn't get his words out between each heavy breath. I waited in silence. Soon enough, the others arrived.

Ron wrapped an arm around Hermione and allowed her to rest her head on his shoulder as silent tears streamed down her face. Ginny stayed close to Harry's side, her eyes red and swollen but her chin set in a valiant façade of bravery. Neville and Luna had made a spot on the grass together, almost touching but not quite. I watched them with something like a smirk and allowed myself an eye-roll. "At least they won't be lonely when I'm gone." I muttered dryly. No one really knew what to say, so we opted for silence, broken only by the occasional sniffle.

Minutes passed, and then a flash of silver and green caught my eye. I recognized the girl striding purposefully toward us from a while back, but couldn't remember her name (not that is would matter much at this point). As she drew closer, Ron and Harry were immediately defensive. They faced the girl, and I grinned when she stood her ground. There was no chance for a silly confrontation, though, because at that point two more students arrived. Then three more, and then another one. And they kept coming!

Soon, there were students milling about, standing both alone and in groups. Everything was quiet besides a slight buzzing that signified the whispered conversations taking place amongst the gathered students and staff members.

Few actually approached me. The ones who did almost always had the same routine. They would pause, mouths moving slowly and soundlessly as they searched for whatever words had been on their minds mere seconds prior. Then, they would stutter out a rushed apology, or some silly story about a dead relative or sometimes a pet. There were a few who assured me I'd go to a better place, and then gave false, hollow laughs at my lame and half-assed attempt at a joke ("Yeah, no kidding. I'd bet that most places are better than a cage! Ha. Ha.") before they retreated back to their friends. Some promised they'd get me out before the "Ministry" arrived. I noted that this group seemed to have an affinity for red-and-gold scarves.

All this while, Lupin and Hagrid stood by my cage like sentries. One wore a bone-tired expression, his shoulder hunched but head held high. The other seemed content to simply cry into an enormous spotted handkerchief.

I felt oddly numb to it all, like I was offering my condolences to someone after the loss of some distant family member that I had never known. Perhaps it was the familiarity of it all; this was my second funeral, after all. How backwards it all seemed.

I sat in the shadow cast by the top of my cage as the sun rose higher into the blue sky. It was ironic that the day of my true death would be marked by lovely weather and singing birds.

And then the Ministry arrived.

Everything was thrown into chaos. Students were yelling, refusing to leave. The Professors were half-heartedly commanding their students to vacate the immediate area. In the midst of all the confusion, I saw an enormous snake making its ways along the edges of the forest. A snake that I recognized.

"Evra!" I cried out, desperate, suddenly scared.

As a flash of light blinded me and simultaneously opened the door of my enchanted metal deathtrap, and as too rough binds tore me from within, I realized that I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready for this. I wasn't ready to die; I didn't want to lose the existence, the life, I had at the Cirque.

"Evra!" I screamed again."Mr. Crepsley!"

But the strange, magic binds covered my mouth, cutting off my screams. I saw the men who held me captive, their wands turned grandly towards me. I snarled into the stupid gag, struggling and thrashing and hissing. No one was coming to save me. If I had to die, I would do so proudly.

I would do so like a vampire.

Harry Potter P.O.V.

They were using a shield charm to keep the raging, swelling mass of bodies back. It was chaos, with children and adults screaming and crying and talking all at once. The officials from the Ministry were yelling right back. Half of them were focused on keeping the shield up and the occupants of Hogwarts at bay while the others….

Harry watched in silent horror as Darren was pulled from the cage. The binds that the Ministry had summoned were obviously tight. So tight…. The boy's hands were turning blue. His mouth was open, screaming something that couldn't be made out amongst the tirade of other noises.

"Stop it! Please, STOP!" Hermione screamed as she beat her fists against the invisible barrier.

Darren's eyes were wide with terror and he choked and writhed as the binds snaked their way around his throat and across his mouth.

"You can't do this." Ginny sobbed, hands tearing at her red hair in anguish and frustration. "You can't…."

And now the vampire was fighting his captors, eyes darker and fiercer than anyone had ever seen. It was a wonderful, terrible, valiant battle. One that Darren had no hope of winning.

Neville was watching, his eyes wide. His fists clenched at his side, and his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip until he tasted blood. He shuddered and spat, trying to rid himself of the taste. It stayed, and with each passing second he was realizing just how hopeless a person could feel. Funny; he has thought he'd already known.

Darren was pale. So dreadfully pale against the dark hair and eyes. He was small, too, seeming ever smaller against the Ministry officials, with their angry expressions and raised wands. One man stood to the side. He wore a dark hood and nondescript black robes. The taste of blood filled Neville's mouth as the executioner raised his pale wand.

It was then that Darren managed to hit the ground and roll, ramming into one of the officials. The shield began to crumble. The raging mass surged forward, fueled by shock and anger and adrenaline.

Too slow, though. Not enough. Far too late.

The spell was cast in confusion, as the students fell upon them.

Curses flew, lighting up the air with sparks. One of the Weasley twins set something off, and they were all engulfed in sudden impenetrable darkness. Spells lit up the cloud like lightning as it raged through the darkened and dangerous sky.

"IT'S OVER." A voice thundered above it all, amplified by magic. "The vampire is dead! STOP THIS."

And stop it did. Silence fell.

From the Forbidden Forest, an anguished wail was heard.