A/N: I know you all hate me XD I'm sorry!!!!!!! This is the last chapter of Faded! New story will begin as soon as I can find motivation to write the first chapter. Story title suggestions are needed!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Something snapped inside the vampire, and he let out a demonic sounding roar as a cloud of black magic appeared, barrelling towards Voldemort. It tore up the ground as it went, creating a huge crater in the ground.

Harry didn't bother waiting for the smoke to clear, tears streaming down his cheeks as he sent curse after curse into the darkness, a twisted sense of pleasure running through him as heartbeat after heartbeat was cut off and silenced.

Shoulders heaving with effort, the darkness finally dissipated. Bodies littered the ground, all of them wearing midnight black Death Eater robes.

A burning sensation immediately engulfed where his heart would have been. It felt like razor sharp claws were tearing his insides to shreds, black magic swirling around him. He shakily lifted a hand, seeing his pale grey skin was becoming blurry around the edges, his form becoming less defined. He could make no noise; couldn't scream in pain or cry out in anguish.

And then everything was consumed by darkness for a few moments. Harry couldn't draw in any air, couldn't see a thing, couldn't close his eyes or try to blink. It felt like he was being torn apart, piece by piece, before finally it stopped.

He fell to his hands and knees, head spinning. A familiar heartbeat filled his ears as black dots began appearing at the corners of his vision, and as he weakly turned his head he saw Draco's chest rise as the werewolf drew in a choking, coughing breath.

Finally, everything went black.

******

Harry opened his eyes weakly, instantly aware of the pounding in his head. All of his limbs felt heavy and useless, and he was more tired than he'd ever been.

It was dark in the room, but as he looked around weakly he found that he was in Draco's room at Grimmauld Place, lying on Draco's bed. Said werewolf was lying next to him.

His heartbeat was slow and quiet, indicating he was in a deep sleep, and probably wouldn't be waking up anytime soon. His breathing was laboured and ragged, a small frown of discomfort on his face. His white hair stuck to his forehead because of the sweat that had gathered there. The blood that had stained his hair had been mostly cleaned off, only a red tinge remaining. The wound on his head had been healed up as well.

Harry simply stared for a few seconds, wondering if he was somehow dead and this was the afterlife. He lifted his hand, pinching the grey skin of his arm. As far as he could tell, this was real.

At the realisation that Draco was still alive, his eyes began to sting and he let out a ragged sob of relief, exhaustion weighing heavily on his shoulders.

Draco let out a quiet whine in his sleep, fingers twitching slightly. He was having a nightmare.

Harry threaded his fingers through Draco's damp hair comfortingly. "Shh, you're okay," he murmured quietly. Draco's face relaxed again, and his heartbeat resumed the pace of someone in a deep sleep.

Finally the fatigue was too much to bear, so Harry tangled his and Draco's legs together, cuddling up against the werewolf and closing his eyes.

******

A crack rang out through Newt's house as he apparated in, Credence at his side.

From exhaustion, terror, and the frightening whirling sense of apparation he'd just experienced, Credence nearly crumpled to the floor, Newt catching him around the waist before he did.

Credence immediately burst into tears, wrapping his arms around Newt's neck and burying his face in the man's neck, sobbing with utter relief. Newt returned the embrace tightly, a wave of tears flooding from his own eyes.

For a moment they just stood, overwhelmed by happiness and relief.

Credence pulled away, locking eyes with Newt and giving him a tearful smile. Newt lifted a hand, stroking the side of Credence's face gently, if only to convince himself that he finally had him back, that he wasn't just delirious and hallucinating.

"I missed you so much," Newt whispered through his tears. "My god, don't ever leave me again, please."

"It wasn't like I had a choice," Credence murmured in reply. "I'll never leave you, for the rest of eternity, I swear."

Newt nodded happily, lifting his sleeve to wipe away his tears.

"Where are we?" Credence asked.

"I bought this house with the money I earned from teaching," Newt replied, lifting Credence's torn sleeve and casting a spell to make the cuffs break. Credence's arm felt weightless as Newt healed up the marks on his wrists, leaving white scars in their place.

"So this is your house then?" Credence asked, looking around. It was definitely how he'd expect Newt's house to look; random man-eating plants on the staircase banisters, weird looking objects scattered across every available surface. It was cozy though, radiating a homely feeling.

"You mean our house," Newt said with a smile. "It's our house."

Credence couldn't suppress the tears that ran down his cheeks, and he wiped them away hastily. He'd never had a place to truly call home before. And now he did, and he loved it. He had a home, a family, a man to love and call his own. He had all he'd ever wanted.

Once Newt had finished healing the wounds scattered across his chest, he set his wand down on the already cluttered coffee table. "You can go upstairs, there's a bathroom on the right. I think you deserve a nice bath, while I put dinner together."

Credence nodded. Newt smiled happily, pulling Credence in and letting their lips meet for what felt like the first time in eternity. Credence replied, kissing Newt back gently and savouring every moment of it. For now, things were perfect.

******

"Newt!"

The man was up the stairs within seconds, looking around the bathroom door. He couldn't help the way his heart lurched when he saw Credence holding a pair of scissors.

"Could you cut my hair?"

Newt couldn't hold back a sigh of relief. "Well, I'm not that good at it-"

"You cut your own hair, right?"

"Well yeah," Newt sighed, pulling at his fringe with a look of detest. "But I'm not good at it."

"Doesn't matter, really," Credence said with a shrug, handing the pair of scissors over to Newt who held them with uncertainty. He lifted the scissors and snipped away at one of the stray black locks of hair, holding it with a frown.

"I feel like I've committed a crime," he mumbled. Credence cracked a smile, but Newt quickly got over it and began cutting.

Credence watched as his black hair fell to the floor. He'd been terrified of haircuts as a child, or of anyone coming near him with any form of sharp object for that matter.

"You're actually pretty good at this. You should do hairdressing for a living," Credence joked, folding his arms over his bare chest as Newt surveyed the job he was doing with narrowed eyes.

Newt snorted. "Yes, I'll add that to my list of talents. Caring for magical creatures, apparating through time and past magical barriers, and," he paused for dramatic effect. "Hairdressing."

Credence smiled amusedly, watching as a Newt set down the scissors on the counter. His hair was shorter than before now, and slightly messy. He had to admit, he liked it a heck of a lot more than his old haircut or the long and messy hair he'd aquired over the year he'd been away.

Newt wrapped his arms around Credence's waist, pulling him against his chest. "You look beautiful, as always," the magizoologist murmured, pressing his lips to Credence's neck. The boy blushed and diverted his gaze to the ground, which Newt found adorable.

******

Harry staggered out of Draco's room the next morning, feeling like he wanted to turn to dust. His whole body seemed to ache, fatigue ripping at his every muscle and making his thoughts messy and muddled.

"Awake at last," Remus said, pulling Harry into his arms as they met in one of the corridors. Harry leaned his head on the werewolf's shoulder. Remus kept Harry in his arms for a few seconds, holding him tightly. "We were all terrified when we found you two."

"Is Draco going to be okay?"

"He should be fine. He's in a coma, probably from cracking his skull when he fell. We don't know when he'll wake up, though."

Harry frowned. No, Draco hadn't just been knocked out, had he? He'd died, his heart and breathing had stopped. He decided not to say anything against it.

"That was some pretty impressive magic on your part though, everyone was wondering how that huge hole in the ground appeared."

Harry nodded numbly, beginning to descend the staircase slowly.

The rest of the people in the house were all sitting at the dinner table, mostly talking. Hermione was the first to notice, staring at his grey skin and crimson eyes, a look of betrayal, hurt, and horror on her face. Ron quickly noticed too, staring at him with a mix of shock and repulsion.

Molly Weasley simply gave him a pitying look that made Harry want to rip his own fangs out, but Sirius gave him an encouraging smile.

Harry slumped down in a seat, staring blankly at the wooden table.

"Can we talk?" Hermione asked, her tone sharp. Harry glared, but followed her up the staircase, Ron trailing behind.

"Why didn't you tell us?" She asked, contempt in her words and hatred in her gaze.

"Because I knew you'd react badly," Harry snapped in reply.

"When did this happen even?"

"Start of fourth year. For the 'brightest witch of your age' I'm surprised you didn't figure it out," Harry snarled sarcastically.

"Oi, that's out of order mate, shut up," Ron said warningly.

"No, you shut up," Harry hissed in reply.

"And Malfoy?"

"Werewolf," Harry spat. "I was kidnapped, and he was bitten by accident."

"I just can't believe that you don't even trust us enough to tell us anything!" Hermione cried. "Malfoy's bullied you ever since first year, and you told him more!"

"Might've been the fact that we've had to share a dormitory for the past two years because Dumbledore was under the impression that I might kill someone!"

"I don't blame him," Ron muttered, looking warily at the insane look in Harry's scarlet eyes.

"Try me," Harry growled, baring his fangs. Ron visibly flinched away, stumbling.

"We don't even know who you are, anymore," Hermione murmured, disappointment and pity in her gaze.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "I don't expect you to. You don't know the first thing about me, or what I've been put through! You think it's difficult to handle finding out? I dare you to get turned into a bloodthirsty beast and we'll see how you cope!" Harry began to raise his voice.

"Stop yelling," Hermione snapped. "Just because you're moody-"

"Moody?" Harry asked hysterically. "Just leave me alone, for gods sakes," he said turning and beginning to walk down the hallway.

"No, we have to talk about this!"

"I said," Harry snarled. "Leave me alone!"

And with those words still echoing around the old house, Harry turned into a cloud of smoke. The window next to him shattered, and he flew out into the open air, glad that it was a cloudy day.

He didn't know where he was going, or what he was going to do. But he was going to do... something.