Disclaimer: I don't own the HP books or characters. The title was a challenge given to me by Luinthoron (who was also so sweet and beta-read it). There are some characters mentioned, that aren't in the HP books, though. Most of them are seventh years and there are two first years. They are (more or less) mine. The first years were (if you could say so) inspired by two friends of mine I was really upset with. I altered the namess, but if they should ever read this, I'm sure, they'd know it's them. Well, revange IS sweet.

A/N: This takes place in Harry's fifth year. It's a bit darker (The Voice in my head: "A bit? Girl, what are you talking about? you..." Me: "Shut up! You're going to ruin everything!" The Voice: "OK, OK, I'm already still. But it IS a lot darker thane everything you've written so far!"), OK, I admit it, it's a LOT darker than everything I've ever written. I was in a really bad mood when I wrote this, and, well, if I'm depressed, that's what is most likely to come out.
I'd also like to thank Luinthoron. If he hadn't given me the title, this fic wouldn't exist. It's the only fic I have written with having the title before even a storyline. Thanks, Luin!

--Altair





No Way

by Altair



He was running through the halls of the castle, heading for the Hospital Wing. There had been an attack in the morning. Lord Voldemort's army was still out there. They had been able to keep the castle, but there had been so many dead. No house had remained without some loss. In Hufflepuff, it had been a first year called Payl Parker, a boy who had just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and three seventh years by the names of Chloe Johnson, Nadine Star and Darien Fudge, son of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Ravenclaw had lost their Seeker star Cho Chang, among with her classmates Charlie Longfield, Norman Raven and William Spencer. Gryffindor had it's victims, too. Lee Jordan, the oh-so-loved Quiddich Announcer, went first, his girlfriend and Quiddich star Katie Bell was among the fallen, too. And, of course, the death that had shocked the whole school, Fred Weasley, who died a heroic death, saving his twin brother George's life. Even Slytherin had lost students. David Shadow, a first year on a night stroll, had been caught in the crossfire of curses. Draco Malfoy had been accidentally hit with the Killing Curse by his own father, Draco's goons Crabbe and Goyle were luckier, having 'just' been wounded, even though they still could die from the injuries. There were many people wounded. All the beds in the Hospital Wing were filled with people dying. They had conjured up beds in empty classrooms, they too were filled with the wounded.

His friends were wounded, too. They were both up in the Hospital Wing now, and he dreaded for their lives. They had been found unconcious near two dead Death Eaters, a dead Draco Malfoy and the wounded Crabbe and Goyle. At first, they had thought, both were dead. He could still feel the emptiness in his soul when he had thought that he had lost them forever. The first true friends he ever had. That he would never see them again, never be able to talk to them again, would never hear them laugh with him again. Would never hear HER laugh again! He had felt so lost and alone... Then they had discovered that both of them had their pulse. He had felt like he had been reborn the same minute. But their injuries had been very serious. Madam Pomfrey had been doing all she could for both of them, but there were too many wounded and too few people to help them.

He turned around another corner, heading direct to the Hospital Wing, the voices of the dying still haunting in his head, praying for his friends' lives. Both had only little chances for surviving even the night, but he refused to believe that he could lose them even now. He had to convince himself that they were still alive. That SHE was still alive, breathing, waiting for him to come to her. Because today, the attack, the fact that he could have lost her, all of this had opened his eyes, and now he knew that he loved her. And he couldn't lose her again. There was no way he would let her die. Just no way!

He reached the Hospital Wing. It seemed that they had been waiting for him for as he reaced out to open the door, someone opened it from the other side and he found himself facing Professor Dumbledore.

"Harry," the Headmaster said, more as a statement than a question. He looked concerned in the boy's emerald eyes.

"Professor," the boy answered, entering the room and looking around. He soon found what he had been looking for. A bed, surrounded by people with flaming red hair. And suddenly he felt guilty for being unharmed while his best friend was lying there, hardly even breathing, trying to cling on his life with all he was worth for and it still might have not been enough...

"Mrs Weasley?" he asked, making his way over to his friend's bed. All the Weasleys were gatheredto the youngest Weasley boy's bed side. Mr and Mrs Weasley, Charlie, Bill, George and Ginny - they all were there. And they seemed all to be in shock. Fred's death had left it's marks on all of them, but it had it's worst results on George who looked completley crushed.

Ron hadn't regained conciousness yet. Harry looked down at his friend's pale face, then up, at the faces of Ron's family, and he couldn't take it any longer. He turned his eyes away from his friend's family and they fell on the bed next to Ron's. And on the girl's face who was sleeping in it. A lovely face, surrounded by bushy chestnut hair. Her face was pale as Ron's, she, too, seemed to have trouble breathing.

Harry looked at the Weasley children, at their parents, his eyes reflecting only one question - how are they? But no-one seemed to be eager to answer him. Whenever he met their eyes, they looked away. At least their eyes didn't have that accusing look that all the other's had. Just pity. But all the same, they didn't stand it to look him in the eyes.

Suddenly Ron choked. Harry looked over at him. Ron's face looked now blue, as if he was suffocating, as if he wouldn't get any air.

"Ron!" Harry screamed.

All the Weasleys turned their attention to Ron at once. Ginny, after seeing Ron's face, broke down completley. She fainted. George was the one who caught her, just before she would have hit the floor. It seemed to take forever for Madam Pomfrey to arrive. She took one look at Ron and drew the curtains to separate them from the rest of the room. Harry felt a cold jolt somewhere near his heart. This couldn't be good.

"I'm so sorry," was all Madam Pomfrey could say. She didn't need to explain any further. Everyone had understood her perfectly.

"NO!" Harry screamed along with the Weasley boys. Mrs Weasley fainted and hit her head on the ground before anyone could react. Harry found himself being shoved away through the curtains to leave the mourning family alone. 16 years old Ronald Weasley was dead. And there was nothing he could do about it.

He sat down on Hermione's bed side, looking at her, stroking her hair. He had just lost his best friend ever and was now sitting by the girl he loved, the girl who was dying. He couldn't let her die. He couldn't lose her too. But there was nothing he could have done for her. So he just sat there, looking at her, talking to her, hoping that he wouldn't lose her too. There was no way he would have lost her and lived on.

"Hermie, you can't die," he whispered to her, stroking her hair, "you can't die and leave me here all alone. I need you, Hermie. There's no way I could lose you too. I already lost Ron. He's dead, Hermie. He just went and left us alone. How could he do this to us? How could he do this to me? He was my best friend and he didn't even say good-bye to me..." Harry burst out in tears. "Oh, Hermie, please, open your eyes. Please! You're all I have left, I cannot lose you, too! I won't let you leave me! There's no way I let you do this..."

Harry couldn't remember how long he had been sitting there, crying. One moment, as he looked at her face again, he saw that her eyes were open and she tried to say something to him. This, Harry couldn't take no more. He bent down over her, covering her mouth with his, kissing her with all he had, the rustration of losing a friend, the joy of her opening her eyes and coming back to him, he put all his emotions in this kiss. And as he took back from the kiss, he could hear the words she had tried to say and his stomach dropped.

"Good-bye, Harry Potter. I loved you..."

And then she was gone. She, too, had left him. And now, he had no-one. His parents were dead, for Lord Voldemort had taken them from him. His only true frends in the whole world were dead because the Death Eaters had killed them. And there he was, sitting there, living, when all the people who had ever cared for him, were dead.

But suddenly it didn't matter to him. Nothing mattered anymore. He had been fighting for his friends to have a safe place to live, but the friends were gone now. And there was only emptiness left. There was no way he could have went on with this any longer.

He rushed out of the Hospital Wing and up the starecase to the veru top of the Astronomy Tower. Nothing mattered anymore. Not Dumbledore, not Voldemort, even the whole wizarding world was nothing to him, without his friends. What should he fight for with them gone? Let the others do the fighting for a change. Let them defeat Voldemort. For this wasn't his battle anymore. It wasn't his war. All had stopped to exist when she had died. There was nothing for him to do in this world. So he jumped. He felt he was free. And then he was dead.





A/N: When I read this over the next morning, I cried. I don't think that I'll ever be able to read this over again. I was shocked that I ever wrote this. All the deaths... I don't know. But, please, let me know what you felt when reading this. And what you think of it in general. For it's something I have never done before and I need to know.