AN: So the idea for this kinda just dropped into my head at 2 AM as I was trying to fall asleep a few nights ago. Always a perfect time for that to happen, right? I hoped I'd be able to remember it when I woke up the next morning as the words and the idea floated around in my mind as I fell asleep.

Luckily for me I did. Of course it changed slightly from how I'd first envisioned it but it's still pretty close to what I had in my head at first.

This takes place at the beginning of Order of the Phoenix, after the dementor attack on Harry and Dudley. I warn you, this is NOT a happy story.

As always your comments and support are most welcome.

Cedric.

Vacant, glassy, unseeing eyes stared up from the boyishly handsome face of Harry Potter's first crush. Cedric Diggory was dead.

"Kill the spare."

The words, spoken in that awful, high, cold voice echoed in Harry's head. Tears blurred his vision. He'd never gotten the chance to tell him. He'd never gotten the chance to find out if Cedric even liked other boys that way. The way Harry was beginning to understand that he himself did.

Cedric was gone. A flash of horrible, sickly green light and his life's flame was extinguished without so much as a passing thought.

He collapsed to the ground next to the boy, desperately clutching his shoulders, shaking him, trying to wake him, even though he knew. He knew. Knew.

Cedric was dead.

The tears began to fall, splashing onto the handsome face staring vacantly up at him. "Cedric! Cedric! Please, gods! Cedric!" Harry buried his face in Cedric's yellow Hufflepuff t-shirt, sobs wracking his body.

Cedric was dead. He would never smile at Harry again. Never nervously try to talk to him again, making Harry wonder if his crush was obvious to the older boy and if he maybe felt the same. Never got the chance to know what it would feel like to kiss him. If he'd be allowed to kiss him.

He'd never know because Cedric was dead.

"Cedric! No! Please! Cedric!"

Harry Potter gasped, choking on the sobs stuck in his throat as he jolted awake. He blinked into the dimly lit bedroom, disoriented. His breaths were heavy, shuddering, sweat slick on his skin, his heart thudding hard against his ribs. And he realized he had tears streaming down his face.

Cedric. He'd been dreaming of the graveyard and Cedric. Again.

Sitting up, Harry drew his knees up against his chest and wrapping his arms around them tightly, trying to make himself as small as possible. Tears continued to fall onto his cheeks and he shivered despite the warm, humid air hanging thickly in the small room.

Cedric. He sobbed harder. Cedric. Cedric was gone. And it was all his, Harry's, fault. Cedric was dead because of him, because Harry had insisted they grab the cup together. If he hadn't they never would have both tumbled into that graveyard. And Cedric wouldn't be dead.

Dudley's taunts from earlier that day, before the Dementor's had come, echoed in Harry's head.

""Don't kill Cedric! Don't kill Cedric!'" Dudely had said, his voice pitched in a high whimper in an attempt to mimic and mock Harry's cries from his dreams. "Who's Cedric - your boyfriend?"

And while all the other taunts about his cries to his mother and father had stung, it was those taunts, about Cedric that had really made Harry see red. And, he realized now, he'd never denied Dudley's taunt about Cedric being his boyfriend.

Of course he hadn't been, but he had wanted him to be. If he had had the courage to speak up, before … before Cedric died.

Curling further into himself, Harry buried his face in his folded arms resting on his knees and sobbed.

Nothing he could do would change things as much as he wished it were true. Cedric was gone. Cedric was dead.