Yes, we have another story to add…well, this one's ventus', I just type everything. All I know is that it's going to be, or it's supposed to end up as a Hp/Bz, but that's it. So I hope you enjoy the first chapter and please review!

And anyone who has also read Salvation agrees with me that she has a random obsession for chapter titles that are also songs…right?

Sunburn

Chapter 1: No leaf clover

-'Why?'

Honey eyes looked down, locks of frizzy brown hair falling to cover them.

-'I'm sorry…'

Black hair flew slightly askew as a head was shook. Fists clenched and teeth were ground together. Emerald eyes shut tightly. 'I can't do this…' A deep breath, a shaken voice. 'I miss you.'

The girl smiled sadly, a tear sliding down her cheek. 'Goodbye Harry.'

A boy awoke with a start, gasping for breath. His green eyes were wide, the pupils taking over the irises. Dried tears streaked down his pale face and his whole body in sync with his wildly beating heart. He sat up with a groan and grabbed a cup on his bed side table. After a few gulps of the clear liquid, he leaned back against his headboard and looked out of his window. The darkness of the night welcomed him, cloudless black, so close yet so far away. His orbs slipped back to the room, meeting his trembling hands.

A crystal drop landed on his bedspread followed another, and another, and another…

'Hermione…'

-'Harry, I'm worried about you.' A dark head was bowed and the owner grasped his mug tightly. Remus sat opposite him at Grimmauld place's kitchen table. 'You haven't laughed in a while. You're constantly training, even when we're not here. You and Ron are barely talking. Since Hermione-'

'Remus! How's the horcrux situation?'

'Harry…' Green eyes glared at him and he sighed deeply. 'No improvement. There are still two that are completely eluding us. Uhm…the fifth one was destroyed yesterday. We kept the pieces in case you, or Ron or her parents…'

'Throw them out.'

The seventeen year old got up and left the dark room. The werewolf sighed once more and rubbed his forehead warily. 'Oh James, Lily, what should we do with your son?'

Harry walked quickly through the hallways, intent on getting to the training rooms. He was so occupied trying to block out his treacherous thoughts that he did not see the redheaded boy walking his way.

'Oomph!'

Harry groaned and opened his eyes to see a hand thrust out in front of him. He grabbed it without second thought and was pulled upwards.

'I'm sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going.' He tried to answer but his throat closed up and his voice left him. All he could do was shake his head.

'Uhum, well, I…I guess I'll go then…' Harry was in a daze, thinking of first year when that same redheaded boy had erupted in the lonely train compartment and had made him feel friendship for the first time. He suddenly shook himself out of his stupor and croaked out: 'Wait, Ron!'

But it was too little too late, the redheaded boy was nearly gone. Harry caught a glimpse of his back as he disappeared into one of the many rooms that littered the hall.

Mismatched eyes glinted sadly as they took in the sight of a teenage boy furiously hitting a punching bag. His entire frame was stiff and tense and his eyes were narrowed in concentration.

Moody felt sorrow sinking into his stomach ass he watched another war hero being created. He could practically see the blocked thoughts and emotions in the boy's head. He could not pretend that he did approve of the rigorous training the teenager had inflicted upon himself. Every day he received lessons from an Order member, he would then duel with whoever was present and finally would go to that room every night and punch his frustrations away. However, since the little girl that used to accompany him had died, he and the Weasley had taken different paths. Harry was constantly busy, and just pushed the pain away. He did not heal, he simply stalled his suffering. Ron though, spent his entire summer thinking about it and was slowly but surely, moving on. Whereas the redhead was still living a relatively normal life, no life could be entirely normal during war, the other was becoming, day by day, a weapon.

'Would you like anything off of the trolley, dear?' Harry looked at the old woman and shook his head. She smiled politely and left the compartment. The seventeen year old looked out of the window silently. After about 10 minutes of awkward silence, Ron had left to join the other Gryffindor students. They were not even going to bother pretending that there was anything worth salvaging in their friendship. He took a deep breath and stood up before opening the door and taking a stroll in the train's hallways.

Carriages were lined together, pulled by dark horse like creatures called Thestrals. In one of the rapidly advancing cars sat two teenagers. On opposite benches Blaise Zabini and Harry Potter were observing each other in quiet contemplation. Dark brown eyes met piercing verdant and neither was willing to look away first. The carriage suddenly halted, signalling the end of the trip. They broke eye contact and stepped down from the method of transportation. As they hurried inside the Great Hall, they missed the other's speculative glance.