A/N: This story is based on the song "What It Is To Burn" by Finch. If you've heard the song, you'll probably recognize some lines from it within this fic. Enjoy and review!

What It Is To Burn

Today is fire.

The sky is a deep red and streaked with orange. There are no pink or purple tinges like a usual sunset. It's like the sky is bleeding above me and I am blistering.

How appropriate that today, of all days, there is a sky of fire. Is it an omen of bloodshed and disaster, death and grief? Or is it a sign of the dark times being torched and swept away leaving room for new beginnings? I, myself, may never know. There is a great chance I will die before I see the outcome.

Shivering at the thought, I crouch a little closer to the flames licking at the ashen logs within the fireplace. I'm always cold these days. I feel diseased, but I doubt it has anything to do with sickness.

Is there no sympathy from the sun?

The hours are slipping through my cupped palms like water and all I can think is, what have I done to deserve this? Such tragedy should not fall upon the shoulders of a seventeen-year-old. The weight of such decisions should not rest on the mind of a mere boy. I am not strong or great, nor selfless or brave.

In fact, I am a coward. And I am unbelievably selfish.

My weakness is that I always run. It's what I've done my whole life. From "Harry Hunting" with Dudley, to facing Voldemort. The instinct is always to get away as fast as possible. I even run from her. She tries to smile and look as though it doesn't bother her, but she can't hide the hurt in her eyes when I tell her it's nothing.

I've ended up in the Hospital Wing too many times than I care to remember, but every time she'd ask me, "What's wrong Harry? What hurts?" and all I wanted to say was, "Everything. My legs hurt from searching too long. My head aches from thinking too many thoughts. My eyes burn from staring at your beauty far too many times than I should. And my heart is breaking because I love you far too much, but I can't have you."

Instead, however, I'd take a deep contemplating breath and force an offhanded look before answering

"It's nothing," as I run from her again.

The fire crackles loudly and rouses me from my thoughts. Yawning, I move myself closer to the dying embers.

I really should be with Ron and Hermione right now. There are only hours before "The Final Battle" (or as I liked to think of it in my mind: "The Last Time Harry Potter And Voldemort Meet To Beat The Living Shit Out Of Each Other.") and I should be using it to spend time with my friends. Who knows? I might actually never see them again after tonight.

With that devastating thought stuck in my mind, I make to get up off the floor but as I do, a lick of flame caresses my hand.

"Ow," I mumble as I cradle my injured hand. It's the only thing I've spoken for hours. When silence breaks, it always seems so much more suffocating when it returns. My ears start to ring and I rub at them in an irritated fashion.

I stare at the merry flames and wonder, what is it like to burn?

Suddenly a creaking sound breaks into my brooding. My ears perk and I listen intently. The sound stops briefly but starts up again. Footsteps. More specifically, her footsteps.

I can't really say how I know it's her, I just know. She thinks I don't know she's there, but she should know better. My senses haven't dulled over the years.

I can feel her gaze upon me like a presence. It creeps up behind me and lays itself across my shoulders. It soothes my tensed body. It carefully removes all the pain and sadness.

She takes away my burdens.

All this time I've thought of only myself. Tried to push her away, run from her. I thought she wouldn't understand, but I didn't realize she was right there with me every time tragedy struck. She not only knew how I felt, but echoed it.

And all at once she's there beside me and her tears fall thick and heavy on my shoulder. She's tried to be strong for so long. My heart is breaking for her. She's burning up from the inside.

Her head tilts upwards to look at me. There are tears running down her cheeks and her eyes are red, but to me she has never looked more beautiful. Her lips part and my head tilts sideways.

I shouldn't be doing this. I'm taking advantage of her fragile state.

But like a bad star, I'm falling faster down to her.

---------

The grass is stained red. There is so much blood. So many bodies. Too many tears.

I'm running (just like always). I'm not even sure where I'm running to or what I'm running from. All I know is that the grass is slippery beneath my aching feet, and not just from the morning dew.

Screams and burst of light punctuate the area around me. Faces all blur together. I trip over something that feels suspiciously like a body, but I don't stop to look. I just keep running.

That's when I see it.

There she is, her robes spattered with dirt and blood and her wand out. Opposite her is a Death Eater, seemingly untouched by the battle, with his wand held out lazily as if killing her would be a simple task indeed.

My heart stops beating. She is less than ten feet away from her worst fear.

And what is the worst fear of the girl who knows everything you ask?

The unknown.

There is no book that she can read that will teach her how to use her instincts, how to survive against a deadly foe that wants her blood. That is what frightens her the most.

Our eyes meet and I see the resigned look in her face. She's accepted the fact that she will die fighting. Her face cracks into a beautiful half smile and everything slows.

Without conscious thought, my numb feet begin to move. I am running. I am running to her.

The deadly words are slipping from his mouth. He's going to finish her.

Is this the price to pay for glory? Because I'd give anything to see her alive.

My body collides with hers and pushes her out of the way as the jet of green light hits me square in the chest.

After all, she's the only one who knows what it is to burn.