Chapter 14: Rain Drops keep Fallen On My Head

Disclaimer: I Don't Own Harry Potter. If I did, I wouldn't be on fanfiction.net. That just wouldn't make sense...

A/n: Don't shoot me, I know that its been a long, long time since I've updated. But I was in Utah for over a week snowboarding! Stop the violence, man…

Immediately the sweatshirt was up over my head and on the grass with one fluid movement. I beat it against the floor, the fire was minimal.

Five beatings later, the fire would not put out (!). I took a moment to study it.

The flames weren't as they were supposed to look. They didn't spread their peculiarly bright flames across my woolen sweater, but stood almost stagnant across the back. Its color was radiant, but from what I could tell, emitted no heat. Just cold waves. It held no threatening stance whatsoever.

I dropped the sweater on the ground again. The moment it left my reach it began to die down. Not wanting to lose it, I crouched next to the heap slowly. I held my hand over the flame, and it rose. Normal, right?

I had the sudden urge to touch the flame. My hand was only inches away...

It was cold as well. I actually held my palm through the center of the flame. Surely my hand would have been burning by now. The flame began to climb higher at my touch. Frightened, I snapped my hand away. It instantly died.

"Ahh!" I yelled. My hand was under the consumption of a bright red flame. I waved it around madly.

I heard a loud rumble, causing me to stair up at the sky. Hadn't I noticed how dark it had become? One drop of rain landed on my cheek. Another on my back. Two on my chin.

Lightening clapped in the distance. More rain pounded around me, touching every dry part of me that was exposed to its path. I thrust my hand up higher, making it easier for the rain to hit it.

"What in the world- Argh!" The flame merely laughed at my futile attempts and remained in its healthy glowing state.

Through squinted eyes I looked for an answer on how to put this 'thing' out. When there came none, I sat my arse down on the grass and hugged my knees, holding my flaming hand away from the rest of me.

I was cold again, I was wet again, and I was damned well angry again. I punched the ground with my fist. Unfortunately, that only made matters worse. My fist throbbed with pain.

I laid back in exasperation, letting the rain fall all over my face but not really caring. I wouldn't be able to go back to the school like this, flaming fists weren't normal even for a witch. I closed my eyes. I could tell that my hand was still enflamed, it felt cooler than the warm rain.

The thunderstorm lasted all afternoon. And there I laid, oblivious to the world around me. I felt calmer, sleepier. It didn't take much energy to fall asleep, the rain beating down against me and gently lulling me into a frightless sleep.

"Do not be afraid."

"I don't understand," I said to nothingness.

"You are what you are. The flame you carry, is indeed not one to be carelessly thrown away. It is a tool, it is a sign of what you are."

"And what am I then?

"A tool. This is your duty, this is your destiny. The flame is not your enemy. Do not treat it like one. Embrace your instincts. Do not follow your path, lead it. You are..."

"What the hell am I?" I yelled, awakening from the dream and sitting straight up. I was soaked to the bone all over. Maybe wearing a white shirt hadn't been the best idea I'd ever had (!).

All I know is that the flame had disappeared from my hand, leaving a dry spot on myself. I touched it with my other hand and it felt the same as it did before, smooth and skin- like (A/n: imagine that!).

Gratefully I smiled to myself, but only for a moment. It was still raining outside when I awoke. I had no idea as to how long I had been out, but it was dark. The moon was invisible tonight.

I searched the ground for the sweater. When I found it, it was sopping wet as well. I wrung it out and tied it around my waist.

The castle was glowing brightly behind me. I could make out each individual candle flame against the stone walls of Hogwarts. I never really noticed how big it was until now. Except for maybe when I first saw at my first year here at Hogwarts. But the school looked different now. I saw it in a whole new light, as a sanctuary. Half of the students in the school would be dead by now if not for Hogwarts. Several of them close friends of mine.

It was at this moment that I realized that I was outside of the sanctuary. For so long I had been exposed to the real world and I hadn't even known it. What had kept me safe? There were so many things that had happened, and he was always there to save me.

"Harry?" I said aloud. I felt his presence. He was somehow always there. Every time I needed some one, he was always there. Always.

"Yes?" he spoke. Obviously he was using the cloak again.

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Nothing."

"Okay then. Tell me why you're out here?"

"I fell asleep."

"But why?"

"My arm was on fire."

"What?" I could feel the doubt in his voice as well.

"It was on fire. First my back was on fire. Then it got on the sweater. Then I touched the fire because I'm an idiot. Then my hand lit on fire. Then it wouldn't go out. then it started to rain. Then I fell asleep. Then I woke up from another weird dream. Then my arm was not on fire. And then you were here." I breathed deeply. "That was a lot of 'thens'."

But Harry didn't seem interested in my 'then' thoughts. He was more concerned with what really happened. "What did you dream?" he hurriedly asked.

"It was another weird voice. Told me all this crap about my destiny, and fire and..."

"Another one?"

"I had one this morning. When I looked out at Harper's Morning. It was pretty much the same thing. It told me that I was a tool, and I have to follow my path. The basic stuff," I said with a shrug.

"And your arm was on fire?"

"Actually it was my hand, but they're all the same thing."

"And your back too?"

"Yes," I reassured.

"Did it hurt, or, what was it?"

"It was nothing. I felt nothing. No pain."

"Hm," he contemplated. "I don't know what that means."

"Join the club."

"I'll go to Dumbledore. Though he might not be at the best of spirits right now. Fawkes is gone. This afternoon, there's nothing left." I heard the soft crunches of him walking across the field.

"Oh," I whispered. "I'm going back in."

He fake- laughed, a new trademark of a new Harry. "Not like drenched that you're not. Filch would have a fit."

"I don't care anymore. You heading off too?"

"Yeah. But I wanted to... to say goodnight to Ron and Hermione. Not literally say goodnight, but see them one last time. Is that... is that right?" He asked.

"Its normal. Actually it isn't normal in your case. But it's right for you to want to see them, even if they can't see you. It might help you. I think you should go for it. Just don't get caught," I warned.

"How would I get caught?"

"I don't know, Ron's really weird. Sometimes he has a sixth sense about this kind of stuff. Just be careful."

"I will."