Disclaimer: nothing of my own. They're all in JK Rowling's possession. The sole reason for playing is that I just need to see the world in Harmony!

a/n: I was very bitter. I channeled my bitterness into Harry, hence out came the story. Hope you enjoy!

Nightfall in the tent

His eyes felt like magical bolt penetrating through her. She couldn't bear to look straight at him. Instead, she focused on the front of his tattered sweater, her throat locked with unsaid feelings.

He was staring intensely at her, his eyes probably fixed on her lips. It was hard to tell, since she was having difficulty breathing, her heart hammering away in her chest. She was torn between groping his face to snog him senseless and running off in the pretense of missing Ron. Memories of twinkles in Ginny's eyes when she mentioned their blissful moments twisting in her heart, she hurriedly turned away to hide unbidden tears leaking through her irises, only to feel his grip tightening around her waist

"Hermione!" he said urgently.

She resisted, refusing to look at him.

"Hermione!" he repeated, more forcefully.

"Harry," she looked up then, his questioning gaze blurry through her tears. She swallowed painfully, her voice quavering in the fading music "What else do you want from me? Please, just stop this! L-let me go! I...I cannot bear it anymore..."

"Neither can I" He croaked and pushed her rather violently into one of the bunk beds.

All of his weight pressing on top of her, he crushed his lips against her mouth, causing her to struggle ineffectually, her hands fumbling with the bed sheets, trying to prop herself off the bed, but he was too strong, trapping both of her arms in his hold.

She squeezed her eyes shut, closed her lips tight in protest, but he was intent on devouring her face, ferociously grazing her lower lip. Shaking her head weakly, she pleaded with him to free her, desperation cracking her voice. He spared her a scathing look, his eyes turning dark, before burying his head in her cleavage, trailing his tongue slowly up her bare breast.

She could feel shame clawing beneath her skin, bitterness throttling her neck, mingled with a dragging aftertaste of pure shock. She hazily wondered where he had banished her shirt and bra so she could retrieve them later, her naked top flaming with his merciless assaults. A flash of what he might have done with the pretty redhead seared in her chaotic mind so abruptly that she was caught limp with raw pain underneath him.

He was kissing and sucking her navel, his warm hands fondling her bosom eagerly. She had ceased squirming altogether. She was splaying obediently on the bed, her frizzled hair matted with tears around her face. She gradually calmed at the thought of being able to give him a kernel of pleasure in the darkest of time. Desire was allowed to trickle within her when he started to trail kisses behind her ears and murmured her name in a husky voice so unlike his own that she felt as if they were in a steamy dream, her head reeled with his scents and his soft touches.

She arched her damp neck to give him more access, yet she could sense his lips suddenly frozen on her skin. He lifted his head up to look at her face, terror churning beneath his glassy eyes. He cursed loudly and sprang up from the bed at once, leaving her shivering from lack of body warmth.

To her consternation, he started to pace frantically around the small tent and beat up anything in his way. He kicked the cookware scattered in a corner, throwing the kettle at the radio, making it drop to the ground with a loud smash. Music choked briefly before dying completely, more blaring sounds rising against the heavy silence as he swept everything off the table and turned over the chairs. She winced, her gaze following him anxiously, striving to comprehend his unexpected fit of rage.

He banged his fist against the tent pole, crashing the oil lamp in the process, and the crunching sound pierced her ears as she felt a throb in her heart. Trepidation forced a gasp out of her throat, "Harry, what-"

"Go!" He turned around and growled, cutting her off before she could voice her question, yet she couldn't care less about her earlier confusion. She involuntarily grabbed the head of the bed to steady herself, bringing her hand to her mouth to hold back a wail of utter dismay, grief sweeping over her as she caught his red-rimmed eyes and blood oozing from a deep cut in his hand.

"Leave!" He was pointing at the only opening in the tent, his chest rising and falling fiercely, his menacing voice muffled, "I cannot stand crying girls. Get the hell out of my sight!"

Instead of intimidation, she was overwhelmed with extreme sorrow to see his haggard face stained with tears, dark circles visible around his eyes, naked hurt in his emerald orbs belying the angry scowls etched on his brows. It fleetingly startled her to realize that his face lost all traces of the boyishness that had endeared him to her since the day they first met. Standing in front of her was a man whose shoulders stiffened to carry the burdens of wartime hardships, every features of his listless face shadowed with months of living rough, only his flashing eyes vibrant with a plethora of emotions.

She instinctively came closer, feeling an urge to touch the stubble on his chin and hug him, doing anything to soothe his ire, yet he raised his arm to stop her, one hand still gripping the pole tight. Sudden chills wafting from outside rasped at her bare skin, making her shiver ever so lightly. Upon seeing him rake his hand through his tousled mop, betraying his unease, she made bigger strides towards the other end of the tent, adamant to reach him. He turned sharply to face her, and she almost keeled over with pain under his flinty glare, rendered dizzy with the smell of blood and scarlet smudges on broken shards around his feet.

He was ogling her breast, the cloudy sheen in his eyes making her flinch. She automatically covered her humble body with her skinny arms, feeling heat creep up to her cheeks. She heard him laugh bitterly, and all of a sudden, she was fully clothed again, a new woolen jumper added on top of her former plaid shirt. Caught by surprise, and an inexplicable pang of regret, she looked imploringly up at him, "Harry, please—"

"Hermione!" somehow, his face was very close to hers, his eyes glistening with tears. She could hear her heart break inside her chest at the misery in his soft voice, "Please just go!"

"No, I won't ever leave you." Before she knew what she was doing, she grabbed his injured hand and cradled it in her small palms, worry surging in her stomach, "You're hurt."

"None of your concern." he pulled away roughly, engendering bafflement in her hurtful eyes. He continued before she could retort, his back to her, his cold voice stabbing her soul, "You don't want to die. Come back to Ron!"

"What?" she sputtered indignantly, seizing his arm, forcing him to look at her, "And let you go search the stupid soul fragments of Voldemort all alone?" Her voice kept rising in an explosion of hurt and anger, "You told me to coop myself up in some cozy warm place like a coward when you camp yourself out here, in a ragged tent, with dangers lying in wait to ambush you every day?" She looked deeply in his eyes, willing him to understand her sincerity, "You can't stop me fighting, Harry!"

Unexpectedly, he pushed her away with such force that she staggered, almost tumbling to the ground. She had hardly managed to keep her balance when he threw his arms up and glowered at her, making her cringe in fear.

"It's not safe," he roared. She was alarmed to see tears flowing down his cheeks, his voice brittle, "and you are miserable…" He wavered and let it come out in a rush, "…and I-I am a pathetic git who has not a clue how to comfort a girl pining after my bloody best friend, while she felt obliged to stay with me…"

"No, it's not like that." she blurted out, remorse taunting at her face, dread tightening her chest. She knew she had done it on purpose, closing him off and losing touch with his feelings to save her heart from going astray. Suddenly longing to cry in his arms, she unwittingly reached out for him.

"Please, Harry, let…let me explain!" she said in a wobbly voice.

"Bloody hell!" he stepped back to avoid her touch, bumping into the flimsy fabric of the tent. He was losing his temper again. "For Merlin's sake, leave me! I don't want your pity or your bloody noble sense of duty!" He was looking around wildly as if to search for anything remained in the wrecked tent to hit again.

She opened her mouth to respond, but he carried on, his voice hoarse, "Go to Ron, snog him, sleep with him, or do whatever you like, whatever makes you happy. You are no longer needed here."

She sucked in a sharp breath, feeling downright faint from his spiteful words, her mind numb with disbelief. He didn't seem to notice that she was about to break down right there before his eyes, and sneered at her, but not before she caught a flicker of wounded pride and hurt in his eyes.

"Scarlet woman?" he scoffed, "Ron doesn't know a bloody faithful one he has."

"How dare you! I am nobody's possession. I haven't even had my first kiss! How could you…" she trailed off as a distinct slapping sound resounded in her head. She blinked and was horrified to see his burning red cheek, the stinging sensation still fresh in her fingers.

He gave her a look of neither indignation nor resentment, but a look of utter melancholy and dejection that snapped her out of stupor. Sparkles of any earlier strong emotions wilting in his eyes, he let out a solitary sob, his shoulders sagging under layers of unfathomable woes. He quietly approached her, lifted his hand up but let it fall back down just before he could touch her.

Together, their eyes dropped to the nasty puncture in his hand, flicked up and met in a heartrending moment that threatened to make her knees give way. She was bleeding inside, vitality drained from her body with each drip of the crimson, thick liquid from his hand. It wasn't so much the sight of blood and its rusty, metallic odor as how that wretched life essential twisted his fate that brought a nauseous feeling in her mouth. She yearned to be held tight in his arms so badly, and her mournful eyes silently begged him to grant her wish.

"I'm…I'm sorry." He choked, tears welling up in his dull green eyes.

Her heart shattered to pieces that moment. She put her head in her hands and burst into tears. That one night, she did the last thing she thought she would do and ran away, leaving him behind in the cold tent.

tbc.