For the next several days, Harry went through groups listening attentively, and attempting to stay under the radar. He found himself doing much of the same at home, as Severus had been strangely irritable and distant. Harry assumed it was due to work stress and attempted to put it out of his mind. They had already had a couple of mild run-ins, and he did not care for more. 

Instead, he chose to look forward to the upcoming weekend. He planned on meeting Ron and Hermione at the burrow for a fun family day, and later taking Ginny out for a much needed date night. Since Voldemort's demise, Harry had been distant himself, to which Ginny replied with compassion and understanding. He was not the only one who had lost things during the war. This weekend, he was planning on opening up more to his best friends and Ginny, and he anxiously awaited the opportunity. Before the week's end, Teddy came over again, which helped him keep his mind off of things. Before he knew it, it was Friday.

Saying goodbye to his group friends, Harry excused himself to the loo, using its seclusion to apparate home. 

Arriving in the living room, Harry took in the disarray in concern. Severus was known for being meticulous, and it was not like him to have the house in such a state. Quietly entering the kitchen, Harry put the kettle on the stove, subtly looking at Severus who was at the table, papers strewn about and quill in hand. Stealing himself, Harry asked: "Sev?" 

Severus look up questioningly. 

"Care for a cuppa?"

Severus looked back down at his work and shook his head in the negative.  Someone is in a mood again today. Harry thought. It isn't like him to be short. I had better stay in my room for the rest of the day. His mind drifted to a different time. I'll be in my room pretending that I don't exist. Stop it. 

As he absentmindedly set his mug down, he realized too late that he had placed it too close to the counter, watching it tumble to the ground, knocked over by his coat sleeve. He tensed his shoulders, waiting for reprimand. He was not disappointed.

"For Merlin's sake, Harry!" Severus fumed, "How many times do I have to tell you to get your head out of the clouds long enough to think and pay attention to what you are doing? Bloody Gryffindor obliviousness!" Severus ended his rant with a "Harumph," and went back too what he was doing as Harry scrambled to clean up his mess. He did not like it when Severus spoke to  him this way.

The way he used to.

It was only when the kettle went off that he noticed the boy's absence. The kettle sounded eerily similar to a train horn, and Severus went to check on the boy, despite his mood. Entering his bedroom without a knock, he saw the boy sitting on the ground with his back to the door, resting his head on the bed's frame, clutching a pillow. In front of him stood his enchanted window, which was an exact replica of the window Severus had charmed in his room in the dungeons. Seeing the boy's innaction, Severus became annoyed again. "Does Prince Potter care to..." as he rounded the bed, he realized that the boy had, in fact, fallen asleep. 

It was when the boy slept that he looked the least likely able to slay anything, least of all the Dark Lord. Thinking of the vile man caused Severus' mood to sour further, in light of recent events, as he shook the boy's shoulder to wake him up.

"Hm?" The boy mumbled sleepily, and Severus heart shot to his throat as he noticed the boy's white pillowcase stained crimson where the boy clutched it. Grabbing the boy's hands, he saw that it was scratched in several places and covered in blood. Several small glass shards were stuck in the palms, and Severus swore as he summoned a muggle first aid kit. 

The mug. Foolish boy. 

Severus held his hands steady and quickly picked out a piece of glass.

"Ouch! Sev?!" Yelped Harry, looking down and growing sheepish as he realized what was occurring.  

"You cut your hands while cleaning up your mess in the kitchen. Did you not realize you were injured?" He grew more frustrated when the boy did not reply. "And did it not occur to you to use a simple reparo rather than scoop up the mess. Or a broom? Surely Harry Potter can manage a simple spell."

Harry's brows furrowed. "Don't call me that." 

Severus looked down at him, unimpressed. The green eyes looked both wary and defiant. "It's your name. Now answer me." 

Harry looked down again. "I just wanted to fix it. I didn't...I didn't think," he stammered. Severus let out a sarcastic laugh at this and Harry stopped talking, disheartened. "I didn't even notice I was hurt until I came and sat here," he offered. 

"And it did not occur to you then to go into the bathroom and get the first aid kit to clean and bandage your hands? You know where we keep it." 

Harry mumbled incoherently and shrugged.

"SPEAK UP, BOY!" Severus bellowed, enraged. He realized too late that he had used the dreaded apellation frequently used by Harry's poor excuse of an uncle, when Harry's hands quickly left his grasp as the boy flinched, voilently, hitting his head on the bed post. Harry closed his eyes, biting his lip as he attempted not to tear up from the pain. Rubbing his head gingerly, he replied, scarcely above a whisper. 

"I didn't want to make any noise, se..sir. You seemed..." Angry. Volatile. Scary. "...busy and preoccupied lately. I didn't think it mattered. I didn't want to..." he swallowed. "I didn't want to get in the way sir." He looked down at his feet. 

Shit. Severus moved to embrace the boy, but stopped as he was met again with a flinch as Harry scrambled away from him and stood, hovered under the doorframe. He hadn't seen this look in the boy's eyes for quite some time. The look that resembled that of a cornered animal. He cursed himself for bringing it back. 

Lifting his hands up in front of him, as if in surrender, Severus took a step back. "Harry," he began, voice thick with emotion. "I am sorry that I responded earlier in such a way that you felt you had to hole up in your room when experiencing obvious physical..." he paused. "and emotional pain. As a matter of fact, I apologize for every word I have spoken to you today. It's no way to treat somebody you care about." He swallowed, wetting his lips. "It's no way to treat my son." He looked into the boys eyes. "It in no way excuses my actions, but I fear I have been taking out the week's affairs on you."

Severus was encouraged when Harry's tense body began to relax. 

"Of course it matters to me that your hands are bleeding. This is your house to, Harry. You are free to roam about it as you wish. Even if I...even when I am being an arse."

Harry's eyes widened, and he heard a nervous chuckle escape his lips. 

"Now, may I please finish tending to your hands?"

Harry looked at him uncertainly. 

Severus sighed and closed his eyes, letting his guard down completely. "Please, Son. You did nothing wrong. You will not be punished."

Sensing the man's weariness, Harry took a step forward, nodding shakily. They stood in silence as he put salve on the boy's hands and bandaged them up. 

"Sorry Sev," came a small voice, and Severus looked down, feeling his heart ache with self deprecation. Moving slowly, he gently graped each side of the boy's head and kissed his forhead, drawing him into an embrace.

"You did nothing wrong, Harry. It is I who owes you the apology." He was quiet for a moment before adding tiredly, "Let's try again tomorrow." 

Harry nodded into his shoulder. 

That night, Severus vowed to soon tell Harry about the week's events. Harry went to bed with sore hands and a sinking feeling in his gut as he pondered what was going on with his father.