Harry moaned into the kiss he shared with Severus. He wasn't entirely sure how, but at some point he'd migrated over to the point that he was half in the Potions Master's lap. He would be leaving tomorrow to resume the practical lessons of his apprenticeship. Inspired by his rebuttal article, Master Ailin had announced that they would be going to Greece, and from there they would tour Europe from the ground up. They would, of course, be constantly on the lookout for trouble to be gotten into. Severus had already expressed his concern over Harry's departure, but didn't seem quite done with that.

"Harry…" Severus murmured, pulling away only far enough to rest his forehead against the Gryffindor's.

Harry groaned, hearing the heart-wrenching concern in the deep baritone. "Severus, we've been over this. I'll be fine." He was starting to get the impression that they would not be spending his last night at the castle as he had originally hoped.

"Is it so selfish of me to want to keep you at my side, so that I might guarantee your safe return?" Severus asked, planting a light kiss on Harry's lips.

Harry deepened the kiss for a moment before pulling away to look sternly at the Potions Master.

"Yes," He answered firmly. "But I appreciate your concern. Besides, it would hardly be a 'return' if I never left in the first place."

Severus scowled. "You are remarkably accident prone, Mister Potter. Promise me that you will be careful."

Harry smirked, shifting out of Severus lap to grab his coffee from the low table in front of the couch. "No promises," He teased.

He sipped at his coffee and set it down. When he turned back to the Potions Master, however, to resume the addictive kisses, Severus pulled away. Harry frowned as the man not only pulled away from him, but stood from the couch entirely after a moment.

"Severus, what's wrong?"

"I have work that needs doing," Severus bit out. "We are not all so blessedly free of real responsibility as you are."

Harry, more than a little hurt, stood. "Severus, I don't-" He reached for a tense shoulder, only to have it jerked away.

"Get out."

Harry froze for a moment in uncertainty. He had no idea what he had said or done, but he could feel pain, sharp as a dagger, ripping at his chest. His chin trembled, but he swept away the useless urge to cry.

"Alright, Severus, I'll go. I'm sorry, for whatever I said. Will you still be there to see us off with everyone else?" Harry asked a little hopefully.

Severus didn't respond and Harry felt the dagger-tip tear further into his chest. He slumped, gathering his robes and shoes, and left the Potions Master's quarters. When he was in the corridor, he paused long enough to slip into his shoes and robes before removing himself entirely from the dungeons. In familiar fashion, Hurt and Anger warred in his chest. By the time he reached his own quarters, Anger had begun to win the battle.

When he left the next morning without seeing Severus at all, Anger demolished his hurt. By the time they'd reached the white beaches of their first foreign country, Hurt made a harsh, soul-crushing return that buried his anger under a tidal wave of pain.

-Break-

After a few days traveling the Greek Isles, Harry resolved himself to his pain. His anger was gone entirely from him. He also resolved himself to writing Severus. He had agreed to do so, and would uphold his end, even if he never heard back. It was no promise, but it still meant something to the Gryffindor; a small bit of honor to cling to as his heart wept rivers in his chest. So, on his third day amongst the brilliantly bronzed Greek Wizards, Harry sat down and forced himself to pen a letter he had no heart for.

-Break-

Harry received a reply the next day, as he and Master Ailin were packing to leave Greece, having found no adventures to pursue. He opened the letter a little warily, half-expecting to find the vitriol he'd grown used to in six years of schooling. Instead, he found what he might have expected had they not fought at all before he'd left. There was no mention of anything that had passed the last time they'd seen each other, no hint of the anger or bite he'd been given in their last moments together. The thing that screamed off the page was what should have been there and wasn't. There was no apology.

Instead, Severus seemed to be treating things as if nothing had happened. Harry felt his anger boil dangerously, but he pushed it down and resigned himself to his hurt. Hurt was easier, and anger, at this point, would be useless. He could try confronting Severus in a letter, but the pain the man had wrought would prevent any level of calm and would only fan the flames of both their tempers. And he couldn't very well traverse Europe feeling hot-tempered. It would disrupt his apprenticeship, to say the least. Hurt, though…well, he was expertly trained in hiding his pain. Anger could wait until he saw Severus again in the new school term. He certainly wasn't going to interrupt the man's summer experiments with something as trivial as seeing one another, either for a fight or reconciliation, once they returned to England. And his hurt was…such a small thing.

A/N: Ha! Didn't think I was gonna fit that in here, did you? Well, I did, so nyah.