Note To Self (Harry Styles AU)

Chapter Fourteen.

Harry heard the sound of the front door opening and closing, and Winnie got up to run to greet the person entering the house. He knew it was his mother, she always got home at 5:30 everyday.

Harry was busy coloring in a drawing of brain cells with pink and red while Aubry continued on with the notes when she stepped into the doorway. She leaned against the wooden threshold and watched them wordlessly doing their work, but Harry could sense her eyes on the back of his head. He tried looking extra busy by not looking up at her for a single second because in the back of his mind, he was still very aware of the graded test in his backpack.

She knew he was supposed to get it back that day, he'd told her already, and he knew how she was with things like that. She was always on his back about his schoolwork, always checking his grades on the internet, and always the first to ask about seeing the graded assignments he got back.

He hoped she forgot about it by chance, but he wasn't so lucky. She always remembered.

"Harry, can I see your English test?" she asked, sounding rather kind when she did.

He slowly set his pencil down and looked up at her, trying to buy himself time by asking, "What?"

She knew he heard. "Your test."

He frowned, glancing over at his backpack that sat only feet away from him containing the papers in question. "Can we do this later?" he asked hopefully. It wasn't a good grade and he knew she didn't react well to that, and with Aubry there he wasn't so sure it was a good time to show her it.

It didn't matter what he thought, though. Mrs. Styles grew impatient waiting for him and demanded he give her his test. He didn't have a say, he knew he didn't, so he gave in. He stretched to reach for his backpack and unzipped it, regretfully fishing around through his papers until he found the one with the big red C- written across the top.

He kept his eyes to the floor as he held it out for her to take. He knew she saw the grade as soon as it was placed in her hand, but she remained silent as she looked through the pages at all the things he'd gotten wrong, which made him nervous. Her silence was never a good thing.

She hummed in disapproval when she came to the end and flipped the pages closed to look at the final grade at the front once again. She did nothing but flick her finger at him in silent instruction for him to stand and he didn't dare delay following her demand. She pointed out of the room and he practically ran out in the direction she was silently telling him to go in, desperate to get away from her disapproving glare.

He didn't get away, because it followed him into the kitchen where she let him have it.

"A C minus, Harry?" she asked, the anger sharp in her tone as she whacked him in the back of the head with his rolled up test. "How can you bring such a low grade home to me?"

"I'm sorry," he apologized, flinching away when she raised her hand, thinking he was going to get hit again, but she only slapped the test down on the counter top. The sound made him jump.

"Sorry isn't good enough, sorry doesn't raise your grade," she pointed out, looking at him as if she were disgusted with him. He was disgusted with himself.

"I really am sorry," he insisted. "I tried -"

"No, you didn't try," she cut him off. "You didn't try hard enough, otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation."

He kept his mouth shut while she continued.

"This is unacceptable, Harry. Your grades are slipping. First you bring home a B, and now you're down to a C minus. Are you aiming for a D next time?" she questioned and he shook his head in denial. "You need to put forth more effort, you can't keep doing this. You're putting your future in jeopardy by being so careless and lazy."