Off his game was putting things lightly. Harry was so off his game it wasn't even funny. He'd left Malfoy and Nott to find their own way out of the Ministry in order to go and put through the proper paperwork. If someone went looking into the incident, he wanted to have somewhat of a paper trail to appease them. He just thanked Merlin that Oliver wasn't the sort to pursue something like this. SO long as the wound did not interfere with his career, he was happy to let it go. The same could not be said for others.
Filing that report had been the bloody thing he'd had to do in a long time. Harry wasn't a skilled liar. Those who knew him could see through most of his outright lies ... not that he lied a lot. Hiding ones emotions wasn't exactly the same thing as outright lying. Still ... writing out what had supposedly happened left a sour taste in his mouth. He'd always hated the fact that it was so easy to sweep something under the rug within the ministry and now he was taking full advantage of that weakness. Sure, it was a minor thing in comparison to some of it's employees past transgressions, but that didn't make it right. Nothing was going to make it right now. He'd have to bloody well live with it. He'd given Nott and Malfoy the out they needed and he would just feel guilt for taking it away. Bloody Malfoy. Harry had liked it better when he'd thought the blond had no heart.
Of course, even hiding his emotions there were certain people he couldn't exactly hide from and Dean was one of them. It had always irritated the bloody hell out of him when the older man had easily pinpointed the moment Harry's behaviour shifted. So, Harry wasn't entirely surprised to suddenly find him ruffling his hair like he was a bloody toddler. Shooting the other Auror a glare, he lifted a hand and unsuccessfully attempted to straighten his hair.
"You realize that I'm not a child, right?" he commented dryly as he stood up from his desk. It was futile to refuse and Harry knew it. Lunch it would be.