Disclaimer: Read the first three.
Chapter 5 – Bad News
Saturday morning, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table eating breakfast, waiting for Julius to come down and fill them in on what happened with Dumbledore. The ceiling above reflected the clear sunny day that was blossoming outside, and Ron and Harry hoped they could talk Julius into practicing some Quidditch moves with them. By nine-thirty, they were beginning to wonder if he would come down at all.
"He's late," Hermione noted, looking at the clock, as she stirred her tea.
"Maybe he is just a late sleeper?" Ron shrugged, glancing at each of his friends.
Anthony Goldstein and Michael Corner sauntered into the Great Hall a few moments later, chatting quietly to themselves, making their way towards the Ravenclaw table.
"Hey Goldstein," Ron called, gesturing him to come towards their table, "have you seen Julius yet today?"
Anthony Goldstein was about to answer when Julius stepped quietly into the room, looking quite ragged, as if he had hardly slept. Without looking towards anyone, he made his way to the Ravenclaw table and sat, placing a piece of toast on his plate, just staring at it. Anthony quickly sat at the Gryffindor table and leaned in so that only Harry, Hermione and Ron could hear.
"Julius got some bad news last night," he began, turning to watch his housemate sit with his elbow propped on the table, his hand supporting his head. Turning back to the three Gryffindors, he continued, "Apparently, his mother had been ill, and she... she passed away yesterday afternoon," he finished sympathetically.
"Oh, that's awful," Hermione replied, feeling for her friend. "I know he was close to his mother."
"Yeah, "Goldstein continued. "He was really upset. I don't think he slept at all last night. Corner says he was tossing around quite a bit."
A secondary door behind the staff table opened quietly, and the tall, black- clad form of Professor Snape entered, taking his customary seat at the end of the table. His greasy black hair was slightly disheveled, and his eyes were dark empty circles. He didn't look that much better than Julius.
"Since when does Snape eat breakfast?" Harry wondered as he watched the apparently exhausted professor reach towards the coffeepot, pouring himself a cup.
"First I've seen it. What's up with him lately? First Quidditch tryouts, and now this?" Ron added, glancing curiously towards the staff table, and then waving to Goldstein as he left to join his own table.
"He probably was just hungry today," answered Hermione, always giving the benefit of a doubt. Whispering, she continued, "Maybe he was up late doing something for the Order?"
"Maybe," Harry replied, and noting an approaching figure, added," Here comes Julius."
Julius smiled weakly as he sat down with his friends, his eyes red-rimmed, and the skin around them darkened from lack of sleep. Harry and Ron glanced sympathetically towards him, not sure what really to say.
"We heard what happened, Julius," Hermione remarked, making up for their lack of words, and enveloped the Ravenclaw in a warm hug, holding him tightly. "We are so sorry. Is there anything we can do?"
Julius held onto Hermione, thankful for her thoughtfulness and in desperate need of that hug. He closed his eyes tightly trying hard not to break down in front of his friends. "Thanks, "he whispered into the thick locks of her hair, blinking back the tears that he hid beneath his lids as he slowly released her.
Snape watched the Gryffindor table silently, noting the somber camaraderie between his son and his friends. He hadn't slept again that night after Dumbledore told him of his wife's demise, and had drowned his sorrows with nearly the whole of the remaining contents of the whiskey decanter. The alcohol did nothing for his mood, however, and the resulting hangover only made it worse. He wished he could have stayed in bed this morning, but he had promised McGonagall that he would speak to his students about the use of the Potions room. He cursed the Transfiguration professor with each movement as he rose to make his way towards Hermione and Julius, using every ounce of his will to walk upright and not to stumble.
"So what happens now? Do you have someone else that you will stay with?" Harry asked with concern, hoping whoever it would be was better than the Dursleys.
"I'm not sure," Julius replied. "Professor Dumbledore is looking into everything for me."
"You've talked quite a bit about your mother," Hermione commented, her back to the approaching professor, everyone's attention upon Julius. "What about your father?"
Severus Snape paused in mid-step as he heard Miss Granger's question, his throat involuntarily constricting and his heartbeat picking up its pace.
"My father's dead, "Julius replied. "He died shortly after I was born. I never knew him."
Snape relaxed somewhat at Julius's answer, but deep in the pit of his stomach settled something that felt curiously like disappointment. He frowned at himself, and put on once more his cold uncaring mask. "Mr. DeVere, Miss Granger, a word out in the hall," his deep baritone voice muttered darkly, pausing only to offer the remaining Gryffindors a withering look before striding from the hall and out to the corridor beyond.
Hermione and Julius looked at each other curiously, wondering what trouble they had gotten themselves into, and rose to follow Snape out into the hall, expecting the worst. He was waiting for them several feet from the door, standing by one of the tall arched windows that filtered the natural morning light into the corridor, his arms crossed with a deep frown on his pale face.
"Professor McGonagall has informed me that you wish to use the Potions room to tutor Mr. Potter," he began quietly, his deep eyes reflecting the student's own faces back at them. "Is this true?"
"Yes sir," they both replied weakly, their eyes darting towards each other, sure that something horrible was about to come their way.
"I have given it some thought, and I do not agree that it is in the best course to allow an inferior student to continue when he had ample time and resources to achieve the necessary grades to continue his education," he spoke flatly, carefully watching their expressions.
Hermione felt her heart sink, and thinking he was finished, with a look to Julius, began to turn back towards the Great Hall.
"However," Snape continued, causing both students to turn back, glancing at him inquiringly, "taking certain circumstances into consideration, I find myself with no choice but to relent to this request and grant my full permission."
Julius glanced at Hermione with a brow raised, only to be faced with quite a stunned look from his companion. Both kept their mouths firmly shut, afraid even to say 'thank you' lest it all turn out to be a mirage.
"There will be some rules, which I expect to be followed to the letter, Miss Granger. Mr. DeVere, you can pick them up in my office, along with a schedule after dinner tonight. For now, I will leave you with only the first rule. You will speak to no one about tutoring Mr. Potter. Is that clear?"
Both students nodded quickly, still floored that the Potions Master had acceded to their request. With murmured words of gratitude they turned to bolt back to the Great Hall to share the news with Harry.
"Mr. DeVere," Snape called.
Julius paused turning to face his instructor once more, Hermione completing the journey without him. His dark eyes lifted curiously to a pair very similar to his own, and waited for Professor Snape to speak. "Yes sir?" he inquired.
Snape paused, his mind suddenly reeling. What had he been about to say?
Julius stared silently at the tall man before him, his brows raising gradually as each moment passed. "Professor?"
Say something you idiot! He knew what he wanted to say to the boy: to say how sorry he was that his mother passed, about how much his mother had meant to him, how much he had loved her...how sorry he was that he left them. "Make sure you remember to clean up after your mess, afterwards. I don't want to come in to find ingredients left out," he said lamely, turning to stride down the hall towards the stairwell, silently berating himself.
A/N: Thanks to all who have offered such great reviews. I am glad that so many are enjoying the story so far, as I am enjoying writing it. The plot should be picking up within the next few chapters, so hold on to your hats!
Chapter 5 – Bad News
Saturday morning, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table eating breakfast, waiting for Julius to come down and fill them in on what happened with Dumbledore. The ceiling above reflected the clear sunny day that was blossoming outside, and Ron and Harry hoped they could talk Julius into practicing some Quidditch moves with them. By nine-thirty, they were beginning to wonder if he would come down at all.
"He's late," Hermione noted, looking at the clock, as she stirred her tea.
"Maybe he is just a late sleeper?" Ron shrugged, glancing at each of his friends.
Anthony Goldstein and Michael Corner sauntered into the Great Hall a few moments later, chatting quietly to themselves, making their way towards the Ravenclaw table.
"Hey Goldstein," Ron called, gesturing him to come towards their table, "have you seen Julius yet today?"
Anthony Goldstein was about to answer when Julius stepped quietly into the room, looking quite ragged, as if he had hardly slept. Without looking towards anyone, he made his way to the Ravenclaw table and sat, placing a piece of toast on his plate, just staring at it. Anthony quickly sat at the Gryffindor table and leaned in so that only Harry, Hermione and Ron could hear.
"Julius got some bad news last night," he began, turning to watch his housemate sit with his elbow propped on the table, his hand supporting his head. Turning back to the three Gryffindors, he continued, "Apparently, his mother had been ill, and she... she passed away yesterday afternoon," he finished sympathetically.
"Oh, that's awful," Hermione replied, feeling for her friend. "I know he was close to his mother."
"Yeah, "Goldstein continued. "He was really upset. I don't think he slept at all last night. Corner says he was tossing around quite a bit."
A secondary door behind the staff table opened quietly, and the tall, black- clad form of Professor Snape entered, taking his customary seat at the end of the table. His greasy black hair was slightly disheveled, and his eyes were dark empty circles. He didn't look that much better than Julius.
"Since when does Snape eat breakfast?" Harry wondered as he watched the apparently exhausted professor reach towards the coffeepot, pouring himself a cup.
"First I've seen it. What's up with him lately? First Quidditch tryouts, and now this?" Ron added, glancing curiously towards the staff table, and then waving to Goldstein as he left to join his own table.
"He probably was just hungry today," answered Hermione, always giving the benefit of a doubt. Whispering, she continued, "Maybe he was up late doing something for the Order?"
"Maybe," Harry replied, and noting an approaching figure, added," Here comes Julius."
Julius smiled weakly as he sat down with his friends, his eyes red-rimmed, and the skin around them darkened from lack of sleep. Harry and Ron glanced sympathetically towards him, not sure what really to say.
"We heard what happened, Julius," Hermione remarked, making up for their lack of words, and enveloped the Ravenclaw in a warm hug, holding him tightly. "We are so sorry. Is there anything we can do?"
Julius held onto Hermione, thankful for her thoughtfulness and in desperate need of that hug. He closed his eyes tightly trying hard not to break down in front of his friends. "Thanks, "he whispered into the thick locks of her hair, blinking back the tears that he hid beneath his lids as he slowly released her.
Snape watched the Gryffindor table silently, noting the somber camaraderie between his son and his friends. He hadn't slept again that night after Dumbledore told him of his wife's demise, and had drowned his sorrows with nearly the whole of the remaining contents of the whiskey decanter. The alcohol did nothing for his mood, however, and the resulting hangover only made it worse. He wished he could have stayed in bed this morning, but he had promised McGonagall that he would speak to his students about the use of the Potions room. He cursed the Transfiguration professor with each movement as he rose to make his way towards Hermione and Julius, using every ounce of his will to walk upright and not to stumble.
"So what happens now? Do you have someone else that you will stay with?" Harry asked with concern, hoping whoever it would be was better than the Dursleys.
"I'm not sure," Julius replied. "Professor Dumbledore is looking into everything for me."
"You've talked quite a bit about your mother," Hermione commented, her back to the approaching professor, everyone's attention upon Julius. "What about your father?"
Severus Snape paused in mid-step as he heard Miss Granger's question, his throat involuntarily constricting and his heartbeat picking up its pace.
"My father's dead, "Julius replied. "He died shortly after I was born. I never knew him."
Snape relaxed somewhat at Julius's answer, but deep in the pit of his stomach settled something that felt curiously like disappointment. He frowned at himself, and put on once more his cold uncaring mask. "Mr. DeVere, Miss Granger, a word out in the hall," his deep baritone voice muttered darkly, pausing only to offer the remaining Gryffindors a withering look before striding from the hall and out to the corridor beyond.
Hermione and Julius looked at each other curiously, wondering what trouble they had gotten themselves into, and rose to follow Snape out into the hall, expecting the worst. He was waiting for them several feet from the door, standing by one of the tall arched windows that filtered the natural morning light into the corridor, his arms crossed with a deep frown on his pale face.
"Professor McGonagall has informed me that you wish to use the Potions room to tutor Mr. Potter," he began quietly, his deep eyes reflecting the student's own faces back at them. "Is this true?"
"Yes sir," they both replied weakly, their eyes darting towards each other, sure that something horrible was about to come their way.
"I have given it some thought, and I do not agree that it is in the best course to allow an inferior student to continue when he had ample time and resources to achieve the necessary grades to continue his education," he spoke flatly, carefully watching their expressions.
Hermione felt her heart sink, and thinking he was finished, with a look to Julius, began to turn back towards the Great Hall.
"However," Snape continued, causing both students to turn back, glancing at him inquiringly, "taking certain circumstances into consideration, I find myself with no choice but to relent to this request and grant my full permission."
Julius glanced at Hermione with a brow raised, only to be faced with quite a stunned look from his companion. Both kept their mouths firmly shut, afraid even to say 'thank you' lest it all turn out to be a mirage.
"There will be some rules, which I expect to be followed to the letter, Miss Granger. Mr. DeVere, you can pick them up in my office, along with a schedule after dinner tonight. For now, I will leave you with only the first rule. You will speak to no one about tutoring Mr. Potter. Is that clear?"
Both students nodded quickly, still floored that the Potions Master had acceded to their request. With murmured words of gratitude they turned to bolt back to the Great Hall to share the news with Harry.
"Mr. DeVere," Snape called.
Julius paused turning to face his instructor once more, Hermione completing the journey without him. His dark eyes lifted curiously to a pair very similar to his own, and waited for Professor Snape to speak. "Yes sir?" he inquired.
Snape paused, his mind suddenly reeling. What had he been about to say?
Julius stared silently at the tall man before him, his brows raising gradually as each moment passed. "Professor?"
Say something you idiot! He knew what he wanted to say to the boy: to say how sorry he was that his mother passed, about how much his mother had meant to him, how much he had loved her...how sorry he was that he left them. "Make sure you remember to clean up after your mess, afterwards. I don't want to come in to find ingredients left out," he said lamely, turning to stride down the hall towards the stairwell, silently berating himself.
A/N: Thanks to all who have offered such great reviews. I am glad that so many are enjoying the story so far, as I am enjoying writing it. The plot should be picking up within the next few chapters, so hold on to your hats!