Disclaimer: The characters in this story (except Julius, he is all mine :) ) and the universe in which they exist are the sole property of J. K. Rowling. Yadda Yadda
Chapter 9 - Ravenclaw vs. Hufflepuff
The next two weeks flew by quickly, with Harry rapidly showing better progress than Julius or Hermione had hoped (or Snape expected). It seemed that under the direction of different tutelage, the bespeckled boy was quite capable of producing the difficult potions taught in sixth-year, many on the first try. He had just needed some closer instruction on developing his technique and some encouragement.
Snape had been there each night the trio used the room, always having some excuse to work on his own private store of bottled potions and remedies. He never interrupted the students (well, except one time when Potter misbrewed a potion, causing the room to fill with a noxious orange gas), always watching secretly from the sidelines, a welling sense of pride for his son increasing with each class.
Julius often stayed behind afterwards, to the shocked reactions of Hermione and Harry, and discussed the potions Snape was brewing that day, the Potions Master going over each one in patient detail to ensure the boy understood what was required. They also went over what transpired in the tutoring class, with the professor offering advice on how to get the most out of their sessions.
Their growing rapport was not going unnoticed. Draco Malfoy observed their joint presence on several occasions as he made his way back to the Slytherin common room in the late hours of the night, and he frowned, wondering with horror if he was being replaced as Snape's favourite. But each Potions class he attended, Professor Snape was the same impatient, cold, and calculating man that he had known all his life.
Severus Snape could not possibly allow his menacing façade to fall by the wayside outside of those brief meetings, and he often chastised himself for letting it down even then. He had a reputation to maintain, and he knew he was setting himself up for trouble, exposing himself far more than he should ever dare.
He found himself sitting up at nights, thumbing through one of his many potion books, trying to find another elixir to share with the boy, wanting to keep his interest, needing his company. Severus, he thought to himself on one such night, you are becoming soft in your old age
Julius entered the Great Hall for breakfast on Saturday morning to find himself surrounded by a mass of blue and silver-clad girls cheering as they escorted him to the Ravenclaw table, obviously not willing to save their enthusiasm for the Quidditch pitch. The blue banners of The Banner Brigade (as now everyone was calling them, including themselves) flittered about merrily from scattered areas of the Hall. A few even fluttered from the Hufflepuff table, to the annoyance of their own house team's captain. They waited on Julius hand and foot, to the constant chuckles and quips of his team mates.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," cried Wendle Masters in a false announcers voice, holding a fork with a sausage patty speared to its end as a microphone, "I am here today with Mr. Julius DeVere of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team as he prepares for his Hogwarts-wide debut. Tell us, Mr. DeVere, what does it feel like to be worshipped as an idol?" Extending the fork over to Julius, Masters burst out laughing.
Julius reached out and grabbed the fork from Masters, flicking the sausage patty back at the boy, grinning, "Cut it out!"
Before long, it was time for the team to make its way to the locker room to change and go over their strategy one last time. The seven members of the team led the throng of fans down to the pitch before veering off towards the small building to ready themselves.
"Julius, wait up," Hermione called as she approached, and smiled as Julius turned and paused, waiting.
"Don't be too long, Casanova," Bradley, the Ravenclaw captain quipped before ducking into the doorway.
Julius stood there as she drew nearer, his dark eyes following the way her hair danced in the breeze. Hermione had this way about her, a remarkable confidence that people would see her for what she really was, as if she didn't realize she was pretty, and didn't really care either way. She was real, and that more than anything else was the quality that he found most attractive.
"I wanted to wish you luck before the game," she said, halting before him, "but I was afraid I'd be lost in the crowd back in the Hall." Reaching into her jacket, she pulled out a blue and silver banner with his name on it, and waved it, giggling with a smile.
He smiled warmly in return and shook his head slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. "I would find you in any crowd, 'Mione. You're the brightest star out there," he replied, blushing slightly. Taking a step towards the girl before him, his hands found hers and held them lightly. "Are you…"
"Come on, DeVere!" came Bradley's voice from the locker room door.
"I've got to go," Julius sighed, reluctantly releasing Hermione's hands and taking a step back towards the door. "Wish me luck."
"Good luck, Julius," she answered with a warm smile, her heart racing in her chest as she wondered what he had been about to ask.
The Quidditch stadium was filled nearly to bursting as students eagerly awaited the start of the first match of the season. One whole tower just to the right of the Ravenclaw hoops was crammed with girls waving sapphire blue banners with silver lettering, each wearing a matching jacket denoting them as The Banner Brigade. Hermione, Ron and Harry each rolled their eyes as they sat one tower away with a group of Gryffindor students.
"Maybe we should move," Ron suggested, looking over towards the zealous fans, not really in the mood to listen to a bunch of high-pitched screaming and cheering.
"Oh, Ron, lighten up," replied Hermione with a sigh. "You're just jealous because you don't have a fan club."
"Thanks," Ron answered, glaring with astonishment towards Hermione, quite affronted. Moving his gaze to Harry, he set his jaw meaningfully, and stood up to find another seat.
Harry groaned inwardly, and shook his head. "Ron, wait," he called, quickly rising as well to follow his friend.
He caught up with Ron in the stairwell as the red-headed boy descended towards another level. "Ron, she didn't mean it, really," Harry said, stepping speedily to block his friend's passage.
"Yeah? Well, I don't see her standing here, telling me that," Ron replied. "All she talks about nowadays is Julius this, and Julius that. " He stood there, shaking with anger. "Don't get me wrong, I like Julius, think he's a great chap, but come on Harry; she needs to give it a rest."
"Yeah, I know," Harry replied, as always, the one trying to keep the peace, stuck in the middle. Loud cheers suddenly roared from above, causing both Harry and Ron to glance upwards, the teams apparently taking the air. "Come on back and sit with us, the game is about to start," he pleaded.
A chorus of girlish acclamation sounded as the announcer called Julius's name, and Ron frowned, his feelings still obviously hurt. "No thanks, Harry. I'll catch you later." With one last glance towards the upper level, Ron Weasley continued his descent down the stairs.
It was a good game, the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff teams were well matched this year, leading to a tie at forty to forty at the end of two hours. Julius had scored last of the four goals himself, sending banners waving frantically, girls jumping, screaming in their seats.
"Quite a popular lad, isn't he, Severus?" Albus Dumbledore intoned towards the shadowy man seated beside him, continuing to watch one of the Hufflepuff chasers dart past their location.
"So it would seem, Headmaster," Snape replied stoically with a sidelong glance towards his superior, keeping his tone purposefully even with a bored quality. He had no intention of allowing the old man to know how interested he was in his son's game, let alone how proud he was of his achievements on and off the field.
"Must take after his mother," Albus continued, keeping his eyes straight ahead, pretending not to notice the turn of his associate's head in his direction, plastered with a scowl.
When Cho Chang of the Ravenclaw team caught the snitch an hour later, the score for the day amounted to 210 - 50, Ravenclaw, with Julius scoring three of the of the six goals. His team mates tousled his hair playfully as they each congratulated each other on their success, and one by one, the team was carried high upon the shoulders of their housemates towards the common room for a celebration.
Harry and Hermione made their way down the stairs, thinking they would find Ron seated somewhere on the next level down, but he was no where to be found. Hermione felt terrible after Harry told her about how she made Ron feel, and she searched each level chewing lightly on her lower lip, hoping to find him to apologise.
It wasn't until much later, when the sky began to darken that Ron finally entered the Gryffindor common room. Hermione had been waiting, sitting quietly in one of the leather armchairs, hoping he would show up soon. When he entered, she ran up and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.
"I am so sorry, Ron," she sniffled.
"Me too, Hermione," Ron replied, hesitantly placing his arms about her waist. "I just… I dunno."
"You know you don't need a fan club," she replied, "I'll always be your number one fan."
"Thanks," he said quietly, and offered her a smile, glad that they had made up.
"And I wont keep going on about Julius anymore, I promise," she added.
"It's ok, Hermione…" Ron answered, giving her a final squeeze, "Just make sure he knows he better treat you well, or he's gonna have me to answer to."