Disclaimer: The characters in this story (except Julius) and the universe in which they exist is the sole property of JK Rowling. I am just doing this for fun.

Chapter 15 - Christmas Cheer

The Christmas holidays had arrived, and students milled about the Great Hall, awaiting their departure. The first real snowfall of winter drifted lazily downward from the enchanted ceiling, the snowflakes vanishing just before hitting the heads of the young witches and wizards. All around, students chattered excitedly about their plans for the winter break, giving each other hugs and well wishes for the New Year as a lone figure sat quietly at the Ravenclaw table.

Julius had propped his elbow upon the table, resting his head on his open hand as he attempted to drown out the happiness surrounding him by focusing on his transfiguration textbook, absently flipping through the pages. It wasn't working, and the dark-haired boy found his heart aching, feeling more homesick than he had felt yet this year. He missed his mother greatly. She had always been there for him, and was the only family he had ever known.

Professor Dumbledore had yet to locate any other living family member, and he was going to be spending Christmas at the school. Harry and Ron were off to The Burrow (at least, that is what they told him), and Hermione was going skiing with her parents. Julius felt left out and alone. Giving up on his studying ruse, he clapped his book shut and stood to make his way back to the tower.

"Julius!" Hermione exclaimed, heading in the Ravenclaw's direction, followed closely by Harry and Ron. Standing before him with her bags packed, she offered a truly sympathetic look. "I just wanted to wish you a Happy Christmas."

"Yeah, its going to be a real happy one, I'm sure," he muttered in reply, his eyes upon his hands as he glanced at his fingernails.

"Sorry your stuck here, mate," Ron added considerately, "I know it blows, but it could be worse."

"You could be stuck with my aunt and uncle," Harry chimed with a grimace. "Glad I don't have to see them 'til summer."

"Yeah, but at least you have someone, Harry," Julius sighed. "I think right about now, I would take even the Dursleys."

"You say that now," Harry replied, slinging a pack across his shoulder.

Hermione wrapped her arms tightly about Julius's neck, squeezing him softly. "I'm going to miss you," she whispered, and smiled as she felt Julius return the hug.

"Yeah, me too," he whispered back, reluctantly letting go. Offering a brave smile, Julius continued, "You guys better get going. You're going to miss the train."

Julius watched the three Gryffindors make their way out the door to the main hall, Hermione glancing back one last time before she disappeared from view. The clamouring of students gradually faded, and he stepped out into the now empty, echoing hall towards Ravenclaw tower.

Christmas morning dawned with puffy snow-filled clouds filtering what little light would pass through them, giving the air a mysterious, expectant feel. The snow had continued through the night so that the manicured bushes scattered about the grounds resembled a portly snowman army.

Julius stretched lazily, blinking as he slowly awakened, and pushed back the warm coverlet, swinging his legs over the sides of the poster bed. Lifting his right hand, he combed his fingers through the black dishevelled locks of his hair, scratching his scalp, willing the slumber to leave his eyes, and waited for the world to come into focus. The room about him was empty, too neat and seemed unnaturally still after so many mornings waking up with the other boys, preparing for classes. It only served to remind him of his present solitary state, and he slowly stood to make his way down to the common room below.

The house-elves had apparently decorated the room overnight, as there were red and green ribbons tied about nearly everything. A wreath of fragrant pine was hung over the mantle, encircling the stately portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw. A small tree was decorated with a hundred glimmering balls that seemed to be coated with real pixie dust, and plethora of fairy lights flickered mirthfully, darting about the evergreen boughs.

There were several presents underneath the branches, and Julius smiled, knowing that at least he had not been totally forgotten. As he sat down before them, though, he wished he had someone at least to share this moment with. It just wasn't the same, opening presents by yourself.

Hermione had gotten him a lesson planner to assist in preparing for their tutoring sessions and a book, The Joye of Potion Brewing, vol. 1. Harry had given him a pair of tight fitting Quidditch gloves to keep his hands from getting blisters from his broom and a book on famous Quidditch maneuvers. Ron bought him a large box of Bertie Botts Every-flavor Beans.

His brow furrowed slightly, however, as his eyes fell upon the last long and thin package, wondering who it would be from. It was wrapped in plain brown paper held with string, a small card attached to the one end. His agile fingers carefully pulled the card from the wrappings, opening it and reading the typed wording curiously:

You have earned this.

Julius's dark brows furrowed further at the short, unsigned note, his lightless eyes glancing cautiously at the package, wondering if it was some joke from Malfoy. He nudged it lightly, seeing what would happen when he touched it, but it just remained where it was, inanimate. Curiosity getting the better of him, he carefully untied the string and ripped the paper away, his eyes widening at what he held within his hands: a new broomstick, a Nimbus 2005.

He was floored. Quickly he scrambled to his feet, picking up the broom and testing its balance in his hands. It was magnificent, but who had sent it to him?

Without another thought about it for the time being, he raced up the stairs to change, taking the broomstick with him, unable to let it out of his sight. In mere minutes he was dressed, covered from head to toe, ready to brave the wind and snow outdoors, and trudging through the dense layer of frozen whiteness towards the Quidditch pitch.

Severus Snape stood silently, his dark eyes gazing towards the distant stadium from the height of the Astronomy Tower, the wind whipping his black cloak around his tall form as he watched the lone boy gliding through the air between the two sets of hoops. Snow fell lightly upon the inky strands of his hair and the shoulders of his cloak, but the potions master seemed not to notice. He watched for approximately a half hour before with a smile, perhaps the first one in years to graced his lips, he turned, making his way back inside.

A/N:

tap………..tap…………tap…………tap

The tall black-clad figure of a man stands in the centre of the page, glaring upwards at a certain reviewer with stormy eyes, his arms folded before him as he frowns deeply. His left foot is tapping impatiently on the floor in the midst of a dozen bunnies congregating about him, sniffing at his robes. Flower petals fall lightly from out of nowhere, landing gently upon his shoulders and littering the greasy black locks that hang limply from his scalp. He has the countenance of one who is highly annoyed, his brows knitted together in extreme displeasure. Expelling air in a sharp burst, he causes his bangs to fly up slightly, knocking some of the offending material from his hair.

"Will someone please tell me the meaning of this," he mutters darkly, reaching down and picking up one of the rabbits by the ears and holding it out for everyone to see. "Think its funny, do you? Do you have any idea of how difficult it is to work for this woman?" he asks, pointing with his spare hand towards the author. "As it is, I get absolutely no respect as she parades my emotions in front of the whole world despite my protest. 'But what is the darkness without the light?'", he mutters with a sarcastic sing-song voice, a sneer spreading along his lips, "like I would ever say such a thing. What the hell do I care about the moon or anything else for that matter. I would truly appreciate it if you would not encourage her further." Cursing softly, brushing the flower petals from his shoulders he continues testily, "Next thing you know she will have bluebirds alighting on my fingers and playing with the hem of my robes, singing, while she forces me to perform a sickening-sweet Disney-esque ala Mary Poppins song and dance." Damn Muggles and their bloody sense of humour.

"Apparo!"

Poof!

I know it's a short update, but I haven't posted in a few days and wanted to get something out there. Thank you so much for the well wishes, I am feeling 95% better. You guys are miracle workers, really!

J