Complexity
By ChocolateEclar
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or places, although I do own this story and some elements of the characterizations of Al Potter, his siblings and their cousins, Ben, Abigail, and Dittany.
A/N: Thanks again to everyone who reviewed. I'm really glad people like Lily.
Chapter Six: Humanity
Four days after Lily Potter makes a visit to the portraits, McGonagall steps into the office from the fireplace. James Potter is not far behind. He hops out, rubbing soot off of his face with one of the sleeves of his black robe. There is a crackle of green flames and then another boy stumbles out. James catches him and wraps the boy's arm around his shoulder to support him until he can set the boy down in one of the chairs in front of McGonagall's desk.
Al Potter is deathly pale and his green-eyed gaze is a little unfocused, as he stares at his surroundings. Snape recognizes the trace ring of blue around his eyes, which means the boy is taking the Constitution Elixir to boost his health. The scrofungulus has caused bloody blisters on his skin. The ones that have popped are wrapped with salve and bandages, while the ones that hadn't have faded to little scar-like reddish spots on his skin. The hair he had charmed blond two weeks before in some sort of act of rebellion is now black at the roots and a strange, faded yellow everywhere else.
The portraits chatter anxiously, until finally one of them addresses McGonagall. "Is the boy quite ready to be back from St. Mungo's, Minerva?" It is Dilys Derwent. She had informed the rest of the portraits of the boy's impending return when she had returned from her St. Mungo's portrait.
"The blisters are gone and he won't be returning to class for several days," replies McGonagall, as she scribbles something on a piece of paper on her desk. "And he insisted on returning."
"I'm not contagious," mutters Al. He eyes his right arm, which is the most bandaged part of him, with a grimace.
"I would have had you go straight to the fire in your common room and up to bed, Mr. Potter, but I want to be sure you are quite clear on what you are not to do for the next few days."
"The healers told him – " begins James, as he stands behind his little brother's chair with his arms folded. He is the image of brotherly concern, something that only-child Snape does not quite understand. However, he can combine the boys with the image of Lily standing over her baby, trying to protect Harry from Voldemort. It helps that Al's eyes are almost glassy green that day. It makes them shine more in the firelight.
"And I know you boys like to run around regularly," states McGonagall firmly. "Let me make myself clear. You will not leave your bed, save for meals and medicine, or you will find yourself strapped to a bed in the hospital wing like Madam Pomfrey wants you to be. Also, you are not to leave the castle. We do not need to find you sprawled out on the lawn by the lake again talking to the Giant Squid like it's your mother."
"Yes, professor," Al whispers. His eyes are sharper now, perhaps because of the mention of the hallucinations he fought. He glances back and meets James' gaze. The older boy smiles reassuringly.
"The healers gave you some Blood-Replenishing Potion, but you will need to see Madam Pomfrey for more every six hours," McGonagall continues.
"I'll make sure he does," says James. Despite the hair, he looks nothing like his namesake to Snape. Instead, James looks like a Weasley with his face as freckly as the clan, but without the trademark hair.
"Excellent," says McGonagall. "Now, do you want to take the Floo Network to your common room, Mr. Potter?"
Al grips the chair tightly and says, "I think I might be sick if we do, professor. Walking sounds good."
"I'll take him," James insists.
"Very well," McGonagall says. "I need to write a letter, so I trust that you two can reach the common room by yourselves."
"Yes, professor," both boys reply.
Carefully, Al stands up and allows his brother to wrap his arm around the taller boy's shoulder for support. It bothers his blisters a little, but the salve is soothing as well as partially numbing, so the pain subsides.
"When will the other student return, Minerva?" asks Armando Dippet after the boys have left.
"Miss Creevey?" McGonagall says, as she dips her quill in emerald green ink. "She was farther along in the sickness than Mr. Potter. Her hallucinations were so minor that even she didn't really notice anything off with herself. However, the healers insist on her staying at St. Mungo's for another week."
"But the boy wanted to look like a martyr and come home to Hogwarts, eh?" Phineas Nigellus hisses, sneering.
"I'm sure he would rather be away from the entire Weasley and Potter clans mollycoddling him incessantly at his bedside, Phineas," Snape says dryly.
There is a silence among the portraits. Even McGonagall's quill stops moving across the parchment, as she turns around to look at Snape with both eyebrows raised.
"You just defended a Potter being accused of grabbing at fame," McGonagall says slowly.
Snape does not say anything right away. His face is fairly blank, but there is some surprise in the curve of his mouth. "If you choose to look at it that way," he finally states.
"How would you choose to look at it, Severus?" Dumbledore queries, as he opens up his bag of never-ending sherbet lemons and pops one into his mouth.
"Yes, do tell," mutters McGonagall with a small smirk.
"I would say that that kind of fame is not worth being with those such as Molly Weasley and her relentless coddling, indulging, spoiling ways," Snape replies.
"Of course," McGonagall grumbles.
There is a long silence, in which several portraits give Snape disbelieving stares. Finally, Dumbledore breaks it and asks, "Sherbet lemon, Severus?" Snape shakes his head and turns away from all of the wide, curious eyes before he is tempted to poison his fellow portraits.
A/N: Al should be better soon enough. Perhaps next chapter we'll find out more about Al's temporarily blond hair. :) Oh, and please review. Thanks again!