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: In which, well, Al becomes a man, albeit a bit of a reckless one… Okay, more than 'a bit,' but hey, it runs in the family. :) And I'm fairly certain that this chapter is considerably more serious than any of the others. (In other words, Al learns a lesson the hard way.)
Chapter Twelve: Propensity (for danger)
Twenty-five year old Professor Albus Severus Potter appears in the office on a freezing cold day around dusk. It is early January, and he is wearing a red and gold scarf wrapped around his face all the way up to his too green eyes. The rest of his head is topped with a black cap and when he removes his snowy cloak and robes, he is wearing two Weasley jumpers on underneath. The top one has a golden lion's head on scarlet, while the bottom one is green with 'AL' written across the chest.
He looks, Snape notes, nothing more than like a Weasley in that moment. Especially considering all of his hair is hidden so it is difficult to tell if it is red or not.
"Where's the headmistress?" croaks Al.
"Professor McGonagall went into Hogsmeade a few hours ago," replies Dumbledore.
"Bugger, I missed her," grumbles Al. "I suppose I'll just wait here then."
"Where have you been off to, my dear?" says Dilys Derwent, as Al strips off some of the extra layers.
"North Pole, it feels like," Al sighs.
"Your father always gives you the worst Order jobs," Phineas Nigellus says smugly. With his place hanging in the living room now, it is fairly easy for him to hear most of the happenings at the Order meetings at Grimmauld Place.
"It's his way of caring about my ego, I suppose," Al replies, as he tosses his now dripping wet cloak over the back of a chair by the fireplace as the snow and ice hanging off of it melts.
"Where were you really?" asks Dippet.
"London actually," groans Al, while plopping down in front of the fire. "Worst snow we've had in twenty years or something. Trying to catch a bleeding needle in it is a bear. Excuse me for a second." He clears his throat and shouts, "Winky!"
"Yes, Mr. Potter, sir," greets the house-elf upon appearing.
Al smiles and says kindly, "Would you mind bringing me some butterbeer, Winky?" Winky gushes about it being her pleasure and then returns a moment later with a tray stacked with bottles and mugs. (Al, perhaps having taken the story of Dobby and how he helped Winky to heart before dying for his father, seems to have made it his goal to discreetly look after Barty Crouch's former house-elf. Most of the time, this involves visiting the kitchens during the day when he feels up for a snack between his Transfiguration lessons.)
Al thanks her and pours himself a glass. As he downs his first mug, Snape can see the steam coming off of his magically drying hair as the warm liquid flows through him.
"That does the trick," Al says with amusement. "I was too cold to pull out my wand for a proper warming spell."
Snape finds that comment does not quite ring true. Al has not taken his gloves off, so it is difficult to see if anything is wrong with the young man's wand hand. However, there is something distinctly off about him. "You are not the type to go for Auror jobs, Potter," he remarks.
"You're right," Al admits. "But I'm not that terrible at it."
There is a moment when Snape believes that perhaps Al is really as carefree as he seems, but then there is a split second of rising horror on Al's face before he covers it with a newly-filled mug.
"Who was the Dark Wizard you went after, Potter?" Snape asks smoothly.
Al chokes on his drink. When he recovers, he frowns up at the Potions Master and sighs, "Ever observant."
He pauses to take another gulp of his drink. Only then does he say, "My father doesn't know yet, but James was hurt the night before last in London by someone not a Dark Wizard, but just as dangerous. He's been at large for the last thirty-some years after fleeing to Russia. He's only just returned and attacked a boy in Bristol."
"Fenrir Greyback," Snape states.
"How could no one catch that monster?" hisses the severe witch in the purple robes.
"Dad's been wanting to rush after him for years," explains Al, "and when Teddy graduated it became his personal mission to catch Greyback once he joined the Aurors." He sighs and adds, "However, Greyback changed many children in Russia and groomed them as his own for once. It was a smart thing to do, but when the Russian equivalent of Aurors infiltrated their location, Greyback crawled back here." His voice is hollow and dull like he is reading from a script. Snape suspects that he has read the file on Greyback so many times in the last two days that he has memorized it.
"What happened to the boy and James, Albus?" asks Dumbledore softly.
"The boy is now a werewolf, it seems," says Al slowly. "He is recuperating from his wounds and then he'll have to deal with it for the rest of his life, I suppose. James is badly scratched across his shoulder and he – " Al licks his lips and swallows loudly. "He lost a half a finger. He's in St. Mungo's right now, but no one's told Dad yet, as far as I know."
"You, untrained as an Auror and as a spy, went out after the most feared of lupine creatures," Snape states.
"How am I still alive?" Al mutters mournfully.
"Did you even run into Greyback?" asks Dilys Derwent, as she eyes him critically for injuries. For the first time, the portraits notice the two thin slashes across Al's throat just under the collar of the white button-down shirt underneath his 'AL' sweater. They are oozing a little, but no blood comes forth.
Al smiles ruefully and clutches the rug under his feet. "Oh, I certainly did. That's why I need to report back to the headmistress, as she's the head of the Order."
Snape scowls and says, "You are a fool, Potter. You should have sent a Patronus then. You've escaped from St. Mungo's, I suppose."
"I figured Madam Pomfrey would be just as capable to keep up my treatment," Al admits. "Besides, I can't do much with this hand right now." He strips off his gloves – first his left and then his right. After that, he removes the gauze wrapped around his wand hand until it is apparent that there are four terrible slashes, deeper than at his throat, across his palm. The wounds are flaps of skin that prevent his hand from moving from the pain.
"You are even more of a fool than I thought," Snape notes. "And you are avoiding your father," he adds pointedly. There is a figure in the doorway, but Al does not see the shadow across the floor nor hear the door opening.
Al grimaces. "I just wanted to wait for him to cool down a little more before he lectured me. I figured the storm might deter him."
"And you would be wrong," says the figure behind Al. The young man is so surprised that he almost launches himself into the fire. He shows the distinct characteristic of a fresh, new Auror with shot nerves, despite not being an official Auror.
"Dad," squeaks Al.
"When I showed up at your house," Harry Potter explains, as he slips off his heavy traveler's cloak and stops leaning against the doorjamb to come into the office, "your fiancée pointed out that she had sent an owl to your grandmother to see where your hand on the Weasley clock said you were."
"Ditty is clever like that," Al remarks. "Where exactly did it point at though? Technically, I'm at work and school."
"Your grandmother said it was pointing to both, interestingly enough," Harry replies. "Your hand splits."
"Well, that's clever," Al mutters, as he refuses to meet his father's eyes. "It wasn't at mortal danger at least."
"Right," admits Harry. There is a thick silence as Al rewraps his hand before his father can see the extent of the damage.
"So," Harry says slowly, as he walks around the office, "after eluding us for so many years, Fenrir Greyback is caught by the Hogwarts Transfiguration teacher boosted by rage and luck and a healthy knowledge of dueling spells."
"I did learn from the best," Al whispers at the floor.
"I can't take all of the credit, Al, so you can't use that in your favor," Harry says with a laugh.
"It was worth a shot."
"Now, why didn't you tell me so I could send in a team of Aurors? I didn't even know my oldest son had almost been killed by a werewolf, Al."
Al says nothing for a long time, so the only sounds in the room are those coming from the crackling fire and the icy wind smashing into the windows. "I guess I just wanted to see what it's like," Al quietly admits.
"And was it everything you'd hoped?" Harry asks wearily.
"No, no," Al hisses in despair. "I didn't want that. I was just being a stupid little boy thinking that I could avenge my big brother. I found the files in James' room and I had to follow all of his leads." He shudders and continues, "Greyback only grazed my neck, but I thought he was about to chop off my head. And then I tried to hex him but he slashed my wand hand and my wand went flying. I thought it'd broke."
(Snape wonders how Al even survived and how, in Merlin's name, he could be unbitten since he did survive. There is, he knows, more than one way in which a person can die though – physically, psychologically, spiritually…)
"Even though the bulk of it happened before you were born, the war is not over, Al," Harry points out. "None of us can stop it alone."
"I understand," Al whispers. He finally looks up at his father and bites his lip painfully when he sees the caring and worry in the older face. He stands up and hugs Harry. "I'm sorry," he mumbles into his dad's shirt.
Harry releases him and smiles. "You can be a little proud of yourself, Al. You incapacitated a werewolf by yourself. Half of the people in the Auror Department under me would be dead if they faced one by themselves. Teddy was speechless."
"People do mad things in desperate times," Al mutters.
"You should have Madam Pomfrey look at your neck and hand," Harry notes. "Your scars are probably frostbitten."
"I told James I was going at least," Al grumbles.
"He told me," says Harry with a smile. They speak to each other softly for a while. Snape loses focus on the conversation and just watches the father and son who look so much alike. Al does not wear glasses, but the rings around his eyes are so dark that they almost give the illusion. They sit next to each other on the floor by the fire sipping butterbeer until McGonagall shows up and shakes her head at Al.
"Albus," she sighs. "I had hoped at least half of the rumors weren't true. I went straight to the Hospital Wing when I heard you had left St. Mungo's. Madam Pomfrey is angrily waiting for you."
Al smiles sheepishly and says, "I'll be off then before she uses a Summoning Charm on me."
"I believe Neville and Miss Longbottom are waiting there for you too," McGonagall adds, as she sits at her desk.
Al visibly flinches at her words as he stands up. "Oh," he mutters.
"I will see you at the Burrow in five hours or less, Al," Harry insists without looking over his shoulder at his son's retreating form.
"So Gram can skin me alive?" Al mutters.
"I believe Teddy and Victoire may have some words for you as well," Harry admits.
"Ye gads," grumbles the young man before vanishing through the door.
After a moment, the portraits' voices ring out. "How did he survive?" gasps Dilys Derwent over the top of the rest, voicing Snape's very thoughts.
"He told James that he had a vial of Confusing Concoction in his pocket that he nicked from James' room," says Harry, as he stands up from his spot by the fire to sit on a chair in front of McGonagall's desk. "He threw it at Greyback after his hand was slashed, which gave him just enough time to grab his wand and Full Body-Bind him. I'm not sure about the rest."
(It all makes Snape think about the second Lily Potter, who has grown up to be a sort of a Potions Master – she had proclaimed herself not a Mistress or Madam – at the Ministry. He decides he will not be all that surprised if she discovers a cure for Lycanthropy.)
Al returns about twenty minutes later, as Harry and McGonagall are debriefing, with his hand and neck wounds smelling fragrant and flowery from some dittany and the undercurrent of a foul scent that Snape recognizes as chickweed. In his last thirty or so years as a portrait, he has never figured out how some canvas and paint can smell, but he does not question it.
Al looks noticeably better, although he ignores Harry when he tries to bring up the subject of Neville and Dittany Longbottom. Instead, he tosses a pinch of powder from the jar on the mantel and then says he might as well get it over with at the Burrow. In a flash of green flame, he vanishes.
"I had better go too," Harry says. "Teddy was actually ready to chew his ear off for taking that risk."
"Will James be there? I would like to talk to him," McGonagall states.
"Unfortunately, they were trying a new regenerative potion on his finger," Harry answers with a grimace. "We found out that he's allergic to boiled Antarctic icefish scales."
Snape raises his eyebrows a little. He really wishes he could be alive just to see the innovations in potions.
After a moment, Al reappears in the fire coughing. "I changed my mind," he announces. "You first, Dad."
"I can't protect you from your grandmother."
"Well, at least protect me from Aunt Fleur and Victoire," whines Al, as he rubs at his head. "After they hugged me, they were screaming at me in French. I can't even use my wand right now."
Harry pats him on the back and says to McGonagall, "I'll let you know when James gets out of St. Mungo's, professor."
"And, no fear, I'll be back for the start of term," Al says with a polite nod. The, the two Potters leave the office through the Floo Network.
Snape thinks about the look of horror that had passed over Al's face when he was sitting on the floor drinking butterbeer even long after the room is nearly silent again. The only sounds come from the scratching of McGonagall's quill across parchment and quiet whispers between portraits.
A/N: No, this isn't the end. Al still has a few adventures left and not all of them are adult ones. He also may have to deal with some of the issues he's facing after having gone on his own full-fledged 'battle' for the first time and against a werewolf like Fenrir Greyback at that.
A/N 2: Yes, James is married by the time this chapter takes place. No, it isn't any character we've met because, frankly, not everyone marries someone they met in school (despite the fact that almost everyone in canon seems to, aside from Lupin and Tonks…). I have a chapter in the works for Al and Dittany in the office after they've married, but we'll see if I post that next or not. :) I'm thinking that one might end up being the last chapter whenever I feel like this story is over because it brings everything full circle.
Thanks for reading. Please review.