Infinity Times Infinity

“Owl’s here!” You shouted as the dark-colored owl swooped into the kitchen counter. In its beak were two equally colored parcels, stamped with the same fancy seal Hogwarts used. You fed the owl a few treats and scratched the spot just above his beak. “Thank you, Spidge.” 

“School supply list?” He shouted from outside.

“Yeah… oh, and there’s a letter for you!” You looked at the envelope with your dad’s name on it. Your eyes were locked on it, scanning the tanned paper to see if it would lead to any clues to what it pertained. Without paying attention to your surroundings, you walked your way around to where your dad was, Ahira slithering at your heels.

Once you were standing outside on the porch, Remus looked up from the patch of dirt he was tending with a questioning look on his face. “A letter for me?”

You gave a short nod. “From Hogwarts.”

“I haven’t kept up with any of my old professors in a while. Wonder who it could be,” he said, wiping the dirt off of his hands on the sides of his trousers. 

You just shrugged your shoulders, no idea who it could be from either. “Guess there’s only one way to know.” You nudged the envelope closer to him. 

He took the envelope from your hand, looked it over, then paid it no mind. “I’ll read it later, first I need to make us some breakfast.”

It was about eleven in the morning, the two of you had a day in and didn’t wake up at your usual time. It was a Saturday, perfectly acceptable to sleep in a few extra hours. You puffed out your cheeks in annoyance, curious to know what was inside the letter written for your dad. He chuckled at your expression as he met you on the porch and ruffled your hair. 

-----

A package arrived later that day. The sender’s address was scribbled messily while yours was written neatly. The twins had written either part respectively and sent the neatly packaged box from Egypt. As you opened the box, a faucet of sand began to pour out. 

Typical. 

You shook out the last of its contents and pulled out the letter wedged inside. Both Fred and George’s handwriting shared the allotted paper.

To our dearest Y/N,

Hope you liked the sand, it was all George’s idea (was not).  Anyway, hope your summer’s going well. It’s boiling here in Egypt, thankfully Bill knows of a temperature charm to keep the lodging nice and cool. I will never complain about the heat up in the UK ever again (yeah, right).

Something fun — Bill’s shown us the cursed muggle carcasses in the hidden tombs. They’ve got several heads and limbs all because of ancient wizarding curses — wicked, right? Mum didn’t let Ginny see them though, thought it’d give her a fright. 

Really wish you were here. The tour guide seems like an absolute rash. You probably could’ve told us much more about the symbols written on the walls and what they meant — would’ve made it more interesting at least. 

We’ll be back the week before term starts to buy our school supplies at Diagon Alley, hopefully, you’ll join us there?

Yours foolishly,

Fred and George 

P.S. There are a few presents hidden in the sand there. You’ll just have to dig them out of the sand like a paleontologist, or was it an archeologist? Well, whatever they’re called. 

P.P.S Sorry we couldn’t send you a mummy’s hand, Mum wouldn’t allow it, but Charlie would have.

You laughed at their silliness and began pushing the sand around to look for the so-called presents the twins sent you. The first you found was a palm-sized onyx pyramid with golden hieroglyphic inscriptions. Some of the drawings inscribed danced around the walls of the pyramid but tired soon after you noticed them. You placed the pyramid on your desk and dug around for the next thing you could find.

The next item you found was a small jewelry box that was charmed with an extension charm. You didn’t question how the boys got their hands on it. Egyptian law must not be as restrictive as that in the UK, you thought. You stook your hand in, waved it around, then placed it down next to the pyramid when you were done with that. 

A few moments later, after surfing through the rest of the sand, your fingers grazed a soft material… a couple of soft materials. Two pairs of slim leather slippers came out from the sand pile; one larger than the other. Must be for your dad. They were both neutral in tone and had unmoving patterns etched on their surface. Regardless, they were beautifully crafted. Maybe the gifts made up the disastrous pile of sand at your feet… on second thought, maybe not. 

The slippers were the last of it. Now you were left with sand on your bedroom floor. You’re going to curse the boys the next time you see them, you made sure of it. 

A soft knock at your bedroom door interrupted your (vengeful) thoughts.  “Didn’t know we were having a beach party today,” said a voice from outside your room. “Dinner at the beach then?”

You gave a soft chuckle. “The twins sent me something from Egypt. Quite a few things actually,” you said as you picked up the larger pair of leather slippers and held them out for him to grab. “They got something for you too. Hope you don’t mind the sand.” 

His eyes sparkled childishly at the gift. “Oh, these are wonderful,” he said as he traced the carvings on the leather. “Tell the boys thank you. Oh, and I need you downstairs to help me with dinner.”

“Ooh,” you said, patting the sand off of your pants. “What are we whipping up today?”

-----

It was later in the evening, the sun had set an hour ago and your curiosity was running wild. Your dad had yet to open the letter and patience was running thin. You ran into the living room, throwing yourself onto the couch where he was currently residing, and hugged him from behind. This made him yelp as your body collided with his back. 

“You’re not as small as you used to be, Y/N,” he groaned in pain but chuckled lightly. “You’re growing too much. Merlin, give me my baby back.”

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders. It was your attempt at a hug, or whatever it was from the angle in which he sat on the sofa. “Hey! Well, sucks for you, you’re stuck with me now.” 

He sighed softly. “Impatiently patient. Just like your mother.”

You squeezed a little tighter and tried to not let the sadness in your voice show. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s true.” There was something beautifully pained in the short chuckle he gave. 

He never spoke much of your mom, but always reminded you of the things she would do when you reminded him of her. There were enough details that he told you for you to paint a picture of her in your head, albeit you didn’t really need it. Somewhere in the library, hung a painting of your mother above the mantel. Her painting, however, wasn’t a typical magical painting, it was muggle-like. It didn’t move nor did it speak, yet it encapsulated her perfectly. It wasn’t much, but there she stood with them. They looked classy and prideful: their postures were near perfect and they held a sense of power. You never got a whiff of arrogance from them, however. They were humble and always welcomed you and your dad whenever you visited the library. 

And no offense to your dad, but you wondered how your mom decided to fair with him, they were from two very different worlds. You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. Money doesn’t matter much if two people truly love each other, and the way your dad spoke of your mother… well there wasn’t much to discount about that. 

Your attention fell onto something your dad was twirling in his hands. The Hogwarts letter addressed to him remained unopened. “Oh, are you finally gonna open it?” 

Your face grew bright as you saw him turn the envelope addressed to him. The slightly yellowed paper crinkled at his touch as he looked it over. Almost instantly, his demeanor changed. His back grew rigid and his shoulders squared causing you to let go of them ungracefully. He read the address again and then opened it. You could hear his breath hitch as you walked around him, and plopped down on the loveseat a few feet away from where he sat. You caught a few words from under his mumbled breath. 

We offer you… Professor…

More mumbling.

Teach Defense Against the Dark…

His voice trailed off as his eyes darted across the paper. Once, twice, okay now that’s a lot. Why was he reading it over so many times?

“Dad?” You asked as you shift in your seat. “What is it?”

He glanced at you for a second before turning back to the sheet he was clenching. 

You saw him take in a deep breath before proceeding to read off what was written on the letter. 

“Dear Mr. Remus J. Lupin, 

I write on behalf of myself and the teaching staff here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to offer a position as the teaching professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts. We are eager to await your response to the position offered. Do respond before the date provided and assist your daughter with her supplies. If accepted, the first of your salary will be spent to aid with materials and a discussion about helping you with your condition would be ensued. 

Kind regards, 

Albus Dumbledore. Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

 He looked up from his letter only to be met with your bright (e/c) eyes staring back at him. The blanket that draped over him slid down a mere few inches before he pulled it back up and over his shoulders. You tore your eyes off of him only to look at the envelope in your hands. 

You looked back up when you heard his footsteps pace over the wooden floorboards of the living room. He was deep in thought, throwing his head back every other couple of seconds as he seemed to go back and forth between thoughts. You had enough when it had already been five minutes of nonstop pacing. 

“So, are you going to accept?”

His head snapped towards your direction, seemingly as if he had forgotten that you were in the same room with him. 

“I — I don’t know.”

“Dad, I’m not so sure why you’re still so reluctant. This is going to be the most stable position you’ve had in months. Like c’mon look at that!” You said, pointing at the letter still tightly held in his hand. “The headmaster is aware of your… condition… That means he must have some safety measures if he isn’t worried about it; if he’s offering you the position!”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But what if — you know what? You might be right…” 

You huffed triumphantly, a smirk playing at your lips. Sometimes all it took was for him to hear the other side of an argument to hear reason. 

“Plus, they have a potions teacher,” he mumbled to himself. “If Dumbledore is able to provide an endless supply of Wolfsbane Potion, then I shall accept this proposal.”

He trodded over to the desk situated in the corner of the living room and began scribbling on a piece of parchment. In a few minutes, he lifted the letter up, read it over, then read it to you and asked for your opinion.

“Sounds good, you should mail it.”

He rolled up the parchment and sealed it. “Where’s Spidge?” 

You shrugged. “Probably outside hunting.”

Remus stood next to the window and whistled. A few seconds later, a dark brown owl swooped in and landed on his arm. “Take this to Dumbledore, Hogwarts,” he muttered softly as he tied the letter onto Spidge’s outstretched leg. 

The owl hooted, nibbled his finger lovingly, then flew back out the window. You twirled and jumped in excitement at the realization that your dad would finally have a proper job. It’s been a few months since the last? You couldn’t remember. Job loss after job loss… It was a never-ending cycle. 

“C’mon!” You grabbed his wrists and dragged him towards the kitchen. “We need to celebrate! Let’s bake something sweet.”

Remus couldn’t help but smile more as you dragged him away, your voice rattled with excitement and joy. “I hope this works out.”

“Things always do in the end.” You smiled as you pulled out a recipe book from the small nook. “They always do.”