Infinity Times Infinity

“We’re not playing Slytherin!” The Gryffindor Captain grunted as he furiously walked into their tent. “Flint said one of his players is injured. He’s refusing to play without them.“

“But there’s nothing wrong with Malfoy’s arm,” shouted Harry. “He’s faking it!”  

This quip caused everyone on the Gryffindor team to groan. They had had it with the Slytherin’s off-putting dramatics ever since the accident. At this point, it was getting ridiculous. But just before anyone else could complain, Oliver raised a placating hand, much to his own displeasure. 

“As much as we’d like to blame the boy, it’s not because of Malfoy,” he explained, his voice sounding annoyed but not surprisingly harsh. “Their beater’s in the hospital wing with something. Said it’d take them another day or two before they recover… and it was McGonagall’s idea to change teams before you lot decide to riot.”

That was still not enough to calm his team down, but it did cause concern to stir. 

Both twins immediately stopped what they were doing and looked at Oliver. Had they heard it right? 

“Wait — you said their beater?” 

Oliver nodded. “Pretty debilitating.”

The two looked at each other, a sense of unease and worry settled on their features. 

– – – – – 

The infirmary was quiet except for the quiet snores coming from your dad’s bed. It had been a rough full moon for both of you last night. Typically, you’d be able to quickly bounce back from a transformation like last night’s, but you hadn’t. It was random, or perhaps it wasn’t, but some transformations were worse than others. 

Madam Pomfrey was working rather diligently on both of your recoveries. Every time she tried to help you, you were quick to motion her over to your father first who had gone through worse. It wasn’t until the third time you redirected her to your dad that she sighed and placed the tray of potions on your bedside. She was watching you carefully; annoyed of your antics and finally fed up. 

“You are a patient too, Miss Lupin. Do not forget that.” 

You didn’t say anything after that and instead accepted defeat. Her eyes flickered up to watch you carefully before she wrapped a fresh bandage around your arm. Once she made sure your wraps were comfortably adjusted and you had consumed all of your necessary potions, she talked again. 

“It’s terrible that you couldn’t play your first game of the season, dear,” she said with a soft smile, placing the bandage roll down on the tray. “But you’ll be able to play the next. Have hope.” 

You returned a rather empty smile, seeing as you didn’t have an appropriate response. She walked over to where your dad lay and checked his vitals for a final time before closing his curtains. He had been out for a majority of the day after his transformation and Poppy had found it a bit concerning. Thinking it best if you slept some more, you laid back onto the countless pillows you were magicked and closed your eyes for a short rest…

That was the plan — if two redheads hadn’t immediately burst in at that exact moment. 

You were about to close the curtains, but failed to as a numbing pain shot through your arm. Crap, you didn’t want them to see you like this. 

You stared at them with wide eyes, quickly drawing the sheets closer to you. “What are you two doing here?”

Their quidditch robes were muddied. Almost every inch of them was. The weather had been sporadic the past few weeks. Rain of all kinds had become quite common the past week causing the quidditch pitch to become a sea of mud. Even Flint was quick to suggest postponing their practice and their first match to a later date, but you brought up all-weather training to help boost adaptability. He agreed after some convincing. 

Now you saw why he didn’t want to train during this time of the year. The boys looked like they were dragged their entire way here. A small chuckle almost erupted from your lips, but the panic still held a grip on you. 

“We heard from Wood —“ George began, face flushed and breath short from the running, “—that you were in the infirmary. We ran as fast as we could after practice.” He sat down at the foot of your bed, careful to not squish anything in case he hurt you any more. 

Fred stood at the other side of your bed, studying you carefully as he rested a hand on the footboard. “Are you okay?”

Without another thought, like routine, you answered. “I’m fine.”

You offered them a reassuring smile. It wasn’t the first time they found you in the hospital tired and injured. The first time had been some time in your first year, it was only the fourth transformation there and you weren’t used to transforming outside of your home. When they found you, you lied to them, obviously. 

They were small lies, you reassured yourself. Small, non-hurtful lies, that were the most believable thing you could come up with: accidents, whether they were magical ones or something else of the like. Recently, your excuses were from quidditch practice… they bought it. And when they did, they would always, without a fail, criticize Flint on how he shouldn’t be so harsh on his team. You would chuckle and agree with them, retaliating with Wood’s dramatic behavior with the Gryffindor team. That distracted the boys from asking any more questions about you. 

You couldn’t tell them the truth after all.  

Lying to them was something that always stayed in the back of your mind, wriggling like a nasty creature. In the end, after lying to them for so long, you began to lie to yourself. It was the only way not to be lynched, you thought to yourself. 

But what scared you most wasn’t being hunted down. It was seeing those you cared about shun you and look at you with disgust. You were lying to them after all, and betraying their trust. It was near selfish — scratch that, it was selfish. 

But you had an image to uphold, and if you ever saw that look of disgust and betrayal on them… you wouldn’t know what to do. You’d have to leave Hogwarts, your friends… them. You smoothed down a few wrinkles that tarnished the white sheets of the bed and didn’t meet their eyes. 

“You sure?” George asked softly. 

You gazed down at the hand that slowly inched towards yours. A bit of dirt was embedded in his nails, no doubt from the quidditch practice they had just come from. You looked at yours as they were in the same state of disarray. Dirt caked yours, except that yours served as a painful reminder that just last night you had been out in the forbidden forest, running on familiar grounds. Just another reminder that even with your similarities, there would always be differences that led to the same end. A pained smile faintly painted your features as you inched your hand closer, tapping your finger over his as a calming gesture. 

“It’s nothing major. I’m fine, you shouldn’t worry about me.”

They were quiet for a second until Fred spoke up. “Why shouldn’t we worry about you?” 

“Yeah, why shouldn’t we? They changed the entire match!”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I told McGonagall not to do that.” 

“You did?”

You peeked an eye through the crevices of your fingers before dragging them down. “Yeah, I would’ve been fine by tomorrow after a few health potions. Professor Snape even offered to brew something for me, but I feel like his generosity was more in the form of wanting to see Slytherin win against Gryffindor more than anything.” 

The twins laughed at the words ‘generosity’ and ‘Snape’ in the same sentence. You couldn’t help but laugh with them. 

“So, who are you guys playing against if it’s not us?”

“Hufflepuff,” Fred said, his voice parodying that of the girls on their team. “If we lose it’s because the girls are going to be too busy ogling at Hufflepuff’s new captain. You should’ve seen how Wood blew up, weeks of practice for nothing.”

Both gingers shook their heads disapprovingly, but you just chuckled.  

“Hufflepuff has a new captain?” 

“Yeah,” George teased. “Don’t know how Pretty Boy Diggory managed to do that, but he did.”

“Cedric?” Shock and amusement ran through you. The feeling of dread and guilt you felt just moments ago seeped away. “I’m going to hex that Hufflepuff the next time I see him. I knew he was hiding something from me. Why did he not tell me sooner?” 

“Beats us.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Anyway, I’m not worried for you guys. Harry’s a pretty tough seeker, I’m sure you’ll do just fine in tomorrow’s match.” 

– – – – – 

They did not do fine. 

You were sandwiched in between Adrian and Solaris as the three of you made your way back towards the castle after the game. A transparent light emanated from the wand between your fingers, it flowed like a shield above the three of you, guarding you against the rain. Its light faded once it curved outward like the shape of an umbrella, it made no noise as the fierce rain droplets pelted from above. 

Solaris clutched onto your other arm, shivering from the wet and cold climate. “This is the last time I ever agree to watch a match of theirs in the pouring rain. Whoever thought having matches so late in November was a great idea?” 

“I would agree, but at least we got an unexpected turn of events,” mused Adrian. 

Images of Harry’s unconscious body flashed through your mind. It had happened just mere moments ago, a suffocating feeling hovered over everyone as they held their breath. Dumbledore was quick to carefully bring him back down to the ground and procured a stretcher. Pomfrey followed soon as well as the rest of the Gryffindor team. The rest of the students were instructed to go back inside while the professors took care of the overwhelming amount of dementors present. Poor Cedric nearly blew up on Madam Hooch to allow a rematch after he flew back down with the snitch, unaware of Harry’s condition. 

“Dumbledore’s going to be pissed about this,” you muttered. 

“And rightfully so,” said a gruff voice from behind the three of you. The tall, burly groundskeeper quickly flashed the three of you a well-meaning smile. 

You greeted the giant warmly. “Hagrid, hello.” 

“Hello there you three.” 

The two Slytherins beside you greeted him. 

“What are you doing out here, Professor? Are you on your way to go see Harry?” 

“Yup,” he said as he scratched the back of his neck. “I went to collect Harry’s broom… or what’s left of it anyway.”

The three of you cringed at the poor bundle of splinters and sticks that was the Nimbus 2000. Hagrid wrapped it back up and held it carefully, explaining how it sadly got blown towards the whomping willow where it met its disastrous fate.  

“How’s Professor Lupin fairing?” He asked, hoping to get out of the awkward situation. 

You gave him a reassuring smile. “He’s doing okay now that he’s resting in his room. He’s more saddened by the fact that he couldn’t be there for the first match of the season.” 

He nodded, understanding what you meant. “I ought to pay him a visit this evening then. I’ll take me kettle after I’m done with this.” 

“I’m sure he’d love that, Hagrid. Thank you.”

He said his goodbyes to the three of you, his massive figure soon disappearing out of view as he hurried over to the castle. 

As the three of you made your way back, an odd feeling tugged at you. It felt as if there was something watching. It wasn’t anything dangerous, at least nothing too dangerous to put you on high alert, but you scanned your surroundings and saw nothing — no wait. There, at the edge of the dark forest, stood a large, shaggy, black dog. You couldn’t quite see its eyes, but you could somehow tell that it was watching. 

Accompanying the huge, black dog, was a fluffy, ginger cat. It too felt like it was watching you just as bemusedly.  One part of your brain was curious, you’ve never seen a dog roam the grounds of Hogwarts (besides yourself and your dad). You weren’t even sure if it was a real dog or some other creature that lived within the dark forest. 

“Is something the matter?”

“Huh?”

You looked away to look at Solaris whose concerned brown eyes studied you carefully at your lack of response. However, wanting to make sure you weren’t imagining things, you looked back to where you had just seen the dark canine… but the dog was gone. 

You swore you saw a dog… 

“Y/N?”

“No… nothing’s the matter,” you breathed out. Something about the dog didn’t settle right with you, but you pushed it aside. You weren’t even sure if it was real to start with, it was probably your mind playing tricks on you. Or the rain, there was still quite a heavy pour surrounding you that made the things in front of you a bit blurry.   

“We should get to the castle before it gets any colder.”

Sparing a final glance at the now empty woodland edge, you agreed and continued your trek back.