Infinity Times Infinity

“C’mon, hit me with it!” You shouted from a few feet away. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” 

Solaris cringed for a moment then steeled herself. She squared her shoulders and realigned her feet before flicking her wand. The incantation seeped from her lips with relative strength and a bright light shot out. The shocking blue light sprung forward and nearly hit you if it weren’t for the Protego you cast. The light abruptly crackled as it hit the shield, then sizzled into nothing. 

“Holy shit that was brilliant!” You shouted from where you stood. 

The Slytherin threw her arms up and bounced excitedly, eyes shimmering almost as bright as the spell. It was the fifth time she attempted to cast it, each prior attempt fizzling before it reached her target… that target being you. With enough encouragement (and repeated demonstrations of your shield charm), she trusted that she wouldn’t harm you.  

Adrian whooped from the tree he was leaning against, book abandoned and long forgotten. Ahira laid next to him, half wrapped around his leg while the rest of her remained hidden in the vibrant spring grass Scotland had to offer. She wanted to absorb some sunshine which was why she was outside with the three of you. 

“Can we try it again?” She asked, jumping from foot to foot. “I can’t believe I actually did it!” 

You chuckled, then motioned for her to get into position as you did the same. 

Defense Against the Dark Arts was a subject Solaris had little to no luck in. With a record of poor defense teachers, it was a surprise that many (if not any) students got O.W.L.s and furthered into N.E.W.T. level classes. Now, however, with your dad being the one teaching the subject, students believed that they had a higher chance of passing… one of those being Solaris who wanted you to help her with the practice portion of the exam. 

The two of you assumed stances, but at the last second, a familiar voice caught your attention.  

You looked away, which was a bad idea because you were a second too late with your shield. At the same time, Solaris drew her wand and shot a faint blue light towards you. You drew your wand but weren’t fast enough to block it. The ground beneath your feet disappeared and you flipped through the air. An oomph escaped your lips as did all the air from your lungs. 

Solaris shouted and ran over towards you, but you waved at her and stumbled onto your feet. A goofy grin plastered on your dirty face as you flashed her a thumbs up. She gasped at your dirtied appearance, chastising the fact that you did not look okay. 

“Sol, please.” You shook the dirt off of your robes. “You sound like my father.” 

“I’m sorry, but wow did that spell pack some bite!”

You rolled your eyes. “I feel bad for your examiner the day we have to take our O.W.L.s.” 

She shoved you playfully, but this time you were expecting it. “If I didn’t fear risking my marks, I’d laugh.” 

You glanced at the two redheads making their way down the hill. They stumbled down the uneven path and stopped once they reached you, their faces looked panicked, but for the most part, held a firm grimace. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, we just saw you get wiped out!” 

You finished patting yourself off of dirt and faced the boys. “Fine, nothing little old me couldn’t handle.” 

“You sure? Maybe Pomfrey should check you.” Fred chuckled a little. “You practically starfished through the air.” 

“What’s the worse thing that’ll happen? I’ll get a bruise?” You shrugged. “I’ll be fine.” 

Fred eyed you carefully. He wasn’t pouting, but somehow his eyes managed to emit the same emotion. Something about the taught eyebrows he bore made you wonder just how bad the hit looked. 

Sure, Solaris hit you straight on, but it’s not like it actually hurt. Oddly enough, you realized that you had immunity when it came to being hit with most offensive spells and curses — they practically bounced right off of you. You came to the conclusion that werewolves must share a similar genetic makeup like giants. You had read somewhere, in one of your mother’s old textbooks, something similar to your hypothesis so it wasn’t too farfetched to think so. 

A smidge of worry finally prompted you to say something. “If you’re so worried, then I’ll go and ask her for some bruise balm.”

“And get a check up?” George prompted. 

You sighed. “And a check-up.” 

“You Gryffindors are such worry-worts when you want to be.” Solaris strolled right up, arms crossed playfully over her chest. 

“You’re not worried because you would know how to hide her body in case you accidentally kill her.” Fred mimicked her posture, arms also across his chest. 

“Accidentally is putting it lightly, Freddie,” teased George. 

Solaris rolled her eyes, a smirk playing on her lips. “You got me there.” 

“Anyway, we’re here to steal your little snake friend here.” Fred clasped his hands on your shoulders, giving them a friendly shake. “The Library awaits!” 

You looked up and over your shoulder. “Library?”

Fred spun you from the shoulders to face him. “Don’t tell us you forgot?”

You scoured your brain for what day it was today — oh shit. You gasped and the twins both raised an eyebrow. Library — right — the boys needed to find some passages on the effects of certain water plants and their reactivity. They had asked for help a few days prior, something about needing you to translate something from old runic texts. You agreed, but the stress of the full moon must’ve clouded your thoughts. 

“No, I remember.” You blinked a few times before giving him a reassuring smile. “Just let me get Ahira — Ahira?” 

The snake popped their head up from the grass but gave no sign of moving. 

“Want to join me in the library or stay with them?” 

She flickered her tongue, too lazy to even say anything, and sauntered back into the grass. You rolled your eyes as she faced belly up for Adrian to scratch. “Okay, I guess I’ll see the three of you back in the common room.” 

You waved goodbye and joined the Weasleys back uphill towards the castle. Trying your best not to wince as the incline made your bones ache, you teetered alongside the twins and kept yourself a pace behind them. Either they didn’t notice or they didn’t want to bother you with any more of their worries, but they didn’t broach the topic. You were thankful that they didn’t say anything and instead slowed their pace to match yours. 

Back at the small hill where the two Slytherins resided, Solaris glanced at Adrian and shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to hearing her speak Parseltongue.” 

Adrian shrugged while continuing to pet Ahira’s smooth scales. “I don’t mind it, it’s pretty soothing.” 

– – – – –

It was pure luck finding an empty table at the library… especially in a secluded nook. Well, it wasn’t luck, it was your secret nook, one you had found while sneaking around Hogwarts when you were eight. It was perfect. The nook was hidden behind bookshelves, one of the walls belonging to the actual castle where two long, gaunt-looking windows let seep just enough light. A thin film of dust covered them, but that didn’t bother you much. 

It was empty the first time you found it. It was a rather blank space, just a square of floor surrounded by bookshelves. The first times that you hid yourself within the room, you dragged in one of the library’s tables that no one seemed to notice go missing except Filch (Madam Pince was bothered by it too, but she simply conjured a new one). You waited a little longer to ring yourself a chair and later a muggle beanbag chair that Professor Burbage had gifted you. She was worried, seeing a tiny kid drag a beanbag chair throughout Hogwarts, but saw you alive an hour later so she didn’t fret too much. 

But curiosity got the better of her, so the next time you found yourself in her classroom she asked you where you had taken it. That’s when eight-year-old you led her by the hand to show her your little library corner. She seemed to have liked it too and helped you decorate it with some muggle appliances that were adapted to wizarding standards. Something muggles called fairy lights strung from one of the walls (it was technically the bookshelf), a colorful rug now protected the floor from the table, and a few muggle band posters littered the stone wall without the windows. You shared a toothless smile with her and had a tea party even though she couldn’t properly sit on the chair you had stolen.

Flitwick later found out, through Burbage, about your little place and charmed the room, not much but he expanded the interior by twice its size. That was how three people (you and the two giants you had befriended) could fit comfortably. No hunched backs! You were forever grateful. 

You flopped onto the beanbag chair the moment the three of you found the spot. George took one of the seats by the table while Fred remained outside. He plucked a book off of the shelf so that he could peer inside. 

“I’ll go look for the books. George, go find some extra parchment.” Fred snapped his fingers then dipped his head to lean closer into the bookshelf.  You almost laughed at how ridiculous he looked between the two thickly bound textbooks. “And you stay there and look pretty ’til we get back.” 

You quietly mocked him and got up from your seat. “I need some review material. I’ll go see if Madam Pince has any O.W.L. review packets or old test records.” 

Fred shrugged before going off to who-knows-where. George got up from the other seat and slinked behind his brother. Once their shadows disappeared, and neither shape moved from the library’s flickering candlelight, you dropped yourself back down into the seat and massaged your tired legs. 

Professor Sinatra’s teaching assistant had made every student track the moon’s cycle this month.  He explained the significance of this month’s full moon and you nearly dropped your quill. It was the closest it would ever be this year meaning hell for you and your father. Of course, the students didn’t need to know that. The teaching assistant had explained other peculiar effects the moon would cause many of which you didn’t hear — too worried about the aftermath of the full moon. 

The April full moon was the most taxing one yet. You had prepared yourself for it, but even with the full moon’s phase having been three nights ago, the creaking in your bones remained. You massaged a knot around your ankle before taking a deep breath and leaving the nook. 

It didn’t take long for you to find some useful review books and some light reading. Light reading being… well, moderately light. The book seemed interesting, so you weren’t opposed to its language. It was about alchemy and the basic foundations of transmuting. The subject wasn’t new to you, having read ‘A Dummy’s Guide to’ an introduction to Alchemy in your third year. The book was still a little complicated for a third year to understand, but it interested you nonetheless to pursue it next year. 

You pocketed the book and made your way back to the table the three of you occupied. The boys still weren’t there so you decided to read the review book. But by the fifth page, your eyelids grew heavy and slowly the cool surface of the pages soothed your face as you fell into a subtle sleep. 

– – – – –

It felt like you’ve done this before… waking up at the library that is. No wait, you have, but this was the first time you’ve been awoken by someone. You blinked tiredly, eyes dazed and unfocused. 

It wasn’t as late as the last time. Sunlight managed to filter through the dusty, drawn curtains that framed the windows. Time felt slow as if encapsulated in honey or amber. You had studied every jar of honey your father had in the kitchen when you grew bored — and that was saying something. He was really picky about what kind of honey better accompanied what kind of tea. He said he had learned of this trick from someone in his graduating class ad kept the knowledge to himself.  Of course, he taught you how to make the best cup so you learned how to find distinguish different types of honey by smell and sight.  

Enough about honey — anyway, that’s how the room felt. Everything was tinted amber as if you had been back at home staring into one of those glass jars. Even the little dust that was collected and floated about in the library reminded you of them. 

But then the room turned a shade darker as the sun became overshadowed by something tall… and red? 

“Up and at ‘em, Lupin.” That sounded like Fred. 

“You okay?” And that was George. “We found you sleeping like a giant.” 

“Way to compliment a lady, George.” Your voice felt heavy with sleep, joined with a ragged edge. 

Fred laughed like he usually did as he watched a page of your book stick to your cheek. You pushed it back down and rubbed at the soreness. 

“I mean, we did just leave to get a book or two,” Fred sat on the chair across from you. “Then we came back to you snoring like a bear —”

George scratched his cheek “More like a puppy.”

“A very sleepy puppy,” he agreed. 

Your face grew warm from embarrassment but said nothing. A puppy! Ha, that was a funny one. You tiredly rubbed your eyes until you were done blinking the tiredness away. 

“Alright?” Fred asked, head tilted curiously like a puppy. Okay, what is it with puppies today?

“Just tired.” You felt your lips give an awkward smile and you quickly looked away. 

“You wanna head back? We can always meet up tomorrow and translate this?” He shook the book in his hand. 

“I don’t want to go to my dorm just yet.” A soft smirk painted your lips. “Can we sneak into the kitchens? I heard there’s still some leftover pudding from yesterday.” 

Fred looked at George, who shrugged his shoulders — that was enough of an answer for him. 

“Sure, I’ll go scout the hallway. Be back in a jif.” Fred left, his voice trailing behind him until he disappeared. 

You looked at the book the boys had brought: One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi and Winogrand’s Wondrous Water Plants. Simple herbology books, neither really O.W.L.s material, but you knew that they were using them for their own research. 

Apparently, there was a Chinese plant that was used to both thin and coagulate blood. If used right, it would keep wizards from bleeding out if their wand was unavailable or if they had no other methods of healing. The twins took interest but had no idea if the plant even existed or was by any means easy to access. From what little they could translate themselves, there was a plant in the same family with similar properties native to Scotland and Britain. 

Your fingers trailed the book’s spine thoughtlessly. It was a bit quiet, unsure as to why, you looked up and saw George leaning against the window’s stone frame, arms crossed lazily over his chest, mind lost in thought. 

Something was off about George… you didn’t know what until your eyes trailed over the loose and mangled tie around his neck. It hung lazily over the white uniform shirt. Before you could stop yourself, habit winning over your tired mind, you got up from your chair and made your way over to him. His eyes followed you curiously, but he didn’t say anything as your hands made easy work of his tie. The slightly stiff fabric from his collar tickled the pads of your fingers as you pushed the tie underneath it and tugged it flush against the nape. The knot was a simple Half Windsor knot that you used on your own uniform. 

Your supple fingers slid along the soft skin as you pushed the collar up, fixing it to look polished, and admired the pristine triangle when you realized what you had done. You had just fixed his collar — that was all! It would have been nothing to worry about… except for the intimacy that somehow managed to arise. The two of you were so close, a few mere inches away from each other. You could feel his heart beat loudly, not erratically, just loud as if stating its existence to everybody. 

George Weasley has a heart and he wasn’t afraid to let it sound. 

Slowly, you meet his soft brown gaze. The warm sunset’s light outside the library filtered through the windows, helping the redhead’s brown eyes warmer than they already were. He was watching you, lips slightly dry and parted. His tongue darted for a split second, wetting them as if he had heard your thoughts. 

Your cheeks grew warm and you finally tore your gaze from him, your hands soon followed realizing that you had yet to take them away from his chest where they rested peacefully throughout the exchange. You cleared your throat and before either of you could say anything, Fred popped back in. 

“The coast is clear, we can sneak into the kitchens.” 

“Great, I’m starving!” You said a little too enthusiastically and stiffly walked to the exit to join Fred. 

The twins chuckled as they followed you out of the library, each slotting themselves on either side of you. It was barely any difference, but you assumed that because of your heightened heart rate every other sense was heightened — especially that of touch. 

George stood closer to you, something that was normal for either twin to do, but his hand brushed yours every few steps. Neither of you pulled away, allowing your hands to brush past the other. Each touch sparked something, you weren’t quite sure what, but with the fluttering feeling and rush of adrenaline, each touch brought… comfort. 

Your eyes fluttered close, the twins’ voices soothing you. Their words muffled into nothing and you were being lulled until a warm touch shook you back into reality. Your name spilled from Fred’s mouth and you blinked tiredly. 

“What?” 

“Are sure you don’t want to see the Matron?”

“You were nodding off again.” 

You chuckled. “I was listening to you knobs talk. Plus, this is nothing some secret snacks won’t fix.”

“That’s the spirit!” Fred pat your shoulder. George did the same on the other side. “You up for a little race?” 

“Fred, I just said I’m tired.” 

He wiggled his eyebrows. “You won’t be the one doing the running — come on, I’ll lend you a back.”

Did he… did he want to give you a piggyback ride? 

Fred sighed when he saw your ‘thinking’ face, then kneeled with his back facing you. “Up, c’mon. I’ll give you a piggyback ride.”

“What? No, it’s fine. I can walk.” 

At that moment, however, your feet had other plans. You stumbled, and instead of proving your point, it further exhibited your non-refined motor skills. George caught you by the arm, his grip firm but careful as he held you steady. 

“I think you should let Fred give you a piggyback ride.”

It didn’t take much convincing after that, especially when George’s big brown eyes pleaded with yours (you cringed a bit at how moved you felt). You remained quiet and reflected on how you felt physically. Your limbs still ached a bit and unlike your dad, you rather not be seen walking around with a cane, which only made you exert yourself more. You sighed and resigned yourself to be carried about. 

With careful movements, you were on top of the tall redhead. You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face into his scarf. Your breath and the heat radiating off of him slowly brought some more color to your skin, something you hadn’t even realized. The pungent smell of gunpowder and other explosive scents tickled your nose. It was a smell you grew to associate both boys with just how many times they exploded things. 

If you sought out their differences, Fred smelled livelier… like orange citrus and cinnamon with a bit of cardamom, or was that clove? Well, it suited him quite nicely regardless. You were never quite sure if he used a shampoo with those scents or if this was some other werewolf ability you had. 

You weren’t holding onto George at the moment, but you remembered how he smelled when you stood so close to him moments earlier. He was a bit more mellow compared to Fred, like honey and lemon with hints of sassafras. It was healing yet it carried its own punch when it needed to. 

The sudden reminder that you were being held by Fred brought you back from your little reverie. Your cheeks grew warm very quickly at the thoughts so you looked up and away from where your head currently resided. 

“How’re you holding up back there?” Fred asked at your movement. 

“Holding up fine.”

Fred hummed thoughtfully and shifted you a bit to strengthen his hold, then turned to look at his brother. “You up for a little race, Georgie?” 

George gave a mischievous grin, something you weren’t quite sure you wanted to see at that moment. “Race you to the portrait?” 

You pulled back, hands clutching his shoulders whilst shooting him a nasty glare. You had forgotten, in your tired state, that they had agreed to race each other. 

“Fred, don’t you dare —“ but you were cut off as a scream escaped your lips. 

The scream quickly dissolved into laughter as the three of you zoomed through the corridor and past two surprised Gryffindors. Your eyes were closed for the most part, so you hadn’t seen how your father watched the three of you with such vigor. McGonagall, on the other hand, shook her head and shouted about not running in the corridors (“Five points from Gryffindor each!”). A smile still managed to make its way to her face as she turned to acknowledge her colleague. 

Remus watched on lovingly as he saw the group disappear behind a corridor. It warmed him, seeing his daughter so open and carefree. Seeing them… they reminded him of something he yearned to experience one more time. The laughter and memories from a certain group of people he once knew haunted his mind, haunting like his own self roaming the castle’s dissonant corridors. The last of the laughing fit lost itself within the hallway until it was no more. 

“Some things never change,” McGonagall said, her voice reminiscent. 

He continued to walk alongside her, offering the same company he never refused from her. It was odd to walk alongside her as colleagues, equals as some may say (even though she would forever remain Professor to him). Her words affected him, something he didn’t know would, at least not so heavily for such a light-hearted moment. 

Things change… they always do. 

It was something he knew to be true. Change was the only thing consistent in his life. He shook his head, snapping himself away from his pitiful thoughts once they reached the door to her classroom. In the end, he decided that maybe he’d rather spend some time for himself, to reflect.

“I think I should retire to my own quarters. Have a pleasant day, Minerva.” 

She gave him a knowing smile and bid him farewell as she entered her own classroom, then headed towards her office. Remus, however, did not yet leave. He stood outside her door, counting down the seconds until he hit zero and an unpleasant string of curses signalled his cue to leave. 

Right, this was the time to get out of there. 

Remus laughed as he heard the old woman shout, but he was too far from the classroom by then to suffer her wrath. It was a small prank, nothing more than adhering her office supplies onto the ceiling — nothing a severing or unsticking charm couldn’t fix. His laughs grew a little livelier as he bounded down the same hallways he once had. The warm rays of sun flittered through every alcove in the courtyard, hitting him in intervals until he ran further inside Hogwarts. The same air rushed through his hair, but the creaking of his joints signalled age and time past. 

Maybe some things didn’t change. 

His breath grew drawn which made him slow once he turned a corner. He walked alongside a different courtyard where some students resided. They looked at peace, chatting perhaps about their futures or about those they fancied. Well, whatever it was he wasn’t too keen on knowing. He truly did want to go to his office and collapse onto his comfy sofa, read a book, or something of the like. 

The familiar scent of herbs immediately caught his attention and drew him away from his thoughts. He didn’t have to look to see who it was, but he did so anyway. Dark shoulder-length hair curtained the man’s face and hid his eyes from the werewolf’s view. 

At the other end of the corridor stood none other than Severus Snape, who made his way over to him. 

No, not over to him, just past him. 

“Severus,” he said quietly as he slowed to a stop, but the black-clad professor didn’t spare him a glance. He was apparently too mesmerized by the book he was nose deep into to notice, or maybe he didn’t care to. Remus had grown to realize how easy it was for Severus to ignore those he deemed annoying or senseless and continue with his work — of course, he was one of those whom Severus would ignore.  

Remus turned only to watch Severus walk away. The soft black fabric of his cloak fluttered below him as he continued down the hallway before disappearing behind a corner. He looked back down, smile fading as he continued his walk back to his office. It felt much longer and burdensome, his feet heavy as he dragged himself. 

Some things don’t change… and he had to deal with that.