Albus Dumbledore made a grave mistake on the first of November, simply hours after the Potter Patriarch and Matriarch were slain. He left a newly orphaned infant in the clutches of her mother's sister and her family. He knew that they hated Magic with a passion, yet, still left her there. Lucky for him, Rebekah swiftly learnt how to control herself.
Most days, Rebekah Potter was a happy and cheerful young girl with a large grin and a mischievous glint in her eyes. She was a delight to be with and look after, that was when she wasn't annoyed. But the days that she was, the scent of fear filled the house.
The daughter of James and Lily Potter wasn't one to be trifled with, insulted or disrespected. Her cool temper spiked to extremes when angered and her Magic behaved as such, lashing out at a vase of flowers or cracking a glass.
Her cousin and his family knew this, acting far nicer to her than they would have otherwise. As long as she was content and they were agreeable, The Dursley household remained as the rest of the neighbourhood was, free of Magic and nonsense.
Of course, not everything was perfect. Disagreements here, and arguments there would disrupt the order of peace that the household held, but things always returned to a neutral agreement. Eventually returned to a neutral agreement.
And being woken by the banging of her loft door was not a pleasant thing.
It was her cousin's, Dudley's birthday and meant that the kitchen was filled with presents and gifts. As it was his birthday, the one day a year she allowed him to be a right git, he swatted the door of the loft with a broom as the door was on the ceiling, waking her up from the dreamless sleep she somehow conjured up.
"Rebekah! Rebekah, wake up!" Dudley shouted through the door, he didn't dare open it without permission.
Ask permission with her things–That was one of the rules for a quiet life with Rebekah Potter. The Dursley household had been unruly, they didn't want to alert the neighbours about anything strange, so they compromised with her as she did with them. It had been a quiet few years, almost four years of peace.
"Come on!" He shouted again and swatted at the door. "You promised you'd be helping me unwrap my presents."
Did she promise? Yes. Will she live up to her promise? She had to, she wasn't without honour. Her loophole always was that she never specified times, she just laid in bed, staring out the window above her bed.
Almost eleven years since she was brought and left here, without a word and without a care. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had always lied about James and Lily Potter's deaths, always brushing off facts and question Rebekah asked.
Her floor vibrated from the banging, her bed vibrating and waking her up. She sighed, shrugging her covers off and slipped on a pair of slippers.
"Mum's making pancakes!" The little door opened and a burgundy haired girl kneeled, narrowing her forest green eyes at her cousin. A cream oversized top hung on her small frame and covered her navy shorts. The sleeves bunched up at her wrists as they were too long.
"Chocolate pancakes?" He nodded and a smile appeared on his chubby face. She sighed happily, her own smile crept onto her face. "Tell Aunt and Uncle I'll be down soon enough. After breakfast, I'll help with your presents and then we can go to the zoo. Is Piers coming along too?"
"Yeah, his mum will be bringing him soon," Dudley said, waving her to hurry and dress. "He'll be here in an hour, I think?"
"I'll be down in a minute. Bugger off and go eat some breakfast, save me a bit." She closed the door and shook her cream slippers off, placing them on the little shoe rack Uncle Vernon had gotten her, or in truth, she threatened him until he did. It sat next to the door and under hooks that held her coats and a few jackets.
As her room was the loft converted by her request, two walls were at an odd angle but allowed a lot of floor room. Her small dresser was at one of the right-angled walls and her bed was under one of the oddly angled walls, a pair of large windows above her bed. How many times had she hit her head on it? She lost count after 30-something.
Rebekah opened the windows first and sprayed them with bug-repellent. How she hated bugs of any sort, disgusting things. She made her black sheets, the end without the large row of flowers was tucked below three pillows that each had a single, vertical row of flowers. She stripped near the dresser, a change of clothes had been laid out the night before. The pyjamas were dumped in the hamper.
A cream, lace button-up top hugged her small frame as she tucked the bottom into a pair of dark grey skinny jeans. Normal jeans were not allowed in The Dursley house as they looked like they belong on 'Good-for-nothing people' but skinny jeans were allowed as long as they were paired with a nice top. Rebekah chose a pair of nice and completely cream trainers, a gold bangle on her right wrist and a black and gold watch on her left.
"Mornin'" Rebekah greeted the Dursleys.
"Good morning, Rebekah," Aunt Petunia, digging her spatula under a pancake and flipping it over, said from next to the stove.
Uncle Vernon sat reading a newspaper, chuckling at a certain article. "Morning. Have you read this nonsense these people actually believe? What idiots!"
Rebekah did as she always had at breakfast, sat, concentrated on eating and reading the newspaper after Uncle Vernon passed it over. "Very true, Uncle. Some people just don't have very much common sense."
"Thirty-six," Dudley said, counting his gifts in the living room. "That's two less than last year."
"You haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, it's here under this big one from Mommy and Daddy."
"All right, thirty-seven then," Dudley said and went a little bit red in anger.
"Thirty-eight, Dudley," Rebekah said after she finished a mouthful of fruit. She pointed to a small package on the table, it sat next to her drink. "My gift is there, Happy birthday."
"Thirty-eight! Thanks, Rebekah," He turned to Aunt Petunia. "Still, I've got the same amount as last year's!"
Rebekah sighed. Dudley was about to have one of his tantrums and everyone could sense it. Rebekah tutted in disgust.
"And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today," Aunt Petunia quickly said.
"So I'll have thirty...Thirty…?" Dudley struggled with maths at times.
And so she was kind enough to answer for him, "Thirty-nine."
Uncle Vernon chuckled and ruffled Dudley's hair. "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. Good boy, Dudley!"
The telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer as her niece began to help with the unwrapping of the presents. Dudley unwrapped the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control aeroplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR. Rebekah held a golden wristwatch, showing it to him and commenting on how nice it was.
A knock came from the front door. The Dursleys looked at Dudley.
"I'll get it," Rebekah said, passing Dudley a small, red present and got up. She came to open the door to Piers, Dudley's best mate, and his mother.
"Good morning, Rebekah," Piers's mother said, her thin face thinned even more in a pleasant smile.
"Good morning, Mrs Polkiss. Piers, Dudley's in the living finishing up the last few presents," Rebekah said, letting the scrawny boy in. "He'll be happy to see you."
"Thanks."
"Rebekah…" Mrs Polkiss drew out, Rebekah smiled in fake-politeness. "You'll be stuck with the boys for hours, is that all right? At least, you are a good influence on both of the boys."
"Thank you for that comment, Mrs Polkiss, I'll be fine." Rebekah forced a smile. "It's how I've been brought up. Goodbye."
"Goodbye, dear."
Soon enough, they all were off to a zoo and reptile house. Rebekah had the boot to herself. She hummed a tiny song to pass the time it took for them arguing to stop.
Piers and Dudley found the largest snake, one long and strong enough to crush their car, sleeping in its glass enclosure. They left it because it didn't move at their demands to entertain them.
She turned to the large boa constrictor. "What a gorgeous creature you are. You poor creature, never been to your ancestors' birthright?"
It nodded and blinked his beady eyes, its tail pointing to a sign.
Bred in captivity.
"That's sad. You're just on display for the idiots that tap your glass. Have you never wanted to bite someone and slither away?"
The snake nodded his head and stuck his tongue out as he spoke, "Yes, of course. I tried that once. Didn't end well for them."
She flinched slightly, then smiled softly as she realised she could speak to the snake. Though, did it also work with all snakes?
Piers and Dudley ran over when they realised it moved. Their faces squished against the glass, it fell away and they fell in. Her sympathy for the poor creature made the glass disappear and it slithered out, hissing 'thanks' that she grinned at.
Rebekah could lash out unexpectedly. She wasn't reprimanded for it, simply told to be more careful and acquire better control. Rebekah had shed tears when she was young when she used to be reprimanded as her Magic lashed out, Petunia Dursley saw and calmed her with gentle words. The family had learnt that Magic wasn't always a bad thing, especially when Rebekah brought a dying rose back to life for Aunt Petunia.
A few weeks passed and it was time to get the mail. Dudley had been asked and he forced himself to get it when Rebekah did puppy-dog eyes. He came back with a few, two bills and one letter, one addressed to her. Dudley grabbed it and, after a warning look from Rebekah, placed hers on the table.
Miss R. Potter
The Loft of the house
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging Surrey
"Rebekah's got a letter!" Dudley repeated and waved it around. He was dressed in his Smeltings uniform, holding his smelting stick in his right hand.
"Who would be writing to you using that kind of paper?" Uncle Vernon asked curiously, shaking the letter open with one hand and glanced at it. His face went from red to green faster than traffic lights. Within seconds it was the greyish white of old paint. "P-P-Petunia!"
Aunt Petunia took it and read the first line of the address, curious. It looked as though she might faint. She clutched her throat, making a choking noise. "Vernon! Oh my goodness. Vernon!"
They stared at each other, forgetting that Rebekah and Dudley were in the room.
"Uncle, what is the big deal about this letter? It can not be bad because I got one, can it?" Rebekah said, looking to her letter and not recognising the seal or writing.
"Get out," He croaked to Dudley, stuffing the letter back inside its envelope.
Rebekah stood still, crossing her arms in a stubborn way. Dudley tried to grab her arm but she smacked his hand away. "No, I'm staying."
"Come on, Rebekah!" Dudley said, trying again. "He said to get out."
"Yeah," She agreed with a sigh and then her eyes hardened. "To you. Not me."
"DUDLEY OUT!" Uncle Vernon roared and the boy ran out. Rebekah flinched but remained standing, her letter clutched in her hands.
"Vernon," Aunt Petunia said, her voice quivering. "Look at the address. how could they know where she sleeps? You think they're watching the house?"
"Watching, spying, might be following us," Uncle Vernon muttered.
"But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want —" Uncle Vernon paced up and down the kitchen.
"No," He said at last. "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer…We won't do anything..."
"But..."
"I'm not having one in the house, Petunia! Didn't we swear when we took her in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?" Uncle Vernon almost shouted. "Rebekah has learnt to control hers, she'll do fine without them."
Who was this 'Them'?
"I promised my sister I would look after them if anything happened," Aunt Petunia glanced to Rebekah. "I promised your mother I would, and I will not forsake it for this rubbish. You, having learnt control, deserve to know the truth."
"Petunia!" Uncle Vernon began to look nervous. "What about them? If she opens the letter how would we know if they know that she had opened it? We wouldn't!"
"Vernon, I have met those people," Aunt Petunia sighed, taking a breath to calm her nerves and waved for Rebekah to open the letter. "Besides, she's a child and those people wouldn't dare harm her. Go on, open it."
"Fine," Uncle Vernon grunted. "Go on then, let us hear what it says."
Rebekah broke the seal with a small knife and read the contents of the letter.
Dear Miss R Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress
Witchcraft and Wizardry? That made perfect sense to her, she was a witch. Magic and all finally made sense. She wasn't a freak of nature, she had Magic that she could control. Magic that could be used freely.
"I'm a witch?" She asked, looking at their sad expressions. They remembered a certain memory that was long pushed back.
"Yes. Well," Aunt Petunia clutched the front of her top. "Your mother and father were Magical." She spat that word out. "Freaks. But you've turned out much better than she did. Dying in a war that she had nothing to do with."
"A War...She died in a war and you didn't think to tell me?" Rebekah lowered her tone to keep calm. "You didn't think to tell me before I got this letter? Magic would breed Magic, not a normal person. Basic science, if it even applies to the law's of Magic."
"Yo-you've taken it surprisingly well," Uncle Vernon said and thumped on the kitchen door, hard. A thud occurred, Dudley ran from the hallway
"Do you actually think that I hadn't figured it out?" Rebekah asked, tilting her head to the side. "I've been able to do it for years, hiding it from you both and Dudley because I knew that I was different. How different? I didn't know until now. I didn't need you to hate me even more than you already did, just because of something in me that I never could have controlled."
A tiny tear dripped from her right eye, shimmering a translucent line down her cheek. Externally, she was sad and upset; internally, she glowed with comfort.
"We-" Uncle Vernon grumbled and stopped, but Aunt Petunia continued. "Have never hated you. Magic got my sister killed and I will not allow you to be killed too."
"Well, I've decided," Rebekah said, looking from the letter to her face. "I am going to attend Hogwarts because, I know, that is what my parents would have wanted me to do. If I can't control what I am, I will control who I am. My parents would have," A tear escaped. "Wanted me to go and learn where I came from."
"No Magic in my house!" Uncle Vernon said. "You can do it out there but not in front of Dudley, and not where he can see."
"Does that mean I can attend?" She looked up with a smile. "Good. I'll abide by your rules since you have been doing that with me for the last eleven years. If I can control my own Magic, I can control myself better!"
"Dudley, go answer it." Uncle Vernon said as someone knocked at the house. He didn't take his eyes from the newspaper.
"I'm busy though!" He said back.
"I'll answer it. Dudders, you can be so lazy at times." She stated and left the table, straightening her crisp white shirt.
Unlocked the door and opened it, she saw a man, in black robes, stood with an attitude of confidence. The man was blank-faced and emotionless. Rebekah's lips tugged up.
"Wizard, correct?" His motionless facade stayed in place as Rebekah spoke. "Your wand, I suppose it would be called, is sticking out of your sleeve. Uncle Vernon! Aunt Petunia! A person from, ah, the school I've been accepted for is here."
Aunt Petunia was the first to see him, her face paled instantly and she went back to get her husband. Her pace was hurried and Uncle Vernon came rushing after Aunt Petunia. Dudley was behind them, staying at the door frame.
Rebekah chuckled at the sight of her whiter than normal face. "And I thought I was the only one to be able to do that! Scare them that is."
"My name is Severus Sn–"
"We don't need your lot here," Uncle Vernon said, narrowing his eye. He glanced to Rebekah, a faint smile on her lips. "One's enough."
"As I was saying…" He glared at Mrs Dursley, daring her to speak. "My name is Severus Snape, a professor at Hogwarts. By request of the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, I will see to it that you have your items before school starts on the first. Please get ready, we'll be leaving in a few minutes."
Rebekah's interest had spiked, her face relaxing into a timid facade.
She glanced to her clothes: A pair of nice pyjama shorts, a white top and black slippers. She wasn't going out in this. So Rebekah went upstairs and changed, coming down soon enough.
A cream sweater draped her frame, engulfing the black top underneath tucked into black jeans, paired with black ankle-boots and plain grey satchel. She wore her watch as she always did, pairing that with the single bangle on the other wrist.
She tucked a loose strand behind her ears as she put her long hair into a ponytail, binding it with a single grey band. Rebekah left the house with Snape. Snape's eyes glared at the Dursleys as they refused to leave the wizard alone in the house.
Rebekah trailed beside Snape. "Well, Miss Potter?"
"Well, what, Professor Snape?" Rebekah kept her eyes on the London streets, watching every person as they walked past and every shop that was opened. A man, looking to be in his late fifties, saw Rebekah and bowed lightly. She glowed inside.
"Simply strange," He said, looking down his nose slightly as their height difference was vast. "You have not asked about the Wizarding World at all. Why is that?"
"I can find out more about the Wizarding World by being in it than asking," Rebekah replied. "I am curious, just trying to find the right words in the right way to ask them. I'll figure it out soon."
"Well, our first stop will be Gringotts, the bank of the Wizarding World," The wizard continued at a slightly faster pace. "Come along, we'll need to make up for time soon. The Leaky Cauldron."
It wasn't much. A tiny pub that didn't have any significance to Rebekah, if Snape didn't say, or anyone who passed without notice. Almost like they were the only ones able to see it. And when Rebekah went in, she winced. The place was dark and shabby, something unpleasant yet welcoming. One could call it a strange, comforting dump.
Everyone seemed to know Rebekah's companion, greeting him stiffly or, in the bartender's case, with a disbelieving gaze.
"Good Lord," The bartender said and peered at Rebekah. "is this, can this be? Bless my soul. Rebekah Potter, what an honour."
"I'm sure," Rebekah said, crossing her arms. "Professor Snape, can we please continue on?"
"Is there a problem, Miss Potter?" Snape said, louder than necessary and caught everyone's attention.
"I don't even know these people and they're talking to me like we're old friends, it's weird," Rebekah whispered. "I might as well get some things done whilst being in the Wizarding World. It is my first time."
A tall man with blonde hair came into the pub, a younger version of himself following after, probably his son. His wife followed in and winced at the people in there.
"Severus," The woman greeted. Snape had a strained smile. "How are you? Is there anything important here? After all, there is so much commotion coming from here."
"Nothing especially important, Narcissa," Snape said through thin lips. "It is pleasant to see you and Lucius. Are you doing all right?"
"Yes," The beautiful woman gently pushed her son forward. "And is this…? No, she can't be."
"Can't be who, Mrs…?" Rebekah asked.
"Malfoy." The man said sharply. "Are you a Potter, miss?"
"I am, Mr Malfoy," She sent a dirty glance towards the crowds of blubbering people, then smiled at the Malfoy's.
"Well, you sure have your hands full with all the commotion, Severus. Would you like some help?" Mrs Malfoy asked Snape.
The young boy, about the same age as Rebekah, came closer after confirming it with his parents.
"Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." He stuck his hand out, Rebekah took his firmly. Nothing like a good and firm handshake, as Uncle Vernon always said.
"Potter, Rebekah Potter," She smiled lightly.
"It's nice to meet you," He said, slightly nervous. "So...Is this your first time in Diagon Alley?"
"Actually, yes," Rebekah said and crossed her arms loosely. "Are you going to Hogwarts?"
"Yes, of course. It's the best Wizarding school there is. Are you a first year too?"
She nodded. "I've only known that I was a witch for a few weeks now." He gave her a curious look. "I live with my non-Magical relatives. My mother's sister and her family."
"Ah, Muggles are what we call non-Magical people," He said and fidgeted. "I have none of them in my family, making us Pure-bloods. Was your father a pure-blood?"
"From what I know, yes. What does that make me? My mother was the only one to be a witch in her Muggle family."
"You're a half-blood!" Draco said, his lips almost went into a sneer.
"Is there a problem with that?" She almost sneered, grinding her teeth an inch. Just because her mother was a Muggleborn never meant that she was worth anything less than diamonds.
"Being a Halfblood make you…" He stopped talking when he saw her expression. She wasn't having any bullshit from racist people, even if it wasn't to do with race, it was against a person for simply being born 'wrong'.
"A Halfblood makes me what? Worth any less than you do? If you think that's true, you blond git, you'll have something coming!"
"I was going to say that being a half-blood," Draco Malfoy chose his next words carefully. "Means that people will disregard you as a second class citizen. At least, you're not a Mudblood."
"Yes, well I've been living with Muggles for the past eleven years." Snape waved her over and then continued to speak. "Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Draco. I hope we become friends."
"And I bet you'll be in Gryffindor like your parents." His parents also waved him over. "My whole family has been in Slytherin, the house of snakes."
"We'll see about where I am placed," Rebekah went to stand by Snape.
"Lucius, Narcissa," Snape introduced. "This is Rebekah Potter, Potter's daughter."
Both the older Malfoy's' eyes seemed to gleam with a certain intent, one that was common in her own eyes. Mrs Malfoy nodded her head and Mr Malfoy tilted his, tapping his cane lightly on the cobblestone floor.
"Well, Miss Potter, it's been a pleasure to meet you." Mr Malfoy said, hiding a shallow grin that mirrored Rebekah's, hers hid by a nod.
Mrs Malfoy leaned forward slightly, in a confident way. "I do hope you and Draco become good friends while attending Hogwarts. It would do him some good to be with one like yourself, such a young and respectful witch."
"Of course, Mrs Malfoy," Rebekah strained a smile that looked real and innocent. "I do hope I join Slytherin, Draco had mentioned that it was a good house."
"Come along, Miss Potter," Snape said, flourishing his robes like a bat. "We have many things to collect for your studies at Hogwarts."
Rebekah and Snape went to the Wizarding bank, Gringotts. A snow white building towering over the little shops, with matching white stairs and a burnished brown doors. The building had a small inscription that, as Rebekah got close, she could finally read:
Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.
A very small and portly creature came inside the bank, having a swarthy, clever face and a pointed beard. He bowed as they walked inside and Rebekah copied Snape's response of a nod to the creature.
"Is that?" Rebekah said. "I am not evening going to guess. Can you tell me the name, Professor Snape?"
"A Goblin, all the employees here are goblins," He said, his slow pace never wavering as they came upon a large and high desk at the very end. He swiftly took something out of his robe pocket and laid it on the desk. A key. "Possessive creatures. Yes, we are here to acquire money from Miss Rebekah Potter's vault. Allor, Vault 912."
"Yes, of course," Allor said, pausing with a finger in the air. "Would Miss Rebekah Potter like to take part in an identification session, first?"
"Mister Allor, before I agree to anything, can you first explain what this identification session would mean?" Rebekah asked politely. Of course, she was being respectful, she had no idea who this goblin be or could be representing. "I am unfamiliar with the terms, and would like it if you would explain what, if I chose to do it, would entail as the results?"
"Of course," Allor smiled, the skin tight against his skull. "An identification session would include you piercing your finger for blood and dripping it onto a piece of enchanted parchment. It would result in a reaction between the Magic on the parchment and your blood, allowing us to see if you are in line for any other vaults, or perhaps Houses. Also, we would be able to see if any money has been taken without your knowledge."
"If there is any money taken, it isn't because I have taken it," Rebekah muttered, then spoke louder. "Okay, yes, I am willing to do the identification session. Do I need prior permission from anyone?"
"Good, and no, Miss Potter, you do not as you have no guardians besides the Muggles," Allor said. "Simply cut your finger with the knife and drip the blood onto this parchment."
She took the knife, though it was more like a little blade with its four-inch length, dug the point into her left index finger and twisted it harshly. Rebekah didn't grimace, complain or whine, she simply ground her teeth slightly. The crimson drop splattered against the light tan of the parchment, glowing a golden tone then turned to a bright silver flash.
"Is that supposed to happen?" Rebekah asked, curious. The goblin looked worried for a moment then took a glance, seemed happy with the results.
"No, but it is not something to worry about," He reread the parchment. "Take a look upon the parchment, Madam, nothing to worry about."
Rebekah, with a cautious hand, took the parchment and read the swirly, black script.
Name: Rebekah L Potter
Blood status: Halfblood
Heiress of the house(s)(Strongest connection first): Potter, Peverell, Guant, Fleamont,
Core Magic: Undecided
Soul: Undecided
Magic: Unknown
Potential: Unknown
From what Rebekah understood, which was most of it, she was a very happy witch after seeing the parchment. It was burnt by her request. Two undecideds and two unknowns, the goblin had told her, great things could become of her because she, unlike the rest, had a greater choice and she could decide where she could lead herself.
"Now to the matter at hand," Allor took her key and stepped down, becoming much shorter than Rebekah. "You will need access to your vaults, though vault for the moment until you turn seventeen."
"Seventeen, why seventeen?"
"A young witch or wizard becomes an adult, or, they become independent to their parents and or guardians," Snape said from behind. "It depends on what laws one abide by."
"Oh, I forgot you were here," Rebekah hummed. "Well, Mister Allor, I would like access to my available vault."
"Yes, of course,"
Rebekah didn't like the way down to the vaults. Her satchel kept slamming against her side even if she held it down. Her hair whipped in her face, her sweater rattling against her frame. Her knuckles turned white with her grip on the rails. Her mouth was dry by the end. Though what was inside her vault was worth it.
Piles upon piles of gold, silver and bronze neatly set on antique pieces of furniture. Small glass cases of jewellery, earrings, bracelets, necklaces, brooches and even seven different crowns, circlets and tiaras sat in there, untouched for decades. She counted a dozen bookcases containing several hundred, perhaps a thousand books. Rebekah hoped they were full of spells, enchantments and Magic, or at least traditions she could learn.
The goblin held a grey pouch, hoarding several thousand golden, silver and bronze coins into it. "Here. You are almost done now, Madam. Please place anything you would wish to take from the vault into this, it will never be full or turn heavy as there is an enchantment placed upon it."
"Anything?" She smiled, her lips tugging upwards slowly. The goblin nodded, his face matched hers in greed. "Well, I'll be taking most of the books, and perhaps a few bits of jewellery."
"Of course," Waving his hand, Allor made most of the books, perhaps five or six hundred, float their way to the pouch. The pouch extended its rim to allow the books in. "Now, we will have to make your ring."
"All right," Rebekah followed the goblin outside. Snape was requested or rather demanded by Allor, to not enter the large vault without permission.
Eleven drops of blood coloured the molten silver metal, flashing a bright white in the small cauldron. It transformed and cooled the silver into a crest ring, like the ones the royal or upper-class elite would wear.
The ring sat in the caldron, dark silver in colour. The band was thin until the coat of arms, her family's coat of arms, bulged the ring slightly. The coat held three wands pointing toward their tips combined, a glowing orb sat there, a tone or so lighter than the dark background. Underneath everything, the name Potter was held within a banner.
"Not bad, it's comfortable enough," Rebekah said, wiggling her right hand where the ring sat on her index finger. "Will I need to get it recasted every few years, or will Magic do it for me?"
"No recasting needed until you are seventeen, the other vaults will make themselves known to you and you will get the other crests mixed with your own."
"Thank you, Mister Allor," Rebekah said, bowing slightly. "And have a pleasant day."
Half an hour later, Rebekah came into Twilfitt and Tattings, the pouch of Wizarding currency in her satchel. The shop was known to cater to the more expensive tastes, Snape told her and she agreed that she would go there. They had a pleasant conversation as Snape took charge of her list. Rebekah had black robes fitted along with several nice skirts, trousers and shirts.
"It would benefit if you were to get a familiar," Snape said, guiding them to an animal store.
He held the door open for Rebekah, wincing at the sound of the deafening creatures. The shop had several rows of cages, perches and blankets, each holding several animals inside. An older witch, perhaps late forties, perhaps early fifties, stood behind the counter and wrestled with a huge feline.
The feline was not an ordinary cat, that was for sure. It was huge, the size of the witch's torso, with large paws and furry body. Mostly coloured a grey and black tone, as the feline wrestled, its limbs turned to dark smoke. It withered, twisted, clawed and hissed, all in an attempt to get away from the terrible witch.
The creature clawed at her, a large gash forming. It jumped away from her, landing a few meters away on an empty cage. It pawed the air with claws, hissing through its teeth.
"Can I touch it?" Rebekah asked, almost in a trance with the creature.
It was so much like her at times, feral and beautiful. She didn't wait for a response, picking the large feline by the scruff and cuddling it in her arms. It almost made her fall over due to its weight, its squirming ceased and allowed itself to go limp in her arms. The feline sounded a deafening purr.
"How the fu-" The shopkeeper was silenced with a glare. "How did you get that damned creature to calm down? It has been a terror and menace since it got left here!"
"I understand why," Rebekah whispered to the feline, giving its ears a nice scratch. "You absolute poor thing. I understand why you would behave so, these conditions are horrendous."
"Will you take this one as your Familiar?" Snape observed the two as the feline purred deeply. "It would seem like a good match."
"Yes, definitely," The feline allowed itself to be moved in her arms. Rebekah held it like one does a tired toddler, its paws and head next to hers and she held up its body with both arms. "I ain't leaving this thing here, no I am not. This place is disgusting."
Snape nodded once, sharply turning to the shopkeeper. "She will have the feline."
The feline, Emperor, fell asleep on her as they left the shop. A thick silver collar around his neck, he didn't protest to it and even went to choose it himself.
"Good riddance."
Snape suggested that she was to get her wand next, otherwise, this trip would have been useless. Ollivanders was the famous wandmaker, Snape informed as they made their way there.
"What is Magic, in its entirety?" Rebekah asked the burning question that forbade itself to be known till now. "Besides, of course, a force to be reckoned with."
"Magic is not a thing to be owned, Miss Potter," He glanced downwards to her and reverted his gaze back to the surroundings. "It is a force, in a Muggle form, but it comes from the connections that we have with the Earth and its inhabitants. No connection, no Magic, meaning Muggles. Some may have a better understanding of Magic and so can advance in it faster than others. It will always depend on the person's core, mind and will if they were to advance in a certain aspect of Magic or any of its darker forms. Is that a good enough answer for you, Miss Potter?"
"Yes, thank you, Professor," Emperor walked beside her, her satchel twisted comfortably around his neck. "I wondered what actually caused Magic. Is that why most people need a wand to perform Magic because the wand is made from Earth and its inhabitants?"
"Yes, most people have weak cores and wills, and so they need to use a wand to act as an amplifier," He said. "As one becomes more powerful, one may learn the art of wandless and, or wordless Magic. Though this takes many years of practice."
Snape, once again, opened the door and let her in first. Tinkling bells rang in the depths of the shop as soon as they stepped inside. The shop was narrow and thin, though held many thin but long boxes. Most likely, they held wands.
"Good afternoon," Rebekah greeted the ageing man as he appeared.
"Ah yes," The man said. "Yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Rebekah Potter. You have your mother's eye colour, though yours are mixed with your father's. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."
"Honestly," She turned to Snape for permission to speak a, perhaps rude, comment. "I do not care about my parents' wands and whatnot. I simply want my own."
"Well of course," He hurried his words. "All right, Miss Potter. Let's see if this wand will suit you. Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."
She gripped the wand with her right hand, changed it to her left and back. A book exploded in the corner and she placed it down. "No, horrible wand."
"That was the sibling wand to You-Know-Who's, great things, terrible but great." He held another wand in moments. " Ash, unicorn hair, ten point three, bendy."
He snatched it out of her left hand. "No, no. Perhaps, maybe not actually. Bad idea."
"Now we won't ever know if that is a bad idea if we don't try it," Rebekah said and held her right hand out. "Now, please."
The wand, Yew wood with a Thestral tail hair, eleven point four and with no flexibility, glowed in her hand even if it was dark grey. It was cool and comforting in a strange, unique way.
"Well, Miss Potter, it seems like the wand chose you,"
"Good." She paid the amount discussed and left the shop, her wand twirling between her fingers.
"Thank you, Professor Snape, for taking me to Diagon Alley," She said outside the Dursley house. "I know I will do my best in your lessons. Being anything less than a Slytherin is below me."
"As well as you may try, I am a harsh teacher," He said. "I will congratulate you when you are sorted into Slytherin."
For the next month, Rebekah read and reread each and every textbook she got. She was determined to be prepared to enter into a world she has never heard of, she gained all the knowledge she could and retained it all in her mind.
Her favourite books, by far, were The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble, Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger, and Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander, in that order. Though she did like the information the other books gave, they weren't as interesting to her.
Rebekah packed her trunk once, twice and thrice because she couldn't decide on what she needed to bring. She reduced her packing and only put in what she would use almost every day, even sneaking several packs of coloured pens.
She kindly asked Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia for a lift to Kings' Cross, which they didn't argue about when she clenched her fist, torching a piece of newspaper. Rebekah gathered all three trunks of hers and placed them into the boot of the car, then she sat in the car and waited for the journey to end.
Uncle Vernon placed her trunks onto a small cart, one that Rebekah could pull in front of her as she walked. Emperor sat on the very top, draping his long limbs and sometimes grazing the floor. No one seemed to notice the extremely large feline that hissed when someone got too close. Rebekah just shushed Emperor but he grinned in a way that a feline could.
"Packed with Muggles, of course,"
Rebekah grinned at this woman's, this witch's words. She watched the plump woman, with raggy clothing that belonged in a thrift shop, talking to her children. Two of them, ginger twins, had a bit of fun with being twins, fooling their mother before running into the pillar that separated the ninth and tenth station. Both twins disappeared into the pillar and, with a small warning to Emperor, Rebekah followed after them.
How foolish was Rebekah, to not realise that Magic was in use with everything that had to do with the Wizarding World?
The station, Nine and Three Quarters, was packed with wizards and witches and their families and their familiars. They buzzed around like bees with honey to deposit, though this honey of theirs was their children and they were going to deposit their children onto the large express.
Rebekah shoved past. "Excuse me. Excuse me. Watch where you're walking! Excuse me. Please move aside. Excuse me, can I get past? Oh, for heaven's sake."
"Miss Potter," Rebekah felt the weight of a hand on her shoulder. "Would you like some help, my dear?"
"Thank you, Mrs Malfoy. It was becoming a hassle walking past these people," Rebekah said as she turned to the witch. "It is pleasant to see you again."
"And it is pleasant to see you again, also my dear," Mrs Malfoy said. The Malfoy matriarch led her away from the crowded centre, they split as she walked and made a clean path. "I do adore your garment, though Muggle, it is still beautiful."
The garment in question was Rebekah's fitted lace blouse. The overall colour was black with a metallic tone on the lace at her shoulders and arms. Rebekah had tucked the blouse into a pair of dark-wash jeans and flat ankle boots.
"Thank you. I also find your flowy garment pleasant, what is it called?" Mrs Malfoy had a dark beige, slightly formal dress under a long cloak-like coat that buttoned under the bust. The dress looked to be silk and the coat perhaps smooth velvet.
"Oh, I believe it is called a brocade overcoat, but I had asked the designer to make the fabric brocade but also velvet." They stopped when Mrs Malfoy saw her husband. He stood with Draco Malfoy by his side. "There is Draco, go speak with him while you both wait."
"Of course," Rebekah didn't like her tone when she ordered her to do something, but Rebekah forgave her this time and strained a pleasant smile. "It was pleasant to speak with you."
"Miss Potter," The young Malfoy began.
"Please call me Rebekah, Miss Potter makes it sound like I'm in trouble," She asked.
Draco nodded and then smiled. "Only if you call me Draco then, Mr Malfoy is my Father. How has your summer been since we met?"
"All right, I guess," Rebekah shrugged lightly and stroked Emperor's soft fur. "I found myself a familiar of sorts, or that is what Professor Snape had said. I also got the Potter House ring."
"Nice, " Draco said and looked at the ring as Rebekah showed him. "I won't get mine until I am seventeen. How did you get yours so early? Oh, sorry, bad question."
"No, it's okay, I think I got mine early because my parents are dead," She chuckled for a second. "I thought I would have had male relatives somewhere. None actually."
"Magic doesn't discriminate between genders, Miss Potter," Lucius Malfoy said. "Only between those who have the Magic in them. It also helps that you are the rightful descendant."
"Thank you for explaining, Mr Malfoy. No one has really explained anything to me, though I have read through most of my books on Wizarding traditions."
"Both of you, hurry on and get a good compartment, preferably the last one," Mrs Malfoy said, pointing a hand towards the back of the train. "That end has the larger compartments and usually are quieter than the front. Have Draco explain how Hogwarts works, Miss Potter. We have explained to him what is expected of a member of one of the twenty-eight families."
Rebekah shuffled her trunks towards the end of the train, where less and fewer people decided to stand. When the trunks were a foot from hitting the edge of the train, they floated on and could then be moved normally.
She shoved her belongings along, startling Emperor as the smallest trunk decided to topple. There wasn't a thud or clunk, so Rebekah looked over to it. The trunk levitated back onto the other two, settling itself back.
"Father said that the last compartment is the best, the one that the Slytherins of his year took," Draco said and wheeled his nicer cart along, pointing towards the end. "Some of my friends will be joining us, is that okay with you?"
"Yes, of course," Rebekah replied, her trunks shrunk slightly in size and were placed in the overhead. "They are your friends and I don't want to impose on you or them."
"Okay, Rebekah. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
"Hi, Draco!" An average but pretty girl said from the compartment's open door, her dark brown hair in a loose plait. "Blaise and Daphne will be here in a few minutes."
"Hello Pansy, how have you been?" Draco asked. This girl, Pansy, didn't seem to realise that Rebekah was there. Rebekah waited for her attention.
"It's been good this summer, my family went to France for two weeks," Pansy said, plopping herself next to him. "They had the best loaves of bread there. Hi!"
The pug-like girl finally realised that Rebekah was sat across from her, just as two more people came in.
"Rebekah, these are my friends from childhood," Draco introduced Pansy, pug-faced and all, Daphne, a blonde girl with a cute smile, and Blaise, a dark-skinned boy with high cheekbones.
Pansy and Daphne were both pretty, though the latter more so, but they weren't Rebekah. Draco and Blaise were both handsome, surely ladykillers when they have grown, but they didn't hold what Rebekah wanted. Though they all would be extremely useful.
"Hello," Rebekah wiggled her fingers in a small gesture that could be seen as a wave. "Pleasant to meet you all. I suppose you all are Purebloods and going to be Slytherins, correct?"
"Of course," Daphne said. "Purest house. So who are you then?"
"Before I introduce myself, two good news and one bad." Rebekah smiled, showing her upper canines. "First good news, I know that I will achieve great things in Slytherin. Bad news, I am a Halfblood."
Pansy scoffed lightly, Blaise sneered a little but Daphne stayed neutral and asked, "You have only told us two things. What's the other good news?"
"Well, I think my heritage outshine my Muggle-born mother's blood," Rebekah spoke without giving anything away but her smugness. "After all, who would go against and badmouth a Potter?"
Rebekah chuckled at their expressions of confusion, understanding and shock.
"Really?!"
"Rebekah Potter," She nodded her head in a small bow, her lips tugged into a smug smile. "At your service, well…"
They didn't hear her muttered words, "You'll be at my service, soon enough."
Soon enough, when the trip was halfway done, The small group of five donned their uniforms. Rebekah changed into a fitted white shirt tucked into a fitted and pleated black skirt. She fasted her plain tie on, slipping her matte black oxford shoes and shrugging the plain black robe on. Her hair was pulled into a clean and perfectly messy top bun. Her wand was in her right sleeve, tucked into a tiny compartment that hid it.
"Is it true?" Draco said. The group of four, Blaise decided to stay back, decided to see what the fuss was near the middle of the train. "We've got Blood traitors with us?
"My name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." The ginger coughed, hiding a snigger. Draco looked at him. " No need to ask who you are. Father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford." He said that last bit to Rebekah as she came into view.
"Potter, Rebekah,"
The ginger said, gapping his mouth, "Ronald Weasley, you can call me Ron, 'Bekah."
She scoffed. "No one said you could call me by that, most importantly I didn't say. You can call me Potter instead. We aren't friends."
The group sniggered at his expression,
The disgusting little rodent decided to come from Weasley's arms, scurrying closer to Rebekah. She shrieked in disgust. "That thing is revolting. Emperor, don't touch it."
But it was too late, Emperor had the wretched thing between his claws and pulled it closer to his mouth. Rebekah shouted at him to put it down, or he'd get ill from whatever disease it carried. Emperor meowed loudly, twice hissing and then flicked the mutilated creature into the compartment window.
The group left that compartment and reached theirs by the time a voiced echoed: "We will be reaching Hogwarts within five minutes, leave all belongings and pets in the train, they will be transported separately."
The large group of first years, perhaps forty eleven-year-olds shuffled their way down a narrow and dark path, down to eleven boats that sat on a beautiful lake. They were hurried on, four to a boat, though Rebekah sat with Draco and Emperor in a boat. The boats swayed their way on the smooth, glass-like lake, towards the cliff that held Hogwarts.
Rebekah glided a hand over the crisp waters, feeling the life under the blue-hued lake. Something twirled around her hand as she dipped it further in, almost slimy but yet smooth and soft. When the touching stopped, she pulled her hand out and waved the water off. The touch wasn't unpleasant but slightly unnerving.
They filed off the boats, Emperor shrunk down to the size of a kitten and climbed into her hood, refusing to be left behind. The group of eleven-year-old scrambled up a passageway, coming onto smooth, damp grass in the shadows of the castle. They came up a flight of stone steps, crowding around the large oak door.
Three long knocks at the door, it flew open to reveal a stern looking, black-haired witch in jade robes. She opened another door to the entrance hall, large enough to hold the Dursleys' house. The forty children were sent down and into a small side chamber, to prepare themselves and await their allowance into the Great Hall.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin soon before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is an important ceremony because your House will be like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.
"The Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours.
"The sorting ceremony will start soon, smarten yourselves up and then it will begin."
About a dozen ghosts decided to appear, startling the young students. There was a plump one, one was a monk, one had ruffles and tights, and one was headless with his head tied to his neck by a thread of flesh.
"Move along now," Professor McGonagall's sharp voice said, guiding them towards the entrance. "Form a line, and follow me."
Draco led Rebekah into the line with a head jolt, Blaise stood in front of Draco with Pansy in front. Daphne followed behind Rebekah.
"Hey, it will be alright," Daphne said, noticing the slightly worried look on her face. "They will place a hat on our heads and it will shout out the house, then we join them and they congratulated us."
"We don't get told much, do we?" Rebekah nodded before adding, "They should have told us more than what the letter had told. I did not even know that Hogwarts existed before a month ago. I am just nervous and a bit annoyed, I really like being informed of things."
"Understandable, I knew about Magic and Hogwarts since I was young," Daphne said, Draco nodded from in front as they came to the end. "I think the sorting is about to begin."
And Daphne was right, the sorting began with the hat singing, which Rebekah ignored its awful tune. It was a minute or so long, telling the ancient tales of Hogwarts' history.
"When your name is called, you will sit on the stool and put on the hat, it will sort you into your house," McGonagall began and then she called out the first name. "Abbott, Hannah!"
A girl came out of the crowd, Rebekah's eyes trailed her as she sat on the stool and was sorted. "Hufflepuff!"
Rebekah continued talking with Daphne and Pansy, that was until Daphne Greengrass was called up and sorted. Pansy would be sorted just before Rebekah, Pansy's name was before hers. Daphne was sorted into Slytherin, along with Draco, a Theodore Nott, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.
"Wish me luck," Pansy said as she was called.
"You won't need it," Rebekah giggled lightly. "I'll be there in a few moments."
Pansy Parkinson was sorted into Slytherin, a round of small applause from the school. Whispers ensured when Rebekah Potter was called.
"Potter, did she say?" Whispered the student body, "The Rebekah Potter?"
Rebekah didn't stumble, trip or falter in her steps as she came and sat on the stool, her back like an iron rod. The sorting hat almost hummed on her head, silent for a moment and then yelled, "SLYTHERIN!" as loud as it could.
The Slytherin table clapped the loudest, huge and menacing grins aimed for the Gryffindors. She came to sit between an older year who clapped her on the shoulder, and Daphne, Pansy across from her.
"Let them think what they want," The older year said, "Adrian Pucey. They'll rethink that when you show 'em that you can."
"Well, of course, and I haven't even started," Rebekah said. "Rebekah Potter. Pleasure, I'm sure."
"Dumbledore's about to do his thing again," An older girl nudged Pucey, snorting slightly and Pucey joined her.
"Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!" Dumbledore said, his beard placed over his shoulder. "Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
"Is he normally this strange?" Rebekah asked the older girl, Rachel Zimmer.
"He's a Gryffindor lover, he will do anything to help them. He's not right in the head," She nodded, scowling at the tips of her grin. "Go on and eat now."
Dozens of different fruit bowls, loaves of bread, meat and poultry appeared before Rebekah's eyes. Golden plates, knives, forks and spoons glistened with mouthwatering food.
It wasn't like the Dursleys didn't feed her, in fact, she ate handsomely in their home. They allowed her any meal, cooking for her and allowing her to use the kitchen. No meat touched her plate, something she refused to eat was meat, meat and mushrooms. Hells below, she hated mushrooms.
Her golden plate held seven fruits: strawberries, raspberries, blackberries, peaches, apples, oranges, and pomegranates. Dark bread placed against the bottom of a small dish of cream. Rebekah didn't realise she was this hungry, yet her stomach was upset and the castle knew. She sent a silent thank you to Hogwarts and then began eating.
Her robes, the once grey and white areas including the Hogwarts crest, had hints of green hems and the crest turned to a snake's coat of arms. Snakes? how appropriate, She almost chuckled.
The Slytherin common room was precisely decorated between Edwardian, Victorian and Gothic feels. Two large windows sat on the wall behind the large and roaring fireplace, allowing the Slytherins to look into the Black Lake where the mermaids swam. The floor was dark, smooth spider-marble, allowing the students to walk barefoot if they desired. Gaslights floated around the room, some sticking to the students that studied or read. The twin pale-green leather sofas, both facing each other and looking onto the pale wood coffee-table between them. The fireplace crackled and shed light onto the green-hued common room.
Gemma Farley, as the prefect that led the girls to their dorms introduced herself, didn't mention that they would have their own dorm rooms. It wasn't bad, Rebekah was grateful for it, but it was unexpected by the students.
First thing Rebekah saw was the four-poster bed draped in emerald curtains, a bedside table on each side in sleek grey wood. Two sofas and a coffee table sat before the large circular wall that was in one corner, the waters below the lake in view. A fireplace across from the bed, twin wooden bookcases sat next to the wall of the fireplace. Two other doors lead to a bathroom, extremely large shower and bath, and a walk-in wardrobe.
Plenty of space for four people, but Rebekah was delighted to not have to share. She found that Daphne and Pansy, and Millicent Bulstrode and Tracy Davis, two girls she hadn't met, all had similar rooms but each had a slight difference. Daphne had a view over the lake with a canvas and paints, and Pansy had a piano that sat in a corner.
Each room was designed for the person that stayed, of course by Magic, and by the size of Hogwarts, the castle had plenty of options. Rebekah wouldn't complain, especially since Emperor found his extremely large cat bed under hers. He wouldn't be tempted to sleep on her bed then.
It was late, Rebekah yawned and decided it was time to go to bed. She checked her room again, finding the hamper. The glass that looked into the water turned opaque, allowing her to undress in peace. She stripped, pulled on shorts and a tank top, shuffling into her covers.
She laid her head down, and sighed loudly, "Are you kidding me, Emperor?"
His Cheshire grin adorned his face, his tail swaying his fur against her cheek.
"All right, okay," She moved her body to the side, turning to her right. "Get in here then, or I'll make you sleep in your own bed. Now sleep."
Emperor, in his form that replicated a normal cat's, stood up and came over to the little gap. He pawed the area, shoving a piece of her covers over, and then laid down with his head resting on her arm.
By the morning, Emperor transformed into his extra large form, keeping his mistress warm as she pushed the covers off in her sleep. She curled up in the middle, Emperor draped her form and snuggled her awake, just before licking her face to the waking world.
Seven o'clock in the morning, an hour before breakfast was to be served, and he was hungry.