AN: I got my first hate review yesterday. Rebekah got called a dumb bimbo and that just made me burst out in laughter. The person didn't even login so I can't ask them what they meant by that. They hadn't even read the second chapter before they came to that conclusion. I don't know why I found it so funny.
Rebekah sat between Zastiti and Harmoni, the heads cuddled her form as they watched Hagrid feed the nearby Thestrals. The mated pair from last year ate their lunch as the filly trotted over to Rebekah and sat by her legs. She hasn't grown much since the last time Rebekah saw her, she still fit in Rebekah's lap comfortably.
She named the foal Tatia, the little Thestral sneezed into her face again.
She wrote in her copy of Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them. There wasn't a proper page for Thestrals, only a paragraph or so about them. Rebekah took several pages of notes and used a spell to attach the pages to her copy. She added a whole new section for HellHounds with three heads, and for Bakenekos.
Hagrid took the mangled piece of meat and chucked it high at one of the Thestrals, Tenebrus as Hagrid called him. He was one of Hagrid's favourites and always came running when he called. He didn't really like Rebekah but he tolerated her in his herd. He took on a leadership role in the herd, only coming second to his father. His father loved Rebekah, he was the father of little Tatia in her lap.
They were deep in the Forbidden Forest. Rebekah remembered the way. It would take several minutes to walk back to the edge and the trek wasn't very difficult but it wasn't easy either. She was glad she wore her boots, she would have twisted her ankle otherwise.
"Are you hungry, Tatia?" Rebekah asked the foal as she kept glancing back to Hagrid as he threw the meat. Somehow Rebekah knew the answer. "Hagrid, can you pass me a bit of meat?"
"Sure, careful now," Hagrid said and gently chucked the slab of flesh. "Careful now, her fangs are comin' through."
"Are they?" Rebekah said and Tatia opened her mouth, proudly showing off her sharp teeth. "How old is she, Hagrid?"
"'Bout three years in January," He scratched his nose with the back of his hand. "Yeh see, horses age a year on January the firs'. I go by that'."
"Aw," Rebekah watched Tatia tear the flesh out of her hand. "You're only a filly."
"She'll be matured by '94, maybe '95. It'll depend on 'er growth," Hagrid suddenly threw his satchel off his shoulders. "Done. Are we alright' to go back teh Hogwarts, Rebekah?"
"Yeah," Rebekah stood up from confinements of the HellHound's body. She patted and rubbed his upper chest when they all whined in protest. "I promise to come back. I'll visit next weekend, okay? Or maybe some point this week."
"We'll have teh get him registered at the Ministry," Hagrid grumbled as they walked back. "Dumbledore said we have teh. It'll mean he'll be protected by law if anything were teh happen."
"Really? I hope we get to keep him, I'd miss Tercet too much otherwise," Rebekah named the HellHound Tercet but named each head separately too. They had different personalities and couldn't be defined by just one name.
After dark, Rebekah pulled the Invisibility Cloak over her shoulders and made her way through the castle. She wore it like a cape and thrusted her head under it as she saw Prefects and Professors alike patrol the halls. With a copper lantern in her hand, Rebekah walked the length of the castle in a weary and endless trance.
The ceilings were high, lined sparsely by glittering candle flames. The intricate detailing designs of the trims lining the borders, matching the frames of all the sleeping portraits on the walls. She walked down the open passages around the entrance area, finding it surprising that not a single leaf or fragment of dirt or dust was on the cobblestones.
She had a habit of walking barefoot at school. Never finding a need for shoes when the floors were as clean as anything. When she was barefoot and wandering, it felt like she could feel Hogwarts' Magic, her presence with each step strengthening. Rebekah felt like she had eyes on her at all times when wandering but she wasn't concerned. She knew the difference between the eyes of the Wizards and Witches, and the eyes of Hogwarts.
Rebekah allowed the stairs to take her where they willed, she had no destination in mind. She wanted some peace as she walked down the first floor. The corridor had no windows but the sparse lighting from her lantern was enough. Something compelled her to walk down the corridor, and then once again to go into a room.
It was the girls' bathroom. A dozen stalls line two walls with a huge, chipped mirror above half a dozen old sinks. The floor was wet but Rebekah knew it was clean. This place looked as if no one had used it in a few decades. The candles by the sinks suddenly flared and a pair of thick glass and narrowed eyes appeared.
"Who are you?" The Ghost suddenly drew away from Rebekah's face, allowing her to get a good look. The Ghost was young, perhaps the same age as her, with circular glasses and a Ravenclaw uniform.
"I'm Rebekah Potter," She said, smiling pleasantly at her. "And you are?"
"Myrtle Warren, but everyone calls me Moaning Myrtle because they can't think of anything clever," The Ghost said quickly.
"Well, which do you prefer? I wouldn't want to offend you in any way," Rebekah said, watching the Ghost's face that was wrinkled with distaste soften.
"Myrtle," She said very faintly, her body language turning soft and calm. "I'd prefer it if you called me Myrtle."
"I'd like it if you would call me Rebekah," She walked across the bathroom to the mirror. She shifted the cloak off and used it as a blanket as she sat down on a bit of dry stone. "Were you a student, Myrtle? I see that you were a Ravenclaw but your uniform is different from mine."
Myrtle nodded, dramatically sitting down next to Rebekah and placed her hands in her lap. "I was a student before I died. Oh, that was years ago. What year is it now?"
"It's September 1992," Rebekah said carefully as she drew the cloak closer for warmth.
"It's almost been half a century since I was killed," Myrtle said mostly to herself.
"Can I ask what happened?"
"Oh, it was so very dreadful." Myrtle floated and began to twirl in the air slowly. "I came in here because Olive Hornby was making fun about me because of my glasses. I locked the door and started crying. Somebody came in and started talking funny. I didn't understand it but I think it was a different language. It was too much like a hiss. I unlocked the door because I thought the speaker was a boy, and you know this is the girls' bathroom, so I was going to tell him to go away and go to his own toilet. I never got to because I died."
"That's so sad. I don't see how anyone would want to kill you," Rebekah said, hoping to appease the Ghost and her sour temper.
"Nor did I!" Myrtle almost screamed and made Rebekah flinch. "I do believe it was Hornby still. She just had to go to the Ministry and stop me haunting her. Because of that, I had nowhere else to go so I'm staying at Hogwarts, haunting this bathroom. I do love scaring the firsties when they come in here."
"Does no one come in here?" Rebekah said, gesturing to the bathroom. "It looks like it hasn't been used in years."
"No, no. No one comes in here anymore, they hate seeing me," Myrtle said, a mischievous grin on her face. "Not that I care, the less they see me, the less they throw books at me. Even if I can't physically feel it, it still hurts my feelings."
A low tone of the school's clock signified it was well past curfew.
"Oh, I think you need to go to bed, Rebekah," Myrtle said when Rebekah started yawning. "I do hope you come visit sometimes. It gets very lonely here, all by myself."
"Of course, I'll visit whenever I can. I'm gonna head back," Rebekah said, fully knowing that she was going to explore the dungeons before going to bed.
She pulled the cloak over her head and began wandering the dungeons.
Come….
Come to me….
Let me rip you….
Let me tear you….
Let me kill you….
Rebekah knew the language. It naturally spilt from her lips without hesitation.
"Kill? Kill who?" Rebekah hissed to the silent corridor. No sound, no voice, just silence. She slipped her head out and tried again. She did this a couple more times but no response. Rebekah shuddered as something washed over her but she tried again, and again, and again. She was determined to figure this out.
"Rebekah Potter," Snape's voice came from behind her. She cringed and turned around, a sheepish smile on her face as she pulled the cloak completely off. "What time do you call this?"
"Very, very early morning?" Rebekah's smile dropped as she saw Snape's dark eyes. "Fine. I couldn't sleep and I've had a horrible day."
"I know, Hagrid has told me," Snape uncrossed his arms. "Come. You will feel better if you talk about it, or hex a dummy."
"Hmm, Hexing something sounds good," Rebekah followed him into his office, sitting on one of the tables as he took out a potion or two out.
"I suppose you will not be sleeping?" He said.
"I will, just not any time soon. Sir…." Rebekah fidgeted, her mind reeled back to the voice. "I had a voice in the corridor before you came. How did you know I was out anyway?"
"Emperor came to my chambers and somehow got in," Snape glanced at the Familiar who sat on his desk, flicking his tail sheepishly. "He refused to leave until I said I would follow him. He led me straight to you and then disappeared into your shadow. Is this a normal occurrence?"
"The shadow thing? Yeah, he does it a lot when he doesn't want to walk. Lazy git."
"The voice you heard, Miss Potter? What was that about?"
"I heard a voice say that they wanted to kill someone. They didn't care who. It wasn't in English, it was like a snake's hiss but I understood it. I replied!"
"Can you speak to snakes?" He asked and was shocked when she nodded. "Dear Merlin."
"What?"
"We will have to inform Dumbledore about it,"
"Why does he have to know?"
"The only ones that have the ability to speak to snakes are the descendants of Salazar Slytherin. " He stifled a flinch at a certain thought."It is of utmost importance that we tell Dumbledore, it was a close call last year." He paused and sent out a Patronus, Rebekah learned of them last month. "At ten o'clock, meet me by the Headmaster's office. Please take a Dreamless Potion and try to get some sleep."
Now she had to research how she was connected to Salazar Slytherin. She would go through Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy.
She had read the Riddle name before.
The informal meeting with Dumbledore was alright. Rebekah pulled on a robe over her Muggle clothes and went to it, expecting everything to go badly but it didn't. Though Rebekah learnt very little, she knew more than she did before.
Dumbledore finally started to admit things. "Tom Marvolo Riddle is a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, he is also a Parselmouth. He is He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. He gave you the scar, Miss Potter. I am concerned now that you've shown an aptitude for Parseltongue."
"Is that the hissing language I know?" Rebekah said.
"Yes, I believe you are a Parselmouth. However, I would like to confirm it," Dumbdlore looked around his large office and pointed to one with a large Ball Python sitting in a grass nest. "Try speaking to this one, Rebekah."
"Hello," Rebekah hissed calmly.
The snake jumped from its laying position and looked around frantically. "Are you speaking to me, young miss?"
"I am, I want to know if I am actually a Parselmouth,"
"Yes, Yes. You are one, young miss."
Rebekah nodded and smiled at the snake curling up. She reverted back to English. "Is that enough proof?"
"Merlin's pants!" Snape swore under his breath quietly. "Just great."
"Rebekah, you're dismissed. Being a Parselmouth isn't something to be ashamed of, but be careful with those who know."
"Yeah. Of course, sir."
Rebekah was quite startled by what occurred in the last five minutes. She found out who Voldemort was before he changed it to the stupid French name.
Flight of Death, really?