"Why do you want to become an Animagus so young, Miss Potter?" McGonagall asked, giving her a very firm look but it didn't make the young Witch falter.
"Why not, professor? I have already looked into the Animagus Potion and I am prepared to do whatever it takes to become my animal, whatever it is," Rebekah shrugged. "When did my father try and become one?"
She sighed, thinking back many years. "I believe it was in his Second year, actually. We had a sudden depletion of Mandrake leaves that year, and two years after that. It wasn't until the fifth year that they had been able to actually transform successfully."
"Why was that?"
"The Mandrake leaves, the group stayed silent for several months because they couldn't talk very well with them in their mouths. Gave us some peace though," McGonagall huffed in her past amusement. "Then they had to get dew, completely undisturbed. And then they had to wait for a lightning storm and they didn't have all of that sorted until their Fifth year."
"That is a lot to do," Rebekah said. "Can I ask how old you were when you became one, ma'am?"
"Oh, I was in my Sixth year when Headmaster Dumbledore," A smile laced itself onto her lips but then curved down cautiously. "If you do decide to become an Animagus, I do hope you ask either myself or Professor Snape to be there when you first transform. The experience can be very unpleasant and disorienting. You will not know what form you would get and you might react aggressively."
"Never thought of that, the book didn't hint at that at all," Rebekah said.
"When will you replace the book?"
"I already have, I made myself a copy,"
"Good, one of the Seventh year Hufflepuffs wants to become an Animagus," someone outside of the office was running and yelling about food. "Excuse me, I do believe Fourth years have found the way to the kitchens."
By the morning, the whole school was covered in snow from the blizzard from last night. Their last Herbology lesson was cancelled and Professor Sprout trusted no one to care for the young Mandrakes, they were desperately needed for the petrified students.
Rebekah was going to try and find Justin Finch-Fletchley, she wanted to make sure that he understood that she didn't try and attack him. She didn't need those rumours circulating around too. She found the usual group Finch-Fletchley was with, hiding at the back of the library,
"I told Justin to hide up in our dormitory," A stout boy said. "If Potter's marked him down as her next victim, it's best if he keeps a low profile. Justin's been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he said to Potter that he was Muggle-born. Justin actually told her he'd been down for Eton. That's not the kind of thing you bandy about with Slytherin's heir on the loose, is it?"
"You definitely think it is Potter, then, Ernie?" The girl next to him said, flicking a pigtail away from her face.
"Hannah!" Ernest Macmillan, as Rebekah recognised the boy as, jerked his head.
''She's a Parselmouth. Everyone knows that's the mark of a Dark Wizard. Have you ever heard of a decent one who could talk to snakes? They called Slytherin himself Serpent-tongue, and it's no surprise that she's in Slytherin, is it? Remember what was written on the wall? Enemies of the Heir, Beware. Potter had some sort of run-in with Filch. Next thing we know, Filch's cat's attacked. That first year, Creevey was annoying Potter at the Quidditch match, taking pictures of her while she tried to get her arm fixed. Next thing we know — Creevey's been attacked."
"She's been so nice when she wasn't with her friends usually," Hannah Abbot said. "Well, she can't be all bad, can she? She's the one who made You-Know-Who disappear. "
Macmillian leant forward and lowered his voice, a sneer in his tone.
"No one knows how she survived that attack by You-Know-Who. I mean to say, she was only a baby when it happened. Only a really powerful Dark Witch could have survived a curse like that—" He slammed his hand against the table, "—That's probably why You-Know-Who wanted to kill her in the first place. Didn't want another Dark Lord competing with him. I wonder what other powers Potter's been hiding?"
"I wonder what other powers I've been hiding?" Rebekah suddenly cleared her throat and made the Hufflepuffs jump, looking like they had seen the monster themselves. She came closer to Macmillian and bent closer, placing her hands on the table as she glared. "Now listen carefully. I was the only thing that kept the snake away from him, I did not tell it to attack him. I have no quarrels with MuggleBorns. If anything, you would have more problems with them than I would myself. I suggest you tell Finch-Fletchley and everyone else that I am not the one who opened the Chamber. I don't want to hear any more false rumours about myself, got it?"
They nodded fractally and colour returned to their faces.
"Good," Rebekah said cheerfully and left.
Rebekah casually made her way through the corridor, taking a moment to take in Hagrid's large and snow-covered moleskin overcoat.
"Oh, hiya, Hagrid," Rebekah smiled as she looked up at the dead rooster hanging from one of his massive, gloved hands.
"All righ', 'Bekah?" He said and pulled the balaclava away from his mouth. "Why aren't yeh in class?"
"They're cancelled," Rebekah said. "Whatcha got there, a chicken?"
"Second rooster killed this term," he explained. "It's either foxes or a Blood-Suckin' Bugbear, an' I need the headmaster's permission ter put a charm around the hen coop."
"Poor things," Rebekah pouted. "I hope you find whatever is killing them."
They parted ways and Rebekah started going upstairs, she wanted to see Myrtle before the end of term holiday began. She began the trek between the corridors until she stumbled over something in a dark corridor. She almost swore.
Cold, rigid and completely petrified, Justin Finch-Fletchley laid on the group with a shocked expression. Nearly Headless Nick laid next to him, hovering half a dozen inches off the ground. He was no longer transparent or white, his whole form had turned black and smoky, like a shadow.
Rebekah's breathing became constricted as she watched their unmoving forms. She stepped away from the path of racing spiders, grimacing at their presence. Hearing the muffled teachers speaking from either side, she debated getting help. She didn't want to be blamed but she couldn't leave them here alone.
Would anyone believe she didn't have anything to do with this?
The door next to her opened, Peeves came out wearing the most festive outfit she had ever seen and yet the grim expression on his face didn't match. He drew his eyes from Sir Nicholas and brought them up to Rebekah's emotionless ones.
"You—you didn't do this, did you, Potta?" He stuttered as his hovering form shook with nerves.
"No, no, Peeves," She shook her head, her hair falling into her face a little. "I didn't. I found them like this. Can you call someone?"
"ATTACK! THERE'S BEEN ANOTHER ATTACK! COME QUICK!" He shouted and every single door in the corridor opened as the teachers and students raced out.
She was pinned to one of the walls as the students rushed out, wanting to know who got petrified. She pushed tears down and quickly found herself calming down. McGonagall was followed by her class as she ran to the middle, setting off a bang to restore silence and get everyone back to their lessons.
Ernest Macmillian arrived and panting and pointing a finger at Rebekah. "Caught in the act!"
Rebekah wanted to snap his finger off.
"That will do, Macmillan!" McGonagall said sharply.
Peeves bobbed overhead as the teachers bent over Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, examining them. Flitwick and Sinistra of the Astronomy class brought Finch-Fletchley back to the Hospital Wing. Macmillian left with them, leaving Rebekah and McGonagall.
"This way, Miss Potter," She said, gesturing to follow.
"Potta didn't do it! Didn't do it!" Peeves said, bobbing in the air as he waved his hands.
"This is out of my hands, Peeves."
They marched around a corner and found themselves before a large stone gargoyle, Rebekah remembered that this was Dumbledore's office. McGonagall said the password and quickly stepped onto the spiral staircase as it extended upwards to the door at the top.
The circular room was large with the walls covered with the Headmasters and Headmistresses of the past. They snoozed as numerous silver instruments made a funny sound near the claw-footed desk.
"Oh, Fawkes," Rebekah said as she watched the Phoenix nearing his death. The last few feathers fell off and the bird went up in flames, the heat barely registered on Rebekah's face as she was a little too close. She kept watching as she heard Dumbledore enter and clear his throat. "Hello, sir. I'm just watching Fawkes."
In the ashes, a newborn chickling poked its head out, just as ugly as the dying bird before.
Dumbledore seated himself behind his desk. "Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, their tears have healing powers, and they make highly faithful pets."
Rebekah sat down in the chair and rested her chin on her knuckles, jumping when Hagrid came rushing in.
"It wasn' Rebekah, Professor Dumbledore!" Hagrid waved his hand with the limp rooster. "I was talkin' ter her seconds before that boy was found, she never had time, sir. It can't've bin her, I'll swear it in front of' the Ministry of' Magic if I have to —"
"Hagrid, I —" Dumbledore tried to get a word in but Hagrid interrupted him again.
"— yeh've got the wrong girl, sir, I know 'Bekah never —"
"Hagrid!" Dumbledore said, finally silencing the half-Giant, "I do not think that Rebekah would attack those people."
"Oh," Hagrid blushed lightly in embarrassment. "Right. I'll wait outside then, Headmaster."
"Do you believe that it was me, sir?" Rebekah asked as Dumbledore brushed the rooster feathers off of his desk.
"No, no. I don't, but I still want to talk to you," Dumbledore then said softly, "I must ask you, however, if there is anything you would like to tell me. Anything at all."
Rebekah paused for a moment and went through the pros and cons of telling him. She would say the little it would take to make him happy.
"Nothing much, sir," She said, shrugging. "But Fidele, that is what the snake I have is forcing me to call him, has been going around the castle. He keeps hearing the voice but he can never actually communicate with it."
"Oh," He said, suspiciously. "What has the voice been saying?"
"Kill this, blood that. It hasn't changed."
"Hmm. Are you spending Christmas here?"
"No, I'm heading home for the holidays,"
"Are you treated well?"
"Yes," was Rebekah's curt response and she was dismissed as there wasn't anything else to say.