Chapter 93

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The three of them were Portkey'ed to Dumbledore's office where the large windows behind the desk were showing the cool line of pale green that was the new coming dawn approaching.

They sat in the chairs before Dumbeldore's desk, waiting for the old man to get back.

Emperor sat in her lap, small and fluffy as he allowed her to run her fingers absently through his fur as she thought. He batted her hand every time her mind wandered off and she stopped paying attention, getting it and her back to the duty at hand; his belly rubs.

Her emotions were hotwired and yet dulled to being barely recognisable between happiness and sadness, calmness and anger. There was very little to go on for her.

A red nosed Wizard was painted behind Dumbledore's desk, portraying him on a throne-like chair as he leaned forward to observe the three in the office. "Is Dumbledore arriving soon? He has sent you here, hasn't he?"

Remus nodded. "He shouldn't be long now, just fixing some things at the Ministry."

"You," The Wizard said, pointing at Rebekah with a long finger before smiling. "You're Potter, aren't you? Dumbledore thinks highly of you, young lady. He holds you in great esteem, says you're as brilliant as you are dangerous, though I doubt the latter is true."

Sirius smirked, rubbing a hand down his neck smugly. "I assure you she's as dangerous as Dumbledore says she is. As bright as the sun and just as deadly if you come too close to her loved ones."

Emperor swished his tail in agreement as Rebekah didn't acknowledge the conversation.

"Especially that mangy cat of hers," Sirius said, sticking his tongue out at Emperor as the feline bared his teeth in a mock snarl.

The empty fireplace burst into emerald-green flames, revealing Dumbledore as he walked forward into the office.

He regarded them for a moment before sitting behind the desk quietly for a moment before he actually spoke. "All of your fellow students returned safely. Miss Weasley is in the infirmary for her ankle but she will recover. Have you spoken to your group yet?"

"No," Rebekah said, the first time she spoke since she got into the office. "They'll keep what happened to themselves until I come, but the Crown will be informed by the others. I don't want the Court knowing until we've discussed what happened."

"Crown? Court?" Sirius asked. "Who are they?"

"My group," Rebekah said, exposing her watch which now sat on her left wrist instead of her bracelet which was moved to her right. "Because Umbridge wasn't teaching us anything in defense, we took it in our own hands and started a group. The larger group is the Court, we all wear the watches in various styles so we can make meetings and tell everyone in the larger group."

"And Crown?"

Rebekah rubbed her wrists, telling her Magic that she wanted the cuffs to be visible to everyone. The coloured skin warmed in response, letting it be seen by others instead of just those who matched.

The tattooed purple colour was just as vivid as it was a couple hours ago, encasing her wrists in it like something she always had. The colour started from about an inch below her palm, going down three inches before fading into her natural skin colour.

"It's like a loyalty spell, creating a bond between my friends and I." She said, tracing a thumb down one of the tattooed cuffs. "It's unbreakable. Only nine of us have this, only the people I trust."

"All of the friends that came to the Dursleys," Sirius said, realising it. "You wouldn't put the Dursleys under any danger so you only brought those you trusted. How did they know about Grimmauld Place?"

"Anything I know, they can know," Rebekah said. "This ritual overrides the Fidelius Charm, but only to each other, we can't tell anyone else about the location. They can't tell their families anything that would harm any of us without us all agreeing beforehand."

"Good," Dumbledore said.

"You knew?" Remus turned to him, suddenly angry. "You allowed her to bind herself to someone without telling her what would happen?"

"He didn't allow me," Rebekah spat out. "I did it and I knew what was happening. We did it after Voldemort was resurrected last year."

"Do you know what will happen if one of you dies?"

"If one of us dies, the others will know."

"A war is brewing, Rebekah, was this a smart decision?"

Rebekah rolled her eyes. "Yes! Plans and plots are being carved and I need to know I can rely on them without fearing they will betray me. I can't betray them and they can't betray me. We all know the consequences and we agreed to them."

"And if Voldemort finds out that you are bound to them? He won't hesitate to kill them to get to you, and he won't hesitate to torture them to get information."

"He can't."

"He will, Rebekah."

"No, I mean he can't get information out of them even if he tortures them. We are bound to be loyal to each other and that means we look after each other. Even Legilimens like Dumbledore and Snape couldn't find out anything because the Bond protects it." Rebekah shrugged. "Can we change the topic now?"

Remus didn't look happy but he wasn't angry now, just slumped back in his seat with a dismissive wave.

"How are you feeling, Rebekah?" Dumbledore asked, his voice soft and quiet.

She just shrugged the question off. "Alright, why?"

"You pushed Charlotte Travers into Veil. She can't come back from there but you knew that," He said. "You knew it would somehow get rid of her or kill her in other words, and you still did it because it was convenient and would leave you with the prophecy."

"Easiest way to get rid of her without getting her blood on my hands."

"You already have blood on your hands from her, however."

Remus and Sirius looked concerned by this but not very surprised.

Sirius sighed. "What did you do, Cub?"

"She was being annoying and decided to try and bully me," She said. "And I had enough. Had her duel me and carved a couple words into her arm to mentally scar her from ever bothering me again. Voldemort saw it, evidently my memory spells need work, and reversed it."

Sirius tried to stifle a laugh. "She's as bad as we were, Remus."

"Yeah," Remus sighed in memory. "We weren't the best people back then."

"Do you feel any remorse for her or for torturing Bellatrix Lestrange?" Dumbledore asked, turning back to Rebekah who just shrugged again. "There is no shame in what you are feeling, Rebekah. On the contrary, the fact that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength."

"Pain?" She questioned it. "My greatest strength is feeling pain? I'm not feeling pain, not remorse for her death or for torturing Lestrange."

"What did you feel when both situations happened?"

Hot anger licked her insides, a buzzing in her head as the desire to let Dumbledore feel the unsettledness she felt was becoming overwhelming.

"I don't want to talk about how I feel."

"This pain you feel because you killed Travers is a part of being human—"

"To feel remorse for killing her is different to feeling pain for doing it," Rebekah spat.

"What do you mean?"

"I have no guilt for killing her, hell, I had no guilt when I tortured her a few years ago!" Rebekah laughed like it was a hilarious joke and she was the only one that knew it. "If feeling pain for doing it is being human, then I don't want to be human! She deserved it! She had it coming for years! Bellatrix Lestrange also deserves the pain because she dared to hurt my GodFather. No one gets to hurt my family without consequences."

"Be that as it may," Dumbledore said. "You cannot hurt everyone who has hurt you or someone you care for."

"Why can't I?" Rebekah tilted her head, a ray of anger in her eyes as she narrowed them an inch. "As long as I'm not caught, I don't see a problem. I'm not the poster girl for good, now am I? I'm a Slytherin with Slytherin friends, people have been telling me I've ruined the Potter name for being who I am. And the prophecy, what's that about me being marked? Is this scar a forever reminder that my parents are dead because a mad man has decided that I'm the Monarch and he the Lord? Voldemort has been on my back since I came to this dreaded school, trying to kill me one way or another. Sirius has been in Azkaban for twelve years. Twelve years where I didn't know my GodFather, and Remus thought that Sirius was a mass murderer! With something as simple as a memory charm, you could have cleared his name but you didn't!"

Rebekah slumped in her seat as soon as she finished her rant.

"You've got no standing on how I act," Rebekah slowed her anger. "Now tell me about this mark he gave me."

"That scar," He gestured to the one going down her neck to her shoulder and down her bicep, "has forged a connection between you and Voldemort. It gives you warning when Voldemort was close to you, or else feeling powerful emotion. Has it become more pronounced since he has returned to his own body and his full power?"

"Only a little bit more noticable," She said. "Voldemort knows there is a connection between him and I. When he was speaking to one of his followers and he was angry, I was there while I slept. He could see me and speak to me but no one else knew I was there. It was like I was a ghost only he could see and he hates it."

"Has the Occlumency lessons Professor Snape bestowed onto you not worked?"

"Being able to see what Voldemort is up to is beneficial," Rebekah nodded once stiffly. "Every night for the last few years, I've been dreaming of Tom Riddle as you knew him while he attended school. Young Tom from age eleven to twenty where he is now, I've met him in a dreamscape where I could have a conversation with him and get information."

"Cub, can you be sure that you're not talking to Voldemort himself?"

"He's a memory. Remember second year, Sir?" Dumbledore nodded. "Ginny Weasley was given a Diary and she wrote in it, soon enough becoming possessed by a portion of Tom Riddle. His memory was in the Diary and when I destroyed it, I gained the dreamscape where I spoke to him. He grows as I do, but the Time Turner use has distorted his age to make him older. He only knows what the real Tom Riddle would know at whatever age he was."

"I know for a fact that you've been in the Restricted Area, Rebekah," Dumbledore watched Sirius nudge Rebekah with a wink, shaking his head a little at it as Remus had to quickly hide his growing smile in his hands. "I believe there is a book of Dark nature that you've probably read. Magick Moste Evile by Godelot."

She nodded. "I read that last year in preparation for the Trials."

"Have you heard of Horcruxes?"

"There was only a brief mention of Horcruxes because even Dark Witches and Wizards are repelled by the idea." Rebekah said. "A Horcrux is the word used for an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul. Are you trying to say that you believe that Voldemort split his soul?"

"Yes," He said assertively. "I've had theories that Tom Riddle was doing all he could to find out how to make himself immortal. The phenomenon you've described with going within the Diary and seeing a memory has added to my belief. A mere memory starting to act and think for itself sounds very far-fetched, even by Magical means."

"You think that the memory I saw was actually a part of his soul, having his memories and using his little portion of a soul to start manipulating Ginny?" Rebekah said. "It sounds far-fetched but it is more probable than a memory being able to do it."

"A fragment of Voldemort's soul could have been placed in the Diary," Dumbledore said. "Retaining his personality and ambitions. Though I doubt the Diary was supposed to land in Ginny Weasley's hands and later be destroyed."

Rebekah lifted a hand to her Basilisk earrings remembering Vibora and what happened.

"And what does that have to do with the dreamscape I find myself in every night for the last few years?"

"Could the soul have jumped from the Diary to her?" Remus asked.

Sirius scowled. "I hope not."

Dumbledore didn't confirm or deny it, but he continued on anyway. "Voldemort was the one to give you your scar. You feel his presence even when he is disguised. He is linked to you through it, and you to him because of the ritual he forced you through at the end of last year. The destruction of the Diary could have activated the connection but since he was not connected to you but you to him, you could see his past version while he could not see anything at all."

"The Binding ritual stops him from seeing into my mind, and this scar and the destruction of the Diary allows me into his," Rebekah just blinked and slumped into her seat. "Advantage on my end at least."

"I know it is a lot to take in but I believe it is necessary for you to know at this point," Dumbledore stated. "You might try and find this out by yourself and find yourself in a dangerous circumstance or worse."

"I've been in dangerous circumstances since I came to Hogwarts," Rebekah dug her fingers absently into the leather of the armchair. "Remember my first year, when I was in the Infirmary because I was injured one way or another after I killed Quirrell, what did you mean by what I would find out when I was older? Were you referring to the prophecy? Is that why he is trying to kill me?"

"You were young and I didn't want to burden you with it."

"I would have rather known but I understand why you wouldn't tell an eleven year old."

"Voldemort tried to kill you when you were a child because of a prophecy made shortly before your birth." Dumbledore clasped his hand in front of him as he leaned forward to speak to her clearly. She attentively listened. "He knew the prophecy had been made, though he did not know its full contents. He set out to kill you when you were still a baby, believing he was fulfilling the terms of the prophecy. He discovered, to his cost, that he was mistaken, when the curse intended to kill you backfired. And so, since his return to his body, and particularly since your extraordinary escape from him last year, he has been determined to hear that prophecy in its entirety. This is the weapon he has been seeking so assiduously since his return: the knowledge of how to destroy you."

"The prophecy referred to a person as the Monarch," Sirius said. "Are we supposed to believe that Rebekah is the Monarch? It was either her or Neville Longbottom. How was he supposed to know who it was?"

"Tom Riddle is a HalfBlood," She said. "He chose me because I am supposed to be his equal. He always thought that PureBloods were better but he himself is a HalfBlood. The end of the prophecy, it said 'Neither can live while the other survives'. Does that mean one of us has to die so the other can live?"

"Yes."

Rebekah turned cold, a harsh blankness but with a sense of determination came over her. "I don't intend to die."

Dumbledore looked as if he knew something she didn't and she didn't like that one bit.

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The next set of days were spent with the Crown trying to decide who was going to be part of the Upper and Lower Court. They had been decided on quite quickly and the Crown was happy with who was chosen. Useful people, useful and powerful in one sense or the other.

By the time the train docked at Platform Nine and Three Quarters, the Crown was sure of one thing. Umbridge would never be found.

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