The Ambitions Of Rebekah Potter

Chapter Forty Four

On Christmas day, Rebekah found a long package on the coffee table. She slashed the packaging opened with a knife and found a polished ebony handle. She tore the rest of the package and squealed in delight, letting the broom float at the perfect height.

A polish Firebolt with several zeros lined the hand with a single seven at the bottom. This was the seventh Firebolt ever made. The hazel twigs that made the bottom were perfectly straight and started just below the undetachable bipods flipped forward to allow her to mount. When she was mounted, even in her pajamas, the footrests flipped back and allowed her to properly seat it.

Rebekah jumped off and went to get changed, pulling on her black runed robes for extra warmth and protection. Placing Emperor in the front of her top, he clung to her as she zoomed out of the opening in the window and into the cold, Christmas air.

Even with the calm air, the wind was whipping past her as Rebekah forced the broom to go quicker and faster, doing tricks like hanging upside down as Emperor tried to stick to her before he could fall. She laughed as she did loopty loops above the lake.

"Come on, little squid," Rebekah said and allowed her hand to barely dip into the icy waters. "Play with me!"

The Giant Squid accommodated her by making large hoops with its arms for her to fly through. Eventually it tried to make her dismount the broom by flinging water at her. She coughed as some of the freezing water landed on her.

She played for a couple hours before she decided she was hungry enough. Lunch would be served soon and so she landed at the Entrance Hall and made her way, with her broom in hand and soaking wet, to the Great Hall.

Instead of four tables and the High Table, there was a single table set for twelve. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick were already there and seated with Filch, two nervous First Years, a sulking Fifth year, Hermione, and Ron.

"Oh, am I late?" Rebekah said as she walked up to the table.

"You're soaking wet, Potter," Snape said. It was like he was telling her to dry herself without saying so. "Though you are not late, where were you? I retrieved Malcomson but you were not in your dorm."

She dried herself before taking a seat, leaning the Firebolt against the chair. "I went flying. I stayed within sight of the castle and I had Emperor with me."

"Did your broom come then?" Hermione asked.

"Better," Rebekah gestured to the Firebolt next to her. "This came as a gift and I just needed to test it out."

"Rebekah, that broom is expensive!" Ron said and leaned over Hermione to look at it better, gasping. "It's the seventh one ever made! Who sent it?"

"My aunt," Rebekah lied easily. She had already an idea of who could have sent it, and if she told the truth, it would be confiscated.

"...If you must know, Minerva, I have seen that poor Professor Lupin will not be with us for very long. He seems aware, himself, that his time is short. He positively fled when I offered to crystal gaze for him —" Trelawney said glumly.

"Imagine that," McGonagall cleared her throat.

"I doubt," Dumbledore said in a tone that ended their conversation. "that Professor Lupin is in any immediate danger. Severus, you've made the potion for him again?"

"Yes, Headmaster," Snape said, his face as neutral as ever. "I believe Miss Potter will be able to make the potions if I am unavailable for whatever reason. She has been training under me for the last few terms."

"Are you praising the girl?" McGonagall said, surprised. She smiled into her goblet as Snape sent her a glare.

"I am speaking of her capable skill for her age,"