A/N: Let's see...thanks to Mats Forsen, Sarah Black, Tabbycat, civateteo, and Sache for reviewing. Btw, to Sarah: Toejam & Earl was what I was playing. Fun game.

Well, here's the seventh chapter. Hurrah! Basically, in this one, Becky begins to get a bit of an edge...plus some funny conversation between Ron and Ginny. Enjoy.

*************************************************************************

Chapter Seven
Little White Lies

            At dinnertime, Harry left the hospital wing with the promise that he'd visit tomorrow. In tiny bits, her memory of her sudden collapse returned, though still not very sure of the events that had taken place. So far, she remembered pain - not exactly how it felt, per se, but she knew there was pain - and she recalled falling to the floor, or just hitting some kind of hard surface (her eyes were shut).

Eventually she was able to sit up in her bed to eat dinner, which Madame Pomfrey was attempting to spoon-feed to her before being convinced that Ginny's hands functioned properly. It hurt a bit, but she managed. There was a little difficulty in moving her jaw, mostly because of a bandage that covered her right cheek.

As she ate, she wondered about how she had fainted and why she had fainted. She had heard Madame Pomfrey mention that she had no other symptoms of anything besides passing out. Every once in a while, she glanced at Daphne, who would stir occasionally when the nurse changed her bandages but not wake.

Her thoughts then went to Rebecca. Ginny sincerely hoped that she hadn't gotten into too much trouble, though the opposite probably happened, considering the drastic circumstances. She was scared for her, for herself and for Becky. Most of all, she was scared for Daphne.

Just because she was in fair condition didn't mean that she couldn't get worse.

After she was finished eating, Madame Pomfrey came over with some rubbing alcohol, gauze and tape to change the bandage on her face. Her tray was pushed aside, and Madame Pomfrey began to peel off the tape that held down the gauze. Ginny winced as the stringy fabric separated from her half-healed wound and automatically pulled away. The gauze hung loosely off her face by the remaining tape.

"Hold still, dear," chided Madame Pomfrey, grabbing hold of the tape once more between two fingers. Ginny groaned.

"Can't you heal it with a potion or cream, something along those lines?" she insisted, still flinching away from gauze.

"We're out of Bubotuber pus," explained Madame Pomfrey. "There's an order of it coming in. For now, we must manage with these Muggle first-aid kits..." With that, she peeled off the remaining tape, threw it in a nearby wastebasket, and opened the clean gauze. Ginny glanced again at Daphne.

"What about her?" she asked the nurse. "Will she be okay?"

Madame Pomfrey's face became suddenly grim as she glimpsed the other girl. "She should be," she said quietly. Within a few minutes, her wound was swabbed with alcohol and covered with a new layer of gauze. Madame Pomfrey didn't continue as she applied it, causing another question to pop into Ginny's head.

"Madame Pomfrey?" said Ginny softly.

"Yes?"

"What's happened to Becky? Why hasn't she come to see me?"

To Ginny's surprise, Madame Pomfrey seemed to know whom she meant.

"Oh, you mean the Rebecca girl you were talking about when you brought in Ms. Trent?"

"Yeah, that's her. She was with me when I brought in Daphne."

Madame Pomfrey looked at her and shook her head slowly. "No, dear," she said. "You were here by yourself, just you and Ms. Trent."

Ginny's eyebrow scrunched. "Really? I could've sworn she was with me."

The nurse shook her head again.

Hmm, she thought. Must've hit my head pretty hard.

Madame Pomfrey went on to say something else unexpected.

"I've looked through my filing cabinets," she said, walking over to a pantry filled with all sorts of ailments, "of medical histories of the students and such. I haven't found a Rebecca Cwalino."

Ginny looked over at Madame Pomfrey. She was holding what looked like a sleeping draught in her hands and staring at Ginny carefully.

"I have the medical records of every student in this school, whether their names were written down at birth or they transferred here. Or so I thought."

There was a short silence before she spoke again.

"You said she transferred here this year, correct?"

Ginny nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"You two are good friends?"

"Yes."

"And she's the one who accidentally pushed Ms. Trent down the stairs?"

Ginny stilled and her eyes widened slightly. She was sensing where the nurse was going with this. At any rate, Ginny nodded again.

"Now, it was only the three of you, right?"

She nodded. Madame Pomfrey nodded as well in acknowledgment.

"I see..." she said quietly. "Could you describe her for me?"

Ginny cleared her throat and described Becky. A tall girl with long, black hair, dark brown eyes, and glasses. Relatively thin, really pale.

Madame Pomfrey nodded again. "Anything else to identify her by?"

Ginny stared down at her bed sheets in concentration. "That's all I can think of for now," she said finally.

Madame Pomfrey appeared to be opening her mouth to ask another question when the doors opened. Ginny was half hoped it to be Rebecca or perhaps Harry. It was neither, which surprised Ginny. Her eyebrows rose in interest.

It was Ron. Out of her peripheral vision, Ginny saw Madame Pomfrey purse her lips together as she put away the potion in her hands. Silently, she thanked Ron for coming in before any more questions were asked or she was put to sleep, also grateful that he wasn't coming in with a beaten and bruised Harry hanging on his arm.

He walked up to her bed with a rare look of concern on his face. He halted at her bedside.

"Hey," he said silently.

"Hey," she responded. For a moment, she waited for him to begin his lecture on why she couldn't date his best friend.

"Harry told me you were awake," he added, sitting down on the end of her bed.

She glanced at him for a moment. "You haven't killed him yet?" she said with an inkling of a smile.

Ron smirked. "Not yet," he said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

He glanced at her cheek and then down at her hand. "What happened?" he asked. "I thought you just fainted."

"I did," she said. "On hard, stone flooring."

Ron looked down in reference to her description. "Makes sense," he said. After his gaze lingered on the floor for a few seconds, it returned to her. He smiled softly.

"I'm glad you're okay."

She smiled back. "Thanks."

They sat in silence for a few moments, and then the lecture Ginny was expecting (or something like it) began.

"But really, what's wrong with Colin or Neville?" he asked.

She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. "Nothing. I just like Harry."

Ron sighed and looked away for a second. Then he looked back. "Why?"

She gave him a stony expression. "You're impossible," said Ginny bluntly. "I don't see how Hermione deals with you."

To her satisfaction, Ron blushed a bright shade of red, fighting down a grin. "I'm not going out with Hermione! Why does everyone think we're dating?"

"Because you are," said Ginny simply.

"We are not," he insisted.

"Are too."

"Are not."

"Okay, Ron," she said finally, not seeming fully convinced.

"We're not!"

"Then why are you two always alone now?" she challenged.

"Because now, Harry's always with you," Ron shot back.

Ginny was taken aback at this statement. It was then that she realized Harry was around her a lot. He had been lately.

He's got me there.

Inwardly, she also smiled and blushed.

When she had assured Madame Pomfrey that she didn't need the sleeping draught and could go to sleep on her own, she pretended to be asleep when she came in to check on her. The rest of the time, she lied awake, staring blankly at the wall, deep in thought. There were so many questions now.

Where were Becky's medical records? Why was she nonexistent to her own roommates? And then there was her little conversation with Ron, which sparked all sorts of ideas in her head. Did Harry like her? Is that why he was spending so much time with her? And Daphne: would she be okay?

She began to develop a headache.

Ginny was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear the doors opening or the footsteps that followed. When she realized someone else was in the room, she looked up and saw another girl. The shadows created from her hair and the moonlight blocked out most of her face. Ginny gasped and jumped back, eyes wide as saucers.

"What?" said the girl innocently. Ginny recognized the voice and, figuring out who it was, and let out a breath of relief. Her eyes shrank in size.

"Becky!" she breathed.

"Very good, Ginny," said Becky sarcastically. Casually, she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

Ginny's unbandaged hand clutched at her chest, gripping her gown tightly. "You scared me!" she whispered to the practical ghost.

"Sorry," Becky whispered back.

"How did you get in here? Isn't the door locked?"

"I picked it," she said, removing a small clip from her hair. It glimmered slightly in the dimness of the ward before she replaced it. "I was going to come earlier, but I got sidetracked by our project."

Ginny's eyes widened once again. Releasing a considerably loud curse, her hand immediately went from her chest to her mouth, hoping she hadn't woken up any of the stirring patients. Rebecca gave her a humourous look. Ginny returned it, smiling broadly.

"I mean... I, er...forgot about the project," she said, after the patients had calmed. Becky's outline shrugged its shoulders.

"I've got it under control," she said. Her glance on Ginny moved forward to Daphne. She still had yet to open up her eyes. "Never mind it. How are you?"

Ginny glimpsed her other hand for a moment. "I'll be fine."

"How is she?" asked Becky, eyes lingering on the unconscious girl. Ginny sighed softly, following the gaze.

"I don't know," said Ginny honestly, looking away. "Her chart says she's in fair condition, but it also says she has some kind of spinal injury. I don't see how the two would fit. I suppose she could get worse."

She looked again to Becky, who was still cloaked in shadow. "Did you get into trouble or anything?"

The other girl shrugged again. "No one's said anything to me."

Ginny half nodded. In the pause that followed, her thoughts drifted back to the little conversation that she'd had with Madame Pomfrey that evening.

"How come you have no medical records?" said Ginny suddenly, breaking the quiet of the hospital wing. Becky, seeming not to expect this, turned her darkened face toward her.

"I don't?" she said after a minute. Ginny shook her head.

"How would you know that?" Becky asked. Ginny could hear the suspicion in her voice.

"Madame Pomfrey told me," she explained. "She says she was trying to find you in her medical histories and you're not there." As if sensing that Becky was probably puzzled about why Ginny was told this information, she went on.

"I think that she thinks that I'm making you up and that I pushed Daphne."

Becky didn't respond for a long moment. Finally she picked her head up, the moonlight illuminating the utterly blank expression on her face.

"Mum must've forgot to send them over," she said at last, preparing to leave. "But… I'll think of something. Okay?"

Ginny nodded silently, lifting her uninjured hand to wave goodbye. Becky responded in kind, and crept out as quietly as she had crept in.

But Ginny had noticed a few wholes in what Becky had said. She picked the lock. Why didn't she just magic it open?

Her mother didn't send any medical records. If that was true, why was she even there? She could be a hazard to the other students (which is apparently true, thought Ginny as she glanced again at Daphne). She was a sickly child - you'd think she'd have some kind of record of that.

But none of this seemed to worry Becky, as she wondered down the halls. She seemed more concerned about what to do now, her next move. How to distract her friend from her absent medical records, her absent wand, her absence to the rest of the world. Just a little while longer, that's all she needed now. Well, that and another plan.

So she continued to wonder, focusing on how to get free, how to get him right where she wanted him (although he seemed to be getting pretty close lately).

He can tell something is going on inside that head of hers, thought Becky with a sigh. I see it in his eyes... That's going to be a problem...

And now, she realized, she had two people to distract.

And then, all of a sudden, it came to her. She knew another person to bring into the equation.

Her muse. Her own personal, clueless muse.



****************************************************************************

Hmm...wonder who it is... Well, I'm thinking that in the next chapter, this will be revealed. We'll also see what that song was all about. I actually got it off an episode of "Futurama" called "Jurassic Bark" (the episode where Fry finds his fossilized dog, for anyone who watches that). It was an unusually sad episode; the song was playing at the end of it.

Anway, thanks for reading :).