A/N: Okay. First off: I'm really, really, really, really, really, really, really sorry about the delay. Four projects. Four! All due in, like, the same week! Two from the same class! Mr. Stal, you'll be the death of me... Anyway, sorry. Hey, and did anyone see the Michael Jackson interview? I'm still unnerved.

And, of course, thanks to all my reviewers in the past three or four weeks (even i lost count): Wyrd Sista187, Sarah Black, Lucia Dreams, Frederick Weasley, and gibson girl. You're all lovely people.

Alright, now to this long awaited chapter, entitled, "Pandora's Box". Oooh. Well, actually, this one is kind of funny, like a lot of them. Anyway, in this one, we get a little bit of suspense from Dumbledore. *gasp* Anyway, enjoy.

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Chapter Nine
Pandora's Box

The next morning was bright, sun pouring in generously through the windows and settling against the walls of the girls' dormitory. One day left till the ball. And Ginny was still going with Harry. She was sure of it.

She woke up in a state that she probably should've been in months earlier - angry with Becky. Well, not all that angry so that it was visible. It was more like a nagging question in the back of her head that just wouldn't leave her alone. And of course, the question: why would Becky tell her that? Besides, just because she said so didn't mean it was true.

She learned that one from Fred and George a long, long time ago.

Briefly, she glanced at the neighboring bed, whose curtains were drawn. Getting up from her bed, she tiredly stumbled over to her trunk, sitting before it on her knees. As Becky slept, she opened it and removed her dress robes she'd gotten for the ball. Quietly, she ran her fingers over the soft velvet in her hands, thinking, dreaming. First, the little things, such as just talking to or being near him. Then, the dating, perhaps her first kiss…well, from him: technically, Neville was her first kiss. But later on, graduation, engagement, marriage, children (er, maybe)...

Why can't I have all that? she would think sometimes. Well, maybe she could. She wasn't about to let a few simple words in a little, almost casual conversation ruin that. She'd have to see all that for herself.

But first, it was Sunday. Harry had practice today. Replacing her dress robes in her trunk and pulling out something to warm to wear, she closed it and headed for the bathroom. When she had showered and dressed, she took a few minutes more to comb her hair and brush her teeth and left the bathroom.

And as she was leaving the dormitory, she gazed one more time out the window. The players were already on the field, where the snow upon it was melting under an exceptionally warm sun. At first glance, she wouldn't have been able to tell that there were fifteen people on the field, not the standard fourteen.

She didn't notice.

Grabbing her cloak, she walked out of the dormitory, through the common room, down the corridors and stairs, and outside to a surprisingly warmer morning, save for the snow. She looked up at the blue sky in awe. It was a beautiful day, especially for the middle of winter.

With a small smile, she headed toward the Quidditch field in the near distance.

There, she saw Harry standing patiently as if waiting for her at the bleachers, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his Firebolt over his shoulder. Ginny saw it as an attempt to try to look suave (as he'd called it one time while they were teasing Ron one fine morning, after he'd made the team).

"Look at him!" Harry'd said, unable to hold in the sniggers. "Just - just look at him!"

Ginny and Hermione were with him, looking down on Ron from the common room. Harry said when he'd woken up, Ron had already left for the field. He'd been there for a little while. Right now, he was walking out in his Quidditch robes, with his broom over his shoulder. "Casually", he leaned against the wall of the locker rooms. By this time, Ginny had already begun laughing with Harry, but Hermione was insistent on getting them to desist (okay, so she was holding back a laugh).

"Stop it, you two," reprimanded Hermione. "It's not that funny."

It was that moment when Ron decided to put on a pair of sunglasses.

Harry and Ginny doubled over in laughter. Before Harry could quite get out the word "hypocrite", Hermione was hunched over the table, chortling uncontrollably. After about five minutes, he announced he had to go to practice. More accurately:

"Alright, I have to go practice with this prat. See you at breakfast."

As soon as he'd walked past the portrait, he could be heard laughing again on the other side.

But today, he wasn't trying to look suave, or it didn't look like it. His expression seemed more scared, more worried. The smile on Ginny's face began to fade. She quickened her pace a little, soon reaching him. She studied his expression carefully for a few moments.

"What's wrong?" she asked concernedly. She couldn't tell whether it was a wince she had received from him.

"It's nothing much, it's just..." His eyes seemed to dart uncomfortably toward the bleachers. She followed his glance. She was suddenly stricken motionless.

"Is that Cho?"

"Don't jump to any conclusions," said Harry quickly. "I'm just as surprised as you. I think she just wants to talk about..."

"Summer," finished Ginny, not quite knowing what to think. It didn't take much to realize he was referring to what happened to Cedric. Harry nodded, his eyes downcast.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly, looking at him intently. He stared back.

"Are you?"

She gazed at him for a few more moments before smiling subtly. "I'll be fine," she said as lightly as she could. "You don't have to worry about me."

"I know," he said, almost under his breath.

Ginny, with a small sigh, glanced again at Cho sitting in the bleachers. Half of her was willing to try and sit for the next couple of hours by a very sweet yet very intimidating person (of course, her sweetness was what made her so intimidating). The other half wanted to find something else to do for the time being. She went with her second half.

"Oh, no," she said faintly to herself.

"What?" queried Harry.

"I just remembered," she said in a somewhat disappointed voice. "I forgot to get Becky's present. I thought I'd have more time, but then..."

Harry just nodded, lingering a moment before the whistle was blown. Reluctantly, he walked onto the field and mounted his broom. She watched him for a few seconds as he steadily rose into the air, glanced one last time at Cho, and then heading for Hogsmeade.

Slowly she walked, lost in thought. There was Cho, the same girl Harry'd fancied since forever (not that he told her; it's was just painfully obvious to her), sitting in the bleachers, watching them practice. She knew it probably wasn't Quidditch-related: Cho had quit after Cedric had passed. So what if Becky was right? Did Cho spell disaster?

To busy with her ponderings, she arrived at the lot where the carriages were kept to see that not a single one had left. She then remembered that they weren't able to go until after breakfast. With a low grumble, she returned to the castle, rather than the Quidditch stands.

No breakfast and no Hogsmeade trips for a couple hours... Guess I'll go back to the common room.

Marching back through the snow, up the front steps, and into a warmer atmosphere, she absently went by the Great Hall. So absently that she didn't realize, until glancing out the window as she passed the headmaster's office, she had a good view of the Quidditch field. Exhaling in a frustrated manner, she leaned on the window seal and watched them for a while.

After a minute, she noticed the murmur of voices.

Turning her focus away from the field, she shifted in place to hear a little better. The voices were coming from the office next to her, right behind the gargoyle that guarded it. They seemed to be getting closer; arguing, it sounded like at first. Steadily, the words became audible.

"Why do you have to show me?" said the deeper voice. Dumbledore. "Can't you simply tell me?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I simply told you, Albus," said the other voice, her voice hinting worry and, perhaps, fright. But Ginny recognized it. Her brows lifted with slight interest.

She heard Dumbledore scoff. "Come now, Poppy. Remember with whom you speak. If you told me I had a tree growing out of my head, I would trust you wholeheartedly --"

"Please, sir," she scolded mildly. "This is serious."

A patient sigh. "Alright. Go ahead."

Another sigh. "As you may know," she began, "we've had Ginny Weasley in the wing for about a week, after she brought in Daphne."

Ginny's eyes widened. On the other side of the wall was a hum of acknowledgement.

"Well," continued the nurse, "I remember that right before she fainted, she mentioned another student who was with her when Daphne was injured. And I looked through my records of this year's students - I mean, I looked and looked - and I didn't find a thing. So I used the location charm --"

"Ah, yes, the location charm," interrupted Dumbledore in a nostalgic tone. "That takes me back... Almost lost an arm with that one in my early twenties. Quite complex, I congratulate you --"

"Albus!"

"Oh, yes, the file. Sorry. Please continue."

Ginny could almost see the disdain on Madame Pomfrey's face. "Anyway, I used the location charm, and it found nothing. So I'd figured I'd done something wrong. You are right about one thing; the charm can be tricky.

"But today, I was in my office, and I heard this strange tapping on the door. I asked whom it was, and I didn't get an answer, just more tapping. I told whoever was at the door that it was open, but they just kept tapping. So finally, I just got up and opened the door - and this hits me in the face!"

Ginny assumed that Madame Pomfrey was holding the object.

"A file," said Dumbledore simply in slight amusement. "The one you were seeking?"

"It was."

Ginny smiled to herself.

"Oddly enough," the nurse added in an undertone. "It didn't come out of the same stack, not even the same drawer."

Ginny's smile faltered.

"You might need to look at it, sir."

There was a brief silence and a slight rustling of paper. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

There was a bit more rustling and a bit more silence. A lot more, actually. The longer the silence, the more anxious Ginny grew to hear more. She began to press her ear to the wall.

"Rebecca Cwalino," said Dumbledore quietly. The name seemed to echo through Ginny's head as she waited to hear more from him than just the one simple statement.

He said nothing, but the nurse did.

"Do you know her, Albus?"

He took his time answering. "Have you seen her at all?"

"Erm...no, I haven't," said Madame Pomfrey, sounding confused.

"I'll take care of this, Poppy," he said, his voice still soft. "Don't you worry about it. You may return to the hospital wing."

Realizing that the nurse was about to exit and find her eavesdropping, she scurried down the corridor and around a random corner, waiting until she heard the movement of the gargoyle and the disappearing footsteps. Coming our from behind her corner, she headed back to her dormitory, not even daring to stop and look out the window.

A few minutes later, she was passing through the portrait hole and walking up the steps the girls' dormitory. Upon opening the door, she spotted Becky sitting up on her bed, nervously biting her thumbnail. She didn't even seem to notice that Ginny had cracked open the door. She whispered something that was nearly incoherent, but Ginny heard it:

            "I'm running out of time."

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Ooohhhh....*dun, dun, duuun...* He he. Alright, in the next chapter, I expect we'll have a bit more angst. Fun, fun, fun. Well, thanks so much for reading.