Pandora's Box

A/N: This fic was written for the lovely Dessie (desertredwolf) for winning the First Competition: Your Journey on The Golden Snitch forum. Congratulations! I hope you enjoy this fic :)

For anyone wondering, the request was to write a fic about Pandora's Box involving Harry, Neville and Luna with the dialogue prompt: "The 'Destruction of Worlds' lies within Pandora's Box.". I'm afraid this is the best I could come up with, but hopefully, if you like it enough and I find time, I'll continue it as a multi-chapter.

I apologise in advance for any SPaG or plotholes within this (including possibly mislabelling the seventh-floor as the fifth...long story). I will get this beta'd ASAP. I should also warn you that I suck at writing horror and supernatural, so please keep that in mind. Nevertheless, thanks for reading!

Neville was used to his muscles aching and hands stinging; years of school had made it easy to get used to cuts and scrapes from wily thorns and teeth in Herbology, not to mention the occasional potion gone wrong that burned his body. What he had never expected to get used to—and hoped he never would again—were the aches that came with clearing up the school of debris.

Months had passed since the final battle took place at Hogwarts, yet looking around him, Neville could see that there was still a tonne of work left to do. Bits and pieces of armour were still scattered around the Great Hall, cement and dust from the walls refusing to lift off the scarred marble floors. It was as though the castle was determined to keep its battle scars; as though it, too, had something dark inside its core that would not let it completely heal, no matter how much they tried to help.

Sighing, he leant against the mop he held, and wiped his forehead free of the sweat that had formed.

"We'll take a break in a minute," Harry called to him, the green-eyed man swishing his own mop back and forth over a stubborn, grey stain. Not once did he turn around UGH FIX.

His friend was covered in even more dirt and sweat than Neville, his shirt sleeves pushed up to his elbows and long, dark hair falling into his eyes. Harry's tongue protruded out between his lips, his brow furrowed, as he tried—and failed—to remove the stain.

Shaking his head, Neville put down his mop. "Look, Harry, it's getting dark and the others have already left, maybe we should go home for the ni—"

"No. There's still plenty of time left and we need to get this school back up and running."

"But, it's already nearing eight o'clock and—" Neville tried again.

"No, we need to finish."

Neville sighed once more but didn't argue. There was no point, really—ever since they had buried their loved ones and the war had been officially declared over, Harry had thrown himself into repairing different areas of the Wizarding World. It was as if he blamed himself for its destruction in the first place, especially Hogwarts. Day after day, Harry would take a team of people to the castle and work until someone was successful in dragging him away. If it made him feel like he was solving everything, then so shall be it.

Turning away from Harry, he nodded. "Alright, I'll go tell Luna."

Harry barely grunted as Neville walked out of the room to find the only other person that had elected to stay behind who, truth be told, he had a feeling probably didn't even know what time it was.

Although he had been at the battle himself and saw the destruction as it happened, Neville still could not seem to believe how much damage had really occurred. Walking down the hallways, he had to jump to avoid several potholes where flagstone had once been, as well as quite a few puddles from burst pipes not yet repaired. The hallways were free of any of the ghosts, many of whom had passed on once they had seen the damage sustained by their home, others reminding themselves to travel outside the castle to the grounds and beyond. The portraits that usually hung along the walls, gossiping about students or yelling about a lack of sleep, were also gone; the had been temporarily relocated to different houses and Ministry departments until the castle was up and running again.

Even so, as Neville entered the seventh-floor corridor, searching for Luna, he was sure he wasn't the only one there. The castle here was silent save for his footsteps that echoed off the walls, yet he was sure he could hear another being's ragged breath. It was also colder, despite the lack of ghosts, and the further he travelled along, the more the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

Resisting the urge to look over his shoulder, knowing it was more likely than not his imagination playing up, Neville settled instead for half-walking, half-jogging around the corner.

"Luna!" Neville gasped as he came to a stop. "There you are, I've been looking for you everywhere."

He rolled his eyes when he saw where she was standing, right outside the Room of Requirement. Really, he should've known she'd be there. He, Luna, and a few others had tried and tried again to fix the room since Crabbe had burned it, yet all they had managed to do so far as get it to reopen and close like before. The room no longer met any requests of its occupants, no matter how politely asked or how desperate the wish. The walls were blackened and charred, and the plain, old floor of wooden floorboards a danger to stand on. Yet still, Luna insisted that the room would work again, and that it was simply Fire Plimpies or some other non-existing keeping its magic from working. Each day she would return to the room, arguing that the room was speaking to her, begging her to go inside and help it.

"Luna, c'mon, it's almost time to go. Harry wants us to do another hour or two cleaning up the Potions room—though don't ask me why he'd bother—and I really don't want to do it by myself. That place still gives me the heebie-jeebies," Neville said, shuddering lightly. "In fact, everything does at this time."

Rubbing his arms, he looked up and down the hallway. A light breeze had tickled his arms, neck and face, almost like a ghost had passed nearby. No one else was there, however, and he turned his attention back to his blonde friend.

"Luna?"

The girl was staring at something in her hands, a small smile on her face. Whatever it was that she was holding was glowing, bathing her pale face in gold.

A shiver flew up Neville's spine as he watched her standing so still. Her eyes were unblinking, hair flying around her.

Swallowing, he walked closer to her and pointed at the object in her hand. "Erm, what have you got there?"

Upon closer inspection, he could see that it was a small golden box. Around its edge were a few carvings, almost like a vine pattern, stretching up to form a border around the lid. Etched onto the surface was some funny markings: Πανδώρα.

The box seemed to draw him in, making him stretch his hand towards it, wanting to touch it. At the same time, it caused the warning lights in his brain to go off.

Shaking his head, Neville withdrew his hand.

"Hello, Neville, when did you get here?" Luna finally said, blinking and smiling up at him.

Swallowing again and not daring to look directly at it, Neville pointed at the box. "Um, hi. What is that?"

Luna simply shrugged. "Oh, just a box. It's beautiful, isn't it? It belonged to my mother."

"Your mother?"

"Yes, her name was Pandora, and this is called a Pandora's box. See the writing on top?"

"Um, are you sure, Luna? I mean, that it belonged to your mother?" Neville asked. "Besides, I think I've heard of Pandora's Box before… Isn't it supposed to contain something evil?"

"Oh yes, I'm quite sure it is," Luna said, nodding. "You mean the 'Destruction of Worlds' lies within Pandora's Box? I don't believe that. Just like many of us, this little box is just another thing that is misunderstood."

She then stroked the top of the box, tracing over the writing with the tip of her finger. As soon as she did, the box glowed and Neville felt a gust of wind blow past him. Goosebumps erupted all over his skin, and he began to rub his arms again.

"Luna, please… I think that could be dangerous."

Luna ignored him, fiddling with the small lock that held the lid closed. Her eyes seemed to cloud over for a moment, and as Neville watched her, ready to hit the box out of her hands if he had to, she began to hum. At least he thought it was her humming.

"Luna, I don't think you should open that."

"Mmm?" With her finger hovering over the latch, Luna looked back at him. Blinking a few times, her eyes returned to normal. "It'll be fine, but since I can see you are so uncomfortable, I'll leave it for now."

Heaving a sigh, Neville nodded. "Good."

Luna turned her gaze back to the box, the smile back on her face.

"Luna? Maybe you should put the box where you found it. I mean, I'm sure it'll be safe there."

Luna nodded but didn't say anything. Neville glared at the box, positive it was evil—well, whatever was inside it, anyway.

Clearing his throat, he tried to keep his tone light. "Anyway, how about coming with me to the dungeons? I really could use your help down there, and then we can get out of here."

Sighing, Luna tore her eyes from the box. She frowned when she looked at him, and Neville realised too late that he mustn't have succeeded in seeming positive. Thankfully, however, she didn't seem to be too offended that he didn't believe her and smiled again.

Stepping up to him, she placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, causing his face to grow hot and his heart to flutter.

"Ok, Neville, I'll come with you now. Let me just put my mother's box away and I'll meet you down there," Luna said. Then, when he didn't immediately move, she hit him on the arm, "Go on, go! I'll be there soon."

Neville hesitated, his gaze wandering from the box to Luna to the box again. It had stopped glowing now and he no longer felt the pull towards it. Still, he didn't trust it completely.

Looking back to Luna and seeing her encouraging smile, he sighed. "Alright, but don't be too long." Then, glaring at the box once more, he turned on his heel and walked away.

"Slow down, Neville," Harry complained.

"C'mon, she might still be up here. Quickly," Neville said, sprinting up the staircase towards the seventh-floor corridor, Harry on his tail.

His heart was in his throat, goosebumps covering his body. He knew he shouldn't have left Luna with that box, he just knew it. He had been in the dungeons, cleaning out the Potions classroom. When Luna hadn't shown up within ten minutes, he had begun to clean out the smashed vials and dried potions that had been smeared all over the stone floor. It was harder than he thought, especially given that many of the cauldrons down there had somehow also melted into the floor during the battle—exactly how, he didn't want to know. Nevertheless, he had promised he would get it back to normal, and soon become so invested in cleaning that it was almost two hours later before he realised Luna still hadn't shown up.

He had run to fetch Harry and the two of them had searched the castle for her, Neville cursing himself under his breath for his stupidity. How could he have left her with it? What had happened to her? Was she ok, or had he left her with something that—that—

"Well, where is she?" Harry asked, clutching his knees to gather his breath. "I thought you said you saw her hear?"

"Luna? Luna?" Neville called, looking around. The corridor felt cold, as though it was filled with ghosts, and he was sure someone was watching. Just as before, however, it was completely empty of humans, dead or alive.

"I don't understand, she was here," he said, gesturing wildly around. "Luna? Luna, where are you?"

"Alright look, mate, keep your voice down. I'm sure she is fine," Harry said, though when Neville looked at him, he could see him shudder. "Maybe she's in the Room of Requirement again?"

Neville nodded, desperate to believe him. Yes, of course, Luna had probably become distracted by the room, that was all. She was fine, and they were simply worrying for nothing.

Nevertheless, as he walked past the room and the door appeared, he already knew it would be empty inside. Peeking in, all he could see were the charred walls and weak floorboards. Closing the door, Neville turned to Harry and shook his head.

Harry bit his lip, looking back up the corridor. Then, frowning, he pointed to something on the floor. "What's that?"

Looking to where he was pointing, Neville's heart sank. There, almost hidden in the dark, was the box Luna had been holding. It was no longer glowing, yet as he took a step closer to it, he saw that the carving on top was now black, not gold.

Following him, his brow furrowed, Harry bent down. Before Neville could warn him to be careful, the boy stretched out an arm and touched the box.

"Ouch!" Immediately, Harry jumped back, clutching his hand and putting his fingers in his mouth. "It burnt me," he said, lifting up his hand so Neville could inspect it.

Although it was very faint, Neville could see small, red lines crossing Harry's fingers and palm. "You—You don't think—think it's a—a—another Horcrux, do you?" he asked, his voice coming out shakier than he intended.

Neville cringed as the thought of Nagini popped into his mind, the vision of her rearing back her head to strike him playing over yet again. He still had dreams about that night, often waking up drenched in sweat from the memories of the great snake and the Sorting Hat burning on his head. The thought that yet another Horcrux could be here was almost too much to bear.

Harry shook his head. "No, it can't be… It's just a box."

"But why did it burn you then? And where's Luna? I don't like this, Harry."

Neville looked around again, hoping to find something—anything—to reassure him that he was wrong. Harry moved closer to the box again, bending down to it.

"Look, I don't like it either, and I don't know what this is exactly. The best thing we can do is to get someone to look at it. If we hurry, we might be able to catch Ron's oldest brother at the Burrow; he's a curse breaker, he might know what to do."

"Ok." Neville shivered and looked around.

He could still feel someone watching him. Part of him wanted to believe that it was Luna, coming to tell them she was alright and that they were worried about nothing.

"In the meantime, we'll hide it so no one else can get hurt," Harry continued, re-opening the door to the Room of Requirement. Sticking out his foot, he kicked the box into the room and slammed the door shut. "There, it should be safe for now. Let's go," he said and started back down the corridor.

Rather than move, however, Neville stared at the door of the room as it slowly faded away. Luna had been holding that box, and now she was missing. Somehow, he knew, just knew, that it had something to do with it. Luna seemed to adore the box; he couldn't fathom her leaving it lying on the ground like that. Especially when she had been so adamant that it had once belonged to her mother.

Well, he wouldn't let her down... again. He would find out what that sinister box contained, and better yet, he would find Luna and make sure she was right.

Turning around and squashing down his fears, he sprinted back after Harry, determined to put everything right.

He watched the two boys run back down the corridor, pressing his back as close to the wall as possible. Meddling fools, why did they have to ruin everything? Couldn't they leave the castle for once so he could do what he had to?

Well, this was probably going to be his only chance. Shaking his head and checking the corridor once more to ensure the boys were gone, he strode over to where he had seen the door. So, they had managed to reopen the room, had they? At least they weren't completely useless. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his wish and walked passed the door three times. Excitement swirled up through his body when his attempt worked and a door soon formed into the brickwork.

Taking a deep breath, he opened it and stepped inside—only to have his excitement disappear.

He hadn't known what to expect, but it certainly wasn't this. The walls were black, the floor stinky. Gone were the piles of antiques and ambiguous objects stacked to the ceiling. Gone was any hope of finding what he was looking for.

Gritting his teeth, he stomped the floor. It shook under impact, only serving to make him angrier.

Damnit! Where was everything, where was—wait a minute. Squinting, he took a step forward, seeing a small, golden box lying on the floor near his foot. It seemed to glow, calling for him to pick it up.

It wasn't what he had come for, but it seemed to be just as valuable. At least he could get something out of this.

Bending down, entranced by its beauty, he reached forward to pick it up.