Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter aren't mine. They are J.K. Rowling's.

Nightmares

Ginny, now in her seventh and final year, sat on her bed humming as she brushed out her waist-length auburn hair. The moon shone through her window; pouring its borrowed light across her bed. She brushed her hair so long that it began to crackle with static electricity. Sighing, she settled her brush down and looked around her dorm for something else to occupy her time. She glanced at the clock. A quarter to three.

She heard the snoring of her dorm mates and felt a twinge of jealously. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept so peacefully. She knew when it was but she couldn't remember how it felt. She was eleven then. Eleven was when she'd gotten her letter. Eleven was when she'd finally get to go to school with her amazing older brothers. Eleven was her age when her innocence had been stolen. Eleven was the age when she'd been tainted. Eleven was so long ago yet when she closed her eyes at night, it was right there in front of her, staring her in the eyes. She looked out her window but she didn't really see it. After about twenty minutes she gave up and lay down.

She imagined her fiancé smiling at her and it calmed her down. He was so handsome. She fingered her engagement ring. They'd have gorgeous kids. If they looked half as good as Draco they'd be gorgeous. They'd been dating for a few years. They were simply in love. Sure love wasn't a simple thing but to them it just was. He'd asked her out the cutest way. She smiled as she remembered...

Draco Malfoy arrogantly walked into Ginny's Potions class. "Professor Snape, Madam Pomphrey needs you in the hospital wing right away." Ginny felt her stomach lurch she turned crimson and put her book in front of her to hide her face.

"Does she know I am teaching a class?" Snape asked, clearly irritated.

"She does, sir, but it's urgent," Malfoy drawled.

"Very well. Watch them Mr. Malfoy," Snape said indicating the sixth year Gryffindors and Slytherins.

"Yes, sir," Malfoy replied with a smirk.

Ginny tried not to but her defence dwindled and she went to sneak a glance at him. He was writing something. Ginny tried to look away; but she couldn't. She was so intrigued by everything he was. His hair fell into his eyes, but it wasn't like Harry's, each strand was exactly where he intended it to be, he wasn't hunched over but sat gracefully, he had the dignity of a prince, he was dressed in perfectly tailored robes very unlike Ginny's second hand ones, and though she could not see what she found most desirable she didn't need to. She had memorized every silver sliver and every blue speck that decorated their stormy grey. She longed for him to look up...and when he did but a moment later she had to suppress a gasp.

"Weasley, come up here," he ordered. Ginny too preoccupied with embarrassment missed the lack of harness in his voice.

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

"To tell you that it's rude to stare-," he said smirking in a charming sort of way.

Ginny began to say, 'Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy. I'd rather stare at Nick's almost severed neck.' But was too shocked to speak when...

Malfoy added, "-and to tell you that I'm flattered."

Malfoy took the parchment he'd been writing on and handed it to Ginny. She was confused but took it and went back to her seat.

As her eyes few over the page she could feel her face getting hotter and hotter. Malfoy...fancied her. That wasn't the crazy part though. The crazy part was that she believed that he did. In fact she didn't doubt it for a second. He'd asked her to go on a date with him. Ginny felt Draco's eyes on her and she answered him with a grin that Voldemort himself couldn't vanish. Her heart was beating so quickly and then he smiled at her and she felt her stomach lurch.

"Mr. Malfoy?" Snape was back and he looked really angry.

"Yes, professor?" Draco asked with all the innocence of a Slytherin.

"Madam Pomphrey did not require my assistance," Snape said with suppressed fury.

Draco pretended to look bewildered. Then he acted like realization had just dawned upon him. "She figured out the cure herself then?" Draco said and before Snape could answer he added, "Well I must get back to Transfiguration, sir."

Ginny watched him and when he got to the door he turned and winked at her. She adored those eyes.

Ginny went to bed planning what colours she'd paint their house.

"Tom, why do you want me to go outside now? It's past curfew. If I'm caught I'll get detention," Ginny said wondering why her best friend would want her to do something that she could get into trouble for.

"Ginny, trust me. I'd never get you into trouble. You're my best friend in the world," said a cold voice calculated to sound reassuring.

"Okay, I'll go but I need to tell Ron where I'm going so he doesn't get worried. Oh, and I need some gloves, and a cloak, and a scarf maybe. It's getting chilly isn't it, Tom?" Ginny asked happily turning around to go back to the common room.

"You will go now," said the cold voice no longer bothering to sound kind.

Ginny stopped dead in her tracks. She looked shocked by the way Tom had just spoken.

"Why are you speaking to me like that, Tom? You're scaring me," Ginny asked.

"You have been questioning me too much lately, Ginny Weasley. If you trusted me you'd do as I say. Aren't I you're friend?" said the voice. He was getting furious with her childishness.

"I trust you but you're being really bossy. I don't want to go outside so I'm not going to!" Ginny said as she started to go back to the common room.

Ginny stormed up less than a dozen stairs before everything went black.

Ginny woke up feeling sore all over. She felt like she'd just fallen down a flight of stairs. She shivered uncontrollably. She was freezing it was so cold. She was so very cold. She looked around and found that she was lying on the stony floor somewhere in the dungeons. She went to push herself off of the ground and that's when he saw her hands...they were covered in something. It was red. It was blood. Blood. Her blood. She was bleeding. There was so much blood. She saw feathers. It wasn't her blood. What had she killed? She was a murderer. Murderer!

Murderer! There was a mob of students and teachers. They all chanted: murderer, murderer, murderer...

They were all pointing at her and accusing her. Murderer. They laughed at her stupidity. Murderer. She'd trusted evil after all. Murderer. Foolish. Murderer, murderer, murderer... It grew louder and louder. She saw Harry emerged from the crowd. He looked down at her, Ginny reached out to him and he looked at her like she was filth. She tried to plead with him. Ron then came and stood by Harry. "You almost killed my Hermione," Ron said furiously. "No! No, it was Tom. Tom made me do it!" She screamed trying to make them understand. She was crying so hard. She fell to her knees and reached a hand out towards the hem of Harry's robes. He pulled away from her instantly.

"Don't touch me," he said disgustedly. "You stupid, little girl. You're nothing but a filthy murderer!"


Ginny sat up quickly. She was sobbing quietly. She wiped her eyes and poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher on her night table. She glanced at the clock. Five after four. She walked to her trunk and quietly got out a piece of parchment, a quill, and an inkbottle.

Draco had said that his healer had urged him to write poetry after he'd seen his father kill his mother. Of course, he had refused because, "Draco Malfoy doesn't do poetry, love. Let's leave things like that to Potty the Pansy."

Ginny, however, had no qualms against poetry. In fact her own healer highly recommended it to her when she had mentioned her trouble sleeping.

She had no better ideas so she began to scratch away. She finished a good hour later. After a great deal of scratching things out and adding things in she was left with this:

Nightmares

I close my eyes each night and see you smiling back at me.

I've forgotten how to dream, so I know that it is fantasy.

The clock's ticking, as I'm sinking to the place my nightmares scream;

The cold heat of fear whispers that tonight there is no dream.

But I cannot surrender. I must stay and fight again.

And when I am defeated, the numbness will kill the pain.

I'm hoping and I'm praying for a settling finish

But it's always just the same; hurt and rejection never vanish.

Tomorrow night, I'll close my eyes and see your smile there.

"You'll be okay," you're promising. You're lying. I don't care.

I force a smirk (your smirk) and say, "I know." I'm not stupid for agreeing

Cause you're the reason I make my eyes open up the next morning.

She thought she'd done a decent job of it. She let it fall to her night table and she lay back on her bed. She was so exhausted that even if she had another nightmare that night, or morning, she wouldn't remember it when she awoke. And not remembering was like a dream come true.

The End.

-Phoenix Fairy