The Nightmare of Reality
Chapter 6

She didn't know that he was thinking about her just as much as she was thinking about him. She pushed that moment away, it has just been an act of seduction for him, a way of convincing her to take all of her clothes off, an act with nothing but sexual desire lacing its very fiber. He was just a boy who thought of nothing but sex, while she was just another target for him, that's what she told her self, over and over again.

She'd steal glances at him every so often, his hair once again slicked back, his cheeks once again pale. He still held attraction, she couldn't deny that. He was still cute even if he looked like a greasy git. His eyes were piercing, a little warmer, but still piercing even if they never fell on her. His body was that of a god, she had to admit. She knew underneath those robes lay hard muscle.

She tore her eyes from him, the tingling in her stomach was too much. She looked down at her food, still thinking about him. He'd been so gentle yet so ferocious that night. The kiss had been so perfect, elicited so many feelings in her, feelings she never thought she'd have for someone. He'd been gentle though, even if his lips had moved in this way that sent shivers of pleasure through her body, he'd been gentle. She hadn't expected that, expected Draco Malfoy to be gentle, how could he? He was cold and hard, not warm and gentle. But she'd felt it, she'd felt the warmth and emotion flowing through them. He was so much more than she ever expected.

She fought the urge to look back up, but she didn't win. Her eyes slowly moved to him. He looked as if he was bored, not really paying attention to those around him. He looked at her, his eyes sparkled and her head quickly snapped back down.

It had been days, no weeks, since that kiss, but she still longed for it, thought about it endlessly, thought about him endlessly. She'd sit everyday facing the Slytherin table hoping to catch a glimpse of him, maybe his back, the way he sat perfectly straight, the form of his shoulders pulling her eyes in attraction. She hadn't seen his back, he never sat with his back facing her, not anymore. He always sat facing her, to taunt her maybe, to let her know that he knew she was watching him.

She finished her food quickly and walked out of the dining hall. She couldn't stay there, knowing that he knew she'd been stealing glances at him. She'd been wishing for so long that he'd return the feelings, tell her he felt the same way, but she knew it was a lie, a horrible lie she continually told herself.

She walked in a big circle her arms hugging her body tightly, not really paying attention to where she was going. She looked up and found herself back at the dining hall. She hoped he wouldn't be there, waiting for her, waiting to deal the final blow that would break her heart.

She started to walk again, accidentally going in that circle. Her pace quickened as if she was being chased. She didn't break into a run, she just hugged herself tighter and took larger and quicker steps.

"Ginny!" she heard him say. How could he find her? Why would he want to?

Her pace quickened again and she turned from her circle. She ran up flights of stairs, her breath becoming ragged seconds before reaching the portrait of the fat lady. She whispered the password and walked through the hole while he called her name for the second time.

She collapsed into a chair, her breath labored. She waited for her breath to calm, thoughts speeding through her head. She wanted to know why he'd been chasing her, why he'd taken the time to follow her, calling her name.

She liked the way it sounded coming from his lips. His attractive draw saying her name, almost like a dream. It had caused her spine to tingle, even as she tried to escape him, her heart was fighting to stop and wait for him to catch up. She hadn't listened, she didn't want to know, she wasn't ready for that rejection yet.

Her breath finally returned to normal and she looked up. Harry and Lily were sitting on the chair across from her. They hadn't even noticed her come in and sit down. She envied them, the way their lips moved in a slow sensual dance. She paid close attention to the way his hands explored her body, never moving into forbidden areas. He caressed her back, her thigh, her butt in a way that made Ginny tingle with desire, he cupped her head in a caring way, holding her as if she were glass. She could tell Lily enjoyed his touch, she could see her occasionally grind her hips onto his, wanting to appease that desire. Her hands were gripping him tightly, sometimes his sides, other times his arms, or his thighs as she pulled his body into hers.

Ginny knew that no matter how much desire lay between them, they'd never take the step they wanted, not until they were married. She knew Harry and Lily better than that, they were righteous and virtuous. Sex was a word not in their vocabulary, not until they were married would it be explored, and only in the most loving and sensual way.

Ginny's cheeks and ears were burning a bright red as she watched the two, thinking of her own desires. She wished Harry would kiss her that way, even if she didn't have feelings for him anymore, it would be nice to have someone kiss her like that. She'd rather have Draco's hands caressing her like that, moving in a sensual way that would drive her insane with desire. She'd rather have his hips to grind into, his touch on her body.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Stop!" he yelled at her. He was angry, sick of the way she'd been treated him, sick of the way she'd ignored him, pushed him away. His words were seeping with anger, as if he'd been stabbed in the back. She'd hurt him, even if by accident.

"Stop what?" she asked, her words coursing through his veins, trying to push the anger away. The power in her voice was unintentional, she didn't mean to consul him, help him through the pain. She wasn't considerate at the moment, she'd become hard and cold.

He could feel it, the coldness, like a wind blowing through his soul, "Pushing me away!" As he said it, she slid back a step. She'd moved away from him, she'd never moved away. She'd always wanted him to come closer, to hold her, to love her.

He took a step forward and again she glided back.

"Don't close your heart to me," he said softly. Was she becoming the person he had once been?

"Close my heart to you?" she said maliciously. Was this the same girl who had admitted his love to? "Ha! You're nothing but a horrible greasy git!" It wasn't her, her voice had changed. She'd become someone else. She wasn't a variation of the girl he loved, but a whole other person.

He looked closer, her hair became golden blonde, her thin frame thickened, her height dwindled a few inches. Her soft slender nose became short and pig like, her eyes turned from brown to a cold blue that made him shiver.

He jumped, his chest flying up. He'd never had a nightmare before, not with the girl in it. She'd always brought nice thoughts, pleasant thoughts, even if hadn't known who she was.

His heart was pounding rapidly, his breath was labored, as if he'd just run twenty miles.

He felt hands groping at his chest and looked down. There she was, the pudgy blonde girl that had invaded his dreams and his bed. He hadn't let her in, she'd snuck in while he was sleeping. He wiped his mouth hoping she hadn't kissed him, hadn't tainted the lips that had been made pure by the touch of Ginny's. He hadn't kissed a girl since her, hadn't had the company of a girl since that night, hadn't felt the roaming hands on his body.

He pushed himself out of the bed, wearing only a pair of linen pants. Happy that he'd had that for if he hadn't, Pansy's hands would have roamed farther. He wondered why they hadn't, the obstacle of pants had never stopped her before, what was different now.

He pulled them up, covering the small amount of pubic hair that had been showing, he had on no underwear. They had shifted on his hips during his sleep, falling below his hipbones, revealing the start of a sandy patch of pubic hair.

She was staring at his upper body, his chest hairless and his stomach with only a thin line of sandy blonde hair down the center.

He crossed his arms, knowing it wasn't hiding much of his body.

"Get out," he said angrily. He'd told her hours ago that he didn't want her in his bed, he'd pushed her from his room the first time she'd slipped in, and would do it again without a second thought.

She looked hurt, "But Draco," she pleaded while batting her eyes at him, "don't you want me?" Her bottom lip jutted out in a way that made Draco want to puke, she was disgusting as was every other girl that had come to his room.

"I've got better things to do than ride the village bicycle," he spat.

She looked hurt, but quickly recovered. "Practice makes perfect," she said trying to seduce him, though it only pushed him away more.

He almost laughed, "Guess you need more practice, because you've definitely never done it for me." He wasn't lying, he'd always done the work in the bedroom, always pleasured her so he could pleasure himself. He was tired of it, tired of the emotionless sex, he wanted something deeper, even if it was from a poor mudblood lover.

"Never stopped you from moaning," she spat at him, now abandoning her attempt. She wouldn't get him, not tonight, not ever. She didn't know he was lost for good, she thought he was just angry over something, or playing hard to get.

He laughed, "I did all the work, you wouldn't get off if it weren't for me," he was almost bitter, but the humor of the situation was getting to him. He was fighting off his female equivalent in the house, to become celibate, until he won his prize that is.

"I could too!" she fought back, making herself sound more pitiful than she already was.

He laughed again, "Good, go back to your room and do it!" The thought of that sent images through his head that he didn't to be there, no matter how interesting they were.

She left and he collapsed onto the bed, his head swimming with thoughts of Ginny and her hair blowing in the wind and snow.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Stop!" he screamed, his anger still present.

His anger scared her a little. She could see that his anger was fueled by pain; it was that pain that scared her. What could be that horrible to pain him? Of all the times she'd seen him, he'd only been hurt once, when she claimed she hated him. A tear slid down her face, knowing it was her fault he was in pain. She denied it, telling herself that it wasn't her fault.

"Stop what?" she asked curiously. She wanted to know, to try to help him while fighting the urge to not care.

His eyes widened, scared that it was a nightmare again. He paused, waiting for her to change again. He thought if he waited long enough she would change and he wouldn't have to reveal his pain again.

She didn't change, she didn't move, she just watched him, her caring eyes fixed on him. He tried to see if she was really her, really the woman he loved, but he couldn't tell.

"Stop pushing me away," he said his anger returning.

He waited for her to snap at him, for her to get angry and change, for his dream to fade into a nightmare.

"Why? Why should I?" she said bitterly. She wasn't changing, she was still sincere, no matter how bitter her words were, she was still the woman he loved.

"I love you," he said softly, "I told you not to let me go." He had, he'd said those words so many weeks ago, but why were things different now? They'd had more dreams, she'd held on, refusing to let him go, their fingers were touching even now, but things had changed. They were groping for their love, knowing it was there, even if hidden. The dream world was a place where things were easy, but the real world was different. Neither was able to drop the block they had around themselves, only able to peer through the tiny holes that closed after seconds. It wasn't their love that was failing, but their unfailing will. They refused to believe that they were each other's dream person, the one that visited so often, the one they loved. That will was tearing them apart, bit by bit.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

AN: You've taken the time to read... so please review!