The Road To Nowhere

Chapter One

Yelling back

"Please come now I think I´m falling

I´m holding on to all I think is safe

It seems I´ve found the road to nowhere

And I´m trying to escape

I yelled back when I heard thunder

But I´m down to one last breath

And will it let me say

Let me say...

Hold me now

I´m six feet from the edge

And I´m thinking

That maybe six feet ain´tso far down..."

Creed: `One Last Breath´

"Come on then, Harry!" he heard Sirius shout from the foot of the stairs. Folding the last few articles of clothing and shoving them carelessly into his trunk, Harry called back, "Nearly finished. Will you grab Hedwig´s cage for me. I think I left it by the door."

Harry liked this house far better than the one he and Sirius had lived in for a short time after fifth year. It had none of the lofty, drafty rooms. You could never feel lonely in this house the way you could at Hampstead Green Park. Harry could feel the unpleasant memories drifting about silently in that old manor. He wasn´t sad to note how fast it had gone at auction, but curious to note why his godfather was so eager to get rid of such a grand piece of real estate, and one inherited at that. He wasn´t too experienced with the affairs of stuffy, elitist land owners and their inheritors, but he was pretty sure that inheriting a house of this quality wasn´t the full out tragedy that Sirius played it out to be.

All for the best, Harry thought as he dragged his trunk down the wooden stairs, he liked this house much better. It was a vast deal smaller. He wouldn´t easily find himself lost on the wrong floor in this house as he often did in the other one when he was looking for his own room.

It was then that it struck Harry. He´d always enjoyed leaving whatever hell he´d fallen into, always excited to be going to Hogwarts or the Burrow. And yet, now as he was presently packing to leave for the Burrow to stay with his friends, the Weasleys, he suddenly realized that leaving home, for once, would be hard. He´d lived in this small Victorian house on the outskirts of Belfast for a little less than a year. Belfast was Sirius´ hometown as a boy. He didn´t even consider Hampstead Green his home. He´d left that nightmare behind at the age of five. No, he loved Belfast and if Sirius loved it, so did Harry. Harry´s world had constricted pleasantly to allow for two of the things he loved the most: school and his godfather. There was room for nothing else, no Dursleys and no evil dark lords on the attack. Harry had had a quiet sixth year and the scars that lingered from the fifth year, although by no means gone, had faded somewhat.

They had faded for Harry. Others would show theirs for an eternity.

Harry feared that Hermione would never be the same know-it all girl that irritated the Potions Master with a ready answer. The death of ParvatiPatil, dorm mate and friend, had weighed too heavily on her for too long. She still had not forgiven herself for being a second too little too late.

But it wasn´t just Hermione. All of the wizarding community still felt the loss of those who´d died that day, nearly a year and three weeks later. The Ministry suffered. Hogwarts suffered. But in Harry´s opinion, none suffered more than Sirius. He´d lost his best friend, a childhood friend, one that had stood beside him when everyone else had thought he was a murderer. Even though he would maintain that he was tracking down all of those who´d inflicted so much damage to their way of life in one unforgettable day, Harry knew that he was hunting Peter expressly. Peter would pay for what he´d done to Harry´s parents all those years ago and he would pay for murdering his last friend and the noblest man he´d ever known only thirteen short months ago. Sirius never spoke of that day. He never spoke of what he and the newly reformed Ministry were getting up to.

But Harry knew something was up, whether good or bad, he couldn´t say. Sirius had told him that Ministry business had called him away for a few weeks. He´d seemed very troubled about this new development and even told Harry to pack all of his things for school, giving Harry the impression that he was to stay at the Burrow for the rest of the summer. He just couldn´t tell what was going on. Sirius had become a closed book.

***

"It should be only for a month or two. Besides, I know you´d like staying the summer with Ron better than me," Sirius said with a smile as they pulled up to the Burrow in Sirius´ black Mercedes (very nondescript, undercover and all of that). He´d insisted on driving all the way instead of traveling by magic. Harry suspected that he was feeling a little guilty for being so distant since he´d come back from school and now shipping him off for the duration of the summer. That and the car was new.

"I know. You´re busy with things at the Ministry, that´s quite all right," Harry said, sounding a little more miffed than he´d intended.

"Harry, I´m sorry about all this. But it is important that I go. No one knows Peter like I do," under his breath he muttered, "or at least I thought I did."

Harry nodded his head. He knew all of this. He didn´t want Sirius to feel guilty about leaving. He had to go to Florence, the last location of the latest lead on Voldemort. With Sirius in charge of the privately funded search, Harry had seen less and less of him now that he was finally living with his godfather. He wanted Sirius to find Peter--find him and confronthim and just maybe after all of this was over, Sirius would be himself again.

"Have a good time, mate. Hey, when I get back, maybe we could go sink some more of this bloody Ministry money into an obscenely flashy car for you, say as a birthday present."

Harry laughed at the idea. He knew Sirius wasn´t kidding. He disliked what the Ministry had become and refused flat out to come back to work for them. He´d even suspected the new Minister of affiliation to the dark side. He was working his way slowly through the back pay and lost wages that the Ministry had given him as a payoff for twelve years in a prison that made hell look like a day spa. Charities, of course, got most of it. He´d bought the house in Belfast and his own car (just for sport) and he´d still had some to get rid of. Harry imagined he´d look pretty silly behind the wheel of a car like Sirius´. He had none of Sirius´ charm and elegance that lent well to the sleek lines and dark leather. He wanted something fast beyond reason. He would think on it.

"Hey! Harry!" Ron gave his loud salutation as he came down the walk to help Harry with his luggage. "Wow! Nice car Sirius."

"You think it´s a girl magnet? The salesman told me it was a girl magnet," Sirius asked with a raised eyebrow. Ron laughed. Sirius didn´t need a car. He had an incredible pick-up line already, "I´m a wanted criminal." That was better than a car any day.

"Oh, look there! He was right!" exclaimed Sirius, as Mrs. Weasleyappeared, bustling down the walk. Ron groaned very audibly.

"Hello, Harry dear! Sirius you look very fetching in your new automobile. Won´t you come in and have some tea before you´re off? You have such a long trip ahead of you, dear."

Sirius flashed her a winning smile but turned her down regretfully. "Have to be off now," he said exiting quickly before Ron blew a gasket. She was worse around him than she was when Lockhart had a book signing. "Harry, I´ll talk to you soon. Later Ron," Sirius said and then was gone.

***

As usual Hermione sat at the table in the kitchen with her nose buried in a book, a stack of them on the table in front of her.

Ron and Harry had just come in from the garden where they had spent the morning degnoming it. It was a punishment handed down by Molly for yelling at his sister or something to that effect. Harry wasn´t too sure what the cause was but he decided to help out anyway. He thought it was fun.

Ginny was home after a year spent at school in France. She´d spent her entire fifth year at Beauxbatons and had come back taller, quieter and fluent in French. Harry suspected that being home was not where Ginny wanted to be. She kept to her room and ate her meals alone. Or, maybe she just behaved like that because Harry was there. Ron assured him that she´d been acting peculiar since last summer and going away to school had little to do with it. Hermione backed this story up and added that she´s noticed that Ginny looked a little under the weather. Oh no, Harry thought sarcastically, a repeat performance of her behavior during her fourth year. This could get tiresome.

The last time they´d actually spoken, Harry was confined to a hospital bed and Ginny had stormed out on account of Harry not letting her die in Azkaban. He was tired of trying to figure her out. If she wanted to, she could let him into her little world, but Harry had decided long ago that he would not chase after her where she didn´t want him.

She´d said little to him during his stay at her home. He´d only seen her on few occasions when Molly had forced her to eat with them, but as May came to a close, her parents were not around to force her to live like a normal human being. Her father, as always and perfectly understandably, lived at the Ministry. Arthur was still one of Dumbledore´s most trusted connections inside the Ministry. Molly had accepted an invitation to stay with Penelope Clearwater´s family in their home in the lake country of Derbyshire. After Percy´s death, Harry was informed, his fiancé had become very attached to his mother. Ron also offered that she was tired of having to deal with Ginny.

Bill had been left to look after them in the absence of any parental influence. Harry had to laugh at this. He was possibly less responsible than Fred and George. He checked in every so often, but was mostly out late and home late, etc. He had a flare for partying hard.

At present it was just Harry, Ron and Hermione in the house and, although you wouldn´t know it, Ginny was there as well.

"Ron, it´s important that you get a head start on assignments like this," Hermione lectured with none of her usual spirit for arguing. Ron hadn´t argued back since before the end of fifth year. Their relationship had taken the strangest of turns since then. Ron was bothered by the death of his brother, never having actually lost anyone close to him before and had taken the whole thing very hard. Hermione, although Harry never doubted that she would always love Ron, could not be there for him or support him emotionally. She´d suffered as well. They had come to an understanding of sorts to put an end to their relationship that was straining under the pressure and deal with their own problems.

As Harry watched the two of them, he realized that this had only made them stronger people and gave them a stronger friendship in the end.

"Just pick a topic for me. I always hate choosing my own," Ron said thumbing through a dusty old biography on Helga Hufflepuff.

"Fine Ron, but don´t complain when I give you a very difficult one. You need the challenge."

Ron groaned a little before resigning his academic fate to Hermione.

She smiled slightly and asked, "How do you feel about goblin rebellions?"

Ron´s head dropped onto the book with an audible thud causing Hermione to laugh a little before asking if he was all right. Ron was the best thing for her in Harry´s opinion. He hadn´t seen her laugh in a long time.

Undetected by Ron and Hermione, as they were too involved in convincing one another of their viewpoint concerning the upcoming History Thesis they were to present at the end of their final year (a whole eleven months away as Ron put it and only eleven short months in Hermione´s opinion) Ginny slipped into the room under Harry´s scrutinizing stare. Curious, Harry thought as he watched her walk silently to the corner of the kitchen to retrieve something from a drawer there (what, Harry wasn´t certain, she didn´t appear to be holding anything when she turned and saw him staring). Her deadpan expression changed little when she met his eyes. She promptly retreated the way she´d come, but not before she was stopped with a word from Harry.

"Are you alright, Ginny? You don´t look well," Harry knew she would not answer and he´d asked her that at least a dozen times since his stay there began a week ago. Honestly, he had no idea why he insisted on asking. Even though he had realized that they were definitely wrong for each other a long time ago, he still worried about her. She was, after all still a friend and the little sister of Ron. She did really look alarmingly ill.

She turned to leave after acknowledging his concern slightly but was brought back into the room with a comment from Ron.

"You don´t look well," he repeated Harry and then laughed and dodged a warning blow from Hermione. Harry was definitely missing something. "Really Gin, there are dead people who look better than you."

Ginny shook her head and turned to Harry, "No, Harry. I´m quite alright, just a little under the weather lately." She gave a feeble attempt at a smile and made to leave again when Ron commented, "Under the weather! You´re a shameless liar you are."

Harry knew he was definitely missing something now and was becoming very confused. He was just about to ask to be enlightened when Ginny rounded on Ron who was sitting close to the door she was standing at.

"What the hell does that mean Ron? Just come out and say what you´re thinking, why don´t you? I know you´re dying to tell someone. I´m used to being the joke around here. Go ahead, you have my permission." She was full out yelling now. Harry scooted his chair away from Ron´s and hoped that he didn´t call attention to himself. She could scream like her mother, and that would send any man running for cover. Harry was suddenly scared of her, even when she looked this tired and worn and she was a good five inches shorter than him. All of that made no difference. She was terrifying. Poor Ron.

Ron stared at her, mouth open, eyes wide with astonishment.

"I didn´t think so," Ginny said with a raise of her eyebrows and then hurried up the stairs without a word.

"Ron, can I talk to you outside?" Hermione said forcefully taking him by the arm and leading him out into the garden.

"Sure Hermione. What do you want to talk about?" Harry heard Ron say in his best "I´m innocent, don´t hurt me, please!" voice.

Hermione slammed the door behind them.

Harry was alone with a stack of boring, dusty books about the history of the Hogwarts Founders, The Third Goblin Rebellion of 1410 and the like. His eyes fell on a picture and text about a battle in medieval Ireland. Very boring.

***

"I´m going to Diagon Alley, they have an excellent library there and I need more reference material on the Founders. Ron´s coming along, how about you, Harry?" Hermione asked, returning from the garden with a silent, penitent Ron.

Whatever that earlier scene was about he, apparently, was the only one out of the loop. Hermione obviously had picked up on whatever it was that Ginny and Ron were fighting about. Harry felt dim beyond reason.

"Yeah, I´ll go," he said, not really wanting to go to the library but not averse to the idea of getting out of the house.

"Good. I´ll go and change, then and we can be off," she said with a smile as she popped up stairs quickly. Harry heard her stop on the landing and open the door to Ginny´s room, where she´d been staying while at the Burrow.

Harry and Ron both jumped slightly as they heard Hermione´s voice. She was screaming. "Ginny? Oh God!" there was a pause in which they both exchanged puzzled looks, and then, "Ron, Harry, someone get up here quickly!" She sounded frantic and desperate. Harry wondered briefly what Ginny had done to provoke such a reaction.

Ron didn´t hesitate. He was up the stairs in a flash, Harry following with less speed and agility behind him.

"Oh no!" came Ron´s voice, barely above a whisper, as Harry reached the landing behind him. Ron and Hermione were in the room when Harry came through the door.

Upon entering, Harry could distinguish a deathly pale Hermione and a frantic Ron leaning over Ginny who was crumpled in a heap on the floor. There was blood pooling near Hermione´s shoes and a large kitchen knife just beyond.

He stood rooted to the spot.

Hermione´s screaming at the unconscious form before her recalled Harry to the urgency of the situation. As he rushed into the room he could clearly see where Ginny had slashed both of her tiny wrists that were now bleeding freely.

"Move, Ron," Harry commanded, hearing himself as if from a distance. How could he distance himself from this, he wondered as he took Ron´s spot next to his nearly lifeless sister. The only thought that went through Harry´s mind, he would remember later, was that he had to stop the bleeding somehow and get her to a hospital.

He felt for a pulse, finding only a very weak one. She was still alive.

Horrible flashbacks came to mind of the same fragile form at the feet of the menacing statue of Salazar Slytherin, this close to death and Harry unable to do anything for her. He would save her this time, whether she wanted him to or not. He wouldn´t let her die, she meant too much to him, to her family.

He pushed the horrible visions of the past to the back of his mind and instructed Hermione to find something--anything--to tie off her wrists and stem the already ebbing flow.

Hermione did as she was instructed and came dashing back with two white hair ribbons which Harry used to cut off the streams of blood.

"Ron," he instructed, still sounding unearthly calm when he´d had every right to panic, "go call for help, she´s got to get to a hospital soon or she´s not going to make it."

The realization of it made him sick.

Ginny couldn´t possibly die, they needed her too much, he needed her.

He cradled her face in his quaking hands as he vaguely heard Hermione whimpering in the background, "Don´t leave us, Ginny. Please don´t leave us."

Harry watched with horror as her breath ceased her chest from rising and falling.