The Road To Nowhere

Disclaimer: What you don´t recognize from Rowling´s books belongs to me unless otherwise specified.

Author´s Note: I just want to take a moment to beg shamelessly for reviews. I´ve realized that I rather enjoy hearing from those that read my story. So please, if you like what you´re reading let me know. And if not, please let me know as well. And what can I say to those of you who don´t like it? I´m sorry? I´ll try harder next time?

Chapter Eleven

The Norman Coast

"Once I thought my innocence was gone

Now I know that happiness goes on

That´s where you found me

When you put your arms around me

I haven´t been there for the longest time..."

Billy Joel: `For the Longest Time´

Ron stopped in the middle of the crowded street, wrenching his arm out of Hermione´s vice grip. "What is the matter with you? You´re running as if someone were chasing you."

Hermione dropped half of her books on the rain sodden street as Ron´s sudden movement put her off balance. She knelt down to retrieve them. Her hands shook and she dropped the other equally wet through books in her arms. Finally, the small notebook, still held fast in her white-knuckled grip, the thin cardboard that housed those small and terrifying coincidences and predictions, all coming true to foretell something bigger than all of them. Was there a way to stop this? Hermione felt helpless. She didn´t even know what it was that loomed so ominously on the horizon. Whatever it was Harry and Ginny were committed to it unknowingly and she felt their danger acutely. Another was also committed to this battle of the ages, of good and evil--such a cliché, Hermione was aware of this, but there was no other word that lent the situation its full weight. The other chosen one was still out there, unnamed, unknown, unaware of their uphill battle against an enemy hundreds of years old. In desperation, she flung the small, wet article against the wall of the record shop they had stopped in front of, nearly clipping the leg of a hurrying businessman. She sat down on the wet and filthy London sidewalk, aware all the time of Ron´s scrutinizing and unmoving stare.

"What´s going on, Hermione?" he asked, a little more warily this time.

She didn´t have the words or the voice to respond, she only shook her head.

Ron busied himself with collecting the mass of books and papers that she´d scattered about the sidewalk, and finally collected his friend. Taking her by the arm, he led her to the deserted alley behind the record shop, strewn with soggy cardboard boxes and puddles of rainwater. Hesitating a bit, Ron let go of Hermione long enough to produce his wand. Taking Hermione´s hand again, he Apparated both of them back to the safety of the Burrow.

***

"Madame," the house elf in front of him squealed, opening a door to a bright and elegantly appointed sitting room, "Sirius Black is here to see you, Madame."

Gisella smiled warmly and thanked the house elf, who retreated.

"Hello, Ella. You´re looking well," Sirius said, moving into the room to kiss her cheek.

"Oh, I do not. I´m an old woman and look very ill, I assure you. But you are a shameless flatterer, you always have been," Ella laughed.

Sirius walked aimlessly around the room. He´d been here many times. Ella was like a second mother to him and he´d always felt as comfortable in her house as in his own home with his mother. One sight, wholly unfamiliar to this room´s usual appointment, caused him to stop suddenly in painful remembrance. He moved closer to the instrument and place a tentative finger on the blood red hue of its scroll.

"Dale´s cello," he said in a low voice, unaware of Ella´s eyes, which had followed him around the room. Her laugh recalled him from his recollection.

"Lord bless you, I haven´t heard her called that in the longest time," she stopped a moment and her expression darkened slightly, "I miss her so much."

"She played beautifully. I remember spending much of my seventh year holed up in the Owlery listening to her, entranced even. I think I was in love with her then," Sirius smiled and turned to the window out of which was a perfect view of the Bay of the Seine and the English Channel beyond that. His attention rested on two figures on horseback, a boy on a chestnut and black horse, Dale´s boy no doubt, his platinum blond hair was visible even from that far away. Next to him on a less sure-footed steed of a tan color sat a wobbly redhead, her ponytail bouncing wildly as she bounced precariously along the mouth of the River Orne.

"She talked of you often, I don´t mind saying now that she´s gone. She would have been mortified for you to know that if she were still here. I think she was always in love with you, dear boy," Ella smiled, causing Sirius to blush slightly. He turned back to the two young riders on the beach to avoid Ella´s penetrating gaze.

"Have you been playing?" She asked as means of subject change.

"I haven´t picked up the violin since before I went to prison," Sirius shook his head, dismissively. That, in fact, wasn´t wholly true. He´d played for Remus. `Danny Boy´; the last song he´d ever play. His violin was Remus´ now. Sirius would never play again. The three people who´d ever encouraged him to practice harder at it were dead. Remus, Dale and his mother, June, were the whole of his audience.

"That´s a shame. You were a true talent, dear. Dale was very envious of you at school." She laughed again. It was good, Sirius thought, for both of them to share their memories of a lost friend and daughter. It helped them not to miss her so much, even though she´d been dead for nearly a year and a half. Most of their meetings as of late had been all business. Sirius never talked of his late school friend with her mother. Only the sight of her beloved cello had prompted him to do so now.

"Anyway," Ella began with a smile, "it belongs to her daughter now, Lucy. She plays just as beautifully as her mother ever did." Ella smiled with all of the pride of a grandmother when talking of the accomplishments of her grandchildren.

Sirius sat across from Ella. "I didn´t know that she had a daughter. I only knew of her son."

Ella nodded gravely, "You´ve been gone a long time, Sirius. Things change, I´m sorry to say. But I´m not sorry about some things, my grandchildren being two of them. Their father is a horrid man. But those two are more her children than his. She had more of an influence over them than he would ever hope to. I intend to keep it that way." Anger flashed in her eyes. Dale´s husband was always unsafe territory with Ella. She was a kind and charitable woman, but her kindness never extended far enough to include Lucius Malfoy.

Narcissa Dale Bertrand became Narcissa Dale Malfoy the summer after Sirius´ third year in law school. It was a shock for anyone who´d known Dale from school or was in anyway connected with the Bertrand family. Dale and her family had moved to England the summer after her sixth year at Beauxbatons. She and Sirius had become fast friends after discovering each other´s passion for the strings. Sirius would spend many hours later in life wishing he´d been the first to win Dale´s heart. But she was dead now and that was the end of that.

Sirius shook the thought from his mind and set to work. This was a business meeting and business would not be put off.

Gisella Bertrand was one of four financial investors in the underground operation that used non-Ministry channels to close in on the supporters of Voldemort. Sirius was also one of these investors and the coordinator of all field operations. Their goal was to bring down the very inner circle of Voldemort´s crime and terrorism syndicate before they grew too powerful to be dealt with. Already, the Dark Faction´s abilities and connections were growing worrisomely out of hand. It wouldn´t be long before all was over--one way or another.

***

Fiddling with the lock that held the wheels of her chair to their spot, Lucy stared out of the large library windows and onto the beach where Draco and Ginny were disappearing around the beachhead with a mixture of envy, despair and relief. She would never let any of these emotions gain the better part of her. The only part of these she´d even pay any mind to was relief, but it wasn´t relief for her, it was for her brother.

She´d seen the effects of her father´s sway over him for years now. It had scared her sometimes. When he was younger, it was normal for him to spout their father´s tired dogma about a pure wizarding world, cleansing it of the mudblood filth that clogged its arteries now. It was practically drilled into him at a young age, as long as Lucy could remember, in fact. As she watched Draco grow into his own person, she found that he was fighting their father´s beliefs more in favor of examining all of the facts for himself, coming to his own conclusions.

Sure, her worry might seem a little hypocritical to anyone who wasn´t close to the situation (and really no one was close to it. With their mother gone, Lucy was the only one around to counteract her father´s effects on her brother). At a very young age, her father had determined that Lucy was a weakling, not worthy to take up his mantle as he was teaching Draco to do. She, mercifully, had been left to her mother´s teachings. She grew to appreciate everything and everyone on an individual basis. She saw the flaws in the muggle way of life and government, but also its advances and accomplishments. Likewise, the wizarding world had its flaws and immense beauty and worth. All this, her mother taught her to recognize while Draco was drilled in the art of dueling and trained to recite the ten Pillars of the Dark Faction. If it weren´t for her mother´s gentle and subtle influence over Draco, he would have been beyond reach a long time ago.

But still. Lucy´s influence, though kindly received, was waning. She wasn´t as strong as her mother, though her conviction was no less genuine. Her father´s beliefs were wrong. Draco was on a precarious edge between what was right and all that was wrong and threatening to invade the innocent people of the wizarding and muggle worlds alike.

She couldn´t explain how she knew it, but she felt that Draco´s situation was a vital one. Win him for the wrong side, and the Dark Lord would be invincible. The way of life that they had all thrived upon would falter under his tyrannical rule. Good would die and evil would rule indefinitely.

Her relief came yesterday when she´d met Ginny Weasley.

She could tell immediately that this slight, fiery redhead had the sort of influence over Draco that Lucy had despaired of losing. Lucy was in no doubt that her brother still adored her very much, but she feared that she could not be around him often enough to remind him to examine first and judge second. He began to treat her differently after her accident three summers ago. He was more protective of her and had taken up a role as her guardian rather than the one he´d served before as brother and friend. He listened to her advice less and spent more time worrying about her more. She knew that it was not her job to carry out her mother´s lessons in grace and forgiveness anymore.

Ginny was the one that had to protect him from his father´s warped plans now. And she had to do it so as not to arouse Draco´s suspicion. He would spurn any sort of guidance or protection if he were aware of it. Ginny had all of the kindness and patience that Lucy´s mother had possessed, she saw it immediately. The other point that struck her upon meeting Ginny, Lucy was particularly pleased to note, was that she evidently loved Draco.

She may not even know it yet, but Lucy knew it for certain. She was adept at character reading. She delighted in catching someone´s eye at the hospital or at school and taking a peek at their soul. Not a gift, per se, but an attuned observation exercise. It was particularly helpful around her father´s friends. That was how she discovered Professor Snape´s disguise as Bartemius Crouch, Jr. Lucy kicked herself mentally at the thought. If she were as wise as she always gave herself credit for being, she would have warned Professor Snape that the rest of Voldemort´s party was on to him as well, but that, she never did. Many lives were lost when Hogwarts had been invaded. She wasn´t the angel everyone took her for. She had the blood of many innocents on her hands.

But she knew a blessing when she saw one and Ginny was an answer to her prayers.

***

"She likes you. I can tell that much," Draco offered with a smile, Emile´s hooves padding a soft rhythmic beat into the soft sand of the beach.

Ginny laughed and shook her head, "How can you tell?"

"She let you ride Master Shakespeare. No one rides that horse. Lucy´s fiercely protective of him." Draco directed Emile alongside the sandy colored horse that bore Ginny and gently reached over to correct the way she held the horse´s reigns. She was a fast learner, but she still flopped about too much. But her seat would improve if she kept at it. She could make a fine horsewoman.

"She´s sweet. I like her very much," Ginny began, but hesitated, biting her lip and also the question that begged to be answered. Ginny would not be impertinent and poke her nose in other people´s business, especially not the business of a precious girl like Lucy.

Draco remained silent, looking ahead of them at the harbor where a couple of fishing boats were heading in for the day. He knew what it was that Ginny was fearing to ask but desperate to know all the same. He spoke after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. "You want to know what happened to her, don´t you?" His voice contained an almost tangible edge, but he remained patient.

Ginny recoiled slightly. She knew that this was thin ice she was treading. She might have wandered onto a topic that she´d do better to leave alone. She was about to apologize and humbly admit that it was none of her business when Draco did something wholly unexpected and uncharacteristic: he let her in.

"The emergency staff was told that it was a riding accident when she was brought in," he began. The sharp edge never left his voice. "Any medical assistant flunky could tell straight away that those injuries were not because of a fall. Well, maybe if the horse had trampled her. But it wasn´t a horse." He would not look at Ginny, only straight ahead. His jaw was set in hard lines, but his face was expressionless. Ginny was heartbroken and terrified all at once. He made it seem so easy to be a brick wall. He seemed as though none of this had bothered him, that it was inconsequential. He was raised this way. Though, she knew how much it must have hurt, how helpless he must have felt, how terrified he must have been for Lucy at that moment.

"There´s something you must understand about Lucy. She is unrelentingly antagonistic. Her favorite pastime used to be spying and she was good at it. With all of the secret meetings that took place among my father and his associates, she had plenty of opportunity. On a handful of occasions she was caught and I intervened as often as I could. But one afternoon, the day that the Hogwarts Express was to arrive at King´s Cross Station at the end of my fourth year, I was on it and unable to stop my father." His eyes were glazed over with a sort of automatic indifference, only his voice betrayed his guilt, and only then it was the slightest waver in tone. In all other respects he was collected, as if he was merely relaying a weather report.

"He was unforgiving. It was just after that whole incident with Potter and Diggory. She never told me what it was that she was listening in on, but it must have been vital to the Faction. She nearly died. And the doctors looked the other way. My father owned them all." He was so numb to the emotions that he must have felt that day, the terrifying reality of how close he´d come to losing his sister, that he wondered how long Ginny´s hand had been clasped in his when he finally noticed that it was. He hadn´t felt much after that but a fierce need to protect Lucy at all costs and the intense and blinding hatred for the man that had nearly taken her away, the same man that had taken his mother away, just later that same year.

He chanced a look at Ginny who was staring back in astonishment and sympathy, a tear rolled down her cheek. Hey, that story was worth a tear at least, even if it was impossible for Draco to do so. He was glad for it. He would have shed a tear for Lucy if he could. But crying was as alien as poverty to him. He didn´t even understand it. But he felt as much as any human could endure to feel in that situation. It hurt him to see Lucy so broken, the memory of it hurt just as much. He swallowed hard.

"I´m sorry," Ginny managed through wide-eyed sadness. Draco feared that it might´ve been too much to relate all at once, but lately it just didn´t feel right to keep things from her. She was slowly becoming a steady fixture in his life--a pleasant, warm and kind sort of fixture for a change.

He didn´t let go of her hand. It was the first time he´d made a real human connection with anyone--been completely open and honest, let his guard down. Even around his mother and his sister, he was closed off in the smallest degree. He held some things apart from them. But Ginny was different. It was the way she ignored his arrogance, looked past his faults, discarded his potential as anything other than human and in need of love just as much as the next. Lucy loved him, true. But she loved him in spite of his faults, as did his mother. Ginny seemed to love him entirely, faults included--and that was something wholly new to him. He wasn´t eager to let that connection go. He might have been imagining the whole thing entirely.

"I can´t believe that it took all of that, nearly losing her, to make me see it. My father´s not the hero I used to think he was." Draco spurned Emile further on and Ginny followed more precariously behind him on Master Shakespeare.

***

Sirius had relayed all pertinent information to Ella, leaving his meeting with Peter out of conversation. Arabella was the only person privy to that information other than Sirius himself.

Ella was suspicious. She knew he was leaving things out. But she realized, unlike the other investors, how much he had tied up in this covert investigation. His godson was one of Voldemort´s most hunted victims. One of his best friends from school was at Voldemort´s beck-and-call. His other two friends were dead as a result of the one´s betrayal. He´d lost twelve years of his life in a jail cell meant for someone else. His mother had died virtually alone while he served out another´s rightful sentence. And the list of grievances that Sirius could have claimed against the Dark Faction, and Mr. Pettigrew specifically, would go on and on until this was stopped permanently.

Ella was not without a personal stake in this struggle that they were fighting in vain hopes that good would someday win out. Her daughter had been killed for her part in it. Dale had been passing information against Voldemort and her husband in the very last months leading up to her death. She was taking up where her daughter left off, if not for the sake of the wizarding world at large, than for her two grandchildren that had been born into the middle of all of it. She was doing it for them mostly, and for revenge partly. Lucius Malfoy would be safe behind bars or better yet dead by the time Gisella Bertrand drew her last breath.

Feeling her anger rising with the thought of her insipid son-in-law, Ella pushed the thought to the back of her mind, in hopes that it would motivate her better to think on him when her anger might be put to a profitable use--planning a lawsuit against him perhaps. He may be powerful inside his circles and out as well, but she still had influence of her own, honest influence, which counted for more than bribery. She would have custody of Lucy by the end of the year. That was a sure thing.

"You understand, of course, that you are under no obligation to me to accecpt. I could easily find a hundred lawyers willing to take up the case. But I wanted to offer it to you first off. You are the best there is," Gisella said with a smile, continuing with her proposal that Sirius head up her case against Lucius Malfoy. "It would be open and shut. He is an unfit parent. He nearly beat her to death. And besides, he never wanted anything to do with her. He wanted to drown her at the age of three. It was Dale that made him reconsider."

Sirius shook his head. The entire story was overwhelming. How could someone beat an eleven-year-old child to within an inch of her life, leaving her paralyzed from the waist down? Of course he wanted to help Gisella gain custody of the child, even though he´d never met her, he was automatically endeared to her because of her mother. But he had other responsibilities that came before his duty to his friend and her daughter. He was heading up a very large and very secret organization that may be the only hope that the wizarding community might ever have to be rid of the dark tyrant that they´d lived in fear of for so long. He had a duty to Harry, whom he hadn´t even seen in two and a half months. Anything that would keep him from fulfilling his promise to James in raising his son would have to take its place on the back burner for a while. At least until the threat to Harry´s life had been removed completely. That might be a very long time in coming.

He felt awful, but he could not commit to a task that formidable with all of the other pressing matters he had to attend to at the moment. With much regret, he turned Ella down.

"I understand. It would have been easy to win the case if you had taken it up. But I can find another representative just as easily. I know you´ve got other things to worry about, dear. And it always seems to slip my mind that you have a child of your own to look after." Ella smiled, but with disappointment.

"Yes, I have. But he´s actually not all that young. He turned seventeen a few weeks ago. He´s always attracting trouble, you see. He´s had a few near misses with Voldemort and all. He really is a full time job to protect all on his own. Not that I´m complaining, I love him as if he were my own and that´s why I have to turn you down, Ella. I´m very sorry," Sirius frowned. He would like to see Lucy out of her father´s custody, the same as Ella. But he couldn´t possibly take on such a task.

"Oh," she waved a dismissive hand, seeing him to the door, "don´t be sorry, dear. You do what you can. I can´t blame you for that." She leaned over to kiss her young friend, "You take care of yourself now and Harry as well. I´ll be in touch with you if I find out anything at this end. Goodbye, love."

***

"Jesus!" was Ron´s ineloquent, wide-eyed response to the entirely unbelievable circumstances that Hermione related to him. She sat in her bathrobe and wet hair, with her feet propped up on the windowsill of the sitting room in the Burrow, sipping her hot chocolate with a completely unsurprised expression. She knew it would blow Ron away. The shock would wear off momentarily.

"We should tell someone, shouldn´t we?" was his next comment, showing that he was coming out of it just fine.

Hermione shook her head, blowing the steam from her mug. "Who would we tell? You saw the look Dr. Beckett gave me when I´d mentioned the founders and their chosen ones. He thought I was mental. No one would believe us," she said with authority.

"I´m not sure I believe you, Hermione," Ron said weakly.

She leveled an incredulous glare at him. "We don´t even know what Voldemort has in mind. I really haven´t found out much. The other chosen one is still a mystery to me. Ginny´s got the Pensieve with her. I don´t know what she´s found out from it. Not much I gather. She was supposed to let me know if she came across anything."

"How are you going to tell Harry? If you´re sure it´s Harry, even," Ron said doubtfully. He was becoming infuriating. Did he think that she was making this all up for her own amusement? She wasn´t that bored out of school.

"Tell Harry what?" a voice from the hall behind them asked suspiciously. Both Ron and Hermione turned slowly to see Harry standing there, very interested in why his name had come up in their conversation.

Well, best to get it all out there now than put it off, Hermione thought.

"You better have a seat, Harry. This may take a while to explain," Hermione admitted, causing Harry to glance suspiciously at Ron and then back at her before doing as she instructed. And she began the whole incredible tale over again, leaving out no details.