The Road To Nowhere

Disclaimer: I own my original characters: Lucy, Anni, Imogen, etc. I also own my plot. The rest belongs to Rowling and the big dogs. No infringement was intended.

Author´s Note: If you´re getting bored of the story you can play Spot the Evil Dark Lord along with Ginny. It´s loads of fun. Seriously though, if you are enjoying the story, please drop me a review. I would love to know how my readers are responding to it. Well, I´d say it´s a little more than halfway finished. We´ve got a rough couple of weeks before seventh year starts for our heroic characters (and sixth year in Ginny´s case, fifth for Lucy and Imogen). Just a quick run down, in case any of you were confused on ages and timelines.

Chapter Thirteen

Strange Allies

"We´re strange allies with warring hearts

What wild-eyed beast you be

The space between

The wicked lies we tell

And hope to keep safe from the pain..."

Dave Matthews Band: `The Space Between´

Hermione decided to waste no more time. She was going to break into Hogwarts tonight and no one would stop her.

As the last vestiges of day disappeared--well after ten in the evening, Hermione padded down the creaky stairs of the Burrow and into the kitchen, shoes in one hand and her school bag in the other, filled with what Hermione thought might come in handy--tricks of the trade so-to-speak.

She put her shoes on quickly and walked directly to the sink where a small flowerpot sat on the windowsill there. She grabbed a small pinch of Floo Powder and took up her bag again, stepping closer to the dying fire. As she threw the powder in, she spoke clearly into the flames, "The Three Broomsticks."

She was unaware at that moment that she had been watched the entire time.

***

Draco consulted his watch for about the twentieth time that evening. The minutes were creeping by, but he´d been there for nearly three hours.

He hated hospitals. They recalled the moment he´d stepped off of the Hogwarts Express at the end of fourth year vividly. He´d expected to see his mother there, as she always was, eager to see him again after being gone from home for so long.

She wasn´t there that time, only a nervous-looking servant stood in her place. "Your mother wants you. Quick, Master Draco, we must get you to the hospital," his wavering voice made Draco nervous, but he was feeling insolent at the moment, having just told Potter and his friends off, only to be hexed and left to be trod upon in the train´s crowded passages. The only thing on his mind at the moment was revenge.

He followed the servant, who speedily stowed his baggage in the trunk of the car. "We must Apparate, Master Draco, there isn´t much time to waste." The servant took his hand before it was even offered. Draco didn´t even have time to recoil or scold the servant for being so impertinent. In a half a second´s time they were in the emergency wing of St. Mungo´s. The first thing Draco´s vision had registered was his mother huddled in a corner, shaking and crying hysterically. Draco´s fist impulse was damage control. How could he stop his mother from causing a scene? And where was his father? Was he the one in the hospital? Was he hurt? That was absolute nonsense and Draco knew it almost instantly. His father was invincible--unbreakable. But where was he? And Lucy, wouldn´t she be out of school yet? Beauxbatons was always out a week earlier than Hogwarts.

"What´s wrong, mother? You do realize that everyone is staring at you? Where is father?" Draco asked mechanically. Something was definitely wrong. His mother was distraught and couldn´t find breath enough to explain. She looked to the servant that had brought him here and nodded.

Taking the cue, the servant explained with what little detail he was allowed to use, that Miss Lucy has had an accident.

He had waited with his mother in silent terror for five hours, before the medical team that had been working on her exited the operating room and nodded their permissions that they were allowed to see her briefly before she was to be moved. There was a lot of blood on them--Lucy´s blood. Draco´s chest constricted painfully and his breaths were coming in labored gasps.

She lay nearly lifeless on the gurney she´d been brought in on. Her arm was being cradled in a temporary cast--it being the least of her injuries, would be the last one attended to. Draco found it impossible to stand a moment longer and was thankful that a chair was nearby. He knew almost instantly that this was not a result of a riding accident, she was beaten slowly and methodically and it didn´t take Draco long after that realization to guess whom the attacker had been. His father had done it before, but had never taken it quite this far.

The overseeing surgeon had come silently back into the room pulled his mother to what he thought was a safe enough distance from Draco´s range of hearing. But he´d caught every word and was sick to learn that she´d suffered an alarming amount of internal bleeding. Five hours of surgery and she was still in a precarious state. All of that, and she would never walk again.

"M. Malfoy?" the nurse called with a Haitian dialect that was hard for Draco to understand in all of this distress. "She is not awake yet, but you may see her if you wish."

"Have you had any word from her brother?" Draco asked, coming out of his daze.

"Non, Monsieur. But we are trying. Is there anyone else I could contact for you?" She asked with a sympathetic smile. They must train these people in the appropriate facial expressions to wear.

"Could you please send an owl to Lucy Malfoy? Tell her that I might be here a while. Ginny is fine, but I am going to stay at least until her brother shows up." He gave her the address of his grandmother´s house in town where Lucy was staying and then went in to see Ginny. It was almost as painful as seeing Lucy. But thankfully, Ginny had only a slight overdose. She wasn´t hooked up to any machines, no medical magic had been used and she was breathing on her own. He took her hand in his and kissed her forehead lightly before settling down in a chair beside her for another few hours of waiting.

***

Madam Rosmerta did not live in her pub, but down the street. Hermione was grateful for that for that when she was hurled from the fireplace and headlong into the bar, causing a god-awful crash and clatter of barstools.

She got to her feet immediately, reproaching herself for her lack of grace. She caught her reflection in the mirror behind the bar and almost snorted with laughter. No need for spy makeup now. She was covered in black soot, causing the whites of her eyes to stand out visibly. If she were chased through the dark halls of the school, all she would have to do to evade capture would be to find a dark corner, stand very still and close her eyes. She couldn´t have planned it better herself.

She set the stools back on top of the bar, the way the bartender had left them after she´d mopped up. Hermione made a cursory sweep of the scene to be positive she´d set everything she´d knocked down back in its place. Leaving no trace of her presence behind, Hermione took her wand from her pocket and went to the back of the pub and out through the entrance around back that led to an alley. She used a simple charm to lock the door behind her and walked through the darkened streets to the gates of the castle that were open as usual.

Inside the cool, dark and deserted halls, Hermione stopped and held her breath to listen for signs that the caretaker Filch and his pesky cat were anywhere around. No one seemed to be here and it was an odd feeling for a student used to bustling halls and stern teachers always keeping an eye on them. The thought of free reign through this place was almost intoxicating to the tight laced, no-nonsense Hermione. She could hardly believe her own daring in what she was about to do. She half thought that she would never go through with it. The word expulsion nagged at the back of her mind.

With far more determination that she expected to have at the moment, she charged down the stairs and to the large still life painting of fruit that was the entrance to the kitchens. She tickled the pair and ducked inside as the painting swung back.

She could immediately pick out Dobby in his normal clothing that contrasted starkly with the starched and pressed tea towels of the other house elves.

"I wasn´t expecting to see Miss at school this early. No students are here yet and school has not started--and what is Miss wearing on her face?" Dobby rattled off salutations and questions that overwhelmed Hermione and made her laugh as well.

"I´m here on a mission," Hermione said in a conspiring tone.

Dobby was hooked. His eyes widened with excitement.

"I need your help, Dobby. You´re the only elf for the job and Harry is depending on you," she felt bad only slightly for playing on the unsuspecting elf´s fondness for Harry.

"Dobby will do anything for Miss if Harry Potter needs him to. What is Dobby´s mission? I can do anything Miss. Dobby is a free elf. No master. I can help."

"Good," Hermione smiled. "Do you know the knew password for the gargoyle that guards the Headmaster´s office?"

"Of course, Dobby knows that. Easy. It´s Fizzing Whizbee," Dobby said, puffing out his chest with importance.

"Excellent, come with me," Hermione directed, making for the portrait hole and out of the kitchen, Dobby at her heels. Distractedly fishing through her bag, looking for the Marauder´s Map that she´d stolen from Harry´s room on her way to Ginny´s after they´d laughed at her story. Serves him right, she thought. They should´ve believed her, but they didn´t. Now she was on her own, but the map would prove more valuable than their company anyway.

She nearly jumped and screamed bloody murder as a hand reached out of the shadows next to the painting of fruit. She inadvertently kicked the small house elf into the opposite wall and swung around quickly to land a fist between the eyes of her attacker.

Ron´s hand came up and grabbed her fist centimeters from his nose and he laughed. "You hit like a girl, Hermione!" Harry was laughing too, but not for long. One withering glance from Hermione silence him, if not Ron.

"You two followed me?" she said, pulling her hand out of Ron´s grip and massaging it. He´d grabbed her a little harder than necessary.

"Of course we did. What the hell are you doing? Have you really gone mad?" Ron was shaking his head disbelievingly at her. She really could have hit him at that moment.

"What is this costume you´ve got on?" Harry laughed, surveying her black long sleeves, trousers and trainers, lingering longer on the blackened face.

Hermione was beyond gentle, patient friend and wasted no more breath arguing with the two of them. They´d come all this way just to poke fun at her some more.

Harry was thoroughly shocked when no explanation came, only a very unladylike gesture from his always very proper friend.

"Fine. If we´re playing `Avengers´ here, I get to be John Steede," Harry added, provoked by Hermione´s seething impatience.

"Fine," Hermione shot back, "Then I´m Emma Peale, which means I´m running this show and you do as I say," she added, getting up in Harry´s face and poking a finger roughly in his chest, causing him to back down slightly. "And I say shut up and follow me." She turned and headed down the hallway, calling for Dobby to get up off the ground and come as well.

Harry and Ron fell into step behind her and the tiny elf.

"Well, then. Who do I get to be?" Ron asked, thoroughly confused by that blatantly muggle exchange back there.

"You can be my trusty umbrella," Harry laughed, ducking a blow from his friend.

"I want to be John Peale, or whoever he is. He sounds tall and you most certainly are not."

"Will you two be serious for two seconds altogether? Honestly, I should just tie you both up and do this job myself." Hermione quipped, consulting the map once again to make sure the way ahead was clear.

"I don´t know if that was an invitation or a threat," Ron said raising an eyebrow suggestively, which made Hermione huff and stomp up the stairs.

"Would you listen to yourself?" Harry said, still amused by the whole scene. "Do this job yourself?" he repeated, "You sound like a hit man or something."

"Hit woman," Hermione corrected as she continued up the stairs. "I wish you two would just trust me. I´ve done loads of nonsense, crazy and even dangerous stuff for you two. More than enough to earn a little respect at least," she said, sounding every bit as crestfallen as she felt. She was a joke to them.

"She´s right, Ron. We should stop," came Harry´s reluctant agreement. "She´s broken into Professor Snape´s office for us once."

"Thanks, Harry," Hermione turned as she came to the gargoyle and smiled at him.

"So does that mean you were just kidding about tying me up?" came Ron´s voice, once again breaking up the seriousness of the situation.

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to Dobby, "What was the password again?"

But Dobby had already uttered the words and the gargoyle was moving aside.

They had gained entrance easily enough, but now for the hard part. Getting past any sort of magical traps Dumbedore had set to protect this valuable weapon--and then, getting out of Hogsmeade with it.

***

Three days since she´d been out of the hospital and Ginny still felt groggy with the effects of the pills and booze she´d consumed. She kept mostly to the couch, getting up only when she needed to. Most of the time, she slept.

"I can´t get out of it. They need me down at the bank this minute," Bill said, coming from the kitchen, "But I´ll stay if you want me to." He was pleading with her to let him go. She didn´t want him to lose his job and goblins were a little bit less sympathetic than normal people about the fact that he had a psycho, suicidal sister to look after. She was feeling much better since she´d been at home and urged him to go to work giving him the slight consolation that Draco was stopping by later, so she wouldn´t be totally alone all evening.

She´d begun to doze a little while after her brother had left but was woken by a familiar knock at the door. Draco was standing on the landing with his arms full of bags.

"I´m cooking for you tonight," he explained as he set his load down in the kitchen.

"Can you cook?" Ginny asked doubtfully. Her reservation must have shown, because he appeared in the entryway of the kitchen a moment later with an offended look on his face.

"Of course I can. And I do it rather well, I don´t mind telling you," he said, returning to the kitchen, occupied.

Ginny knew how disheveled and grungy she must look. She spent most of the day in her pajamas wrapped in her favorite quilt on the sofa. He didn´t even seem to notice how bad she looked--a thought that made her smile. A month ago he would have been eager to point out how she looked worse than hell.

Draco appeared again when everything was set to simmer, moving Ginny´s feet to sit on the sofa next to her and placing them gently in his lap. He looked at her as if he were waiting for an explanation. She sank lower into her quilt as if to hide. She didn´t want to go into this at the moment. But she didn´t want to lie to him. She tried anyway.

"Would you believe me if I told you it was an accident?" she asked.

He shook his head slowly, "No, I wouldn´t. What happened, Ginny?" He asked patiently. "I know something spooked you at the opera and then again when I dropped you off. You can tell me. I´ll help you. You can trust me."

"I do trust you," she said.

"No, no you don´t. Not with this, anyway," he countered, taking one of her feet in his hands and massaging it distractedly.

"It´s complicated and it involves more than just me--It´s stupid. It sounds too crazy. I´m just scared, that´s all." She knew she wasn´t making much sense, but he listened to her as if she made all the sense in the world.

"I understand about wanting to get out of it all. End it. Whatever you want to call it. I wasn´t very successful either." He didn´t even look at her, he was having a hard time telling her this, like when he´d told her about Lucy.

"Lucy´s back problems mean that there is always plenty of morphine on hand. That´s how I did it and it didn´t seem like a bad way to go, at the time."

"But why?" Ginny barely managed. She was shocked at his having tried to kill himself once. He always seemed so calm and collected, an answer for everything and his life perfectly laid out for him.

"My father," he said simply. "He has plans for me, but it´s not what I want at all." He shrugged his shoulders elegantly, "It seemed like the best way out at the time."

"But what about Lucy? Didn´t you think about her at all?" Ginny, felt impertinent as she´d finished the sentence, but she could not take it back once it was spoken.

Draco thought for a moment and then answered, "Did you think about your family at all when you´d tried it the first time, or the second?"

She began to ask how he´d known about the first time she´d tried it. He answered her question before she´d even found the voice to ask, "I´ve seen the scars on you´re wrists, Ginny."

"That was the second time," she admitted weakly.

His eyes widened in surprise, "Jesus! You´ve tried to kill yourself three times?"

She nodded shamefully. There was not enough quilt to hide under, Ginny realized. She felt totally exposed and transparent, though she knew he would not judge her.

"And you can´t tell my why?" He said, fighting impatience all the while, he was the picture of calm outwardly.

She shook her head helplessly, fighting back tears. She didn´t want him to know how she had helped Voldemort become stronger, how she could still help him and how he was hunting her for that purpose. She didn´t want to draw him into the middle of it. And she had no desire to know how he would have taken it if he knew all of this. He was fighting so hard to disconnect himself from all of it--after all it had cost him; after all he had lost.

He got up with the pretense that he had something to do in the kitchen and she took that opportunity to compose herself and dry her eyes. Someday he would understand why he couldn´t have known. She had to keep it from him to protect him, like she had to keep it from Harry for the same purpose. If she were more honest with herself, she would also have to admit how frightening the timing was on Tom´s appearances. It was as if he´d followed Draco to her. He now knew that she had that connection, putting not only him in danger, but Lucy as well.

An awkward silence followed dinner.

She was still unable to steel up the courage to tell him.

But there was something she needed desperately to know.

"Why do you want to know what my reasons are so badly?"

"Because seeing you there, almost dead--actually, at first I thought you were dead, but seeing you like that made me afraid like I haven´t been in years, since--," he stopped. Ginny saw that he did look frightened and she felt guilty for it.

"Since your sister almost died," she finished for him.

"Yes. I thought I would lose you," he said, chancing a glance at her, which she returned a bit unsteadily.

"You wouldn´t understand it, if I told you," she began to explain all of her reasons. His sincerity was compelling her. "You can´t help me. I´m in this alone. I don´t want you hurt."

"Ginny, whatever it is, you can´t do everything on your own. Sometimes you need help, whether you want it or not, Lucy´s always telling me that."

She didn´t want it to come to this, but she would hurt him if it would save him from this situation. She would rather he were safe and hating her than dead because of her.

"I don´t want your help," she spat, it broke her heart to do it, "I don´t need it. I´m not your charity case, Draco."

He was visibly shaken by what she´d said. She knew she had hit her mark and had to bite back an apology for wounding him. He quickly recovered and in the next second had become angry. "Well, then. What´s stopping you from crawling back to Potter? Your knight in shinning armor, is he? Then where is he now? Not here, that´s for certain. You´ll follow him around like a lost puppy until the end of your days and he´ll never know you´re there. It´s pathetic really," he spat back, ripping his coat from the back of the sofa. He was gone in the next second leaving Ginny to sink lower in her blankets and cry until Bill came home.

***

It went without a hitch. Hermione was too irate to encourage insubordination from her team and they´d had the sword in Hermione´s bag and were on their way back to the front entrance.

Dobby had returned to the kitchens via back passages from the office after showering Harry with so much attention that Hermione feared he would have them found out if his goodbyes had taken any longer. Harry received them kindly enough, but had sensed Hermione´s urgency in getting the sword safely back to the Burrow.

"I don´t know why that sword is so important to you, Hermione," Ron said when they´d returned safely to the front room of the Weasley´s home, "but whatever it´s for, I´m beginning to believe your story. You wouldn´t have gone to all of that trouble if it wasn´t important." He looked noticeably shaken by their nearly blown covert mission. Filch was nearly on to them on several occasions.

Hermione smiled. Ron was hopelessly slow sometimes, but that was part of his charm.

She set herself to the arduous task of explaining why she´d thought the sword was so pertinent. Her audience was a rapt one this time. She only wished she could have showed them the scene she´d witnessed in the Pensieve, that was the best evidence she´d seen for Harry as Faramir´s heir, he bore even more of a resemblance to her dark-haired, green-eyed friend than his father did.

***

Ginny was back at work and would start school again next week, for finals. No one knew the particulars of her emergency hospital visit, but no slack was being given her, anyway. And, indeed, she expected none. If all had worked out correctly, she wouldn´t have even been here now. But, as usual, Ginny had botched the job again and had to suffer the consequences of being thrust unwillingly back into her shitty life.

But at least her first day back at work was going as smoothly as she ever hoped for. She wasn´t by herself today. Sophie was with her, and for five more minutes, her boss would be here too. She disliked the man the more she got to know him. He took the phrase, "the customer is always right" to the very extreme and she had some particular customers that had it out for her specifically and would love to see her fired.

She went into the backroom for a moment to grab a pitcher of milk, juggling cookies and various other evil pastries with the other hand. When she´d returned to the front of the shop with her load, she was met with a sight that nearly shot her day to hell.

She most certainly could not deal with Draco Malfoy on top of everything else today. His last comment, two days ago had stung, not because it was in anyway true, but because he´d meant it with every fiber of his being, whereas what she´d said was simply meant to dislodge him from any duty he may feel toward her. It was a mistake to grow so attached to him in the first place, but yet again, that was also Ginny´s fault.

"Not now, Draco. Can we do this later?" she groaned as he blocked her path behind the counter, her load cramping her arms with its weight.

`No," he answered simply, "there´s something I wanted to say."

"Ah, other than the fact that I´m holding out for the affections of a person that will never return them and that I look ridiculous in doing so. Who the hell are you to judge me? You don´t even know what you´re talking about," she began to yell and cause a scene.

"I just wanted to apologize," he said, his hands held out in a gesture of a truce. A truce was dangerous. She needed him to leave her. He was not safe around her--no one was.

"I don´t want your apology," she said, trying to move past him so that she could set the straining weight of the boxes and the pitcher down. Seeing the pitcher and remembering that he had said something about hating milk to the point of phobia, she got a wicked idea.

As if on cue, Draco had inadvertently asked for it, "Then what do you want," he asked, growing impatient.

"Do you know what I´ve always wanted, Draco," she asked with the most evil of grins on her face as she stared at the heavy pitcher of clean white liquid, eager to let go of it and ease her aching arm.

"What is that?" Draco asked, crossing his arms, making no attempt to move aside for her.

"To do this," she said simply as she upturned the pitcher and let its contents splash down the front of his no doubt very expensive shirt. She couldn´t help but laugh at the scene and after the initial shock, Draco was laughing too. But her boss, who´d happened to be standing just behind her, was not so amused.

Draco, seeing him looming behind Ginny first, sobered up and made a sign to warn Ginny that she´d better turn around.

After about five minutes worth of yelling in rapid French, in which Ginny only caught about every other word, he´d announced that he was firing her to an audience of captive coffee and drama connoisseurs.

She turned to a soaked Draco who was trying his hardest to cover a grin. "Well," she shrugged, "you´ve finally gone and got me fired. Are you happy with yourself now, Mr. Malfoy?" She threw the rest of her load on the counter, waved to a shocked Sophie and untied her apron. Draco turned to her as well and apologized for the mess before following Ginny out of the shop.

"You spilled milk all over me," he said, whining like a toddler. She took him by the hand, stifling lingering laughter with the other hand and led him to the alley behind the store where she produced her wand and cleaned him up with magic.

"You have to admit that it was pretty damned funny," Ginny said and then stopped as Draco moved closer to her and bent to kiss her, but she stopped him by moving swiftly to one side. "Now how am I going to pay for school? Way to go Draco. I´m destitute now," she was putting on a fake, desperate voice.

He held up his hands, "Hey, that was nothing to do with me, for once."

"I have to go," she said finally, not meeting his eyes.

He nodded and let her pass. Watching her retreat down the alleyway, he called after her, "Meet me later? In the park?"

Ginny turned and smiled, "Okay," and then disappeared around the corner.

Moments later Draco heard her scream.

"Oh hell," he managed before racing around the corner after her. As he turned the corner he´d seen her round just moments before, he scanned the passersby for her redhead among them. She was not there. The crowd that had gathered had the eeriest blank stares on their faces--a memory wipe. Shit!

He turned around and around, looking in all directions for her, but knew he wouldn´t find her if she was taken by the person that he feared had abducted her. He would have Apparated, no traces left.

He felt something underfoot and looked down to find he´d stepped on Ginny´s bag. She must have dropped it in struggling. Not far from her schoolbag with books spilling out of it lay a curious pewter cup.

Draco stooped to examine it in the midst of the crowd of creepy mannequin-type people. The French wizarding government would have been alerted by now to the activity in this section of muggle Pairs.

He quickly picked up Ginny´s bag and the cup and got the hell out of there.