The Road To Nowhere

Chapter Seventeen

The Road To Nowhere

"Write your soul down word for word

See who's your friend

And who is kind

It's almost like a disease

I know soon you will be

Over the lies, you'll be strong

You'll be rich in love and you will carry on

But no--Oh no

No you won't be mine..."

Matchbox Twenty: 'You Won't Be Mine'

"I don't understand what is so important in there," Severusbegan.

Arabella turned, stopping in front of the loculus that they had previously investigated.

"It could be nothing to do with Slytherin. Pettigrew has always been one to do odd things without the slightest bit of reason," he continued, brushing a spider's web from his robes disdainfully.

Arabella shook her head impatiently, "No, I'm sure of it. It's to do with the prophecy of the Founders. I'm positive on that point. They're planning something and it's not going to be good. Especially if they succeed. I mean to find out what they're planning," she stopped and leveled a determined stare at her companion, "and I mean to stop them."

Severus threw up his hands in defeat. She would not be deterred from this. The growing suspicion that something unexpected and unpleasant was nearing made him cautious. But Arabellawould not heed him.

She crawled up into the burial space and inched toward the back.

Severus stood to one side of the opening, staring warily at the small painted figure with the emerald eyes whose smile glinted menacingly as he pointed out the entrance of the Slytherinfamily tombs.

"Ah," Arabella's muffled voice filtered out into the small opening. She sounded excited. She'd found something, no doubt, and he would be expected to follow. He cringed at the idea. "It's here! I've found the opening!"

He sighed and resigned his fate to the archeologically crazed Arabellaand headed in after her, dried, human bones crunching underneath him, lending some lovely sound effects to the already nightmarish scene.

***

Ginny's head was throbbing painfully. Was it drug induced, she wondered? Had she tried to kill herself again? She couldn't remember.

She pushed herself up to her elbows and scanned the room.

She had no memory of this place, of the fire that was burning in the grate on the opposite side of the room, of the enormous bed that she now found herself in, or of the richly colorful tapestries that covered each of the stone walls. Where was she?

She sat up fully, the drafty cold of the expansive room chilled her exposed shoulders and she shivered. It registered a moment later that she wasn't wearing her familiar T-shirt and pajama bottoms that she would normally wear to bed. Instead, she noticed with vague curiosity, that she was dressed in a white silk nightgown, sleeveless and low-cut. This wasn't hers. She would never wear anything this stunning, or quite so revealing, especially if all she planned to do in it was sleep. It seemed ridiculous to her that someone was wasting such a beautiful garment on her, inelegant, plain Ginny.

This must be some twisted dream.

She realized that it wasn't when she saw him.

She felt sick as she caught his gaze from the dark corner across the room where he'd been lurking the entire time, watching her. His smile unsettled her even more. It was a pleased, amused, satisfied smile. This was not a dream, Ginny realized with mounting terror, this was her nightmare, a waking nightmare.

She hadn't faced this beautiful and yet terrifying man all alone in over five years. She felt as if she'd been thrust back in time to the very moment that she'd realized he'd tricked her, used her secrets, her soul against her. She was in the Chamber of Secrets, helpless, frightened. He was there with the same dominating presence and eerily calm smile that penetrated her and left her exposed. She was facing Tom again and this time there was no way Harry would find her. No one would find her.

He came closer, leaving the shadows behind, approaching her slowly and gracefully. His hazel eyes, full of malice and ill will, never left her.

She moved back against the headboard and cowered there when she realized she had nowhere to go. She would have screamed if she could find her voice, or if she thought anyone would hear her.

He stood at the foot of the bed, eyeing her interestedly, arms folded in front of him. He loved to watch her squirm, Ginny realized with growing disgust and frustration. She endeavored to control her trembling shoulders and hide her fear as much as possible. She didn't want him the have the satisfaction.

"The nightgown looks stunning on you, Virginia," he said after a moment's reflection as he surveyed her, his voice as smooth as keys on a piano under a master's touch.

She gave an involuntary shudder that made him grin and his eyes glint slightly. In one swift movement, she'd pulled the covers up to her chin. "Where are my clothes," she growled, her voice trembling slightly, only adding to the pleasure Tom gleaned from his intimidation of her.

"I'm hurt, Virginia. You don't like my gift?" he said, laughing. He unfolded his arms and placed his hands delicately on the railing at the foot of the bed, leaning gracefully closer. "A reward for being such a good little girl. You were, I have to admit, quite impossible at the beginning, but you've broken in nicely. You've been most helpful in our search for the other heirs." He paused and stared as realization and horror dawned on Ginny.

She'd finally done it. She'd betrayed Harry and Lucy.

She fought the urge to be sick in front of him. Who knew with Tom? He might enjoy that just as well. She couldn't help the queasy, faint look that caused him to chuckle softly.

"It's your fate, darling. Get used to it. Those friends of yours are of little consequence to what I could offer you. You would be invincible by my side," he raised his eyebrows at the suggestion.

Ginny felt her stomach flip uncomfortably and her breath catch in her chest. "Why me?" Somehow, she already knew the answer.

"I knew a lady a lot like you once, beautiful, just as you are. Had a gift like yours too. You are very rare, did you know that? Seers in this day and age, you are one of only a few," he related these points and moved around to the side of the bed to stand over her.

"Who was she?" Ginny barely managed, cowering under her bed covers.

"Adelaide Connelly, she was a year under me at school. I believe you recognize the name?" he asked.

Ginny nodded, astonished and sickened still. "My grandmother," she answered,her voice barely above a whisper.

Tom smiled and reached a hand up to touch her paling cheek. He bent and kissed her forehead before retreating.

Ginny stared after him in disbelief, unable to catch her breath or stop her trembling. She was more frightened then she'd ever been in her life. And she had no way out. She felt cold and numb and so ripped the covers from her bed, wrapping them around her and came to sit on the hard stone floor in front of the fire. Her head was spinning with every bit of information that she'd just been told.

She had a choice. She would either have to give in to Tom or die.

She stared into the flames and sobbed softly. She didn't want to die.

But it was the only choice, really.

***

Harry heard Hermione gasp behind him as she'd gained entrance into the room, only to find what Harry had discovered seconds before. Ron came in behind the two of them and asked what was going on. Neither he nor Hermione could answer.

They both stood there, mesmerized by the charm that lay on the pillow. The one they'd been searching for the entire time.

Harry was delirious with the idea that Lucy could be in trouble. It was all his fault. He felt detached from the whole scene, as if he was looking down on the entire affair form somewhere wholly separate. This couldn't be happening.

If Lucy were hurt at all, he would be entirely to blame. He should have never left her alone.

Harry reached a hand down and reluctantly touched the sapphire encrusted charm. He felt an unsettling tug from behind his navel and dropped the charm immediately.

Hermione had seen his reaction and immediately knew what it was all about.

"Grab your traveling cloaks, boys," She said, taking up the charm by its severed chain, "we're going after her."

"Harry? Are you alright?" Ron asked, taking a tentative step toward him.

He shook his head. He didn't suppose he was okay at all. He felt sick at the realization that he'd been careless with regard to Lucy. That,and he didn't much enjoy Portkeys after the Tri-Wizard Tournament and all. He banished his own fear. It was selfish to think of that now. He would do anything to get Lucy back, including walking blindly into danger by means of a Portkey. He would do it for her, if nothing else.

***

He stepped out of the confined tunnel into a vast open space. Ornately detailed frescos lined the walls where the heirs of Slyhterinhad been laid to rest.

Arabella walked to the center of the chamber where he saw her stare up at the lofty ceiling with awe. She was in her element. She became excited that she'd finally found what she was looking for. She ran from wall to wall, reading the paintings there, following them as one would follow a story.

Severus stayed to the interior of the room, keeping clear of the disgusting walls, some of which dripped with mold.

"That's it!" she said, clapping her hands together.

He made his way over to where she was scanning a fresco whose subject was no doubt Slytherin's own execution, after murdering the other three Founders, as the story traditionally went. The folklore surrounding Slytherin was always sketchy at best. He remembered hearing about some of the details concerning the leading theory on the events, when he'd been inside that close-knit group, loyal to his last remaining heir.

As legend had it, just before he died, Slytherin cursed the Founders and their blood, just after he'd made some sort of assurance to his last remaining heir that immortality could be achieved through them. This is where the much-debated Allianceof the Chosen Three came into being. Of course, to historians, this was labeled as the most fantastic of fictitious fables. It had been dismissed again and again.

Arabella had found the proof that they had all been searching out for centuries.

It all existed, the Alliance, the prophecy of the Last Heir of Slytherin, all of it.

And the wizarding world was in more trouble than they could have guessed.

"He's taken the cup," Arabella gasped, wiping some slime from a panel near the entrance. "Peter has taken Slytherin'sPensieve. It says here that it was to be buried with his daughter Eowyn, but it's gone. It must house the directions Voldemort needs to achieve his bloody immortality. Oh hell! This is a lion in the cattle pen."

Severus hardly heard her. He walked slowly to the entrance, fighting the urge to curse.

The entrance was closed up. They had been buried in Slytherin'stomb and no one else knew they were here.

***

"You weren't truly thinking about perusing a relationship with that girl, were you?" Lucius asked his son as he ushered him into one of the lofty rooms of the castle keep.

Taking a seat in a large, oxblood leather chair, Draco gave the question a moment's thought, "What do you mean by perusing a relationship?" He asked vaguely. He heard the clank of a decanter behind him. Lucius was pouring a drink.

"I mean that you shouldn't waste your time with such a disgustingly low born wretch like that Weasley. It is quite well and good if she's just a pastime. I don't see how that could interfere," he came around to the other side of the chair where Draco was seated.

Draco eyed the man who seated himself across from him and sipped his port, eyeing his son with a warning look. He would be taken seriously. Draco could not brush him off. Some world-class acting was called for. He would make his father believe that he was following his example to a tee.

In fact, he thought, where was that dark and dangerous mistress of his father's anyway? A temptress if he'd ever seen one, Elena Vassikin, a Russian Death Eater who was brutally cunning and even more seductive. He was hardly without her since his wife had tragically died a year and a half ago.

He couldn't really be his father. Not even if he tried. He had too much of his mother in him. And he would never treat Ginny the way his father was suggesting. But to appease the man, he would make it seem that he was only interested in her out of boredom.

"As I said before, she means nothing to me. More of an attempt to provoke her brother than anything else," he shrugged, his face a passive mask of unconcern, but underneath it all he was raging at his father and his cruel tendencies. Ginny was no plaything, merely existing to amuse him until he was finished with her and discarded her for a more interesting toy. He adored her. That came as a clear realization as he voiced exactly the opposite feelings to his father.

It was painful to think of what she was going through as he sat here and talked casually with his father about her. He hoped that she was safe, wherever she was. He wanted nothing more than to see her, hold her. He missed her so much that it was an actual, physical pain.

"Well," Luciussighed, uncrossing his legs and reaching in his pocket to retrieve something. "You might as well have some fun with her while you can." He produced a large brass key and tossed it at Draco, who snatched it from the air in one deft movement. "She dies at dawn if she hasn't accepted the invitation of the Dark Lord."

At that moment, Tom entered and smiled at his new visitor. "Draco Malfoy. It has been a while since I've seen you. You are looking more like your father all the time." If that was a compliment, Draco didn't take it as such. Turning to Lucius, he continued, "I thank you for bringing him. I would like very much if he were present for the immortality ceremony."

Draco got the impression that there was more to his being invited here than either of them was admitting, but he had no time to pry now.

"I wonder if I might have a word with your father in private, Draco," Tom asked. Draco nodded and then returned his father's suggestive smile before leaving the room.

If he had any pretensions that that was just a father-son bonding moment in there, LuciusMalfoy would be sadly mistaken. Dracowould have liked nothing better than to have had enough time to strangle the life out of his dear old man. He was one of the most deranged, sick bastards he'd even been in contact with. And being a Malfoy...that was saying a lot.

He clutched the key to Ginny's room in one very white knuckled grip and set himself to the task of finding the lock it belonged to.

***

Bundled in cloaks that Hermione had found for them in the entryway closet, Harry stood in the midst of a fog bank with his two friends. The low-lying clouds swirled and churned and generally hindered them from gaining a view of their surroundings.

Pinned securely near the clasp of his cloak, Harry wore the fibula that Gryffindor had entrusted to his faithful squire, Faramir all of those long years ago. Underneath the heavy fabric folds that protected him from the light and chilly mist that never seemed to completely fall, but churn around them, Harry had concealed the sword of Gryffindor, tucked securely in his belt. He had hoped that there would be no need of them, but he knew that it would not be that simple to have all of his friends, everyone he loved, out of danger without a fight. He wasn't sure if he was even equal to the task set in front of him, but he had to try. He could do nothing less than that.

He didn't waste anytime waiting for the fog to roll out of their path. He plunged ahead, unseeing. He needed to get to Lucy. It was the one thought in his mind.

Hermione followed a little more wary, Ron's hand in hers.

As they passed the fog bank they found the eeriest gray road that wound down to nothing. It was a literal road to nowhere in particular. Harry noted it with mild agitation and proceeded.

The secrets of this avenue revealed themselves as he carried on. First the lake appeared--like a mirage disappears when one approaches, the lake materialized in the same way. A little farther down the way, as if by magic (and in all possibilities, it was magic), a bridge appeared to link the road to a dominating castle. A crannog--a Medieval island fortress in the middle of a lake.

Unfazed, Harry reached the bridge and began to step onto it.

Ron pulled him back, causing him to stumble slightly.

"I'll check it out first," he said. Hermione nodded.

Ron brandished his wand and placed a tentative foot forward. It seemed to hold.

The three of them proceeded cautiously across and to the stone keep straight ahead.

***

"Er, Arabella?" Severus said hesitating, unsure he believed what he was seeing himself.

"What?" she snapped, furious that he was interrupting her concentration when she'd made the biggest historical find the wizarding community had witnessed in centuries. Sifting through the dusty bones that had belonged to Slytherin's precious daughter and protégé, Eowyn, Arabelladid not look up.

"This is the way we came, right?" he asked in the same disbelieving tone.

"Yes, of course," she answered with impatience, briefly glancing at the tunnel that was blocked up now with stone. "Oh, hell!" she exclaimed, doing a comic double take--only their situation was less than comical.

She rushed over and frantically began pushing on the stone, beating on it with her fists, using magic. Nothing worked. They were good and trapped.

She turned and looked at Severus, astonished at her own carelessness. She hadn't checked for any curses on the entryway. She was so eager to make the discovery of Slytherin's tomb, that her judgment had been hindered. They would both suffer because of it.

***

Ginny knew crying wouldn't help her situation any. She couldn't help the frightened sobs that racked her now. She was desperate for a friendly face, an assurance that she would see the people she loved again. She doubted she ever would.

She missed Dracoterribly. She knew he would get to her if at all possible. Ginny stared at the fire as it roared in the grate and prayed that he had figured out a way to find her.

She jumped when the sound of a key in the lock of her door startled her. She hugged her knees tight in front of her and pulled the blankets up around her shoulders.

This would be it. They've come to take her away. It was her moment to die. Her thoughts went automatically to her family and, of course, to Draco.

The door opened and, to her great relief, surprise and every other emotion that liberated her from her frightened position, cowering in the corner, Draco appeared.

A sob rose up in her chest and she cried out, overjoyed to see him.

He hadn't seen her in that moment. He looked in her direction, on the ground at the opposite wall, only when she'd cried out to him, pushing herself up off of the floor, discarding the blankets she'd been wrapped in and rushed over to him. Tears streamed down her face as he hurriedly shut the door and took her up in his arms. Her chest was constricted painfully as he held her so tight she couldn't breathe.

He was so relieved to see that she wasn't hurt. She looked very shaken and scared out of her mind. But he was also overcome with the urge to be near her, he wanted to hold her like this forever. He buried his face in her masses of red hair and closed his eyes, breathing in her scent. He was home in her arms. She was everything to him,he realized caressing her cheek with his.

"I thought it was him again," Ginny sobbed, relieved to see him here, to be held by him.

"Who?" He asked, reluctantly pulling his head off of her shoulder to look at her. He reached a hand up to wipe the tears from her cheeks, never letting go of her the entire time.

"Tom, Voldemort, I don't know," she began hysterically. "He, he... I don't know how long he'd been there, but I don't remember what happened up until I woke up, about twenty minutes ago."

"Ginny," Dracostopped her, "You're not making any sense. Calm down and tell me everything you remember from the beginning," he lifted her chin gently so that her eyes met his, "No one is going to hurt you while I'm here, I mean that. You don't have to be afraid." He led her to the bed where he wrapped his cloak around her trembling shoulders, noting her strange and very revealing clothing briefly.

"Sit down and start from the beginning," he insisted, never breaking his connection with her, he stood beside her and held her hand in both of his as she related everything that she could remember from the time of her abduction until he'd shown up.

She began crying and shaking uncontrollably again when she'd gotten to the part where she'd betrayed the other heirs. He didn't seem to get how important it was that they not be brought to this place. They would be killed just as she would. He reassured her that Harry was safe, but he said nothing of the Ravenclawheir. He hadn't known that it was his sister. She didn't know how to tell him.

He would surely hate her if his sister were harmed in any way at all.

Maybe they hadn't gotten to her or Harry yet.

Draco had just seen them safe at his home. Maybe they were still there warm and unharmed.