Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise. Anything you don't recognise is most likely to be from my twisted imagination and therefore should not be taken.

Summary: Plagued by mental instability Lily Evans is an insecure 6th year falling pray to Lucius Malfoy, who makes her an offer almost too good to be true. Unbeknown to her, however, his intentions are of a far more sinister kind… No Lu/L. LJ, eventually.

Warnings: Before you start reading please be aware that this story is rated M for a reason. The Road I'm On contains SI, swearing, violence, sexual references galore. Specific warnings for chapters will be stated when they're needed.

A/N: This story was formulated in the spur-of-the-moment and, unlike so many other spur-of-the-moment ideas that have appeared, I was handily already sitting at the computer. Warnings: Light violence and swearing, fairly graphic SI. (Self-Injury)

The Road I'm On

Chapter 1: Ticket to Heaven

By Gulldara

She was on the run again. She was always running, never stopping, never pausing for thought or breath. Running was the one thing Lily Evans did best. Although it was possible to refer to her running as a physical activity, it was more mentally concerned. She had built up an intricate fortress with high walls and guard towers, alarm systems that rang shrilly in her head every time someone approached her with their to-good-to-be-true intentions. She was always defensive, always keen to run just that little bit further away from the grasp of her chaser. She didn't want to be run down to the point where she was cornered, her walls destroyed and her sheer emotional and mental fragility left on public display.

Lily had been born on underbelly of York to Rosalia and David Evans on the 12th of April 1960. Her mother was a shrieking half-demented activist who campaigned with Greenpeace against the current government and their detrimental policies on her beloved countryside. She spent her days organising meetings and planning the latest campaign targets. On the days she wasn't doing either of the aforementioned activities she was out of the house attending rallies and picket lines across the country, leaving her two daughters and husband at home.

Her father, on the other hand, was a writer. He spent most of his time in the shed at the bottom of the garden, surrounded by piles of half-finished manuscripts that he had discarded over the years because they had never been good enough. He was a perfectionist, yet he could never seem to find the right balance between perfection and a good, attention grabbing plot. Often his perfected works were all too boring to be even considered for publishing and the most exciting plots had too many flaws for his liking.

Completing Lily's family was her older sister, Petunia. She was an angular, sulky looking girl with her father's tendencies of perfectionism and a brain that was meant for gossip. Lily could remember the times when her and Petunia had gotten along fairly well, with the odd sibling spats every now and then. When her sister had reached her teenage years they had begun to part, finding each other either too young in maturity or too boring and unenthusiastic with age. Lily had started Hogwarts three years later and the deep divide between the two sisters didn't seem to be getting any narrower, each distancing themselves from the other with bad grace.

Now in her sixth year at Hogwarts, Lily was withdrawn and sunken. She was terrified of the night, terrified of the war that was raging around her, the war her parents- her family knew nothing of. She hated her persistent visions of returning to her family home in the summer and finding it destroyed, a pearly green image flickering above the house and the skull that bore the serpent from it's mouth winking down at her. She hated the vicious nightmares that riddled her sleep, causing her to toss and turn and wake up in cold sweats and often found herself staying up all night unable to sleep for fear of the nightly terrors that invaded and raped the ever growing instability of her mind.

Lily sat with her back resting against the rough bark of a pine tree, legs crossed in front of her and a book resting on her lap. It was an early October evening, and as much as she despised being outside, she had found it to be better then her previous dwelling of the school Library. She turned the page of Pernicious, Nonsensical Wizards and Witches Through the Centuries; A Comprehensive Guide by A.R. Keefe and resumed her reading.

A dark shadow fell across the small printed text, causing her to jump with shock, making a little outcry as she did so. Looking up she found Lucius Malfoy, a seventh year Slytherin, bearing down on her with his wand out. Her eyes widened in alarm and she scrambled to her feet, letting the book fall to the floor with a discordant thud.

He smirked, the corners of his lips twitching. Bending down he picked up the book, brushing off the dirt and inspecting the title before looking back at her. Lily stood there stiffly, her fists clenched and her expression unsure. The blonde haired Slytherin held out the book for her to take. She eyed him wearily and then snatched it back, pressing it to her chest protectively.

"Tut, tut," Lucius admonished, "What kind of behaviour is that for such a young Lady." Lily chose to ignore this remark and glared pointedly at him, all the while wondering what Lucius Malfoy could ever want with her.

"What do you want?" she said, her voice cold and clipped, not betraying the fear she felt rush through her as the older boy regarded her with his wand. He laughed softly and walked closer to her; she flinched slightly and shrunk back, intimidated by his stature.

"Lily, Lily, Lily," he said, patronisingly. "What I want," he paused, "What I want is to make you an offer." Lily's mind reeled. An offer? He wanted to make her an offer? It was almost laughable. A pureblood Slytherin wanted to make her, a lowly Mudblood and unworthy Gryffindor, an offer?

Suddenly she realised her mistake in even letting him tell her what he wanted. "I don't want offers from patronising, insufferable gits like you," she snarled bravely, beginning to step away and up towards the castle, which would offer her a little more protection from Lucius Malfoy and his wand. She felt a strong hand clasp around her wrist and jerk her round.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, you filthy little Mudblood," Lucius seethed, wand pointed in her face. Lily fought against his grip, panicking.

"Get off, get off!" she pleaded, terrified of what he was going to do to her. Nothing Lucius Malfoy had ever done was pleasant, or so she had heard from the rumourmongers. In fact, it was widely believed that Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater: a loyal servant to the Dark Lord.

"Shut up," he growled, shaking her. "Shut up! Now you listen to me, Evans."

Lily was rigid as he pinned her crossed arms to her sides and shook her slightly, his face flushed with anger and his normally cool composure diminished. "I came here to make you an offer and I'm going to fucking well make it, now listen and listen good. Understand?" Lily nodded mutely, her eyes wide with fear. "Good," he said, breathing hard and letting her go with a little shove. Lily stumbled, almost falling over. By the time she had regained her balance, straightened her crumpled robes and picked up her book, Lucius had regained his pale face and imperturbable demeanour. He was watching her in a mute silence before glancing about to make sure there were no other students around to disturb them.

"I know you have nightmares, Lily," he began softly, so softly Lily had to strain her ears to hear him. She opened her mouth in surprise, how could he possibly know?

"They're just nightmares," she said, her voice oddly high pitched and a definite quiver to it. "Just-just normal nightmares, them everybody has." In her nervousness she had fumbled over her words, making it sound like complete babble. She laughed falsely. "I mean, everybody has them."

Lucius smirked. "But they aren't normal, are the Lily? You know that as well as I do, there's no point in denying that your- ah, nightmares are highly unusual." Lily shook her head and became increasingly aware that she was trembling despite it being a warm night out. He knew- he knew! How could he have possibly known? Nobody knew; nobody took an interest in her, unless it was to make fun. She had gotten used to her nightmares and waking up in a cold sweat, she had gotten used to nobody comforting her as she cried silently, burying her face in her pillows to muffle unwanted sobs. She had gotten used to nobody caring.

"I've been watching you for months, Lily," Lucius said smoothly, his voice sending a chill down her spine, hairs on the back of her neck prickling with discomfort.

"Y-you h-have?" Lily stuttered in disbelief, clearly uncomfortable with the mere thought of Lucius Malfoy watching her for months on end. He nodded and tilted his head slightly, as if trying to get a better perspective of her.

Lily fiddled with a stray thread on the sleeve of her robe, desperate to be out of Lucius Malfoy's presence and into the, albeit unfriendly, atmosphere that was Gryffindor Tower. "I have, Lily. I have indeed. You are completely fascinating, though I doubt you acknowledge that as a compliment," he drawled. "Nevertheless, I am here to offer you a solution to your nightmares; to offer you your inner most desire."

"And- and what would that be?" Lily asked; trying and failing to sound disinterested. She noticed Lucius retained one of his knowing smirks, as if he knew that her interest had been piqued. Some part of her begged her to turn and run now that they were stood several feet apart, but try as she might she was unable to move her feet. It was as if she had a full body bind placed on her, only she knew very well that this wasn't the case. The fact was the other part of her wanted to listen to the Slytherin's offer, despite the high pitched alarm that was going off inside her head; warning her that he was about to corner her and strip her of dignity.

"I can offer you friendship, I can offer you protection, I can offer you a shoulder to cry on when you need it. I can be your best-friend, I can be your-" he paused letting his eyes flick over her, "lover. I can offer you a cure for your nightmares. I can make all the bad things in your life disappear, Lily. I can stop the hurting, the wanting. I can make people respect you with a click of my fingers, I can make your life so much better, I can make you into what you want to be." His voice was a whisper again, but the warmth that it contained puzzled her and the alarm dimmed somewhat.

It was as if Lucius Malfoy was trying to be benevolent, offering her all of this, all of her heart's desires. It was tempting, oh-so tempting for her to grasp and take selfishly. She wanted it, she had daydreamed of such things, but she had never thought it possible for someone to come and offer it to her on a platter. A shiny silver platter.

"Why are you doing this?" she stammered after a long stretch of silence.

As if expecting her to question him Lucius walked over to her and took her hand in a gentle manor, one she had never seen him display before even with his many girlfriends. "I'm doing this because I want to," he murmured, placing a small kiss on the back of her hand.

Lily jerked her hand back and looked at him strangely. "I need to go," she said decisively, finally finding her feet. "I need to go and- and..." She tapered off, unsure of what exactly she was going to go and do. The major essay for Professor McGonagall seemed very insignificant to her at this point. "Think," she murmured and turned to him. "I need to go and think. I-I don't know what you're trying to do, Lucius. I don't know what catches you have, or whether this is some cruel joke you and your Slytherin friends have planned, but I need to go and think."

"I can assure you, Lily, my intentions are purely with your best interests at heart. This is not a joke, nor are there any catches. I cross my heart and hope to die," he said lithely, making a cross over his heart with his finger. Lily stared at him momentarily, drinking up his words with some sort of feverish joy, although she restrained her outward sentiments with a hard pinch to skin on her wrist. She then nodded slightly and once again began to make her way towards the castle; this time turning to look back at the solitary figure of Lucius Malfoy being enveloped in the darkness as it crept in like a sheet being dragged over the sun.

Lily reached Gryffindor Tower just in time for curfew. She muttered the password to the Fat Lady, who made a snide remark about her flushed and dishevelled appearance. Lily nettled at what the portrait seemed to be implying. Sex and snogging in broom closets was the last things on her mind; she had other more pressing things to deal with, namely the incident that had just occurred.

She continued to hurry up towards her dormitory, ignoring some of the malevolent looks that were sent her way and the shriek of laughter coming form Yvonne Griffiths, one of the girls she had to share a dormitory with. Lily took the stairs up to the dormitory two at a time, her mind replaying parts of the conversation Lucius had with her. Bursting through her dormitory door she headed straight for her bed, yanking open the curtains and throwing herself on her bed, glad to be out of sight and relatively safe from derogatory comments.

An hour later and she was sitting cross-legged on her bed, both her robes and shoes discarded. Her elbows were resting on her knees and her fists were kneading her temples as she sat there in complete silence. With a sigh she opened her eyes and stretched her legs out, feeling the blood rush into her feet with a surge, the sensation of pins and needles was an uncontrollable side effect from her sitting cross-legged.

Lily was slowly coming to the conclusion that Lucius Malfoy was deranged, even more so then she was. It seemed highly improbable that he had done it 'because he wanted to'. She knew Slytherin's to be devious, cunning sods, who'd do anything to reach their goals. Anything. She just wondered what Lucius Malfoy's goal might be. Though, when she examined it more closely she could clearly remember some sort of sympathy in his voice, some sort of—

"He's adorable, Yvonne! You should bite the bullet and ask him out already, it's like a done deal." The door of the dormitory had been pushed open and the sound of the four other Gryffindor girls traipsing in, interrupted Lily mid thought. Sincerity, somesort of sincerity.

"I know," she heard Yvonne say in a smug voice and she could just imagine the other girl's flippant smile. "But, I don't want to appear desperate, do I? I mean come on, it's James Potter. I can't ask him out, I want him to do the running! Much better for my reputation, don't you think?"

The other girls agreed simultaneously and Lily bit back the urge to laugh. They were so trivial, so insignificant in the line of things. Their lives consisted of whom they could go out with next and then school, in that priority. It made her feel vaguely nauseous.

"Did you see the state Evans was in when she came in?" Yvonne sniggered. Lily balled her fists. Apparently Yvonne seemed to think that because her hangings were closed it meant that she was asleep, there again she was a spiteful bitch-Lily had first hand experience of that- and she could just be trying to get a rise out of her on purpose.

"She is in the room," one of the other girls remarked. Lily recognised the voice as Samantha's, one more for grades then boys, but still the latter inclined.

"So? She's probably asleep," Yvonne said. "But did you see her? She looked like she'd been shagging someone in a broom closet." Lily grimaced and ground her teeth. It was exactly what she needed, a rumour about her shagging someone in a broom closet. No matter what she seemed to do, no matter how withdrawn she became they couldn't stop with their petty rumours and gossip. She hated it. She didn't want attention like that brought on her.

A laugh went up around the room and Lily began to tremble with a suppressed rage, like a pan of water simmering with its lid on. She felt like ripping open her hangings and screaming at them to shut up, they didn't know anything about her; nothing at all. The chatter died away not more then twenty minutes later as one by one they dropped into slumber, their dreams probably filled with their wildest sexual fantasies much to Lily's disgust.

Lilydrew back the hangings and slipped on a pale blue dressing gown.She could hear the steady breathing of the girls as they slept, the occasional snore coming from the bed nearest the window. Silently she opened the door onto the spiral staircase and headed for the bathrooms. Down three floors and onto a small landing were there were two oak doors opposite each other, one for the boys and the other for the girls. She pushed open the girls' door and entered. The bathroom was communal, the toilets at one end, wooden shower stalls at the other. Sinks were placed along one wall, and wooden lockers parallel. The baths were through a separate door and down another flight of stairs.

Lily crossed the floor the cold tiles chilling her feet, which made a little slapping noise as she walked. She reached the lockers, drifting to the one that had her initials on it. Taking out a small key she unlocked the anti-alohomora lock, pulling open the wooden door. She reached inside and withdrew a small tin, the contents rattled. As quietly as she could she removed the lid, making the mistake of leaving it perched on the inside of her locker. It fell and made a deafening clang as it landed on the floor.

"Fuck," Lily muttered, picking it up and placing it back from where it had fallen. She returned her attention to the inside of the tin and smiled slightly, thinking it odd how just the sight of a sharp blade could make her grin so widely. Perhaps it was because she knew what was coming, how the numbness would spread through her as she made incisions to her body.

Her fingers enclosed around the thin metal strip, glimmering in the torchlight and she removed it from its resting place. Replacing the lid and the tin, she made sure her locker was secure before flitting across the bathroom and to the toilet stalls, shutting and bolting the door with nimble fingers.

She put down the toilet lid, creating a place for her to sit and then shrugged off the dressing gown. She was left in a thin cotton top and matching trousers, hurridly she slipped one arm out of its sleeve. Dark purple marks littered pale skin, like islands in the middle of the ocean. Newly formed scabs had appeared in streaks, crusting over and itching slightly. Concentrating Lily trailed the blade between the marks, trying to find fresh skin to cut. She found it, a small area previously untouched by any sharp implement and strangely bare to her eyes. A wave of excitement shot through her and she let out a small maniacal giggle.

She cut vertically, slashing instead of drawing it slowly across her skin, she found it made a deeper cut and the pain was far more enjoyable. She watched in vague amusement as blood blossomed in beads, slowly merging together and making a trail down towards her elbow. She cut again and again and again, pausing in-between each slash and watching the progress of the blood dribbling down her arm, roping its way around. Pretty she mused, as it reached her hand and as she moved her arm to look at her fresh cuts the droplet twisted curling round little finger. Pretty.

Few thoughts of Lucius Malfoy and his proposition were left inside Lily's head as she lost herself in a familiar routine, a routine that offered her the comfort that she couldn't get from anybody else. Perhaps Lucius Malfoy wasn't as disturbed as she was after all.

A/N: Review, pretty please? I'll give you cookies and a rubber duckie ;)