Title: There's a Place For Me
Rating: M for Miraculous!
Summary: When a Slytherin meets a Hufflepuff, things aren't going to come out exactly as planned. Cunning and sinister, Draco Malfoy would do anything for power, which includes serving under the Dark Lord. Jovial and shy, Russell Sonier never asked for this…
Warnings: This story is of the slash kind. DMOC, that is!
Genre: Romance, Action/Adventure, Humor
Disclaimer: Luke, I do NOT own these trademarked names, place, things, and spells. Oh yeah, and uh, supposedly I'm your father.
Author's Notes: This chapter is a little bit deeper than the last two. I felt the need to express Russell more in all his mopeyness.
"They say that children now
They come in all ages
And maybe sometimes old men die
With little boy faces
The only difference
That I see
Is you are exactly the same
As you used to be." --The Difference by the Wallflowers
Chapter Three: "You act like your pain really hurts."
Russell sat in a deserted corner of the library, his eyes seeming to be engrossed in ancient text, wrapped with a dark blue cover. In reality, he couldn't read it. His vision was blurring and swimming around. Sooner or later, it would come back into focus. His nose still pulsed a bit and it stung to move his mouth around too much, but he was fine.
He had been walking back from his last class, History of Magic, when he encountered a rowdy looking Slytherin, about a year younger than he was. A violent hex had forced him back into the wall. He even heard (and most importantly, felt) a crack as his jaw connected with the cold, gray stone. Then the kid had laughed and kicked him before running off.
Usually he would've just sat there until a professor or somebody came by and helped him, but he didn't feel like being interrogated. He simply got up, sucked it in, and walked to the library with his head down. Madame Pince(1) didn't question him when he walked in. She rarely ever did since he was in here during almost all of his free time.
There was just something about the books that always made him feel…good about everything. The way the pages felt on his fingertips, the old, warm smell when he flipped through the pictures, the enchanting words placed so neatly and carefully next to each other to create a whole…it was a beautiful serendipity and it took him places. Books took him to another world when his own got to be just too much. They were his freedom. And he loved that.
His fascination with reading started young. His mother had taught him to read at a very early age, yet she would always sit down with him and read aloud until the very wee hours of the night. Of course, he was usually asleep by nine or ten o'clock, but she read on because she loved it and believed that it gave him soothing dreams. Occasionally, she would even let him read to her. He had so much fun when he was with his mother that days upon days would just seem to swiftly pass by. After she died when he was eight, he swore to himself that he wouldn't forget her. So he continued reading, almost losing himself in the books and his own imagination…
Of course that's when his father stepped in. His father somehow got this idea that it was all Russell's fault and that if Russell hadn't been around and taken up so much of his mother's energy and time, that she would still be there. Russell got this instilled in his head with physical and verbal abuse whenever he was at home. It happened so regularly, he could do nothing except to believe it himself. That's when he had started painting and sketching. Making things like that gave him the feeling of giving something back…when he owed so much. Now at school, books had become an escape from the hassles of the other students and all the pressure.
Maybe this signified him as a book nerd, but he didn't really care, and he didn't expect that anyone else really did either……
"Mr. Sonier?" came Madame Pince's voice. The stern looking woman held a lantern up to get a better view of him and it was only then that Russell noticed how dark it had become in the library. Had he fallen asleep? He must've because he had to pick his head up from off of the book. "I didn't realize you were still back here, I'm closing up the library now, it's really late. Why don't you go and head back to yourdormitory now?"
Blearily rubbing his eyes, Russell nodded before carefully closing the book and slipping it back onto the shelf.
"Goodnight ma'am," he said before stepping out of his one and only haven.
As he walked out, Madame Pince waved her wand, straightening up all the untidy books that were laid here and there. "Always so polite," she murmured before exiting the library herself.
Draco slumped along outside, his hands in the pockets of his black pants. The night air was cool and refreshing against his bare arms and face, inviting him further along with a slow breeze, rustling the lake shore. He sat down, rolling up the hems of his pants so he could stick his feet into the Autumn water. It was the point in the season where things were getting a little chilly, but weren't cold enough for distaste.
Insomnia wasn't such a lovely thing, but it gave him time to mull over a few things. His father had sent him an owl a while back, signaling that it was time for him to move into the plan of luring Potter into Voldemort's hands, but Draco had yet to figure out a way to do it. There were plenty of options, but each one was riskier than the last.
Draco wouldn't hesitate to risk himself for the Dark Lord, especially if it meant the life of that damn Potter, but he couldn't risk the hiding spots or secrets of Lord Voldemort either, so he had to be sneaky. It would have been so much simpler if he had Potions with the Gryffindors instead of those bloody Hufflepuffs, then he would be able to use the Veritaserum on Weasley or that mud blood(2) and get something out of them to use against Potter. But unfortunately, he got a lanky, ostrich-eyed, cretin of a Hogwarts student. Life wasn't fair, but he'd make it work. He was smart enough to figure something out.
Adrian had been helping him brew the other Veritaserum in a deserted bathroom and it was almost finished. He would just need to encounter one of the two Potter tagalongs alone, without being suspicious, and then slip them the truth-telling potion somehow…
Oh, this sounded almost too hopeless! But no, Draco would find a way, somehow. He might go to Nott for advice, Theodore was the only Slytherin Draco considered to be an equal to himself. The boy was certainly clever and cunning. But asking for advice was weak.
And Draco Malfoy wasn't weak.
Russell rolled over under the covers, trying to fall asleep. In only a few hours, his magical alarm would go off and wake him up to begin his Saturday. Ernie, Justin, and Ben had gotten him to put a silencing charm around his four-poster, so that they wouldn't have to wake up early. But waking up early didn't bother Russell. It gave him a fresh start.
If he could ever get to sleep, that is. He tossed and turned and tried different sleeping arrangements. He even tried counting dragons, but that didn't help because his imagination would always make one wearing a tutu or something.
And then he got on Philip Speer(3), the only friend that he had ever had. They were best friends when Russell was eight, right after his mother died. They spent a lot of time together, just having fun. But it had all ended right after Russell's tenth birthday, leading into Summer, when he would get his Hogwarts letter…but he hadn't known all that then.
"Russ, why are you always so gloomy? Why don't you turn that frown upside-down?" Philip giggled in a very girlish manner, taking his thumbs and pushing up Russell's cheeks.
"I just don't feel good, Phil. You wouldn't understand," Russell dimly waved away Philip's hand. His father had just been yelling at him when he went outside and met up with Philip. The other boy sure wasn't helping Russell's mood.
"You know, I bet you I would. It's about your mum, isn't it? Or your dad," Philip's voice had calmed and he was now crouching down beside the sprawled-out, sky-gazing Russell. "I know how he yells at you, Russ. I heard him once. It's okay, it really is." Russell's eyes started to sting as he angrily continued glaring at the sky.
"How can you even say you understand? You have two parents. And they both love and adore you with every fiber of their being. You can't say you understand."
"But I do. You see, I know they can seem really nice and all…but they're never around. They're always at work or out at dinner or conferences and the theater…I never get a chance to tell them how my day went or even…even that I love them," Philip's face grew downcast as he stretched his legs into a sitting position. Russell sat up, looking at Philip in bewilderment and anger.
"Oh come of it, Philip! At least you know what they'd say if you did tell them. At least you found someone who loves you back."
"No…Russ…sometimes, I'm not sure what they'd say. It's scary…and it makes me feel bad…but--"
"You act like your pain really hurts when I can't even feel mine," Russell said, tears splashing down his face. He roughly brushed them away as Philip stood up.
"I don't know why I even try to help you, Russ. You're so caught up in your own stupid life that you don't even think of other people. Maybe you're not the only one with problems in the world, Russell," the ten year old said, fists clenched at his sides.
"You don't know anything about me, you're just a stupid little…" Russell stood up, trying to find the words to say, but he just sputtered and shook his head furiously.
"Your heart is dead, it's dead! You don't let anybody know you, Russ, you don't want to. Either you or somebody else has killed you and I don't think you really care either way!" Philip shouted, his own eyes now threatened to leak.
"What are you talking about, Philip? My heart isn't dead, nobody killed me! I guess you really are stupid!"
"No, Russ," Philip shook his head and started walking away. "You'll get it someday, and you'll really wish you'd thanked me."
Russell turned over in the covers once more, stray tears dripping from his eyes. And finally, he got to sleep.
Author's Notes: :( Poor Russell! At first I wasn't going to make it like this, I didn't even have Philip in my head. But then, I don't know, the idea just struck me and I stuck with it. I hope you understand Russell's actions a little more now, since they're a bit more justified than they were before.
Kayhera: Yes! I love reviews from you! Hah! Now you know more about my OC…but not everything just yet. Nope, there's more to Russ than meets the eye (two big ostrich eyes, to be exact). I think that if I'm going to make Draco as canon as possible, Russell wouldn't really matter to him and subtly/annoyance was all that would exist between them, at first. And it's okay that you don't usually read slash! (Heck, I don't usually read Inuyasha fics :P). This fic isn't just going to be the lovey-dovey mushyness that my other fic was. Nah…I thought maybe a little adventure would spice things up a bit. I hope you like it, I'm really counting on your approval since you are one of my other favorite reviewers! Oh and I know how you feel about Wolf's Rain! I was reading the Manga books of Fruits Basket and I've gotten up to number 6, but my mom says that I'm reading too much so she won't buy me another one yet! Agh! It's making me crazy! And long reviews make me all warm and fuzzy inside--only not really--so keep up the long reviews!
Just in case you missed it…(1)Madame Pince is the resident librarian at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
(2)Mudblood is a nickname some wizards use to describe muggle-borns. Draco uses this for Hermione Granger because she is a muggle-born witch. He usually just calls Ron, "Weasley".
(3)I know a guy from Germany with the last name of Speer. Thought it was cool so I casually dropped it in.