Yes, I shamelessly admit I'm one of those authors who start stories they never finish. But in my defense, my past stories suck like crazy. Feel free to read and review them but unless I get major incentive to keep doing them…someone just take this burden from me! *strikes epic 'suffering' pose*

But anyway…J.K. Rowling…all yours baby. (don't hurt me…don't hurt me no more…)

Uh…like specified, AU and might be a bit OOC, I'm trying to keep them as in character as possible in a dimension where the Wizarding world becomes something like Mafia Wars, Godfather, Silence of the Lambs, Scarface and Romeo and Juliet rolled all together. *mmm mmm mmm crunchy!*

Enjoy and review. Please. I'm not joking. Ooh and slash. Because I'm that incompetent.

Draco was bored. Listening to his father putter on and on about something or other that the rival family had done was killing him. His mother listened in rapt attention, devoted woman that she was and Pansy Parkinson's and Theodore Nott's parents were also nodding and agreeing like the sycophantic puppets they were. Sickening, all of it.

He fingered the knife he was carrying, under the table. What he wouldn't give to stab them…all of them and be done with it all but no, alas, he worked for them.

"Ah, Draco, would you care to repeat to us the mission I have briefed you on? You seemed…distracted?" Luscious…ahem…Lucius Malfoy's high and cold voice broke through Draco's stupor.

"I beg your pardon but my mind was elsewhere." He murmured deferentially, feeling a blush rise. Oh to be humiliated in front of those two despicable, gold-digging families. Of course though, they were too 'well-breed' to snicker out loud.

"Your mission was to capture Dumbledore's son, Harry and bring him here, as a hostage. After all, the best way to strike an enemy is through his heart." Hm…where had Draco heard that before? Oh yeah, everyday at dinner. The two families…again with the nodding bullshit.
Personally, he didn't give a shit about this gang warfare. The bloody feud between the Gryffindor and Slytherin families was getting a tad ridiculous. Bodies were piling up in the streets of England with no apparent end in sight. For some reason, a new millennium was sparking a fever pitch of animosity. And all this, laughably, originated from one man, Salazar Slytherin. He had come to England hoping for a clean slate of sorts and to restart his…ahem…business in new waters. His family had been establishing it for at least 300 years now and Draco wanted to call it quits. Unfortunately, the last time someone had tried to call it quits had killed themselves over their lover and Draco wasn't quite ready to go Romeo. For crying out loud, he didn't have a Juliet, not that he wanted a girl. Or a boy for that matter. He had stopped caring a long time ago. Working for a man as cold and ruthless as his father had done the trick for him.

"You will go at daybreak tomorrow, 0300 military time. I would appreciate if you did not severely damage the boy…as I will be doing that." Oh, cue the oohs and aahs, Lucius Malfoy's going to throw the smack down. What else was going to happen? The sun will rise from the south? Draco snickered softly at the thought.

"Oh, and do not cause a scene Draco. You know what to do." Lucius fixed his son with a stern glare.

"Yeah sure, man…stealth and no ruckus and all that shit." Draco drawled easily.

"Insolence boy!" Lucius bolted up and pointed a trembling with rage finger at Draco. Narcissa gasped and tried to glare at Draco. The Parkinson's and Nott's were watching this example of familial discordance with a more than healthy interest. Leeches, getting off to cracks in this family, Draco thought bitterly and standing up, left the dining hall, leaving his father roaring in anger, his mother probably cowering and the other two families gloating.

He had enough of this show.

Harry could feel sweat dripping off his forehead and into his eyes but he couldn't wipe them away. Not now. Sirius was advancing, concentration wrinkling his brow and his arm tense as he circled around Harry. With a sudden cry, he leapt forward and swung at Harry's vulnerable midsection. Harry neatly dodged and rolled, attempting to bring a foot to trip Sirius and bring him to the ground. Sirius nimbly leapt over the foot and pouncing quickly, caught Harry in a full body lock before he could roll away. For a man as was unassumingly slim as Sirius, he sure was strong. Harry grunted and tried to get leverage with his knees. Sirius barked out a laugh and placed the wooden rod against his neck, pinning him in place. Harry tried for one last buck, only to feel the wood digging into his throat, cutting his breath short. He sighed and tapped the ground, rolling his eyes at the triumph in Sirius' eyes.

"Hey, don't look down kid! You're getting much better. Last week it was fifteen minutes and now you're at twenty five minutes holding up! Pretty soon, you'll be beating my old ass at this game." Sirius stood up, wiping sweat from his brow. Harry snorted. He was a long long way from beating Dumbledore's right hand man and master of weapons and defense.

"Did Remus say what we're doing in lessons today?" Harry asked. He looked forward to Remus' classes, honestly! They were fun and more often than not, hands on, but when that man wanted to lecture he talked like Professor Binns. That man was capable of leaving any one in stupor. If Dumbledore would only let him be used as a weapon, just standing outside the manor…wow. Attackers would drop like flies.

"No…but he was up all night planning something…" Sirius wriggled his eyebrows at Harry. Harry grinned. Well, now he was excited and dead curious.

"He didn't tell you anything?"

"No…you know how he is with this secret junk. Nothing's going to pry it out of him."

"Not even for you?" Harry switched on the puppy eyes.

"God, definitely not for me! And don't make those eyes, kid, save em' for Remus. He's the soft one." Sirius laughed again. "Well, come on, we're starting to stink and I'm sure Remus will throw me out of house and home if I come back like this for the nth time."

Harry nodded and walked off to the showers carefully. God, was he sore.

Sirius watched him leave, silently. He noted the way Harry handled himself, the way his body was shaping up and remembered the completely focused expression the boy had when fighting. He knew the boy was training harder than ever, especially with Slytherin turning up the pressure so much…everybody needed to be on their toes.

Sirius decided that that boy would be dangerous. Very dangerous in the near future if he would stop doubting himself so often. But for now, business called. Dumbledore wanted to talk strategy…like Sirius knew what strategy was.