Alrighty~ Back in business now. Though the SiriusRemus will be put on hold for the moment for sad lack of inspiration. This will be a simple two chapter oneshot. Written out of the blue to take some of the edge and stress off of the current story I'm working on. Once I get a few more chapters in on it and decide where I'll be taking that one it'll appear here as well. Pardon the random pairing, it just interesting me over the weekend. This is what happens when you go 72 hours without internet but still have a laptop, the entire Harry Potter series of books and movies.

Enjoy~

XxDess


Lucius Malfoy had always told his son to find allies in high places. That their prestigious blood was all it would take for him to do so, that simply being a Malfoy was enough to have practically anyone groveling at his feet with respect.

This had always held true, even in his first year Draco was unbelievably popular. Only once had he been lead wrong, when the world's Golden Boy turned his hand away. Draco felt enraged at the thought, but had decided the filthy blood of traitors had simply blinded the fool and he was too neurotic to be in a Malfoy's grace. Yes, he was what everyone wanted and feared, he was Draco Malfoy and no one would dare turn his hand away again.

These were the thoughts that lead young Draco's decision to befriend the Durmstrang's most popular and prized treasure; Viktor Krum. He had decided this from the very moment those bulky men had strutted into The Great Hall, showing off for all their viewers. At first Draco sneered at Krum, he was strong and built, though the vacant expression in his dark eyes lead the blond to believe he was nothing more than a buffoon. A trained ape whom got what he wanted on brute force alone, how he had become so famous was a mystery to Draco. Who merely shook his head in disdain and ignored the proceedings of the night that had so many riled up. He noted with annoyance that even some of his own house who rarely ever showed interest in anything other than one being in pain or humiliated were looking anxiously up and drinking in every word the great fool Albus Dumbledore spoke.

But throughout his skepticism and irritation of the Durmstrang boys he had already formulated a plan to greet this fool Krum. To befriend him for the mere fact he was well known and respected not unlike himself. Yes, father would be proud if he could be making connections with such people even in his fourth year of school. Merely fourteen and already forming allegiances with others in high respects. A flicker of relief spread through him as he eyed the small group from Durmstrang -tall, broad shouldered with militant uniforms down to the shaved heads, weighed down with brawn and vacantly staring or sniggering and whispering things to one another- that he hadn't been admitted into that school. Thankful for once that his mother had sent him to this horrible excuse for a school, he couldn't imagine himself being one of those people. They were well behaved, structured like true mindless followers, useless oafs without someone to guide them. No, that wouldn't do for him; a Malfoy would never stoop so low as to become one of those. Throughout dinner he tried to catch Krum's eye without speaking to him, talking highly of his father and his power, the places his father had taken him; not to mention his connections with everyone. He made sure to glance at Krum as he spoke with another Durmstrang boy with a sneer,

"I was meant to attend Durmstrang, you know. If it hadn't been for the complications of my father's work in the Ministry I would be, father couldn't relocate and I was forced into this bloody pitiful excuse for a school," But he eventually gave up, seeing that Krum paid him no mind, then again it seemed he wasn't paying attention to anyone.

Whilst lost in his ponderings he failed to notice the Hall being exited, not aware he had risen from his spot, not until he was no longer walking and found himself in a group of tall, anxious looking Durmstrangs did he realized that he'd moved at all. He noticed Karkaroff ahead, staring none other than The-Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Die down. He sighed and put his hands on his hips, not liking the fact he was being held up with such nonsense. Though he caught a rather tall, broad shouldered boy eyeing him and he raised his brows. He was certain he hadn't done anything to earn such an intense gaze and stocked it up to his name, perhaps he was well known on appearance alone?

The boy-no, Krum was no boy, he reminded himself, he was of age and quite obviously beyond the trivial nonsense of boyhood-stared him down like he'd never seen another human being before. So Malfoy straightened himself up, extended a hand and let his brows fall neatly into their usual place, a smug air about him as it always was.

"Draco Malfoy," Was all he felt necessary to say to this man, he thought the name would stir some interest or respect from him but he just stared blankly, Draco was unaware that the only reason Krum knew him was that he'd seen him when he'd gone up into the top box to claim his prize at the Qudditch World Cup over the summer. He grunted, shrugged, and turned his head, speaking in a low grumble that seemed to emanate from his chest rather than his throat. His accent was thick and he seemed to be struggling with his words,

"Und vat do you vant, Dray-coh Malvoy?" He asked darkly, not looking at him, he was stiff and looked rather irritated. The boys around him chortled with deep, gruff laughter at the failed attempt to catch their classmate's eye. Draco was taken aback at this blatant disregard for respect, feeling his face heat up a bit. How could he shove him, a Malfoy, off so easily? As though he was another adoring fan to irritate him with a plea for an autograph or something, it wasn't how Draco had planned his first conversation at all. No. This disrespect would not do, it would have to go at once, Draco decided with a shake of his head. He fixed Krum with his now narrowed eyes, opening his mouth to speak, but then the voice of Mad-Eye Moody sprang into the room.

"Yeah, that's Harry Potter." And Draco scowled as his limelight was taken from him and he stormed out of the room, casting a nasty look at Harry as he went, not daring to look back at the Durmstrang boys and especially not at Moody. A man his father told him to disassociate with whenever possible, and upon seeing him at the feast had no arguments on the subject whatsoever. With that he stormed down the hallways without a single word to any of his fellow Slytherin's, simply snarled the password before finding himself resting in his four poster bed in the dormitories, fuming.

He wouldn't be disrespected again; Krum had made a fatal mistake to push him aside like he was no one. As he stared at the dark drapes that surrounded his bed he formulated several ideas to catch the man's attention and get him on his side. He had disappointed his father with Potter's refusal; he would not lose the chance to redeem himself with someone far more important. Though he was a tad worried that his father wouldn't approve of him befriending someone so well connected with the likes of Igor Karkaroff, someone his father had shown deep dislike for. He often called him a traitor and went on about how he deserved to be punished for what he'd done to important people-his father never did tell him who they were or what he'd done, only that he was treacherous and a filthy traitor-he was the reason his father had agreed with his mother on not sending him to Durmstrang.

It wasn't until late into the night that Draco finally dozed off, his mind spinning and his face burning with irritation at the way things had gone. He tossed and turned the entire night and woke up looking rather a mess.