Keiran Black was a mystery for everyone. He was a silent Slytherin who showed the signs of immense power but he insisted on poor spellwork. He harbored a strong grudge for the Girl-Who-Lived, yet he ended up being her best friend. He was supposedly Draco's lost cousin. Keiran thought he had himself all figured out. But then he is more of a mystery than he himself knows. Dark!Harry.

A/N: Your reviews make my day! Thanks a lot! IF you see, any grammar or spelling mistakes blame it on word, not me. Ms Word makes the most ridiculous suggestions to my perfect grammar. Sometimes makes me wonder about who really does have a spelling and grammar check program, Microsoft Word? Or me?

And for those who were wondering how Harry became Keiran…you'll find out gradually.

Disclaimer-This isn't mine, aside from the plot of course. Anything you recognize belongs to the great Rowling.

Living a Lie

Halloween, 1981

Voldemort passed by the carefree laughter of the children dressed in costumes, the scent of sweets and the gaudily decorated houses with a smirk on his face. It was the perfect day to carry out his plan. To exterminate the little pests foretold to destroy him. Everybody was rejoicing, and so would he when the task was done. Some with wry humor would say that he was also perfectly dressed for rejoicing on this night, with his dark hood and billowing cloak. He had dressed in this manner once when he was young and it was Halloween at the orphanage, but he couldn't picture himself going up to one of the houses and yelling: "Trick or treat"! What would that do to his reputation?

He shook his head irritably. Where were all these silly thoughts coming from? Disgusted with himself, he proceeded to walk faster toward the house that had appeared at the end of the road, the house that nobody was supposed to be seeing. The smirk on his face was getting bigger and bigger and bigger as he approached. This was a good night.

He could see the mudblood mother playing with her twins through what he supposed was the living room window. Foolish, naïve woman. Thinking that they could be safe by placing trust I friends. Voldemort vowed to never let that happen to him. He would never trust. He had no friends. Thus he wouldn't die. Placing his life and safety in somebody else's hands was preposterous!

"Tom!" Voldemort froze where he was. Only one person was allowed to call him by the detestable name without suffering a cruciatus or two, and he clearly remembered telling her to stay behind. He spun on the spot with his eyes narrowed, his suspicions were proven correct.

Bellatrix was running toward him, her wavy hair flying behind her and a red-haired bundle in her arms. Her cheeks were flushed from all the running she had done and once she had caught up to him she had to take a few moments to catch her breath first, clutching his arm as she did so. She wasn't bothered by Voldemort's stern glare. Maybe she had seen it too often before.

"And why, may I ask, are you here when I specifically ordered for you to stay behind?" Voldemort demanded in his cold tone once she had recovered.

Bellatrix turned her gray eyes on him, she was frowning while she clutched the bundle to her chest. "I told you I wanted to come," she said. "I couldn't let anything happen to you."

Voldemort glared at her. "That's ridiculous! How could two infants possibly harm me, the greatest wizard on earth?"

Bellatrix looked alarmed by the rage that Voldemort was displaying. He on the other hand was quite pleased by the effect that he was having on her. But he didn't let it show on his physical features. Instead, he directed his crimson gaze towards the sleeping infant in Bellatrix's arms.

"Why did you have to bring the brat?" he hissed.

Bellatrix lost her alarmed look at his words and she brought the infant closer to her. She glared at him. "It would be a disgrace if people found out that I had a miscarriage because of that blood traitor," She spat. "She's my replacement. All I need is a bit of your blood for the ritual and then…"

"Enough!" Voldemort cut her off, annoyed by her gall to defend the hideous thing. I see no reason why I should taint my blood with the likes of her."

"Well, if you won't allow me to blood adopt her then at least let me come with you. I can torture the woman for you. I can do anything. Just let me come with you."

"If anything goes wrong because of your insolence…" Voldemort trailed off, letting the message sink in. He was hoping that he could cow her to go away. But whenever it came to him and his safety, she would exhibit a Gryffindor like courage. She gave a determined nod, and then she took out a baby carrier and placed the redhead in it before slinging it over her back so that her arms could be free.

Without waiting to see if Bellatrix was ready, Voldemort turned around and began walking towards the house again. Impatience bubbling within him. He pointed his wand at the door when he was affronted with it and blew it apart. With Bellatrix at is heel he entered the room swiftly. The mudblood mother shrieked and tried to shield her children from him, her wand trained on his heart, but he casually disarmed her and caused her to crumple to the ground in pain when a cutting charm of his slashed through her side.

"May I play with her, Tom?" Bellatrix asked sweetly behind him.

"Do as you please, Bella." Voldemort said.

"Thank you. CRUCIO!"

The mudblood began screaming behind him as Bellatrix laughed maniacally. But Voldemort didn't pay attention to any of these. He turned to meet to identical emerald-green eyes. The girl was red-haired, and she was staring at him fearfully, the slight pucker of her lips showed that she was on the verge of crying. The boy on the other hand, had messy black hair that stuck at the back of his head and he was also staring up at Voldemort with his big emerald eyes, but he was different. He wasn't staring in fear, in fact, he looked angry. But Voldemort didn't care about what these babies felt. He put on a cruel smile and asked:

"Now, who wants to die first?"

Living a Lie

Keiran rushed down the corridors, cursing himself under his breath as he hurtled around a corner, he hadn't noticed that he had spent a lot more time in the bathroom than he had intended too. By the time that he had gotten out, it had been five minutes past the time he should have been in the History of Magic classroom. So much for not attracting attention to himself like Father told him too. He was late for his first ever lesson. Curses.

If he hadn't taken the time to get to know Hogwarts earlier in the day he would have been lost and become even later. But as he had, and he couldn't be even more thankful for it, he found the classroom in six minutes and he burst through the door. He wasn't winded, but he pretended to be, so that he wouldn't draw attention to his unnaturally strong stamina.

Thankfully, the teacher, or what Keiran thought to be the teacher as he wasn't expecting a ghost to be the one teaching him, hadn't noticed his sudden appearance and simply continued droning in a gravelly tone. Keiran eyes the class uncertainly, unsure of where to sit. He caught Violet waving at him from the corner of his eye and he turned to see her beckoning to him, there was an empty chair beside her.

Suppressing the urge to groan, Keiran trudged over to the seat she was pointing too and sank in. Who would have known that success in his manipulations would make him feel so down? Meanwhile, Violet was grinning at him, unaware of the masochistic thoughts currently running through his brain.

Draco, who was sitting on the chair on the other side of Potter and was obviously regretting it, was giving him questioningly looks again. Keiran ignored these and focused his attention toward the lesson, and regretted it.

Professor Binns, as he learned his teachers name was from a nameplate on the table, proved to be a complete bore. He spoke as if he was just talking to himself, and it continued in one completely flat tone. Keiran gave up on taking notes 5 minutes through the lecture and decided to just read the history book thoroughly afterwards. Honestly, what was the staff thinking when they made History of Magic the first subject in the morning when they knew fully well, who the teacher was going to be? Magical education is definitely going downhill. Now I understand why Father was so reluctant to send me here in the first place, Keiran thought, this is bloody ridiculous.

He was just about falling asleep when Violet tapped him on the shoulder, causing him to jolt up suddenly and knock his inkwell to the floor. The resulting crash made every head, except the professor's of course, to turn in their direction. Keiran glared at all of them coldly. They all turned their heads back to the front with a hint of fear in their eyes. Keiran could admit that his glares were top-rate frightening, second only to the Dark Lord himself. He smirked, reached down to save his inkwell from spilling more ink on the floor and turned to face the flushed Violet Potter

"Sorry about that." She whispered quietly, looking down at the little pool of ink the fallen inkwell had spilt. Her cheeks turning redder by the moment and her auburn hair swung in front of her eyes, covering them from view.

"It's okay." Keiran answered in what he hoped was a soothing voice.

Violet nodded mutely then she handed two letters to him, her eyes still not leaving the ground. "Draco told me to give these to you." She muttered, and then she turned back to her desk and began scribbling on the piece of parchment there.

Knitting his eyebrows together as he looked down at the letters he found out that they were from Keelan and his mother. He glanced up at the professor, there was no change there, still droning on and on with glazed eyes looking nowhere in particular, then deciding that he was missing nothing important, he took the letter from his mother and tucked it in his pocket. Then opened the letter from Keelan and began to read:

Dear Keiran,

Should I even ask you about what house you've been sorted in? You might as well consider it as an insult so I better not. You might be wondering why in hell would I be sending you letters. Well let me get straight to the point. Be careful with Kiara's letters.

Dear sister has done something I dare call, mischievous, to them. I overheard her casting the enchantments and me, being the caring, loving, absolutely adorable little brother that I am, I'm warning you.

I know you're wondering if this is really me writing this letter. Right, my quiet, brooding, insensitive, cold brother being all sarcastic and stuff, but hey, all the silence I've been radiating lets me pent up some really nasty stuff in me; if you know what I mean. Anyway, as another explanation, I'm writing this letter to get back to you. No not revenge. Rather, it's my own way of thanking you for teaching me how to play the piano. One day, I swear you're going to regret doing that. Like the way you hate how you taught me how to play chess. I simply love the look on your face whenever I slaughter you on a game. Look towards brighter days dear brother, I have brilliant performances that you need to witness.

Your wonderful brother, Keelan.

Keiran honestly did not know whether he should laugh, or flame over to Slytherin Fortress in phoenix form to strangle the uppity little…wait, what was that again about Kiara's letters? He shot a horrified look at his pocket. He fumbled in it and extracted the crumpled piece of parchment. To his horror, his attempt to save himself from humiliation was a few moments too late. The ball of parchment was rapidly transforming into a cuddly, furry, pink and abominably cute…..thing. And it was sitting in his hand. Oh the horror.

HE tried to chuck it out the window, but quickly found out that it was stuck to his hand through a sticking charm. Hopefully not permanent, but with Kiara, you never know. Kiara had always been the master for torture, whether that included knives or pranks. Cursing under his breath, he remembered a part in the letter that Kiara had written;-Make sure to incendio this-perfect, Keiran thought. When I confront her about this, she's just going to say that she told me to get rid of it, and since he was too busy in his own affairs, it was his entire fault. Maybe Keelan was in the joke too, he knew that Keelan writing letters was suspicious. Blast it. This was probably a revenge for…well he didn't know really, there was a list of things he's done that deserved retribution. But he thought he'd be safe at Hogwarts.

Keiran decided not to set it on fire. It was stuck to his hand, if he set fire to it, then he was setting fire to himself as well. HE tried cutting curses but they were curbed away when they wee just an inch away from the thing. And now the thing was staring at him with large watery blue eyes. Sickeningly sweet. Keiran frowned at it, and it stuck out a long pink tongue at him. Wait, did it just do that?

"What's that?!" Violet's voice said from over his shoulder. She was goggling the-thing. By the look on her face, Keiran could tell tat she wasn't repulsed by it like he was. How she could do that was beyond him.

"It's ah," Keiran gave a brave stab a explaining why he had this creature in his hand. "It's a gift! Yeah. It's for you." He said, offering the fluffy ball to her. It was staring at her, blinking. She cooed at it and surprisingly, it hopped off, right into her waiting hands. What a relief.

"It's a gift?" Violet asked, still eyeing the creature with marveling eyes. When Keiran nodded, she grinned. "Thank you. I think I'll name it Kei."

Keiran winced. He glanced nervously around to make sure that nobody had seen or heard anything. When he saw Daphne's raised eyebrow and Draco's horrified expression, he had to stifle a groan. Great just great, he was going to have to thank Kiara soon. HE was going home at Christmas, and he decided that he was gong to train a lot harder than Kiara could possibly do. That's when he's going to thank her.

The bell rang after that and they all gathered their things, and shuffled into the corridor. Draco caught up with him right away. "What," he said in a hushed voice, "Was that?" he gestured toward the pink fuzz ball currently sitting on Violet's shoulder. Wince.

"That is Kiara's idea of a prank." Keiran stated. "And this," he continued, pointing at Violet and himself, "Is my Father's idea of spying."

Draco nodded; he wasn't one to question the Dark Lords orders. "That explains a lot." He said. "Saves me from thinking of you turning to the light side, it's not a pretty sight you know." He smirked at Keiran.

"I swear, one day you're going to regret all the times you irritated me. Let me remind you that you are still under my Father's mercy and me. Mother still hasn't forgiven you for the accident. One day you might just pay, Draco." Keiran hissed, his eyes narrowed.

Draco paled but Daphne came in beside him and said: "In a foul mood today are we? Does it have anything to do with the puffskein you gave Potter?"

"Oh, so that's what it's called." Keiran said. The he shook his head. But he didn't get the chance to say anything else as they entered the Transfiguration classroom. He immediately noticed that the cat sitting on top of the desk was surveying all of them rather sternly. Animagus! His senses were screaming when he recognized the familiar looking markings around the cats' eyes.

Everybody else ignored the cat and sat down in the chairs. Keiran smirked as he turned away from the cat, or rather Professor McGonagall. Didn't these people ever think? An Animagus form could be used for a dozen useful things. But that advantage was lost when everybody from the other side knew exactly what your form was. Showing your Animagus form to all the Slytherin's was a bad move. Keiran would make sure of it.

Keiran sat at the very back of the room so he could see everything that was happening. Violet went to sit beside him and she gave him a tentative smile, which he would have returned, had a blonde Gryffindor girl suddenly not burst into the room, point a Violet and scream "Traitor!" at the top of her lungs.

"Savior of the Wizarding World?!" The blonde girl continued to bellow, "Hah! I bet you killed he-who-must-not-be-named so you could take over! Filthy snake! How dare you try to befriend me on the train? Planning my own murder are you?!!!"

She continued to scream while Violet was becoming very red and tearful. Keiran could see that Professor McGonagall was yet to transform and seemed to actually agree wholeheartedly with the girl's tirade. He shook his head in disgust. The light sides were they? Prejudiced gits the lot of them. He hesitated for a moment, and then made his decision. He stood up, blocking Violet from view and glared directly at the girl. She stopped yelling and audibly gulped.

"You were saying?" Keiran asked sweetly. He raised his eyebrow at the now quivering lips of the blonde girl.

"I…" the girl now seemed speechless. Curious, she had a lot to say just a few moments ago. Keiran had a ton of insulting things he would have called her, but the Professor chose a very wrong time to butt in.

"Enough!" the lined grey woman screeched.

The blonde girl turned to face her, pale-faced. Keiran just looked on calmly.

"Ms. Brown, I expected more from my Gryffindors, you disappoint me. 5 points from Gryffindor." She said, to the protest of the scarlet part of the room. She then gave a tight smile to Keiran, "You displayed Gryffindor courage and loyalty Mr. Black. I award Slytherin 5 points." She ten turned and walked toward the blackboard.

Keiran blanched. Being compared to a Gryffindor was the worst type of humiliation the professor could have come up with. He sat down again, patting Violet on her shoulder. "Thanks." She mumbled. "But you didn't have to do that. I'm used to it."

"You are?"

She nodded as if it was the mot common thing in the world to be used to vulgar words said to her. "I get that a lot."

Keiran was speechless. Violet turned away from him, cuddling the pink puffskein in her arms. She looked defeated, and inside, she probably was. All this time she had been visualizing her as a bigheaded, stupid, spoiled brat. He definitely had not been expecting this withdrawn girl.

"Transfiguration," Professor McGonagall began her lesson, stern and strict. "Is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

She gave the evil eye to Brown who whimpered a little in her seat. Then she turned her desk into a pig and back again. Everybody but a handful of Slytherin's seemed to be impressed. The handful consisted of Draco, Theo, Daphne, a girl named Blaise, and himself. It was what Keiran could categorize as third-class magic. He'd been able to do that when he was seven. And when they'd been told that they weren't going to be doing that, he got even more disappointed. Turning a matchstick into a needle was such a basic skill that even some muggles were able to do it with enough concentration.

This really was getting ridiculous. But as he was told, and so was Draco, that he shouldn't attract attention to himself, he scanned the crowd to see if anybody had finished transfiguring their needle so he could begin with his. Being the first one to succeed could be counted as attracting attention. Unfortunately, no one had succeeded. These people really were pathetic.

Keiran spent the next several minutes waiting for someone, anyone, to get the spell right while he himself pretended to cast the spell though he put a plug on his magic whenever he did so. Finally, a bushy-haired Gryffindor managed to turn her matchstick into a needle and Keiran let out a sigh of relief. As Professor McGonagall was holding the needle up in the air and pointing out to everybody just how pointy, it was Keiran pointed his wand at the matchstick…and missed.

To his horror, and the shattering of all his hopes of not attracting any attention, his spell hit, not the slim form of the matchstick, but the desk it was on. And the desk changed into a needle that he only just managed to catch as his books and Violet's puffskein tumbled toward the ground with a high-pitched squeal. That was what these people called advanced magic and these people were all staring at him with their mouths hanging open. This was just about turning into a day he would curse forever.

"That was spectacular spell-casting, Mr. Black. Ten points to Slytherin for that wonderful demonstration." Professor McGonagall gushed, forgetting all about house rivalry. The bushy-haired witch glare told him that she promised that he would have a most painful death for stealing her spotlight. He grinned weakly at her. His father would not like this. Not at all.

Draco was actually smirking at him again. The nerve of the guy. If he didn't consider him his best friend, he would have become a pile of dung by now. The professor changed the needle back into a desk and smiled warmly at Keiran, something he knew she didn't do often, judging by the lines on her face. Oh great, he just managed to become the teachers favorite.

Lunch after that was thankfully, an uneventful time. Though Violet sitting down next to a Black and a Malfoy did raise a lot of eyebrows, but since the teachers were all sitting in the staff's table, nobody dared to make a move to antagonize her.

After lunch, they had their first Defense against the Dark Arts lesson. Keiran would have called it a dud had he not known that Quirrel was deliberately laying it on thick to ensure that the next generation of witches and wizards would have absolutely no way of defending themselves. It was ironic, the Dark Lord teaching the defense against the dark arts, and it was a thought that kept him in a good mood throughout the lesson.

He didn't bother listening to Quirrel's stuttering; instead, he pulled out his mother's letter. He hadn't gotten a chance to read it in Transfiguration because of McGonagall's expectant gaze in his direction, nor had he been able to do so during lunch because Violet was in close vicinity. But now, Violet sat two seats away from him, in between Draco and Blaise, a girl who she seemed to get along with. Nobody seemed to be paying attention to him as he had chosen one of the chairs at the back again, so he opened the letter and read:

Dear Keiran,

Your dragonhide gloves are in the envelope. Didn't I tell you to pack everything a week early so you wouldn't leave anything? This is school equipment. I hope it didn't arrive too late for your first Herbology lesson. You, young man, would do better to listen to your mother than to spend your time frolicking in the wind on that broom of yours. I saw you yesterday. Flying at break-neck speeds again even when I told you not to. We only care for your safety Keiran. Don't do that ever again. If I see, you do that again you're never receiving anymore brooms as gifts.

Take care and say hi to your father for me,

Love, your Mother.

Very caring, Keiran thought. She never even asked about him once throughout the entire letter. Just nagging. Would it help if he told her that he was just trying to catch up with Hades because he had something to add to the letter he had sent the owl of with? No probably not. Absolutely ludicrous excuse that, even if it was partly true.

He took the gloves from the letter and put it in his bag. Then he turned the letter into ash. "Mr. Black!" Keiran suddenly straightened up as the loud voice of Quirrel rang in his ears. "Y-you're n-not paying attention. Stay after class." The poor attempt of the stuttering professor to be intimidating was hilarious. Keiran had to keep himself from laughing, but since it was all part of the plan and it was practically his idea for Quirrel to be a frightened buffoon most of the time, he had no one to blame but himself. Instead, he tried to look submissive, (as submissive as the next dark lord could possibly look) and answered with a simple: "Yes professor."

After the lesson, everybody filed out of the classroom, with Violet shooting him apologetic looks and Draco waving goodbye with an amused smirk. Once the door had shut, Quirrel began placing privacy wards around the place as Keiran went to sit on the teacher's desk.

Once the professor was done with putting up the wards, he began unraveling the turban again and before long, Keiran was looking once again into the crimson eyes of his father.

"It seems like you've been very busy this morning Keiran." Voldemort said with an amused smirk. Keiran glared at him and he continued on in a more serious tone, "McGonagall had been filling all our ears up on how much of a marvelous student you are; Turning the desk into a needle. Didn't I tell you to stay low-key?"

Keiran had the decency to look ashamed. "I just sort of, missed the matchstick…"

"Hit the desk instead." Voldemort finished the sentence, looking amused again. Contrary to popular belief, the Dark Lord did have feelings; he just didn't show it in the public or to his death eaters. It would hurt his image of unemotional cold evil Lord. Keiran was one of the few people who had actually seen Voldemort smile with real happiness, and laugh, just once, with mirth instead of malice.

"Yes, that was what happened." Keiran said quickly. Voldemort didn't seem to believe him but he didn't say more on the subject. "Indiscretion aside, it looks like you're doing quite well with the second mission I assigned to you."

"Yes father, I dare say it is going too well. Potter is sticking to me like glue." Keiran said distastefully. "Kiara sent me a puffskein under the guise of a letter earlier and to get rid of it I had it look like it was a gift to her. It reinforces our 'friendship' somewhat."

"Good." Voldemort said, "Now go, before anybody gets suspicious."

Keiran was just stepping out of the door when Quirrel, with a newly wrapped turban on his head called out to him. "D-detention, Mr. Black. Ten o' clock tomorrow in my office."

"Yes sir." Keiran intoned.

Then he left with a smirk on his young handsome face.

Living s Lie

"You are all here," Flint announced. "For the cerimonia di accettazione." He gestured toward his left and a great stone statue of a snake curled on top of a Grecian looking podium came floating into the room. The emerald-eyed snake regarded them all hissing softly.

"Another group of first years I see. I reckon I should be grateful that their taking me out again. Need somebody to talk too. Things are getting lonely after a thousand years of living. Sometimes makes me wish I wasn't immortal." Keiran heard the distinctly feminine voice of the snake say. She was rambling, an example of what a millennia of isolation could do to a person…ah, snake.

He would have to talk to the snake later, maybe introduce it to Sarah, but not now. He'd done too many blunders today and he would not include letting everybody know that he was a parselmouth in his list of mistakes for today.

They were called in alphabetical order toward the snake while all the Slytherins from the other years watched on, whispering to each other. Keiran was the first to be called forward and since bad luck seemed to favor him today, instead of the customary nod that the snake was supposed to deliver to him, the snake took one look at him and gave a low bow, causing everybody in the room to gasp. And if the attention that the bow garnered wasn't enough, the snake found it prudent to slither down the podium, something nobody had ever seen it do, and climb up him, finally coming to rest on his shoulder, nuzzling his hair.

"I guess he likes me." He said lamely at the rooms puzzled looks.

"Please get off me. I'll come talk to you soon, I promise." Keiran whispered out of the corner of his mouth. The snake nodded and slid of him, returning to the podium with bit of regret. Nobody noticed the exchange, so before anything else out of the ordinary happened to him, Keiran went over to sit next to Draco.

"That was wicked Keiran." Draco told him. "What a way to blow off the plan."

"Shut it."

Draco chuckled and they watched together as the ceremony continued. Everything went on normally from then on. The snake nodded to each student it was presented with and no bows or any of that sort happened.

"Has the snake ever rejected anybody before?" Keiran asked Theo, the group's bookworm, who was more likely to know the answer than the others.

"Once, Theo said, "But that was a long time ago. Nobody knew what happened to the guy afterwards. He disappeared. I reckon the other Slytherins got rid of him. I think he was a mudblood." Then he was called off and Draco sank down to take his place, having had the snake nod to him as well.

"Did you hear what the people are saying?" Draco asked immediately.

"No," Keiran shook his head, that was when he noticed that everybody was whispering to each other and glaring at one red-headed girl who was too busy cooing at Kei the puffskein to see all the hostile looks. "What?" he asked, as if it wasn't obvious yet, but he needed confirmation.

"They think that it was about time the snake rejected someone again. No need asking who the person they hope will be rejected is. The Draco drawled, eyeing Violet with his pale gray eyes. "Might help your spying if you protect her against those guys huh. Make you two closer."

"Yeah."

"Just make sure it stays in the spying division and not into the genuine friendship one."

"What? Are you jealous Drake? Don't worry; she isn't replacing you as my best friend. Though I might consider it, the look on your face would priceless." Keiran smirked.

"Shut it."

"I remember me telling you to shut it Draco. Have you lost your flair for great comebacks? Being redundant." Keiran shook his head in pity, and before he knew it, Draco had tackled him the ground and they were wrestling with each other. Later, they surfaced from the floor sporting a few new bruises and swept away hairstyles, catching their breath just in time to see Violet Potter, with the puffskein sitting on her shoulder, step in front of the snake.

Keiran, who was just then gulping down a large amount of air, stopped breathing. His face turned purple but he didn't notice this. He was too caught up in the moment as both pairs of emerald-green eyes regarded each other. Keiran didn't know why whether Violet was accepted or rejected mattered to him so much. Before, he wouldn't have cared, but ever since he met her, there was this just a part of him that told him that he should care, that she should matter, he just didn't know why.

After a few tense moments, the snake finally nodded to her. Keiran released the breath he had been holding and everybody in the room either looked amazed or irritated. Violet walked over to them, and smiled at their tousled appearance.

"What have you two been doing?" she asked.

"He started it!" both Draco and Keiran said at the same time, pointing at each other. Then they both burst out laughing when they saw what they had done.

A/N: this was supposed to include the arrival of Sarah, the first flying lesson but then it got too long, and well, there you go.