Author's note: I'm my own beta and some days, I don't even proofread. Especially when it's not even four in the morning. Sorry about it. X

Xaden made it through his first night of the school term without any nightmares. A personal best for him. Without fail, for the last four years, he always dreamt about the night his parents had been murdered. It was as if Voldemort was using legilimency against him, invading his mind and replaying the night his parents had died. Even though Voldemort hadn't been the one to murder them, Xaden was certain the killer had told him, in great detail, about their deaths. Xaden often dreamt about that night over and over, so he was glad for a reason not to have to see his parents tortured and then killed in his dreams.

Because that's exactly what happened. His mother and father had had the Cruciatus curse used on them for a solid two hours before the Death Eater in charge of killing them had murdered them. Xaden had been tied to his chair, forced to watch every horrific moment. Then he had been untied and left alone until the Aurors had shown up. So, if anyone dared to ask him where is allegiance was, he'd always say with the heroes. Always.

He made his way out of the dormitory, ignoring Malfoy, and towards the portrait hole. He knew he needed to get up and away from the castle bottom, towards the Great Hall. He wasn't in much of the mood to sit with the other Slytherins, but he knew that he had pretenses and appearances to keep up. He hurried up the stone steps, away from his common room, and towards the Great Hall. Predictably, he ran smack dab into someone. "Shit! Watch where you're – "

He paused upon steadying himself and seeing who he had run into. Violet Sorrengail was glaring at him, rubbing at her shoulder, and he immediately thawed out. "You watch where you're going, Riorson." Her tone was icy, a snap against him, and he smirked.

"Seems like we both can watch where we're going," he reminded her. She didn't deem that worthy of a reply and just huffed, turning on her heel and getting ready to walk away from him. The fuck he was ready to let her go. "Wait!"

She turned back around slowly to level a glare at him. "What?"

He smirked. "Just wondering if you've heard from Tairn?"

It didn't seem like the best option, to talk about their mated dragons, but Violet Sorrengail never did let him in past her shield charm. She always had the Protego spell cast and ready to go, not to mention the shields she used around her mind. If he didn't know better, he would say she was equipped in the art of blocking legilimens. But he did know better. No fifth year was skilled in that regard.

"Well, if I had, I wouldn't be likely to tell you, now would I?" Violet snapped.

Xaden smirked. "Careful violence, you're being testy."

He had always called her by his nickname for her, as if they were friends. The thing was, it just served to irritate her and he loved seeing her flush that pretty red when she was oh, so mad. It was his favorite thing to see about her.

Violet huffed, rolling her eyes. "If I do, I'll definitely be sure to mention it."

He highly doubted that. He nodded his head, eyes perusing her as he did so. "How's the joints?"

She glared at him with mutiny and he knew she was planning a slow and painful death for him. If there was one thing Violet Sorrengail didn't like, it was to appear weak. He didn't blame her for that. "Not that it's any of your business, but I am fine."

"The pain of any student is everyone's business," he grinned.

Yep, she definitely looked like she wanted to hex. Thank Merlin the school banned hexing in the hallways. He doubted she wanted detention on her first day of their OWL year. "Is there a reason you're bothering me?"

Ouch. So feisty. "Careful, violence. I'll think you're enjoying the attention."

She couldn't quite curtail her eye roll and he lived for making her angry. She was beautiful when her irises flashed dangerously. "If that's all, Riorson.'

He waved his hand forward, signaling that she should go ahead and head on her way. She rolled her eyes once more and walked into the Great Hall, giving Xaden the proper time to check out her gait. She wasn't limping so that told him she had been to Madam Pomfrey, who could heal anything in seconds. He was relieved by that. No matter how many times he liked to wind her up – purely scientific – he didn't like to see her in pain. He wanted to set the world on fire whenever she was hurt. Which was fairly often. Stupid chronic pain.

Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger just walked into the Great Hall at that moment. Xaden wondered if he would be better suited to tell Potter and co that he believed them when they said the Dark Lord was back. He knew that he couldn't give away the fact that he wasn't actually Death Eater material, so he kept his mouth shut on that regard, but how he wished for a chance to tell Harry he was fighting the right side of the war. He knew that the bloke needed to have as many allies as he could get.

The Daily Prophet had spent the summer telling everyone what Harry Potter was off his rocker and Dumbledore was going senile. They had fed into the toxic shit Rita Skeeter posted in her column all the previous year. She had even gone to him for a quote, hoping he'd speak ill of Harry. He hadn't. He hadn't wanted to get caught up in the mess that was Rita's daily columns. He had kept his head down all the previous year, not drawing attention to himself by placing bets on Potter like so many others had. Then, whatever happened in the graveyard that night, he didn't know. He wasn't privy to all the details because the Death Eaters hadn't informed their children, therefore informing him. But he did know Voldemort was back. And he would do whatever it took to stop him.