A/N: This contains spoilers from Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. I don't suggest reading if you haven't read the book all the way through.
Disclaimers: Me no own.
Sunrise, Sunset
Voldemort was happy, to say the least. Even though the boy hadn't completed the job, his loyal servant Snape had. Luck was finally on his side. The war would turn in his favor now that Dumbledore was dead.
Narcissca had told him that Snape had made the Unbreakable Vow with her, to watch over her son and help him if possible. Well Snape hadn't broken his word. His true loyalties had been displayed at last, no more double agents, no more spying; Voldemort knew he now had the upper hand.
Draco was not held in high regard now, since he had failed the original mission. Sure he had let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts, in a most genius manner too, but he had failed to kill the Muggle-loving fool. Now Potter would be weakened by the death of his hero, the defenses of Hogwarts would be weakened, and the Light would be crippled. They lacked a figure-head.
Snape was feeling, well he didn't know what he feeling. The charade had finally ended; he was free from the chains of being the double-agent, no more spying. In exchange though, he had killed the man who had believed in him, offered him a home and job when nobody else would have.
But damn Potter! He had tried to use his own spells against him. Luckily Potter was horrible at Occlumency and he knew his own spell. Now he could no longer show his face in the wizarding world, outside of the Death Eaters. Not that it mattered anymore. He was Voldemort's undisputed servant. The spy who had managed to be so for over sixteen years, when most spies never lasted that long. His skill as a spy and potions master was now undisputed.
Too bad there hadn't been some way to make it look like he had killed Dumbledore, but there wasn't. He had seen the way Dumbledore had been standing, had seen how weak he had been, and it made him curious as to why. Though he was sure Potter had something to do with it. Potter…Dumbledore's Golden Boy, the "Chosen One" of the prophecy and the Light side of the Wizarding World.
Harry knew what he had to do. He had to survive one month at least, that was his plan. If he lasted a month with the Dursley's he'd be of age in the Wizarding World and legally he would be free of them forever. Then he, Ron, and Hermione, after Bill's wedding, would be off on their own, looking for the rest of Voldemort's soul. The locket, the snake, and something of Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, then it would be on to the final battle against Voldemort. He now knew that he was no longer ruled by the prophecy of his fifth year. While traveling, he would stay at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, though he didn't want to. But it was his now, and he had a house of his own now.
Every day, he counted down the days and weeks till his birthday, while repeating his mantra in his head, vowing justice for Dumbledore. He had died, weakened from the potion in the cave chasing a false clue. Whoever R.A.B. had the real locket and Harry was now determined to retrieve it. Somehow he knew that everything would turn out fine, that Voldemort would be defeated, if only to bring justice to his parents, to Cedric, Sirius, and now Dumbledore.
R.I.P. Dumbledore