Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine, but Fred, Draco, Dean, Snape, and Ron are. Just to clarify. Sorry for the inconvenience. Thanks to Patia for the comments last time! Please continue! Thanks also to Meghan for kindly beta-ing. No thanks to Rowling for the awful events in HBP. Best book, worst ending, in terms of Kleenex usage. I wasted half a box on "I'm not worried, I'm with you, Harry" alone.

Oh yeah, spoilers ahead, if you're dumb enough to not have read the book before reading fanfic o.0

Chapter One: On the Wall

It was an odd sensation, observing your own funeral. From the spot on the wall where his portrait now hung, Albus Dumbledore could see right out the lone window onto the lake, before which the entire Hogwarts population was gathered—along with a few others.

He gave a small smile, seeing Minerva McGonagall unconsciously dab her eyes on Grawp's tunic, and all the people he knew and loved all congregating for him. He sighed deeply, and adjusted the half-moon spectacles on his crooked nose. Albus knew he had had to die, and that he had to die for Harry's sake. Sybill Trelawney gave him the pleasure of knowing this only a few months prior, to which he was eternally grateful. It pained him to know that he would never be able to give her another pay rise for the achievement of three actual predictions, and that led him on to the thought that he would have to waste the rest of his portrait's days here, not able to do anything, not able to protect anyone.

He wandered over to Armando Dippet's portrait, in which he was dozing nicely, so Albus was free to stand quietly and watch the proceedings below with a better view of the crowd. He anxiously scanned the crowd for Harry, whom he knew would definitely be seeking a chat with him. At long last, he spotted him on the end of a long row, sitting beside what looked like Ginevra Weasley. Her brother Ronald and Hermione Granger were there also, and the two pairs were engaged in each other, to the point where Albus felt obligated to look away, smiling slightly. Harry would undoubtedly try to half-heartedly free himself of Ginny, but she, headstrong, brave, loyal, and very much in love, would, of course, not listen. Ron and Hermione were a different story. Voldemort would most probably try to use their love against them, like he did Harry and Sirius the previous year. However, Voldemort was not a loving man, nor would he ever be. With the interference of each Horcrux, his power unknowingly diminished. Harry would have to understand that. The rustle and murmur of distant movement remained by the lake, alerted Albus that his service was over, but the four best pupils Albus had ever encountered remained by the lake, holding each other.

Cornelius Fudge let himself into the Headmaster's study, feeling rather out of place. He had managed to slip away from Scrimgeour at the reception—not that most of them felt like eating. There were the couple exceptions, like that annoying Umbridge woman, Rita Skeeter, assorted other political hopefuls that hoped their appearance there would further their careers. He however, left swiftly, pausing only to pat Hagrid clumsily on the shoulder, which he still had to reach up for, even though he was standing, and Hagrid sat. In fact, Hagrid lay slumped on the table, clutching a tankard of mead, and was ignoring and unresponsive to Olympe Maxime's crooning sympathies. Hagrid merely grunted at the former Minister's presence, so Fudge nodded,and walked on, twirling his staff in hands, as the absence of a hat clearly deprived him of the luxury. He wore a neatly pressed pinstriped suit his wife lovingly prepared for him at four in the morning, just for today. Reflecting, he wondered why she hadn't left him yet. In any case, the purpose of his visit was really to see Dumbledore, thank Merlin he had a portrait.

A portrait, however, won't do much good, I'm afraid, when it comes to the safety of Hogwarts' students, Cornelius.

Fudge jumped. "Eh, what? Whozzair?"

Come now, my dear Cornelius, I am an accomplished enough Legilimens as to communicate non-verbally.

"Dumbledore, you sly rascal! Where are you?" Fudge exclaimed exasperatedly.

"On the wall," Dumbledore replied placidly, moving back to his own frame with a last glance at Harry and Ginny, who were now alone by the lake. Fudge spied him, and beamed.

"Dumbledore, my old chap! Good Lord, that was some burial you got there."

"So it was," Albus replied gravely. "That was a very touching speech, although I'd have preferred to be remembered by my somewhat spectacular skill at Gobstones, than my 'ability to restore calm unto others.'"

Fudge chuckled. "Death hasn't changed you much, has it?" His chuckle died quickly, and he gazed intently at the only person he'd ever dared call mentor. "Dumbledore, we need to talk. The entire world is now in serious peril. With You-Know-Who now back in full swing, and half the non-human population on his side, not to mention walking corpses and a few hundred Death Eaters at his beck and call, we're done for, Albus! And frankly, with you gone…well…what fighting chance we did have is torn to shreds!" He finished his ranting monologue, panting. Dumbledore didn't reply for a moment, but when he did, Fudge could fully appreciate the eulogy he had just spoken.

"Cornelius, I know all too well that Voldemort now has a clear path through the Ministry. I also know that nothing we do involving force will stop him. I know a few things, Cornelius, that you do not, and probably should. Please, take a seat." Fudge did so, feeling slightly apprehensive. "Excellent, now"—he sat in a conveniently-placed chintz armchair—"I must tell you that I am—was, excuse me, was the most powerful wizard on our side, all humility aside. I was also lucky enough to be the only one Voldemort"—Fudge gasped—"ever feared…although why, I cannot tell you. I hope it wasn't because of my fashion sense. In any case, Voldemort now anticipates one other good wizard to provide some sort of opposition for him to enjoy himself with. He then means to kill this valiant wizard, restoring him to his normal evil state—with no weaknesses."

"And…who is this wizard?"

"Harry Potter."

Fudge sighed. "I should have known."

"Yes, well, Harry will need all the training he can get to face Voldemort, and win. I trust you can supply it?"

"And if we don't?" Fudge asked timidly.

"We die."

"Not on my watch," remarked a rough voice, wryly.

Fudge jumped, again. "Confund it, you'll give me a hernia if you keep—Moody!" Indeed, Mad-Eye Moody stood in the doorway, stooped form no less intimidating than ever.

Dumbledore beamed, his acrylic face crinkling in happiness. "Alastor, please sit!" Mad-Eye shrugged and swept off his travelling cloak and bowler cap, revealing greying grizzled hair, and a face that looked even more like a Frankenstein, as the exhaustion he clearly felt showed through his eye. The other eye, electric blue and blank, whizzed wildly in his head, so Fudge looked away, feeling queasy. Dumbledore, on the other hand, placed his fingertips together in that habitual mannerism of his, and stared benignly at the newcomer. "So, Alastor, what's the status? I was just informing Cornelius here of our past actions within the Order." Moody raised a partially severed eyebrow.

"You're informing 'im?" he growled. "Why? The Order's undercover for a reason."

"What's the Order?" Fudge asked curiously.

"Yes, Alastor, but I think Cornelius has the right to know we've been snooping, especially when it's no longer a safety issue, but an ethical one."

"You've been WHAT? And what the ruddy hell is the Order?" Fudge was getting annoyed now.

"Dumbledore, what if he gets captured? What then? He'll be a danger! A liability!"

"Not if he doesn't know more than he needs to." Moody growled, but shrugged, and let him explain to Fudge, who was looking rather purple, and livid. "Cornelius, the Order of the Phoenix is a secret anti-Voldemort society that seeks information to use against him. We have Aurors, Ministry officials, and other brave volunteers on the inside to keep the information flow steady. We have assisted in capturing and unfortunately, killing quite a number of known Death Eaters, and have stopped new recruits where we can. We lead dangerous lives, Cornelius, but the satisfaction of helping to defeat Voldemort is worth it all." He glanced at Moody, who was staring at Fudge with both eyes.

Fudge sat like a fish out of water, gulping and mouthing unspoken words. Finally, he managed, "You were conspiring against me!"

Dumbledore sighed. "No, Cornelius, only against Voldemort."

"O-oh. So—oh. Right, ok. Oh. Oh, ok. Right. Er—"

"Shut up, man!" Moody growled, annoyed. Fudge shut up at once. "Anyway, I came for your funeral, o'course, but also 'cause I found out that that traitor Snape's been promoted in the Death Eater ranks." Moody spat at the name. Dumbledore shook his head sadly.

"Severus did not betray me. In fact, this was all according to plan. I hadn't actually expected to die until recently, but I knew it had to be for the final solution…for Harry." There was a silence.

"Snape still killed you. We have witnesses, how can you say that—"

"I know what I'm talking about, Alastor. Now, this needs to be put on the record, so no one kills him…ahem, yes, well, Narcissa and Bellatrix—I trust you know who they are?" Satisfied at the murmur of assent, he continued. "Well anyway, they approached him with an Unbreakable Vow in mind. You may know that one Draco Malfoy was forced to recently join the ranks of his father's master? Yes, well, he was ordered to kill me. He is not a killer. Therefore, Snape was bound by one of the strongest forms of magic, to kill me, hence completing young Mr. Malfoy's task. This would bring Severus closer to Voldemort, and being the spectacularly accomplished Legilimens he is, could slowly worm his way into Voldemort's deepest consciousness. Voldemort would then be susceptible to Harry's attack. It's the only feasible way…" he trailed off.

"How did you know you were going to die?" Fudge asked warily.

"It was told to me in a prophecy. It was also confessed to me by Severus himself." Moody gasped.

"Snape told you? That means—"

"That he is still very much on our side, yes." There was a long pause, then Fudge rose.

"I'll be back, Dumbledore, to discuss a few things. I must be getting back…yes…Moody, Dumbledore…" he bowed himself out, looking a little bewildered. He needed time to think.

Omg, I just realised one of the comments I made here was really provocative…YAY. Erm, where is it…ah. Voldemort would most probably try to use their love against them, like he did Harry and Sirius the previous year. HAHAHAHAHAHAA YESSSSS.