A/N: Today we introduce a word that research (a.k.a. Google) has shown to be as yet unused in the Potterverse : 'religionship'. It refers to the manic fervour of the shipping wars. (Ship is short for relationship, in case you ever wondered and were too busy to check.)

Now that we've said that, a word to fellow H/Hr shippers. Consider that (1) there is a close magical relationship of objects with similar names, (2) a Patronus reflects someone with whom the caster has a strong emotional bond, (3) Hermione's Patronus is an (p)otter.

Of course, JKR explains this away by saying that otters are her favourite animal and that she sees a bit of herself in Hermione. If Hermione wants to ship with Harry, Rowling had better not get in her way... has someone written a one-shot where Hermione confronts her creator about this? ;)

It's a short chapter because I'm tired.

Headmistress' Office, Hogwarts, one day after Moody told McGonagall that Albus Dumbledore had gone to suck the Great Lemon Drop In The Sky...

Minerva McGonagall sighed. When the last meeting of the Order of the Phoenix had been in 1981, a hundred and fifty eight witches and wizards had attended. Of that number, a hundred and thirty were still alive and sane (Frank and Alice Longbottom being the most prominent of the exceptions). Of those, eighty six were still in Britain prior to Dumbledore's demise, and sixty two after it. But only twenty five had shown up to today's meeting, and that included the five new members.

James Potter was one of them. He sat stony-faced next to a stunned-looking Sirius Black. She had informed James earlier that day about Albus' belief that Harry and not Paul had survived Voldemort's curse. She wondered how Paul would react when James told him. If James told him. James hadn't actually said any words (grunts did not count) to her since she had told him ten hours previously.

Now she was going to tell everyone else present.

She checked Albus' drawer to see if she could find any lemon drops. Just as it had been the two times she had already checked that day, it was empty.

She looked at her watch. She drummed her hands on the table. She rolled her eyes. She watched Moody roll his eyes. She ran out of things to do to procrastinate saying what she had to say.

"Welcome to the first meeting of the Order of the Phoenix since 1981," she said. There were several glances to the empty perch where Fawkes used to sit. "If anyone wants to quibble about its name, do so now."

No-one said anything, though there were more glances at the empty perch. She took out her wand and moved it to the side of the room so it would not be a distraction and a reminder of her predecessor.

"Albus Dumbledore is dead," she said. "He Who Must Not Be Named is not dead any more." There were nods and gasps all around. Evidently, several people had hoped to hear that Dumbledore was alive. McGonagall motioned to Alastor to explain what happened the day Dumbledore died. He did so, and a few tears were shed during that time. Then he handed the floor back to her.

With a sigh, she began relating what Albus had told Alastor about the Boys Who Lived. Moody could have done this himself, but it sounded more credible coming from her. Besides, she was the leader of the Order, not Moody.

The response was, as expected, highly silent followed by highly vocal.

In fact, half the people in the room refused to believe it. And when Potter and Black remained silent, McGonagall knew she had to do something to prevent the Order splitting up over the issue.

"Quiet!" she shouted in her most authoritative voice. Considering that she had taught several of the people in the room at some point, this worked. "It does not matter to us if Harry or Paul Potter is the Boy Who Lived, as long as we fight Voldemort. Do we at least agree on this?"

Muttered agreements, reluctant nods, fervent nods. Someone's hair tested all the colours of the rainbow in quick repetitive succession.

"There is more news," continued McGonagall. "Some of you will remember that Crina Vanescu was hired as the DADA Professor by Albus. She was only able to teach for a term due to these idiotic regulations that the Ministry has come up with. She is a member of the Order, and has now returned to Romania to recruit more vampires to help us."

There were protests.

"Silence!" shouted McGonagall. "May I remind you that vampires have served in the Order before? If anyone has any objections to receiving help from vampires or werewolves - Remus Lupin will be leaving soon on a similar mission - the door is open."

A couple of people left.

"Anyone else?"

No one else.

"Now, as some of you already know, Crina Vanescu used to be a member of the Order before. She is a turned vampire. She was turned in 1986 and has now recovered from the memory loss that followed her turning." McGonagall was careful to avoid mentioning for how long the loss had lasted. "But then she was known as Lily Evans."

Shock. Many looks at James, who nodded. There was much muttering and whispering and words of disbelief. Two chairs were fallen off of.

"Do you all understand the implications of this?"

A few nods. Disbelief still hung in the air, like a sword of Damocles over stale pita bread.

"How much of this is secret to the Order?" asked the (now-)pink-haired witch.

"A very good question, Nymphadora," said McGonagall, causing the young Auror to scowl magnificently. "Voldemort is aware that Harry is the Boy Who Lived, and that is why he used Harry's blood in his resurrection..."

"How do we know young Harry didn't give him the blood himself?" asked Amos Diggory, who didn't know of or share his son's opinions regarding the two Potter boys.

Even James stood up and vocally protested this. Sirius, surprisingly, was the one to calm his friend down.

"May I remind you all," said Minerva, "as I have needed to be reminded myself, that Harry Potter shares the same house as Alastor? For now, if it's not too much of a strain on your self control, shut up. I'm not done with the announcements yet."

Moody grinned. If there had been any fears that Minerva McGonagall would be unable to take over the mantle of her mentor, they were rapidly disappearing. The tabby Animagus had had plenty of time to seethe while in a trunk for three months. Now her claws were out and awaiting an enemy to use as a scratching post or kitty litter box.

"Hogwarts," said McGonagall, "has been home to a Death Eater for the past few months. Her name is Citrina Harrap and she escaped. She was impersonating a member of staff, while the said teacher was held prisoner. In this time she managed to obtain Harry Potter's blood for Voldemort's resurrection by Imperiusing Pomona Sprout to do so. She also betrayed Severus Snape, almost killed a Slytherin student - Millicent Bulstrode - for the crime of making friends with other houses, and led Voldemort's vampires to the house of Hermione Granger, Harry Potter's Muggleborn Gryffindor girlfriend who is the brightest witch in her year. Her actions triggered a series of events that resulted in the torture and death of Snape, the torture and near-death of Remus Lupin, and enough psychological torture of the Grangers to cause them to pull their daughter out of Hogwarts. It was only thanks to Lily's actions - she escaped Voldemort's clutches and killed ten or so vampires and Death Eaters and rescued Lupin, Granger, and Potter - that things were not worse."

She paused. "I was the one impersonated. Citrina was my friend, my best childhood friend."

No-one said anything. They could almost hear her unsheath her claws.

The family and close friends of Albus and Aberforth Dumbledore held a private ceremony in their native Cornwall village.

Meanwhile, the Ministry held a much more elaborate and well-attended funeral for Albus where many fine words were spoken and several packets of lemon drops were consumed in his memory.

A third memorial was held by stalwarts of the British confectionary industry, but details of this were not made known to the public. The only journalist tried to crash the ceremony was turned into ingredients for blood pops.

Norag Ivanisevic and his team of vampire assassins left Britain two days after Crina Vanescu did. They had orders, given by Lady Impali based on the information of Lord Voldemort, to track her down and "terminate her with extreme prejudice". Norag had rolled his eyes at that apocalyptic remark ("It's so 1979!") though not in front of his boss.

They took with them the corpses of their two suicide bombers from the Hogsmeade attack and of a third team member who was killed in a freak accident involving an enchanted electric razor that shaved his head off.

Three days later, Hogwarts Opening Day

Blaise Zabini walked defiantly to the train at Platform Nine and Three Quarters, his trunk and emergency portkeys safely ensconsed in his robe pockets. There were students milling about, parents doing the parent thing (his breath caught and he tried not to think about that), and Aurors around for security.

It was not particularly difficult to notice the looks that he received once people caught sight of the snake mark on his cheek.

'Gits,' he thought to himself. 'Bloody gits, all of them. One stupid tattoo and suddenly I'm causing firsties to widdle their unmentionables and everyone else to treat me like a fucking Slytherin. Oh, wait. I am a fucking Slytherin. Well, almost, depending on Katie. I'm glad she's older than me.'

He looked at his Magically enhanced Rolex. It had belonged to his mother. He hoped someone would challenge him soon about what he was doing wearing a ladies' watch, and that that someone would be worth a good hex. He'd been reading his mother's school journals that she'd left him in her will, and there was a marvellous curse relating to the loss of bladder control that he was itching to try out.

It was still twenty minutes before departure time and he kicked himself for being early. Normally his mother would spend her time fussing about him so much that he'd get to the station with three minutes to spare. He had wondered why it was always three and not two or four and a half. He had even wondered once if his mother was doing it on purpose because three was a magic number. She had laughed when he had confronted her about it and queried why she couldn't have chosen seven instead of three.

Anastasia Zabini had a nice laugh.

Anastasia Zabini had had a nice laugh.

He blinked away the tears that were threatening to form. Time to get on the train. Katie would find him there. It was a pity Harry was already at Hogwarts.

Speaking of Potters... he spotted Paul and his pride of sycophantic lions a few meters away and decided it was an excellent time to practise his sneer.

He practised his sneer. Nothing drove away sad thoughts like a good sneer.

Paul saw him and sneered back. Blaise chuckled - Gryffindors never could sneer properly. Though he'd never seen Hermione or Katie sneering. He added the latter thought to his ever expanding list of personal research topics.

He heard a shout a few feet away.

"Let me go!"

"You have no right to do this!"

"Yes we do, you bloody Slytherin scum!"

There was a flash of red, a few screams, more flashes, more screams.

The wheels in Blaise's mind, which had been gathering rust in the past fortnight, groaned as they turned. But they did turn, and what popped up was the Daily Prophet's headlines of a week ago about Serpentinus members being hauled in for questioning.

Bugger.

The Aurors were arresting people with the snake mark.

Nine years ago, Anastasia Zabini created a monster. Its birth was innocuous; just a five year old getting a birthday present. But the present was a magical camera and from then on no Zabini was safe from the roving paparazzi-in-training that was Blaise Quentin Loyola Amorfus Zabini. Anastasia had groaned several times in public about the annoyance that was her son, though she would immediately follow each set of groans by showing off her favourite photographs taken by Blaise.

Two years ago, her husband (number six) had given - much to the family's collective dismay - Blaise an enchanted ring that could take photographs. They were not very clear photographs since the ring was so small and size-changing charms interfered with a camera's full functionality. He didn't use the ring much for this reason, though he had registered it with both the E.S.P.C.P. (European Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Photographers) and the E.S.E.C.P. (European Society for the Encouragement of Cruelty to Paparazzi).

But this was the perfect opportunity to take pictures, even if he had no clue what to do with them afterwards. It was a photographer's instinct: "See spectacle, will click".

He managed to use his ring to take a dozen shots of underage Slytherins being manhandled by the Aurors before he was caught himself.

"Hey, you!" A tough hand landed roughly on his shoulder and spun him ninety degrees. "What's your name?"

The speaker was a wizard with short grey hair. His name tag said "Dawlish" in large letters and "Calrove" in smaller letters above it.

"Blaise Zabini."

Dawlish's face brightened. "Zabini? Excellent. You will be accompanying us for questioning for being a member of the Serpentinus cult."

"I'm not a member! I don't know where this mark came fr-" shouted Blaise before another Auror stunned him from behind.

The last thing he saw was Katie's frantic figure running towards him.

The last thought he had as he fell to the platform was that he had lost the perfect opportunity to make a 'saved by the Bell' joke.

A/N: Dawlish's first name is derived from one of the most dangerous and influential men in the United States. That's a bit of a compliment to the sycophantic canon character, but never mind.

Coming up: More on what happens to Blaise in Ministry custody, and the first few days at Hogwarts. Because of the mark and the Ministry's stance, not all of Harry's allies are going to stick with him. Also - though this will take some chapters - remember the map.

Did no-one figure out the tennis reference that's been around since Chapter 15?