I do not own anything. All characters are property of Rowling and Meyer.

Bella and Edward examined each other visually with awe and then they turned to Dumbledore and stared at him with the same awestruck expression. Luna Lovegood pushed the star-crossed lovers together with her ring covered hands and let out a giggle that sounded like a xylophone. "Your auras go together," she pointed out quite plainly. Bella then blushed a bright crimson.

Dumbldore took out wand, pointed it into the air and shouted "ACCIO PENSEIVE!." An object shaped much like a fancy baptismal font appeared before of holy water a silvery matter swirled hypnotically about in its basin. "What's a pensieve?" inquired a most earnest Bella as the party joined hands with eachvother. Before she could answer a force much stronger than Edward Cullen pulled them in. Time and space seemed to swirl about them until it suddenly stopped.

"Have we traveled back in time?" Bella inquired. She looked about her new surroundings. She saw a younger Dumbledore with a shorter woman talking in hushed tones to a woman that looked much like a disheveled gipsy fortune teller. The colors in this place seemed muted. Bella felt as though she was Ebenezer Scrooge in a made for TV film of "The Christmas Carroll".

"No silly Bella! We are merely viewer's of Dumbledore's memory." stated Luna like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Don't you Muggles know anything."

"Apparently not."

"You may want to pay attention," admonished Dumbledore in a soft voice.

Bella realized they were standing in a dim, murky pub not unlike the one in which she had met Dumbledore for the first time. Across the room, the younger Dumbledore, resplendent in emerald green robes embroidered with silver crescent moons, and the bedraggled gypsy woman continued their quiet whispered discussion in hushed tones. Suddenly, the woman went stiff, as if a ruler had been shoved down the back of her gauzy orange and purple paisley blouse. She stared straight ahead and began to speak in a loud, harsh voice. It sounded to Bella as if someone had taken a cheese grater to her vocal cords.

"THE CHILD WHO CAN DEFEAT THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN TO THE BEAUTIFUL SWAN AND WALKING DEATH. " intoned the gypsy woman. "THE CHILD WILL UNITE TWO WORLDS TORN ASUNDER AND THE DARK LORD WILL COWER IN FEAR." The woman suddenly collapsed into the arms of the younger Dumbledore, whose

brow became creased as if many years had been added to his age all at once.

For a moment, Bella was confused by what she had just seen. Then the words she had perceived began to resonate in her head. "The beautiful swan," she thought to herself. "I'm not beautiful, I'm just mousy and plain, but my last name is Swan! But it couldn't be!"

Bella turned to Dumbledore in stunned confusion. In a whisper so soft it could barely be heard she asked "Was she talking about me?"

Luna answered before Dumbledore could open his mouth. As if stating the obvious she replied "Of course she was, Bella Swan."

"Dumbledore. What does this mean? Who is "Walking Death" and who is "The Dark Lord?" I don't understand."

"Isabella." Dumbledore said in a voice that was soothing, like a cup of hot tea. " 'The Dark Lord' " is Lord Voldemort." At this an electric shock went through the bodies of Edward and Luna. They gasped almost in tandem. "Edward, Luna, I did not expect you to react as such. His name is Lord Voldemort. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself, you know."

"Dumbledore, you idiot!" cried Edward. "We have every right to fear He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and so should you! Do you have any idea how many people he has killed, the kind of things he can do, the things he can make you do?"

"I do, Edward," Dumbledore answered gravely, as the pub faded and they found themselves back in the lair, back in reality. "But you can Miss Swan can change that."

Bella Swan turned to Edward. She was so innocent. Hours ago, she could of never imagined the nightmare that she would be sucked into. Edward felt a twinge of guilt in his chest as he looked into her eyes. If it hadn't been for those eyes she would have been cold, drained of all blood, and dead hours ago. Her eyes and the deep connection that they shared spared her for the time being. But was it to last? Edward didn't know. He could see that she was thinking, but he didn't know what. "Edward, are you Walking Death?"

In his office, Neville was getting impatient. "Where is that blasted vampire?" he muttered to himself, tapping his wand impatiently on his mahogany desk. "It was a simple assassination. Of a Muggle, for crying out loud! He should have been back hours ago..."

Neville stood and proceeded to pace across his office, his red and black robes billowing around his ankles. His face contorted in confusion as he considered his options. Finally, he concluded that there was only one option available. "I'll have to send someone after him to find out what happened. If he failed, we must know, so that the task can be completed."

Retreating to his desk, Neville tapped his wand on the small speaker on his desk. It crackled into life. "Jacob!" he spat into it. "Get yourself to my office now! There's an assignment waiting for you."

A lazy voice, like a hammock on a summer day, emanated from the speaker. "Again? Geeze, boss, I just got off duty."

Neville rolled his eyes in irritation, as if Jacob were a mosquito buzzing in his ear. "I don't care. Mr. Cullen has been gone for hours on a routine assassination and I need you to look into things."

On the other end of the speaker, Jacob heaved a sigh. "Cleaning up after the bloodsucker again? Fine. I'll be at the office in ten." The speaker connection abruptly died.

Neville settled back at his desk to wait. Jacob was the only member of his team who failed to show him proper respect, he mused. Even the vampire was intimidated by his wizard status. And yet, for some reason, Neville found himself strangely looking forward to his arrival...

Edward suddenly knew what she had been thinking. "Yes," he said softly. "Yes, I am Walking Death. Bella, I'm a vampire."

Tears streamed down Bella's cheeks. Her worst fears had been confirmed. The prophecy was about them. Bella's eyes widened in horror as she came to the realization that the god in front of her was a bloodthirsty monster. She wanted to run, but couldn't. The chord of fate that bound her to Edward was too strong. Bella Swan was a slave to Destiny. There were so many questions she wanted to ask Edward... to ask Dumbledore, but she found herself unable to speak.

Edward sensed her fear. He gently stroked her cheek. It was soft and warm against his granite like fingertips. She felt so fragile. He was afraid too. "We're in this together," he murmured.

A green smoke billowed in Neville's fireplace. He wheezed asthmatically. Floo Powder always triggered Neville's asthma. He made a mental note to keep an inhaler at his desk, like his grandmother told him to. A tan, shirtless, young man stumbled out of the fireplace coughing and swatting the smoke away from his face. "God, I hate floo powder." he said, in a tenor voice that sounded like the soft hum of a motorcycle.

Neville crossed the room to meet Jacob. He was almost giddy. For a second, Neville felt himself slip back into the awkward boy he had been at Hogwarts. He grimaced as he recalled the taunting and the jeers he had received from his peers. But Jacob was about to help him. Soon Bella would be dead, if she wasn't already. Finally, the time had come where it was Neville's turn to laugh.

Is anybody out there? Can someone review? I need your input.