Disclaimer: Couldn't own something as great as Harry Potter even if I tried. :)

Sorry about the delay in posting. Heck of a week it was at work. Needed some quiet time to pen this down. :)

Chapter 12: The Cursed Pair

A pregnant silence followed Sirius's question. Isabella looked rooted to the floor, still under the embrace of Sirius. He continued to stare into the depths of the hazel eyes of Isabella; his own eyes radiated conviction and confidence in the decision he was about to take.

With a shaky hand, she touched his face and managed to say, "Are you sure about this, Sirius? About us?"

Sirius snorted. "Don't think I've been surer of anything else in my life up until this moment," he said, and swooped down to kiss her cheek.

("Harry, look!" said Hermione making Ron and Harry turn around to the other side. The most unusual thing happened: the memory that the three of them were in did not change into another like it usually did. Instead, another memory started to play in the background and seemed to suggest both events took place at exactly the same time).

"I've loved you forever, Izzy," he said, as he pushed a strand of hair off her face. "I haven't the faintest clue what I'd do without you…"

oOo—

Dumbledore looked haggard and aged with worry. He traipses into the Hog's Head amidst dark clouds and an eerie wind; his long robes flaps as a gust of wind threatens to shove the wizard off his feet. "A firewhiskey, please," he breathes, as the door to the inn shuts close. The bartender turns around to fetch the order.

—oOo

"I thought keeping away from you was going to keep you safe, but… now I realize, we're exposed to danger either way…" Sirius muttered, wrapping his hands protectively around her neck.

oOo—

Dumbledore takes his drink and settles down in one of the tables, looking preoccupied. Heavy winds and rains could be heard lashing against the frail walls. Fear engulfed Harry as he noticed movement outside the inn's window. Behind Dumbledore, through the filth-ridden bay windows, a dark shadow of a person, bent double with age, could be seen coming through.

—oOo

"Baby, I am DONE worrying about you. For the last 9 months, all I've done is think about you, dream about you… By god, I'm done!" he exclaims, shaking his head; a small smile broke on his flawless face. "I don't want to wait until the War is over... Hell, I don't know if we'll even make it out alive!" he whispered, as she drank in his every word, blinking back tears.

"I want this right now. I need you right away, right now. I love you Izzy, and I know I will love you forever… So, Isabella Grace Louisa Williams," he said, taking three steps back and opening his hands slightly open, "I ask you one more time. Will you… Marry me?" he finished.

His emotions seemed to be brimming in his eyes. In that moment, all the Love in the world seemed to have abounded in the space that stretched between Sirius and Isabella.

oOo—

A hooded old witch enters the pub; her cloak was dripping wet. Dumbledore continues to be in a pensive mode. The old witch approaches his table and pushes back the hood to reveal a face so lined and pale, it almost seemed painful to look upon. Her eyes were large and glistening with a pool of water around the corners. Her lips curled in a kind smile as she spots Dumbledore. Dumbledore's sense of clairvoyance made him stand up and turn around just as she neared him; it looked like he had been waiting for her.

—oOo

Isabella clasped her hands to her mouth and stood there transfixed, quite unable to believe this was actually happening. After a moment's time, she giggled and ran straight into his open arms.

oOo—

"Mother Medea," said Dumbledore, taking her frail hand and leading her over to a chair nearby. "What brings you to this part of the world in these grim times?" he asked. Mutely she puts her hand inside her robes and presents Dumbledore with a pearl-white orb, the contents of which appeared to be swirling, as if a prophecy had been made mere minutes ago.

—oOo

She wrapped her hand around his neck and squeals, "YES!"

Overjoyed, Sirius hugs her in earnest and twirls her around, grinning broadly. "Are you serious?!" he yells and kisses her in disbelief.

"Sirius Black, how much more daft can you get?! Of COURSE I'm serious!" she chimes in and the pair break into a nervous, muffled laughter.

oOo—

In that instant, Mother Medea drops the orb from her hand and it shatters against the dilapidated stone floor with a deafening crash. All of a sudden, a white cloud of smoke engulfs the room and a high-pitched, eerie, almost inhuman voice, thunders through the walls of the inn:

"The fabled unison of the cursed pair…
Wedded for life for the seventh time…!
Ripples of Dark do wreak despair…
Seven times doth the clock chime…!

Born of lust, Son of spite, Evil doth rise…
Ally and friend, the Dark Lord He will defy…!
Cursed be their fate, sacrifice be their price…
One last time, the knot He doth tie…!

Four decades hence, the fruits be borne...
The change of Fate with a whip of Time...
Daughter of Love, sacrifice and thorn...
Seven times doth the clock chime..."

—oOo

And, just like that, a dark cloud rose and the memory of Sirius vanished, leaving the three stunned and grounded in utter darkness and deathly silence.

The morning back in The Burrow did not seem so pleasant anymore. The three of them had landed on the dew-laden grass in the backyard feeling a flurry of emotions that was not even remotely comprehendible. Hermione's face was scrunched up in fierce concentration, as if trying to make sense of everything she'd seen and heard in the memory. Ron simply looked flabbergasted like he'd eaten a whole tub of slugs. Harry struggled to deal with the wave of emotions that flooded him. It was all too confusing.

"What in the bloody hell did that all even mean?!" said Ron, finally breaking the other two out of their reverie. "Heck, I didn't even know a prophecy was made before the prophecy about Harry killing Voldemort came about!" he exclaimed.

"Ron! Don't you see? We're clearly missing something!" exclaimed Hermione and then went completely cold and still. Harry thought he heard her mutter something like "finimona admamodor..." under her breath.

"Wait, Hermione," said Harry, a tone of urgency trailed in his voice. "Let's sort the meaning out of what was said. 'The cursed fabled pair' obviously refers to Sirius and Izzy. 'Son of spite, evil rising' all refers to Voldermort. 'Sacrifice be their price' obviously means they were destined to die," Harry spat the last words out miserably and ridden with anger and sorrow. "'Wedded for life for the seventh time'? What, like they're soul mates or something?" asked Harry.

"Harry, there's a myth in the magical world. It's called 'Fenomena Atmamiter' or the 'The Phenomenon of True Love'. It's extremely rare, Harry. The books that I read put the phenomenon from occurring somewhere between one to nil. However, if it does happen, well… all hell breaks loose," she said. Her face had gone white and she looked particularly disconcerted.

She took in a deep breath and continued. "It says if in one life you meet your true love or soul mate, like you call it, and IF, by the work of destiny one of them sacrifices their life for the other, the pair is both rewarded and cursed. The reward is where the two souls are reincarnated seven times and in all of the seven lives, they remain inseparable. The curse, however, is that in their seventh birth, their unison is both short-lived and brings about great mayhem and tragedy to the world around," she said, and looked up at the shocked faces of Harry and Ron.

"It all makes sense now, Harry! The global wizarding war between Dumbeldore and Grindelwald, the First and the Second Wizarding Wars between you and Voldemort, all the lives lost, all the bloodshed… It's all happened for a reason, Harry. The wars and deaths of millions of innocents were all in anticipation of the unison of the 'Fabled Cursed Pair'! Sirius and Izzy were the Cursed Pair," she said.

Harry was dumbfounded. "So… So… What does it all mean?" he spluttered. "Sirius keeps saying there was something I needed to know. What does it mean? That the war isn't over? Hermione…" he said, fear striking his face. He instinctively puts his hand over his scar. "Does it mean…"

Hermione, who looked flustered, shook her head like she was greatly confused. "I don't know, Harry! I mean… They're both dead! Why did we stumble upon this diary NOW? Why did we… Wait," she said and stopped in her tracks.

Ron finished the sentence for her: "Forty years hence! That's it! Blimey Hermione, we're exactly at forty years since the prophecy was made! Oh my god, I'm positively flummoxed right about now!" he exclaimed. "Harry, mate, I think it's time we moved to Japan! I'm all of DONE with England and its stupid wars!"

"Ron! Will you please pull yourself together?!" shot back Hermione.

"You guys, what IS Sirius trying to tell me...?" wondered Harry more to himself. "What am I supposed to do…? Hermione, it doesn't make any sense! All's done and gone. Everything's gone back to what it's supposed to be. Why are we being haunted by the past again…?"