A/N: The chapter is not near as long as I was planning on, but I reached a point where I thought Harry had had enough.
Thanks for the reviews! Check http/hannibalbarca. for review responses.
Chapter 18: The Prophecy
"Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter!" came the stern voice of Professor McGonagall. "Wake up!"
"Whatstheproblem?" came Ron's voice.
"Huh?" came two muffled voices from behind Harry's curtains.
McGonagall quickly drew the curtains around Harry's bed apart, "I see. I will discuss this with you later," her voice carrying a slightly disapproving tone, " I need all of you to report to the Headmaster's office immediately."
"What's wrong?" Ron asked sleep still evident in his voice.
"Not here. You must go the Headmaster's office! Come!" McGonagall ordered; her traditionally stern tone was there, but it was laced with a tone Harry did not recognize. No one dared to argue. Ron only paused to throw a disgruntled look at Harry and Ginny before, he too, followed McGonagall out the door.
The twins were waiting for them in the common room and joined the rear of the procession headed to Dumbledore's office.
Something has happened…Ginny sent, her worry rising. Harry tried to reassure her through their bond, but his own concern was rising as he wondered why all the Weasleys were being gathered.
Dumbledore nodded solemnly as they entered. "Here put a finger on this," Dumbledore said preventing any questions. The object was an old, battered looking kettle. The Weasleys and Harry reached their hands toward the kettle.
Panic filled Harry as he felt the pull of a portkey. The last time he had touched a portkey he had ended up in a cemetery filled with Death Eaters. He closed his eyes tight.
No Death Eaters here, assured Ginny, But Sirius is.
Harry's eyes flew open. Sirius was indeed standing before them. He had a disheveled look about him, as if he had been wearing the same cloths for several days and, by the smell, he had also been consuming alcohol.
When Sirius spoke though, there was no trace of alcohol, "Everyone here? Good. Take a seat," he waved his hands at the armchairs and couches in the sitting room. The Weasleys looked like they were about to demand answers, but Sirius held up his hands, "Sit and take a butterbeer," one of the end tables had six butterbeer bottles on it, "and I will tell you everything I know."
"First, I don't know much – I was just sent word to be expecting you and told that Arthur, your father, was attacked," Sirius' face displayed great concern and sadness. Harry had a horrible realization.
Voldemort – something happened and your dad got in the way…that's why he was so angry. I could have…oh, Merlin, Ginny, I'm so sorry.
Ginny only squeezed his hand, but he got the message: Knock it off.
"How is he?" ask a subdued George.
"I don't know," stated Sirius flatly. "I was told very little. All I know is that he's been taken to St. Mungo's and that your mum is with him."
"Then we can go!" said Fred.
"No! There is more at stake here than your father," Sirius said painfully throwing his hands in the air.
The twins looked mutinous and had stood to confront Sirius again, but were cut off by Ron, "What happened, though?"
"From what little I was told," there was a note of bitterness in Sirius' voice, "he was attacked by some kind of creature. If Tonks hadn't of been there…" Sirius sighed heavily and took a swig of his butterbeer, "I think the bite was poisonous."
"Why can't we go?" demanded Fred for the second time.
"Wait for your mum to get back – it's bad enough that he was hurt and we don't want to draw too much attention to it and a troop of Weasleys in St. Mungo's certainly draws attention," Fred and George did not look like they were convinced. "Look, your father was on Order business. He was not supposed to be where he was – we were lucky that Tonks knew who to contact, otherwise he may have ended up like Sturgis." Sirius shivered visibly at the thought of Azkaban, "Just wait until your mum comes back – if we can keep this quiet until the Minister goes on holiday then it will be okay."
The twins scowled but retreated to their chairs where they nursed their butterbeers. Ron huffed at the mention of Fudge and stretched out on one of the couches.
Harry sank into one of the chairs near the fire and wordlessly opened his arms to Ginny, who curled up against him all the while staring into the fire. Sirius gave Harry a look over Ginny's head that clearly conveyed that he did not know what do to. Harry smiled meekly at him, trying to say he was doing alright.
Eventually, almost everyone fell into a stupor – not quite sleeping, but not awake either. Harry was absently running his fingers through Ginny's hair. He knew she found it relaxing. The fact that she was asleep did not bother him – he also found the repetitive motion relaxing and strangely comforting. The loud creaking of the front door as it opened brought everyone back to full consciousness. The Weasleys shared a brief look before they scambled toward the foyer.
Harry and Sirius stood and slowly followed the redheads, but evidently Mrs. Weasley's entrance had awakened Mrs. Black's portrait. The old crone started screaming her usual obscenities. Harry's nerves were already on edge due to Ginny's worry and fear for her father.
He twirled around, with his hand extended, and said, "Not now you old Hag!" As he said the last word his hand grew warm and what could only be described as a fireball whirled directly at the now terrified painting. Its impact caused the painting to erupt into flames and, after a few seconds of brilliant flames, the only remnant of the painting was a large, black scorch mark on the wall.
"Was that a blasting hex?" asked a rapidly blinking Sirius.
Harry looked at the wall; then at his hand, "I think so."
"That's...that's amazing," concluded Sirius. "How do you feel?" Sirius seemed to be coming back to himself and was examining Harry carefully.
The shock of doing wandless magic was fading and with it came the aftereffects, "I feel tired and a little stiff," Harry said stretching.
Sirius nodded, "Yes, I'm surprised you're not flat on your face." Noise from the foyer distracted them and Sirius gave Harry another look, "We'll have to tell Dumbledore about his, but it can wait. Come on."
A frazzled and exhausted looking Mrs. Weasley was surrounded by five of her children.
"Mum! How..."
"Is he alright?"
"What happened?"
"When can we..." the questions were fired off altogether making it impossible to figure out who was asking what.
"HUSH!" yelled Mrs. Weasley. She examined her worried children and then gave each of them a bone-crushing hug. "He...he's alive and they're taking could care of him. We'll all go tomorrow during visiting hours." She gave them a piercing look, "Now I want all of you in bed. You are not seeing your father like this. Look at yourselves, you look awful. He would worry himself sick. No, he doesn't need that. Are you hungry?" said Mrs. Weasley, forgetting that she had told them to go to bed.
"Muuum," whined one of the twins.
"Of course you're hungry! Follow me," she half-dragged, half-led them into the kitchen.
Harry watched amazed as Mrs. Weasley sniffled her way through making a mixture of breakfast and dinner. Truth-be-told he was not sure what time it was. He rose to help her, but Ginny stopped him.
Don't – it's just what mum does when she's upset. She cooks. He gave her a questioning look and she nodded her head toward the seat nearest her.
Sitting down in the indicated seat, Harry took Ginny's right hand in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze. He was not sure how best to comfort her – he wanted desperately to relieve Ginny of the intense worry and fear coming through their bond.
Sirius, however, did not have anyone to tell him not to try and help. He was on the other side of the table and beyond Harry's reach to stop him.
"Molly, why don't you let me?" he said trying to take over the frying pan. He barely jumped back in time to avoid being hit with the same pan as Mrs. Weasley whirled.
"I CAN TAKE CARE OF MY FAMILY JUST FINE!" she yelled as tears began falling. She turned back to the stove and moved the scrambled eggs around. "I'm sorry for snapping. Oh Sirius, it's just..." she sniffed and began piling the meal onto plates.
Sirius placed his hands on her shoulders, "I know and it's all right. Let's feed the kids." The goal of taking care of her children was probably the only thing that allowed Molly Weasley to regain her composure. Everyone ate slowly, even Ron, and in silence.
Even after the meal was finished, no one was brave enough to break the silence. The twins shifted uncomfortably in their chairs, Ron was staring at his empty plate and moving his fork around, and Sirius had taken it upon himself to collect the dishes. Harry could not help but be impressed by Ginny's bravery, "Mum? How is he?"
Mrs. Weasley met her daughter's gaze sadly, "He's lost a lot of blood and they're having trouble closing the wound, but don't worry – they say he'll be fine. They just have to figure out what poison and then he'll be back here in no time." She took a deep breath, "Now, I want all of you to go to bed." No one moved. "NOW!" Even Sirius pushed back from the table.
Harry made to follow Ron into the bedroom, but he was stopped by Ginny's hand on his elbow. Stay with me tonight. He nodded and pulled the door closed as he followed Ginny to her room. Ron either did not notice or did not care.
Harry reclined back on the bed and waited for Ginny. She slipped under the covers and maneuvered closer to Harry so that one of her arms snaked around him and her head could use his chest as a pillow. Harry put his own arm around her and began stroking her hair, desperately hoping that Mr. Weasley was going to be alright.
Harry woke to the sounds of clinking pots and pans. Ginny's only response to the muffled noise was to cuddle closer to Harry. Sighing, Harry knew they needed to get up. He did not want to test Mrs. Weasley's patience. "Ginny," he whispered vocally and mentally.
'm sleep'n...came the slightly disgruntled voice of Ginny in his head.
Harry grinned and gently maneuvered her onto a pillow rather than his chest so that he could lean down and give her a kiss. Ginny's lips formed a grin.
"That's not fair," she said as she opened her eyes.
Harry's grin grew broader, "Maybe not, but your mum is up and we'll probably be leaving soon." Ginny quickly rolled out of bad and threw on her robe.
"What are you waiting for? Let's go!" she called to him as she quickly made her way downstairs, eager to see her father. Harry soon followed.
Almost an hour later, they were standing outside of what looked like a closed department store, but was really the entrance to St. Mungo's. Mad-Eye Moody, Hestia Jones, and Dedalus Diggle stood around them, shielding them from prying eyes and possible threats.
Their three minders quickly pushed them through the waiting room and up to the proper floor where they stopped allowing the Weasley's to proceed alone into the room. Harry stopped at the door, not wanting to intrude on the family moment. Ginny, however, refused to release his hand.
Both beds in the room were occupied. In the closest bed was Mr. Weasley, smiling brightly at them from behind his Daily Prophet. In the far bed was a woman with bubblegum-pink hair with a heavily bandaged foot. Tonks waved at them and then turned back to talk to her visitor, Remus Lupin, who gave them a small wave.
The Weasley's formed a tight circle around Mr. Weasley, "How are you feeling today?" asked Molly anxiously.
Mr. Weasley's smile did not falter and he put the Daily Prophet aside, "I'm great! You just missed Bill though." He gave Ginny a hug.
Mrs. Weasley did not look convinced, "You still look a bit peaky." Mr. Weasley shrugged.
"Nonsense, it's just the hospital food. They would send me and Tonks home, if we didn't start bleeding the moment the bandages are removed," Mr. Weasley assured her.
Fred moved closer to the bed and asked, "So are you going to tell us what happened, Dad?"
"Well, um, it's rather simple – I had a long day at worked, dozed off where I should not have, and got bitten," he said.
Fred picked up the newspaper and flipped through it, "I don't see it in here."
"Of course not," replied Mr. Weasley. "The Ministry doesn't want everyone to know that a dirty great serpent got..."
"ARTHUR!" Mrs. Weasley's tone held more than warning and Mr. Weasley glanced at her before continuing.
"Well, got me," he finished weakly.
"You were guarding it, weren't you?" there was only a hint of question in Ginny's voice. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked at their daughter in shock and the twins with a great deal of curiosity.
"Ginevra!" was all Mrs. Weasley managed to get out before a soft knock at the door attracted their attention.
Professor Dumbledore was standing in the door way, "I came by to see how you are doing Arthur."
"Come in, come in," called a happy Mr. Weasley.
Mrs. Weasley turned to her children, "Everyone out, let's give them some space." She shooed all of them out of the room, closed it, and then the click of the lock could be heard.
George turned toward his brother, "Do you think she put an Imperturbable Charm on it?"
"One way to find out," answered Fred, pulling out several flesh colored strings. The door provided no resistance, "Want to listen?" asked Fred as he handed out the ends.
"Why don't you start at the beginning," came Dumbledore's voice.
"I'm not sure what time it was – I fell asleep," Mr. Weasley's guilty voice said. "The cloak must have slipped or the snake smelled me. I think I was bitten twice before Tonks came in."
"I was at the other door," supplied Tonks. "I don't know how it got in, but it did not go by me. The only reason I knew something was wrong was because Arthur screamed." Tonks' voice dipped lower, "I tripped over it." A snicker was heard, but evidently Tonks chose to ignore it, "The thing then turned on me. I gave it a kick and tried to stun it, but the spell didn't penetrate the hide. I did not even notice my foot until I had gotten Arthur out – I guess I must have caught one of its fangs when I kicked it."
"You did well. I daresay, Arthur owes his life to you," said Dumbledore.
"We were lucky," interrupted Mr. Weasley. "If you had not doubled the guard..." the sentence hung unfinished.
Dumbledore was the first to break the resulting silence, "Perhaps we should invite the children back in Molly."
You think he knows? asked Harry, still listening intently. Ginny shrugged.
"No! They're too young, Albus," said Mrs. Weasley. As one, the Weasley children and Harry rolled their eyes.
"It might be better for them to hear things directly, rather than through other means," said Lupin, speaking for the first time.
"You don't think they would..." footsteps followed Mrs. Weasley's unfinished statement. The twins quickly reeled in the extendable ears. They were safely hidden deep inside Fred's pockets when Mrs. Weasley opened the door. "Oh dears, you don't have to wait out here – I'm sure there's some biscuits and tea nearby. Mrs. Weasley frowned as the children left without protest.
Albus Dumbledore walked into the lounge thirty minutes later, "You may go back in." Dropping their biscuits and setting their teas down, they made for Mr. Weasley's room. "Harry, I need to talk to you," Dumbledore said so low that they others could not hear it. Ginny looked back and Harry made a motion for her to go on. He knew she wanted to see her dad again.
"Harry," said Dumbledore again, "I have some business at the Ministry, would you like to accompany me?" Harry nodded and his breath hitched as he realized that Dumbledore was taking him to see the prophecy.
When the entered St. Mungo's lobby, Dumbledore turned to Harry, "Take my arm and hold on tight." Harry signaled his readiness. Dumbledore Apparated.
Flaming is so much better, mused Harry as he tried not to stumble or throw-up. Dumbledore put a steadying hand on Harry's shoulder and guided him to a man sitting behind a desk.
"Hello, Eric, how are you doing?" asked Dumbledore.
The younger gentleman smiled, "Can't complain, can't complain. Almost quitin' time."
Dumbledore nodded, handing him his wand, while motioning for Harry to do the same. "Yes, good to hear. How's Elizabeth?"
Eric did not look at the printout provided for the wands, "Oh she's good. We're expectin' soon ya know?"
"That's excellent news! May the child be blessed with good fortune," responded Dumbledore taking the wands and handing Harry his.
"Well, have a nice day Headmaster," Eric said returning to his Prophet.
After the gilded doors of the elevator closed, Harry asked Dumbledore, "Why are we here now?" He could not figure out why Dumbledore had chosen this particular time. It seemed bad to him with Mr. Weasley in the hospital.
"The Minister and most of his staff are off today. Many others are as well since they will be picking their children up from King's Cross. Today is perfect for coming to the Ministry if you want minimal fuss," said Dumbledore with twinkling eyes.
They kept descending until the elevator reached the bottommost floor. "We have to walk from here." Harry followed Dumbledore down some stairs before coming to a door. To the left of the door was a wizard in a hooded cloak, pulled down so that his face was obscured.
"Dumbledore," the hooded wizard said in greeting. He may have also shot Harry a curious look from under the hood as well, but it was impossible to tell. "Follow me." Harry shot Dumbledore a questioning glance, wondering if he should go first or follow Dumbledore. Dumbledore placed a hand on his back and gently pressed him forward. As the hooded man led them down a series of corridors, Harry realized that he had seen at least one of the corridors before – in his dreams. He wanted to ask Dumbledore about how Voldemort could possibly know what the corridor looked like, but bit his tongue knowing that his was not the place.
The wizard led them confidently through a circular room and then through another door. The room was lined with rows and rows of shelves—all of them bearing small glass balls. "Here we are, ninety-seven. I will be waiting for you outside," informed the hooded man.
Dumbledore waited until they heard the faraway door open and close. "Do you see it, Harry?" Harry scanned the shelves and stopped as he came to one that had his name on it.
S.P.T. To A.P.W.B.D.
Dark Lord
and (?) Harry Potter
"Only you and Voldemort can remove it from the shelf," said Dumbledore. "Take it." Dumbledore then waved his wand intricately. Seeing Harry's puzzled face, he explained, "A type of Silencing Charm."
Harry reached out his hand, but he was so nervous it was shaking uncontrollably. He clenched it into a fist and then opened his hand again; it had ceased shaking. There was a thin film of dust on the ball. Harry lifted the glass ball; it was heavier than he expected it to be and seemed to pulse with an inner warmth.
"Do you wish me to leave?" asked Dumbledore.
Harry flinched slightly. He had forgotten Dumbledore was still there. "No, stay," he did not want to be alone and it was not like Dumbledore had not already heard it. "How do I..."
"Just rub it three times and then hold it in the palm of your hand," answered Dumbledore.
Despite the seriousness of the situation Harry felt the urge to laugh. It reminded him of rubbing a lamp three times to awaken the genie inside. Following Dumbledore's instructions, Harry rubbed the ball three times and then held it out in the palm of his hand. At first nothing happened and then the ball grew warmer and an image projected out of it. It reminded Harry of a muggle movie projector. Before him now stood the familiar form of Sybill Trelawney.
"THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES. . . .BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES. . . .AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT. . . .TWICE BOUND HE WILL BE THE CURSE OF THE DARK LORD. . . .SO LONG AS BOTH LIVE THE ALBATROSS OF FATE REMAINS UNPAID. . . .THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES"
Harry frowned. He had expected the prophecy to make things clear, not to make it even more muddled.
Ginny? She was no more enlightened than he was.
"What does it mean?" asked Harry. Half of him wanted Dumbledore to explain it, but the other half wanted the old wizard to say that prophecy and seers were nonsense.
"Here is not the place. Put it back on the self."
"Why? If Voldemort's after it, why not take it with us?"
"It would only cause greater harm. The Unspeakable who led us here would be punished severely and I believe, without the prophecy to hold his attention, Voldemort would begin open war against us and," a barely noticeable note of disdain entered Dumbledore's voice, "thanks to Fudge, the wizarding world is unprepared for that. Come, we must leave."
With a feeling of dread, Harry reluctantly replaced the glass ball. Dumbledore led him to the door where the Unspeakable met them and guided them the rest of the way out of the Department of Mysteries. They made their way to the Atrium in silence.
"Grab hold, Harry," said Dumbledore extending his arm.
Just as Harry moved to take the proffered arm, another voice cut through the nearly empty Atrium, "Professor Dumbledore! Professor Dumbledore!"
Percy Weasley was rushing toward them. "Professor Dumbledore! I'm glad I caught you. I have a letter for Mr. Potter; if you would be so kind as to see it is delivered," he said handing Dumbledore an envelope. Except for briefly cutting his eyes to him, Percy ignored Harry completely.
Arrogant git, thought Ginny. Harry agreed as he watched Percy turn on his heel immediately after Dumbledore took the letter. He did not even wait for an acknowledgment.
"Hold on," Harry looked away from the retreating Percy and tightly grabbed Dumbledore's arm. There was again the feeling of folding in on yourself and then an audible "pop" as they Disapparated.
Dumbledore led him into the sitting room of Grimmauld Place. The professor was about to sit down when he froze, "What happened to Mrs. Black's portrait?"
Harry blushed, whether out of embarrassment or pride he was not sure, "Er...I sort of did wandless magic."
Dumbledore sat in the chair and then looked at Harry with raised eyebrows. "You constantly impress me. A blasting hex, by the looks of it," said Dumbledore examining the scorch mark. "How did you feel afterwards?"
"A little tired and stiff," answered Harry.
"And now?" pressed Dumbledore.
"It was yesterday," replied Harry dismissing the effects.
"Are you saying you are not stiff or sore at all?" Harry shook his head. Dumbledore nodded and the twinkle in his eyes seemed to grow brighter, "May I inquire as to why you did wandless magic?"
Harry shrugged, "I'm not sure. I was pretty tense at the time – Ginny was worried about Mr. Weasley and..."
"You did not want Mrs. Black upsetting her?" probed Dumbledore. It was not really a question and Harry did not answer; they both knew it was true.
"Eventually, you and Ginny will learn how to harness your powers in situations other than those that evoke strong emotions." Dumbledore sighed, "But back to the issue at hand." Harry felt Ginny turn her attention to the conversation.
"I thought it would make things clear," Harry said dejectedly.
Dumbledore chuckled, "Prophecy rarely does that and this one...this one certainly does not."
"What does it mean?" asked Harry.
"I fear we won't know that until it is fulfilled," responded Dumbledore. Harry frowned. Surely Dumbledore knew more than that. "I can only guess," Harry nodded his understanding. "Let's start with what we do know. A boy would be born as the seventh month dies who would have the power to defeat the Dark Lord. We know this is you Harry, although at the time it could have been another."
Harry felt annoyance rise in him. Dumbledore was not telling him anything more than he already knew. A question formed in his mind, "Who?"
Dumbledore smiled sadly, "Neville Longbottom."
"Neville?" Harry liked Neville, but he could never imagine him facing and defeating Lord Voldemort.
"Yes, but Voldemort marked you," Dumbledore pointed toward Harry's lightening bolt scar. "The rest of the prophecy, however, is less clear. 'Twice bound,' may refer to your bond to Ginny and to Voldemort." Dumbledore allowed a small smile to cross his face, "And you have definitely been a thorn in his side – so defining you as a curse would be appropriate. However, the next line is a bit confusing. I believe it means that either you or Voldemort must die. 'The Albatross of Fate' is a reference to something almost as rare as Horcruxes." Dumbledore ignored Harry's confused look, "It is something rarely invoked and even more rarely survivable."
"What is it?" Harry asked. He had the distinct feeling Dumbledore was leading him somewhere.
"Albatross is another word for debt. Indeed, I believe the prophecy is referencing a ritual known as the Debt of Fate. It is rarely invoked and none who have invoked it have survived," Dumbledore peered directly into Harry's eyes. "Harry, have you ever heard of something like this?"
Harry shifted. Only one thing even remotely sounded like the "Debt of Fate" Dumbledore spoke of. The words in the letter rung in his mind, "Fate owed me one." He was reluctant to tell Dumbledore about the letter though; only Ginny knew about it.
Dumbledore did not seemed perturbed by Harry's silence, "It is an extremely dangerous ritual, with only one result: death. The purpose is to send a message into the past."
"A message?" Harry asked, his suspicion solidifying.
"Yes, a message. Some have tried sending back books or letters that are thick enough to be books," Dumbledore smiled. "We know that those attempts failed – they died leaving behind their messages. Others have tried to send back smaller, much smaller messages. As far as we know all of these attempts have failed as well. Indeed, only one attempt is to believed to have worked."
"Only one?" prodded Harry.
He's winding you up, sent Ginny.
"It's believed Merlin succeeded. In some of his writing he makes vague hints about a message. Do you have anything to tell me, Harry?" asked Dumbledore. Harry squirmed.
He can't know! Harry was flabbergasted.
But he suspects, added Ginny. You have to tell him. It's part of the prophecy.
Harry sighed, "I received a letter."
"A letter? What did it say?" questioned Dumbledore.
"GettoknowGinnyWeasley," Harry said quickly.
Dumbledore was not fazed by the rapid words. His twinkling eyes grew brighter. "Ingenious!"
"What?"
"Ingenious. So simple. Like dropping a pebble into a lake," Dumbledore continued almost to himself. "I wonder if you meant to do it."
"What?" Harry's confusion was only increasing.
"This does explain much," mused Dumbledore. Harry was starting to get annoyed. "When you sent the letter, you were already bonded! Yes, that would make sense," Dumbledore continued his musings.
If Harry was getting annoyed, Ginny had already bypassed annoyed and moved to irritated.
Will he just explain? Oh, he's lucky I'm not there or I'd hex him on principle.
Dumbledore seemed to notice Harry's consternated expression though, "My apologies, it is truly amazing though. I have been wondering how you and Ginny bonded ever since I found out. It should have been impossible. A soul bonding takes time – the souls have to become, for lack of a better term, acquainted with each other, but if you meddled with time by sending back a letter...a soul bond would not care about time or your age, but reestablish itself at the earliest possible opportunity."
Harry stared at Dumbledore as the professor leaned back, lost in his own thoughts, before seeming to come to a decision. "The prophecy changed." Harry felt a chill run down his spine. "By sending that letter, whether intentional or not, you have changed Fate. Let us hope that the 'Albatross of Fate' remaining unpaid is referencing Fate's debt to you and not your debt to Fate."
"Why?"
"Because the Prophecy can be interpreted differently with this knowledge. Twice bound you are – think not only with Ginny and Voldemort, but bound to Ginny twice. Once in the future and now in the past. Now consider the next line," Dumbledore started, but Harry had already moved onto it.
"It means Ginny has to die?" It felt like a vice was clenching his heart.
Dumbledore's bushy eyebrow's moved together, "Or you. We know very little about the cost of the ritual you performed. It cost's the wizard's life to invoke it; you may not be able to live beyond the time when you cast the spell."
"Why..." The question died on Harry's tongue. It did not seem important why he would ever cast such a spell. The thought of losing Ginny was overwhelming. His feelings were combining with Ginny, who was contemplating life without Harry.
"Why would you perform such a spell?" asked Dumbledore. "Can you think of no reason? I think the answer lies in the message."
Harry looked up, unshed tears in his eyes as he considered, for the first time, why he would send that particular message, "Ginny...I wanted more time."
Dumbledore gave him a small smile, "I daresay you succeeded beyond what you thought possible at the time." Harry looked up questioningly, "You probably did not know that soul bond would assert itself like it did. Consider what your life would have been like had you not bonded with Ginny on the platform." Harry shivered at the thought.
Harry collected himself and suppressed the urge to transform and flame to Ginny, "Which do you think is the correct interpretation?"
"You ask for dangerous advice, Harry. Interpreting prophecy is tricky enough without choosing between competing interpretations, but, personally, I believe it is the first is most likely. It all depends on how much Fate owed you I suppose."