Some may think it's a curse, a doom, a baleful future, that prophecy.
My prophecy.
That Harry Potter has the power to destroy me, and must, lest he be taken instead.
Death has marked both of us and must take one, we choose which.
Many would see this future as a bane, my doom spoken from Fate's mouth, inevitable steel in the malleable fabric of the multiverse.
I have little doubt Potter sees it that way, as does Dumbledore, they wish it was not so and curse Fate for her cruelty.
I did so once.
But now...
Ah, now.
Now I bless the Fate that wove the thread by which my life is bound, I have found true freedom from her words, and laugh at my earlier fears.
It is a matter of perception.
A perception I acquired while mulling over my fate after my rebirth, a simple view, but a clear one, and one which made me laugh like a daemon for not having seen it before.
Perception.
The glass can be either half full or half empty.
Optimism, pessimism
I can charge into the most hopeless of battles knowing I will survive, I can take all manner of risks and know I will live. If I am captured, I know – lest some unlikely situation occurs – I will escape.
You see, Harry Potter has been prophesized to be the one with the power to destroy me.
I may see this as a doom, or I may see this as a freedom to do as I like, as the vast majority of the wizarding race cannot kill me.
Harry Potter is the only one who can kill me.
Ah, perceptions.