Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, Raistlin Majere belongs to Margaret Weis, and my soul belongs to Cthulhu. Ia fhtagn!

Chapter 8: The Resolution

Two centaurs stood in a clearing, looking down at the body of a small child. The sun had risen high and bright above them, and the snowy ground shone with the fire of a thousand diamonds.

"He will soon be dead." One of them said, with slow deliberation.

"What do I care for the life of a viper?" the other replied, his swarthy face creased with a sneer of disdain.

There was a pause, the two centaurs standing in silent consideration.

"She wouldn't like it." the first said

"Then she would not have left him to the cold. He made his choice; let us abide by it."

"Perhaps she knew that we would be here. Perhaps she meant for us to help."

"And perhaps your waxen heart will melt in the sun. You do not cosset such a creature, you stamp it out. He has no part to play here."

Another pause. They contemplated the still, small form in front of them.

At length, the first spoke again. "Destiny hangs heavy upon him."

"His fate is not writ large," the other replied, "the stars know him not. What destiny can hang on such a one? His presence can only bring disruption, chaos." The dark-haired centaur shivered, and gestured at the clear blue sky, "Please Firenze, see what madness your compassion may bring! You, more than anyone, should know the danger."

"No. I know what has been, but what is to come is not yet fixed. If there is even the slightest chance to right the great wrong, it is worth any risk."

"From your mouth to Acheron's. I will have no part in this. And when I speak of this to the others, you will have cause to regret your folly... As, I fear, will we all."

With this, the dark-haired centaur turned and walked off into the forest. The other raised his hands above the small, still form half buried in the snow in front of him, and began to chant.

oOoOoOo

Raistlin awoke, his muscles cramped with cold, filled with a sense of loss – as if something incredibly important had happened, if he could only just remember it, but even as his eyes opened the feeling faded. Above him, the sun blazed like a vengeful god, filling the world with a cold and crystal clarity. Around him, the snow shone, undisturbed.

With effort, Raistlin pulled himself to his feet. For a moment, as he looked out at the expanse of clean, unbroken white, he remembered the last time he had walked across an unbroken field of snow. Raistlin's childhood has not been a happy one, and he had few pleasant memories from that time, but this was one he treasured. I, Magus he thought to himself, and smiled.

Then he turned towards the school, and trudged wearily back. He could feel new power burning in his blood, magical energy that was his by rights, and that somehow had been denied him. He raised his hand, allowing a trail of sparks to leap between his fingers.

I would give my life for my magic, Raistlin thought, revelling in the flow of power, and yet aware that the power he now commanded was still slight – although the ritual he had used had returned whatever power had been stolen from him, still, it was no more then the usual amount for a child his age, and still far less than he was used to.

As he came in sight of the castle, his smile turned from reflective, to predatory, and then faded altogether into a blank mask. One day, fat innkeepers will bow to me. Raistlin recalled the oath he made long ago, to his mentor Antimodes, and in his heart he swore it anew. One day, all of your magic, your power, will be mine...

oOoOoOo

Raistlin was bored. With the return of his stolen power, the simple spells practiced in class were no longer challenging him. In the few weeks that had passed since christmas, he had worked through all of the first year textbooks, and mastered every spell they described. He had always been interested in herblore, and even the most complicated first year potion was no more challenging than memorising the simplest of spells on krynn. In fact, the only class of which he was not the undisputed academic leader was broomstick riding, which he saw no value in pursuing anyway, and thus it was a rare flying lesson that he even attended.

The idea of studying ahead, learning the spells of later years in advance, had naturally occurred to him. He had even gone so far as to acquire copies of several higher level books. Still, something held him back from pursuing them. Somehow it seemed too basic, too ordinary. After all, if he did the same things that everyone else was doing, the best he could hope was to become what everyone else was becoming. To Raistlin, even the idea was unthinkable.

And so it was, he took to wandering the halls late at night, wrapped in his invisibility cloak, twisting his mind in knots over his future. "I have never been ordinary", he had bragged to his sister, as they plotted to overthrow an emperor. And now look at me, doing children's tricks. Is this all that I am? Is this what it has come to? That I should be... ordinary? Raistlin shuddered, the thought sending a chill of horror down his spine. No! I will not! I have mastered the dragon orb, I have travelled through time, I have defeated a goddess! I WILL be more!

At the back of his, a quite voice whispered to him, relax, give up, let it go... you could be happy here... you could find peace...give up your dreams of power...there is no history here... no prophecy... no fate... you could find peace... find hope... find love... you could be as other men...

"But I am not as other men!" Raistlin cried, slamming his fists against the wall. Startled by the boyish sound of his voice, he was brought back abruptly to himself. Looking around, Raistlin realized he had wandered deep into the depths of hogwarts, far further then his nightly walks usually took him. The corridors of the castle stretched on, a seemingly infinite maze, constantly shifting and changing. He knew the castle contained many secrets; he had already found a number of them, mostly hidden rooms and passages.

Ahead of him, he saw a glimmer of light through the narrow crack of a barely opened door. At once putting aside his troubling thoughts, Raistlin went to investigate – drawn by mystery like a moth to the flame. Slowly, feeling his way with all his senses, he softly slid the door open and entered the room.

It was a large, bare stone chamber, no different than a hundred others he had seen, the thick dust on the floor showing it had been long since it had seen use. Propped against one of the walls, at just the right angle to reflect the rooms feeble torchlight into the corridor, there was a mirror. Large, easily the size of a man, it's frame showing the soft yellow glint of gold.

Raistlin approached it slowly, cautiously. It did not do to be too hasty dealing with any artifact, and judging by the lack of dust on the mirror, and the lack of footprints in the dust on the floor, that is what this must surely be. There was an inscription on the frame.

Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi

Well, that's easy enough. Raistlin grunted to himself; a child should be able to figure that out. "I show not your face but your hearts desire" he whispered aloud. Which implied the mirror would be safe to examine more closely. He didn't sense any traps about it, so its power must be contained, and Raistlin could not imagine any way that seeing his hearts desire could harm him.

Hmm, I wonder what it is I truly desire, Raistlin pondered, What is it that I truly want? That's easy, freedom – to escape the surly bonds of earth, to fly free, unconstrained, my power unlimited, unbound... Perhaps what it has to show me will help, provide the key to break the trap of lethargy I seem to have fallen into.

Setting himself, prepared for anything, Raistlin walked around in front of the mirror, and stared.

At first he wasn't sure what he was seeing. A room, walls and floor of polished wood, lovingly constructed. A window, through which the branches of a vallenwood swayed, and in front of him, a man. A man so familiar, it felt like looking in mirror, save that his hair bore not a touch of white, and his eyes and his skin were normal. He wore a simple tunic, with a leather vest. At his waist there was a scrollcase in place of a sword, and on his face a smile of contentment. Beside the man, pressed close against him, there stood a woman. A woman with pale skin, as smooth as marble, and long dark hair, who gazed at the man with such a look of adoration as Raistlin had never seen before, at least not until he looked back at the man, who was now turning that same look of open love on the woman at his side. Suddenly a small child rushed into the picture, and was gathered up into the arms of the couple. A perfect, happy family.

Raistlin stared, his mind blank, unable to grasp what he was seeing. Then, slowly, understanding crept up on him, and with it came anger. "No", Raistlin whispered to himself, softly. Then, again, as if the sound of his voice had strengthened him.

"No! This is not- cannot- I won't-" Raistlin strode forward, his rage building with each step he took, until he stood in front of the mirror, fairly quivering with rage, face to face with his duplicate, staring at a future that, now, could never come to be. A future Raistlin knew could not be his hearts desire; had he not fought against this fate, with every breath in his body? Had he not sacrificed everything, his health, his life, even his soul, to avoid just such a future?

His fury cresting, Raistlin lost himself in his rage; his eyes blurring with unspent tears, he felt something tear loose within him, and he beat his hands helplessly against the glass, while his childish voice screamed out denials until, at length, he collapsed into exhaustion, his fists bruised and his energy spent.

oOoOoOo

Dumbledore had never seen anything like it. He had been following the boy's nocturnal strolls for the last few days, and had taken great care to subtly direct his footsteps tonight, to bring him here, to this room. Dumbledore had followed, invisible, undetectable, as Raistlin entered. He had watched, silent, as Raistlin studied the mirror. He had waited, patient, as Raistlin faced it and stood frozen, prepared for him to become enthralled. He had not expected this. Never before had Dumbledore seen someone react so harshly to the mirror. It shows your hearts desire! How could anyone be anything but delighted? No, there was something odd here.

Unless... What if his hearts desire had been something so terrible, his conscious mind could not stand to face it? Neither can live while the other survives... The line from the prophecy ran through his head. What if this was Fate taking a hand, and showing him not what he most desired now, but what he would, one day, come to most desire – the end of Tom Riddle? Yes, surely that was it. A young boy could easily react that way to the idea of having to kill someone, even someone as evil as Lord Voldemort.

Dumbledore would have to see that he was properly prepared, properly guided. After all, the last thing the wizarding world needed was a saviour unwilling to do what needed to be done. Or, worse, a saviour turning to the Dark because of it. No, Dumbledore would not let that happen. The boy clearly has power, after all; the power that "the dark lord knows not". He will have to be properly... steered... into using that power appropriately. After all, power corrupts, everyone knows that. And after defeating Voldemort, well... the wizarding world already has me, Dumbledore thought, what do they need with another saviour? Better dead then dark, really. I'm sure he'd thank me if he knew.

On that comforting thought, Dumbledore stood and drifted silently from the room, leaving the exhausted boy to sob himself to sleep on the dusty stone floor.

OooOoOo

A/N: OMG, so much to say here! Don't want to write a big note though, so I will skip to the part you care about... I will continue to update this story, but I'm not going to promise weekly; whenever I get around to it. Big thanks to everyone who kept favoriting following and reviewing, even though I'm super late... kept me motivated to come back and get the story finished! I am so sick of great stories that get abandoned, I promise I won't do that here, not if I can help it!