Chapter Nineteen: Promises and Death

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter; Rowling lady does. I don't own
Dragon Lance; Weis and Hickman people do. So leave me alone. I do own
some things in this. but I think we all know what I do and don't own
by now. Also if Weis and Hickman would like to give me Raistlin to
own, or Rowling would like to give me Remus and/or Sirius to own I
would be very pleased. well anyway. on with the chapter. I am so proud
though. I mean this is chapter nineteen. My longest fanfiction yet. Oh
yes, and please go read my other stories. I would be very happy for
that.

Harry lay on his bed, the curtains tied back against the bedposts. Ron was sleeping in the girl's dormitory with Hermione and Raven, so he and Draco were alone. The Slytherin boy was fast asleep, his head pillowed against Harry's chest. Even though his lover slept, the black haired Gryffindor couldn't sleep. His scar itched, but he ignored it. He didn't want to think about Lord Voldemort; he was too troubled with thinking about his and Draco's secret to bother. He longed to walk down the halls holding Draco's hand, like they did during the breaks. He longed to be able to grab Draco and pull him into a dark niche for a passionate kiss or two, but they had promised to keep their secret. Harry sighed, and felt the weight of the blonde-haired head lift. "Why are you still awake?" Draco's voice was thick with sleep as he stifled a yawn. "I was just thinking." "About what?" He seemed more awake now after hearing the troubled note in his lover's voice. "Well. about us, Draco." Harry began, but suddenly Draco looked very fearful and sat up to look down at his lover. "You don't mean to end this. us, do you?" He looked so genuinely scared that Harry couldn't help but grin and pull his lover into a long, arduous kiss. "No I mean nothing like it. In fact, I mean the opposite. Draco, haven't we hidden our love long enough?" Draco's eyes widened and he hung his head. He wanted to show everyone their love as much as Harry, but Draco had a father that would kill him over this and he knew that Harry's muggle family wouldn't take him in. "I know what you mean Harry, and I feel the same way, but how can we? You know my father would kill him because of us being together if he found out, and telling the whole school is a sure way of letting him know." Harry nodded, "But what if you could come live with me over the summer? Then you wouldn't have to worry about Lucius." "That muggle family of yours would never take the two of us in for the summer and you know it Harry." "Yeah, they wouldn't, but what if we don't go to live with them? What if we go to live with my godfather, Sirius?" Draco mulled the thought over in his head a moment. "That. would. work." He spoke hesitantly, unwilling to let himself get overly excited about this before he knew more. Harry kissed Draco gently. "Don't think on it any more. I'll talk to Dumbledore and Sirius and try to work it out. I promise we won't have to let anyone know about us before we know if we can stay together with Sirius or not, alright?" Draco smiled at this reassurance and kissed the green-eyed boy beneath him. "Yes that is prefect." The two boys rolled over, kissing each other across the neck, shoulders, and lips. Even as the two boys made love for a second time that night, Lord Voldemort and Lucius lay before a great crackling fire wrapped in a cloak. Lucius was asleep in Voldemort's arms. Carefully, so as not to wake the man, the Dark Lord rose from the floor. Tendrils of blonde hair snaked their way down his white skin to the floor as he stood and wrapped Lucius in his Death Eater's cloak. Wrapping himself in his own black cloak, Voldemort left the room with Lucius being watched over by his pet boa constrictor. In the next room, he met with a four-foot tall, albino, flying squirrel with black teeth. "Starbuck, I want you to go to Hogwarts and fetch me the Defense Against Dark Arts teacher, our dear Raistlin Majere." "Yes, sire." Blacktooth bowed deeply and pulling his hood about his face leapt through the window. Voldemort went back into the room, in which Lucius lay, and sat down beside his most trusted and dearest Death Eater. He reached out his hand and absent-mindedly scratched the blonde man's head, lost in thought. Soon a quietly knock interrupted his thoughts. "Sire?" Came Blacktooth's voice. Voldemort went to the door and opened it. His red eyes were met by the black ones of the squirrel and the golden pools of the man he had sent for. "Thank you, Starbuck. You are dismissed for the moment." Blacktooth bowed and left. "Let us go into another room, Majere." The two men walked silently down the hall to an empty room. Upon entering, Voldemort caused a fire to spring up in the hearth. "It gets so cold around this house." He commented as the two sat in chairs facing each other before the fire. After a moment, Raistlin spoke; his voice hardly above a whisper. "You sent for me, milord?" "Yes," The reply was almost purely a hiss. "Tell me of your world." Voldemort sat back in his chair while Raistlin set some water to boil and made himself a cup of his cough easing tea. Once it was made, he spoke first of the gods of his world, then of the war that had just ended and the history of it. He spoke for a very long time. Several times mild- coughing fits interrupted his monologue, but a sip or two of tea subdued them. Voldemort never once interrupted himself, but sat silently taking all he heard in. He couldn't bore into this man's head to see the truth or lie in his eyes for some reason. "Why are your eyes as they are? Were you born in this state?" "No, this is the price I paid for the magic. I gave up everything for it. Now I look like this and have cursed vision." "How is your vision cursed?" "All I see is death. Everything in my sight ages and dies as I watch." "Even me?" "Even you, milord." Voldemort closed his eyes a moment and thought this over. "How do you see me dying?" "Many ways, many times." Now Voldemort opened his eyes to stare at the golden skinned mage before him. The young man returned his stare, unblinking, undaunted. "Name one way." Raistlin rose as if to make himself another cup of tea, but instead, when his back was turned, readied his spell components. He had taken a long time to prepare this spell. When he turned around again, he threw a handful of rose petals into the air and whispered the spidery words of the language of his world's magic. "Riska petulla ar me karpth." The petals shot through the air with lightning speed and severed Voldemort's head from his shoulders before he could register what was happening to put up a shield spell. "That is one of the ways, I saw you dying, and thus you died." Raistlin whispered. Pain shot through his arm from the Death Eater tattoo there. He reached into a pouch and pulled out some ground gingerroot. Sprinkling this over the tattoo, he whispered several words, and the tattoo vanished as if it had never been. The door was thrown open and Starbuck entered. He had been listening at the door. "Good work." He chuckled. "Mind if I take the head? My mistress sought after it." Raistlin waved for the squirrel to go right ahead and take the accursed thing. He himself took a small pendant from around Voldemort's lifeless throat and left the house. As he slammed the door behind him, Lucius awoke and went seeking after his lord. Raistlin stood at the statue of a Gargoyle in the castle of Hogwarts. "Chocolate covered cockroach clusters." He muttered. The gargoyle leapt aside and he ascended the stairs to the Headmaster's office. Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk speaking with Mad Eye Moody. Raistlin inclined his head slightly to the two men, a classic Snape-like sneer on his lips as he threw a piece of metal on a chain upon the desk. Dumbledore started to reach out to touch it, but halted when he saw the symbol carve upon it, a skull with a serpent coming from its mouth. His eyes, usually glittering with senile-like happiness, were now dark with suspicion and fear. "You have killed him? He is truly dead?" "No one can live without a head, and the spell I used kills the soul as well as body. He is dead." Moody looked Raistlin up and down with both his good and his bad eyes. "The lads a might powerful, now ain't he." He growled. Raistlin's sneer dropped into a scowl. "I am no lad. My body may be young, but my mind is far more ancient than you could imagine." Raistlin's scowl deepened as he turned to Dumbledore. "I'll stay the rest of your school year to clean up the Death Eaters for you, but be warned, I will not now submit to any 'orders' or authoritarian commands from you. I'll leave as soon as I can, but that is not before the Death Eaters are taken care of apparently." The young mage turned on his heel and left with a swirl of his velvet cloak. Albus turned Voldemort's medallion in his hands. "He is a spirited one. I would watch out for him." Moody growled. Dumbledore merely nodded absent-mindedly. "Yes. that he is."

Raistlin entered his own room. Classes would be resuming the next day after Easter break. Krista was curled up in one corner of the couch before the fire, asleep. Raistlin sat down beside her with a cup of his tea. His eyes were transfixed by the crackling fire while he drained the cup. He saw the fire dying down to embers, only to be built back up again to roaring flames. He put the empty cup down and curled up around Krista. His arms encircled her waist and his head rested against hers. This of course woke her up, for she had been waiting for him before falling asleep. "You're back." She smiled slightly, a quiet content smile. "Hmmm." He moaned into her hair an infrequent smile on his golden lips. They lay in each other's arms a moment before Raistlin whispered in Krista's ear. "Promise me something, dearling." "Anything." "Promise me we'll always be together." Krista's eyes softened as she smiled. "I promise, my dear Raistlin." Both of them, assured by the promise, fell asleep to the crackling of the fire and the beginnings of a light pattering rain upon the windows.