Mr. Brightside: A Harry Potter Fanfiction
Disclaimer: I, very obviously, am not the creator of 'Harry Potter', nor anything pertaining to the franchise. If I was…
The Lord Voldemort stood in the centre of the circle, pacing about and preaching to the those who had survived so far. Death Eaters stood loyally behind him and, whether out of fear or a sense of admiration, prepared to launch an attack the moment their Master told them to.
On the opposite side of the courtyard, those who stood valiantly for the good of the world waited with baited breath for their hero to arrive. The Light Side, having suffered more casualties than that of the Dark, were hopeful, but that hope was dwindling with each second that passed them by.
"Where is your so called 'hero'? Where is Harry Potter?!" Voldemort questioned, his sermon seeming to drag the life out of the students. "Where is the Boy-Who-Lived?" Not a word answered him back, though. The snake-like man searched the crowd, his eyes lingering on the two children he knew to be the Potter boys' best friends. "Do you know, little Mudblood? How about you, Blood Traitor?" As much as he enjoyed the theatrics, Voldemort's patience was thinning. "Where is he?!"
Silence remained the only reply and not a soul dared to even breath, for fear the Dark Lord would notice them and choose to entertain himself. That was when it happened though. Against all odds, the Boy-Who-Lived came walking onto the grounds. He looked triumphant, and the Dark Lord would never admit to it but it did make his slightly uneasy. He was unaware of the plan the boy had. He looked to Severus then, but Severus merely shook his head, indicating that whatever it was the boy was about to do, he had not been privy to when Albus had been alive.
"Hello Tom. Nice weather for a war, don't you think?" Hermione, Ron and just about every living soul looked to Harry with incredulousness. They couldn't believe him. "So, how are you?" Voldemort was not impressed but decided to humour him. After all, it was the boy's last day of living.
"'Fitting' would be the way to describe it, I believe. Thank you for asking, Harry. I'm very well, as you can see." He gestured around them, smiling (though it was nothing short of a horrific mockering upon the face of the Dark Lord). "What about yourself, dear boy? Today is your last."
"Yes, well, funny thing about that, isn't it? Apparently, I'm the only one who can take you down for good." He stood with an air of confidence. "Did you know that there's a power you know not?" He shucked a rock with his shoe in a random direction, his hands in his pockets as he casually addressed the man. Voldemort's cold laughter echoed at that.
"Ah, yes. It seems you've been made aware of the circumstances surrounding the deaths of your parents and the upcoming death of yourself. Tell me: what is it that you possess that has me beat? What 'weapon' have you procured that will end the life of the Dark Lord once and for all?" He asked slowly and with nothing short of a condescending tone to each word he pronounced. The man had his wand at the ready and was visibly surprised when Harry took his own out. The boy broke his wand in two, snapping it in half, and threw the pieces to the ground before he marched his way up to the creature that pretended to be a man.
"The power you know not, Tom Marvolo Riddle is: love." Harry whispered into Voldemort's ear.
There was a muffled protest and a gasp or five, but as the dust settled and the body of Voldemort crumbled to dust, there was nothing but silence.
"Did… Did he really just…?" One of the students tried to ask, not believing what had just happened. "He just… What?"
Harry could hardly believe what he just did himself and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.
"Blimey, that was awful." That sentence seemed to shock everyone out of their stupor. Realising their master was no longer, the Death Eaters tried to make their escape as the students rejoiced and attacked, attempting to detain the criminals.
Harry bent over, his friends rushing to his aid, afraid he had been injured. The boy let out a boisterous laugh then, clearly indicating that he was okay for the moment, if a little bit overwhelmed with the feeling of exhaustion.
"Merlin's beard! He didn't see that one coming!" Harry's words were nothing short of an understatement though. When the boy had found out that love was supposed to conquer all, he knew Dumbledore had not intended for him to use his advantage in such a way.
"Harry James Potter, what in the world were you thinking?!" He put an arm around Hermione's shoulder and let her assist him to the stone steps of Hogwarts. He just smiled, still laughing and giggling.
"Calm down, 'Mione. It was only a kiss!"
"Only a kiss mate?! You just planted one on the Darkest Lord in history!" Ron piped up.
"I can't believe you did that, Potter! What's wrong with you?!" A fellow Gryffindor joined in.
"That,"
"was,"
"wicked!" The Troublesome Twins applauded the boy, grabbing him from his friends and hoisting him upon their shoulders. "Harry, Harry, don't take the piss, or he will get you with a deadly kiss!" The laughter that arose brought smiles to the faces of nearly everyone on the grounds that day. They'd always remember though. The determination on the face of the Boy-Who-Lived as he grabbed Voldemort's head, the surprise and struggle the of the Dark Lord as he tried to escape Potter's grasp; the kiss that Harry had planted on the lips of evil before pulling a dagger and killing the supposed immortal. It would be in the history books for centuries to come. Though, Harry was sure that people wouldn't believe hide nor hair of it soon enough.
Authors Note: I just wanted to write a quick little oneshot where Harry decided to just kiss Voldemort and show him some loving (as a distraction, of course). I find the whole idea absolutely hilarious and, well, it would have worked. One hundred percent!