Panting from the strain of his magical core, Harry looked up at the man standing tall above him. Even after this disastrous fight, he didn't have hair out of place. It's quite annoying if the very sight of him didn't make Harry feel relief.
Once upon a time, before every fucking shit happened, he would've been horrified that he actually genuinely cared about Lord Voldemort. They were supposed to be mortal enemies, always on the opposing sides.
But now, they stood together, side by side, as equals on the thrones of magical Britain, which they rightfully (not really but somehow from a certain point of view) won. It still felt surreal, downright impossible yet here they were.
"Need a hand?" Voldemort asked, a stupid smirk adorning his angelic face, hand outstretched to pull him up. Harry scowled, and stood up abruptly causing him to sway on his feet. Voldemort caught him by his arms, steadying him.
Harry would've thanked if it were anyone else. But it's Voldemort and he didn't want to see another godforsaken smirk so he ignored him. With a quick wave of his wand, he vanished the blood staining his dark grey robes and moved out of the warm embrace.
"To the northwest. There's a small establishment that was abandoned because of our raids a few months ago. They must have gone there," said Voldemort, his wild eyes scanning over their surroundings; always alert and calculating.
Harry shook his head.
"That would be Vineyard Village and you sent Dolohov there a few months ago. I don't think that there's a building left for them to hide in." Harry laughed humourlessly. "Besides it would be the farthest from their precious old headquarters and the rebels don't like moving to places far away from where they started. My bet's on the Rose Yard and probably the Greensville Road."
"Muggle places?"
"Exactly. The best places to hide in."
Voldemort arched an eyebrow at him. Oh, gods. Could he be even more fucking annoying?
"I'm feeling skeptical about this. Wouldn't that be foolish of them to stay close to where the raids happened the most? After all there's a chance that I might come here again. "
"Not that big of a chance, you idiot. You don't consider these places significant, you pretentious motherfucker. You like the grand glories and great honour and would never stoop so low as to visit a small undistinguished Muggle place," Harry sniped back, eyes glaring holes into the long black cape that it could burst up in flames with his glare alone.
" That is ... not incorrect."
"When am I not?" taunted Harry, a sneer not unlike his old potion professor on his face.
Voldemort looked at him with a grin that showed too many teeth.
"I remember a particular incident at the Florean Manor. An incident where..."
Dickhead. Piece of trash. Harry would never hesitate to say that to his face. So he did.
"You are an utter bastard and I should have ended your life when I had the chance."
Voldemort smirked cheekily.
"You didn't, my darling and you are to be blamed for that. Not me."
"It's because you couldn't just stay dead, you pretentious prick with a stick up the arse."
Harry could feel the icy glare pointed at him and it didn't diminish the enthusiasm Harry had in riling Voldemort up. In fact, it enabled him to file the dark and brooding even more.
"You're just like a teenager, always glaring, sulky and annoying."
Voldemort responded to his words this time. But to his disappointment the words returned were,"Thank you, my dearest. The best compliment you could've ever given me."
How fucking boring. Ugh.
They walked on without speaking a word after that. Not that they had anything to speak of except for their raids. And their alliance. And how useless their lackeys were. And how the wizarding world's food sucks. And the way muggle rock music is much much better than the Wizarding word's equivalent. And something, something.
Harry's thoughts came to an abrupt stop when he felt a vibration of magic in front of him and BANG. A flash of bright light and a loud loud bang. Holy shit. That sounded like a bomb. Lit up like one too.
Or since they were fine gentlemanly wizards it's very possible that whatever that made the noise and light was a bombada maxima against a gong because that sure as hell was loud enough to leave a constant ringing in his ears.
He moved to inspect whatever that was when Voldemort looked at him with horror in his eyes. Harry thought he could see some hint of fear in them too but he must be wishing hard enough to delude himself.
And finally the pain came from his side.
No. Not really. Everything was hurting now but especially his right side.
Shit.
"Oh fuck. It hurts."
Oops. Didn't mean to sound so whiny but he couldn't help it. It really fucking hurt.
He felt the shielding charms went up and suddenly a warm body was supporting his. Had Voldemort not done that, Harry was very sure that he would have collapsed onto the ground. Harry clung to the shoulder of his former nemesis and let out a hiss when he scratched a little too much and the pain flared up.
"Stop wiggling around. You're going to aggravate the injury," Voldemort scolded him and under normal circumstances Harry would have thought up a petty response and an insult but now he was in so much fucking pain and his useless brain was focusing on just the pain and nothing else so he couldn't retort back properly.
A fucking tragedy it really was.
"Whoever did that sucks at his job. That wasn't even a direct hit. I just have to worry about the blood loss, you know. And you have the replenishing potion, don't you?"
He felt Voldemort nodded above him and he was being embraced again. How embarrassing. But now he was the damsel in distress so he could voice up his displeasure.
Mr. Vee just had to put up with him. No other choice. Karma stroked hard when it actually did. He deserved to be annoyed by Harry.
He must admit that Voldemort was pretty warm. That could be the blood loss talking. And he smelled amazing. Like earth and petrihor at the same time. And it would be a lie to say that it didn't soothe his mind.
"I have been trying to close your wound with my magic this entire time and it doesn't seem to be working at all. You can't even feel that, can you? Do you want to bleed out and die?"
He sounded genuinely worried so it must be really bad. But Harry Potter wouldn't be Harry Potter if he wasn't The Sarcastic Bastard. Especially in situations where something important, like his very own life, was on the line.
"What? Is that any way to talk to an injured person? Didn't your mommy teach you better?"
Voldemort signed exasperatedly. HA! Even as an injured damsel, Harry could still annoy the shit out of him. If nothing else, this was an accomplishment that would go down in history.
"One, I never had a mommy. She kicked off the plane of existence right after getting me into it. Two, do I look like I give a fuck?"
No, he certainly didn't. He just looked annoyed. And tired. Very, very tired.A ridiculous emotion to see on the face of a dark lord. And Harry found that he didn't like that at all.
He must remedy that quickly.
"Ohhh. You said 'fuck', like a plain old muggle. Gotta write that down somewhere, dates and all."
Okay. That's something but the tired expression was gone from his face now. So, it's not an entirely failed attempt. Huzzah to him.
"Shut up, you little shit. You're all falling limbs. You're not helping at all."
Apparently, Voldemort became a potty mouth when he's irritated. Cool.
Harry tried to think of some witty response to whatever Voldemort had said but he couldn't remember what that actually was about. He just felt like sleeping. But his hindbrain was screaming at him that it would be a very bad idea to fall asleep right now.
"You are no good."
Uh oh. His words were slurred now.
"You need to stay awake, Harry. You're losing blood fast...Stay awake for me."
Voldemort sounded really worried. Harry didn't like Voldemort being worried. He needed to do something.
"For you?... Nope."
He could sense a grin on Voldemort's face. One more score to Harry.
"Hey, Voldemort."
Voldemort hummed in response, still holding him up but he seemed much relaxed. He must have used a featherlight charm.
"Why is my blood black? Is it because of the moonlight?"
Voldemort placed his hand over the wound, healing magic not touching it.
"A curse, possibly. I don't know how they did that but they somehow managed to combine a destructive spell and a blood curse. That makes things a lot worse, actually."
Not good then.
"By how much?"
"A lot worse but that's for other people. You have me here, my dear. You'll be fine in no time at all."
Lies. Lies. He would never tolerate lies, especially not those that concerned him. He hated lying and Voldemort knew that. Why would he lie to him now?
"You're not omnipotent."
A moment silence reigned, the fluttering of Voldemort's long robes the only sound breaking the deafening silence. He heard a soft sigh from the older wizard, a tired noise.
"I admit that I'm not."
Well, fuck. The mood was so gloomy now.
Harry thought about lies and deceit and Voldemort and Voldemort's lies and deceit, and reached a conclusion.
"Voldemort. You're keeping me awake on purpose, aren't you? You're not so talkative usually."
Voldemort sneered at him. But that actually didn't have that much effect since he still was supporting Harry up and Harry couldn't see his face properly. Good thing it didn't. Harry hated Voldemort making faces. He rather Voldemort made no expression at all. It would certainly make it a lot easier to work with him.
"There are many adjectives people use to describe me. Loquacious is not one of them."
Oh yeah. He's the bane of Harry's existence and the headache that bothered him way too much.
"Pretentious. Who uses loquacious? That's a snobby word. Nobody uses that."
"I do."
Of course, he did, that idiot. He's as pretentious as they come.
"You're an anomaly. You're so pretentious that you're an outlier in every survey about pretentious people."
"I'm now thinking that keeping you awake by talking to you is a mistake. Alas, I'm a generous lord and thus will continue to do so."
"See. Pre-ten-tious."
"Whatever you say, my dear. My only job here is to keep you alive long enough that you get to see tomorrow's sun."
A word in his lines got Harry thinking.
"Tomorrow."
Voldemort continued on, unaware of Harry's lack of interest in whatever he's saying.
"I have full faith in my own capabilities. I have no doubt that your injuries will be attended soon."
"What if it never comes?" Harry asked, his eyes closed as he imagined what it would be like if he were to die here. Things would definitely change. He's sure that Voldemort's plans would change. Peace wouldn't be achieved for a long time, he was certain of that.
It was very weird. When he was young, at the Dursleys, he thought that his death would have no impact on the world. He would die and there would be a funeral but nobody will be effected by that. They would say condolences they don't actually mean and they would forget him.
He thought he would die forgotten.
"Harry?"
Harry twisted his body to stare carefully into those red eyes.
He could die here. But he would not be forgotten. In fact, he would be obnoxiously decorated that everyone would have to learn his name. Voldemort would make sure of that.
If both of them ended dead after tonight, they would be in History as the most infamous villains of the Wizarding World. He would boy be forgotten. And Merlin, did that not sound so wonderful?
He would not be forgotten.
Harry asked the question.
"What if this is the end? What if tomorrow never comes?".
Voldemort jerked so fast that he almost dropped Harry. He adjusted his hold on him again and avoided the green irises staring into his soul.
Harry squeezed Voldemort gently.
"Voldemort. Answer me."
He shook his head and pulled Harry away from where they were standing before. Quickening his pace as if he wished to get out of here fast. Harry didn't mind that one bit but his desire to know what Voldemort has to say to that did not diminish one bit.
After several minutes of walking, they arrived at one of their safehouses. As Voldemort placed him on the couch and started attending to his wounds, Harry asked the question again. But this time there was an answer.
"Tomorrow always comes. Even if it comes without us, Harry. But if I wouldn't have you tomorrow, be assured that you will be avenged. Your legacy will not fade for years to come."
That's actually very sweet and poetic of him. It made Harry fall for that stupid man just a little bit more.
"How poetic. But thank you."
Voldemort reached for his hands and cupped them with his own.
"You just have to ask Harry. And I shall deliver all."
