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It had been a long time in coming this date, and Harry was excited as he was nervous. He and Draco had been snogging randomly in hallways and abandoned classrooms for months now and he had only just managed to get Draco to agree to go on a date with him.
Holding off on blowjobs was simultaneously the best and worst idea Harry had ever had.
But here they were, walking to Hogsmeade hand in hand and ignoring the ever-living fuck out of their school companions. Well, Harry was at least.
“Merlin’s tits, Potter. They’re all staring at us, do you have to hold my hand and look so besotted at me?”
Harry snorted. “Besotted? Is that what this is? I’m just thinking about getting my mouth on your cock later, now that you’ve finally agreed to be my boyfriend and all.”
“Urgh, don’t remind me.” Draco groaned, but the small smile tucked into the corner of his mouth belied his true feelings on the matter and Harry tugged him to a stop and kissed him amidst the swirling snow.
“Here?” Draco murmured against his lips, “where anyone can see?”
“What? Ashamed to be seen with Scarhead?” Harry teased.
Draco pulled back, “no. just worried.”
Harry sighed and reached out to place his hand on Draco’s neck. “You don’t need to be. I know what I’m doing.”
“You still haven’t told me what that is. How do I know?” Draco griped.
“Just trust me?”
Rolling his eyes, Draco resumed their walk down the main street of Hogsmeade, headed toward the Three Broomsticks where they had planned to have lunch.
They had barely made it more than a few steps however when none other than Voldemort himself appeared in front of them.
“Oh, look,” Harry said mildly. “It’s Tim Riddle.”
Voldemort snarled. “It’s TOM Riddle. Also, it’s not Tom Riddle. It’s Lord Voldemort.”
Harry laughed. “Classic Tim.”
Draco tugged his hand out of Harry’s and hissed quietly next to him. “What the fuck, Potter? That’s the Dark Lord!”
“No, that’s Tim Martha Riddle.”
“It’s MARVOLO .” Voldemort roared, too stunned by his anger to move.
“Harry…”
“Just wait,” Harry murmured, reaching out to squeeze Draco’s hand in reassurance.
Just then, there was a heavy thud, like a great weight had impacted with the cobbled streets of Hogsmeade and Harry leant to the side to look around Voldemort. The activation phrase for his trans-dimensional portkey had worked then.
There was a thick, wet, tearing sound and then the tip of a silver sword pushed through Voldemort’s chest.
Voldemort gasped and shuddered, his head turning to look behind him. A large, muscled man with white hair and dressed in heavy leather stood behind him.
“Who… Who are you?”
“I’m Geralt of Rivia.”
Blood bubbled slowly at the corners of Voldemort’s mouth. “How― why?”
“I took a contract. You were it.”
With that, Voldemort slumped and Geralt tipped him forward, using his boot to push the body off his sword completely. He wiped some of the blood off on Voldemort’s robes and approached Harry and Draco.
“My coin?”
Harry nodded and reached into his pocket, pulling a large bag full of galleons from it. “You used the poison I gave you?”
Geralt nodded. “I had it checked out. A sorceress I know was quite impressed with it. She wanted to know what components you used that it would spread through the soul like that. No matter how mutilated.”
Harry shrugged. “Bit of this, a bit of that. She’s welcome to come and talk to me about it.”
Geralt grunted and gave them a curt nod. With that, he gripped the leather cuff around his wrist that Harry had given him and said. “Kaer Morhen.”
Leaving them in the street with Voldemort’s body at their feet. Harry turned to Draco.
“So, lunch?”
Draco just stared at him with an open mouth unable to answer.
“Come on,” Harry said, pulling him toward the Three Broomsticks, “I’ll buy you that fancy butterbeer you like.”