Tomarry / Harrymort One Shots

Tomorrow

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, the boy saviour, 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 sat 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, an annoyingly 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.

"And 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. "

Oh yeah. He could. His sole hobby must be pushing Harry's limit of patience and driving him to insanity.

"Not that big of a chance, you idiot."

At that, Voldemort glared at him. Good. That's more like Voldemort he remembered. Harry glared back at him.

"You don't consider these places significant, you pretentious fuck. 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..."

Voldemort was definitely a dickhead. Worthless 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, his entire demeanor that of a cat that got the cream.

"You didn't, my darling and you are to be blamed for that. Not me."