"My..My Lord?" Lucius Malfoy shivered, looking at the large stone circle surrounding him, "My Lord, why are we meeting here tonight instead of your cozy, draft-free, fireplace-heated mansion?"

"Becausssse, Lusssssiussssss," Voldemort hissed, before stopping and looking annoyed.

"Who sssssssstole my fake teesssssssss SSSSSSSIS time? Wormtail?"

The rat reluctantly held out his price, Voldemort's teeth. He also supplied the kukident.

A few moments later, and Voldemort was capable of understandable speech once more.

"Because, Lucius, the Chaos of the Phoenix knows that location."

"Order, Master."

The Dark Wizard turned to his right. "Bella?"

"Order, Master. Order of the Phoenix, not Chaos."

"Well, they certainly are chaotic," the snake-like man grumbled. "Never mind. We are gathered here today…"

"AAAAAAYYYOOOOOHAAAAAAAAAAAA!" a voice came from above.

Severus Snape rolled his eyes as he saw Harry Potter descend into the circle, wearing a Muggle device called a parachute. He remembered seeing pictures of it as a child.

"SEVERUS! Stop thinking Muggle thoughts!" Voldemort chastised.

He turned to his enemy, who was stripping himself off his gear.

"Potter…what are you doing here?"

"Well, the Order is once more in chaos…" Harry paused in confusion when Voldemort sent a satisfied glance at a sulking Bellatrix.

"So I decided to take matters into my own hands, like the idiotic moronic dunderhead Gryffindor that I am."

"And what do you think to accomplish by coming here tonight?" Voldemort asked.

"Why, to drive you to suicide, Voldie," Harry replied happily.

"While you are an annoying brat, Potter, if I haven't been driven to suicide after teaching you for all those years, the Dark Lord certainly isn't…"

Severus Snape was cut off when Harry Potter grabbed the dark, snarky man, dipped him, and locked their mouths in a deep kiss.

Wet sounds emerged as their tongues fought for control.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW" was the response of the collective Death Eaters.

Voldemort stared at the two in horror, before driving his nails into his eyes, trying to gauge them out, hoping to erase the mental picture from his brain.

Thus Voldemort and most of his Death Eaters died that day, driven to either insanity or suicide by the most appalling scene they had ever witnessed.

Harry finally stopped his assault on the Potions Masters tonsils, and looked up to see bloody and drooling Death Eaters around him.

"It worked," he panted.

Snape, having been dropped unceremoniously to the ground as Harry released him, held out an arm to be helped up.

"It would seem so," he conceded. He dug into his robes pockets and took out a Galleon that he handed to the boy.

"I hate to lose bets," he muttered, "but at least YOU get to explain this," he motioned to the bodies, "to Albus."

Harry grinned happily. "Do you want me to tell the truth, or should I fabricate something else? Dumbledore would make sure our little escapade here would leak to the Daily Prophet…you would forever be known as The Man Who Lived To Kiss Potter."

Sulking deeply, Snape followed the bane of his existance as he wrapped the body of the Dark Lord in his parachute and proceeded to drag it over to where the Order Members were now Apparating in.

"Saw it in a movie once," he giggled, "Come on, Snape. You killed a man with a kiss. You should be proud."

"Ten points from Gryffindor," he heard somewhere behind him.