Chapter Text
Harry would like to state for the record that this was not his fault. In fact, it couldn’t even be blamed on his luck. A wide majority would doubt this claim, but Harry has had time to stare at his ceiling in the Dursleys’ house to contemplate with the self-help books Aunt Petunia uses to validate her spite.
Yes, Harry could admit that perhaps he should have remembered that everything goes to shit at the end of school years, but they usually work themselves out. That is, with the exception of the last school year.
Rest in peace Cedric, you will be remembered always, Harry sent a quick prayer as he dodged spells from robed Death Eaters. Harry doesn’t know how to exit this chamber, all he knows is that he might have fucked up this time. But it’s not totally my fault! How was I supposed to know this vision wasn’t the real deal?
As he parried spells, Harry felt something tingling his Spider-sense. His head swiveled and was faced with the vision of Bellatrix Lestrange, wand up and ready to curse Sirius.
Now, Harry could have done any number of actions. He could have sent a quick Stupefy her way, or perhaps disarmed her with his nifty Expelliarmus.
But no.
Harry forgets for a moment that he is a wizard. He stashes his wand in his pocket, advances towards the madwoman like a madman, and knees her behind the knees. This sends both of them tumbling, along with her wand, to the ground while they grapple for her wand.
“Just… Gimme—Ow!”
“Move, cretin!—“
“Bitch—ugh”
Because Harry is reasonably dressed in muggle clothing, and Bellatrix is dressed in what seems to be a 10 pound dress, he is swiftly able to snatch the wand. In a momentary victory, Harry smiles up and at Sirius, who seems to not share the sentiment.
Sirius was standing in horror about 3 feet away, and Harry soon realized why as he felt a great force barrel into him from behind. Harry knocks into Sirius and the momentum drives all all three of them past the arch and beyond.
Fuck.