Inheritance | Harry Potter x Reader

Year 3 ✧₊⋆.˚Rat Chase

For a typical day in Y/N's life, this wouldn't be so weird.

And yet it was.

She was staring at her father. She recognized those eyes. She looked at them in her own mirror every day.

"Expelliarmus!" Sirius croaked, pointing Ron's wand at them.

Harry, Y/N, and Hermione's wands shot out of their hands, high in the air, and Black caught them. Then he took a step closer. His eyes were fixed on Harry.

"I thought you'd come and help your friend," he said hoarsely. His voice sounded as though he had long since lost the habit of using it. "Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you, not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful...it will make everything much easier..."

The taunt about his father rang in Harry's ears as though Black had bellowed it. A boiling hate erupted in Harry's chest, leaving no place for fear. For the first time in his life, he wanted his wand back in his hand, not to defend himself, but to attack...to kill. Without knowing what he was doing, he started forward, but there was a sudden movement on either side of him and two pairs of hands grabbed him and held him back.

"No, Harry!" Hermione gasped in a petrified whisper; Y/N, however, spoke to Black.

Y/N walked in front of Harry and Hermione, shielding them.

"Don't hurt them!" she exclaimed. "If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!"

"Yeah!" Ron groaned as his foot ached. "What Y/N said!"

Something flickered in Black's shadowed eyes. "Lie down," he said quietly to Ron. "You will damage that leg even more."

"Did you hear me?" Ron said weakly, though he was clinging painfully to Harry to stay upright. "You'll have to kill all four of us!"

"There'll be only one murder here tonight," said Black, and his grin widened.

"Why's that?" Harry spat, trying to wrench himself free of Ron and Hermione. "Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew...What's the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?"

"Harry!" Hermione whimpered. "Be quiet!"

Harry knew he was looking at Y/N's biological father, but he couldn't help it anymore.

"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" Harry roared, and with a huge effort he broke free of Hermione's and Ron's restraint and lunged forward —

He had forgotten about magic — he had forgotten that he was short and skinny and thirteen, whereas Black was a tall, full-grown man — all Harry knew was that he wanted to hurt Black as badly as he could and that he didn't care how much he got hurt in return —

Perhaps it was the shock of Harry doing something so stupid, but Black didn't raise the wands in time — one of Harry's hands fastened over his wasted wrist, forcing the wand tips away; the knuckles of Harry's other hand collided with the side of Black's head and they fell, backward, into the wall —

Hermione was screaming; Ron was yelling; there was a blinding flash as the wands in Black's hand sent a jet of sparks into the air that missed Harry's face by inches; Harry felt the shrunken arm under his fingers twisting madly, but he clung on, his other hand punching every part of Black it could find.

But Black's free hand had found Harry's throat —

"No," he hissed, "I've waited too long —"

Then he saw Y/N's foot swing out of nowhere. Black let go of Harry with a grunt of pain as she pushed him once more; Ron had thrown himself on Black's wand hand and Harry heard a faint clatter —