The Boy Whe Fell Onto Me! Literally!

Harry Potter was tired. Harry was running, he was alone, injured, and hadn't I mentioned being tired? It's been two years since the legendary last stand between the forces of Lord Voldemort and the resistance, a battle in which Harry lost almost all of his allies. In that duel, Harry had dueled the Dark Lord himself and came out alive. A duel in which the most terrifying dark wizard of the century saw his end.

But it was a Pyrrhic victory. He lost everyone he once called family in it. Most of the Weasleys and the remnants of the Order fell right into a masterfully set trap and perished. The few remaining Death Eaters who survived the year-long guerrilla war led by Harry attacked the remnants of the trapped Order where Neville Longbottom, one of his best fighters, perished. His best friends Hermione and Ron died immediately after facing the horrendous team of Lestranges and Macnair. They at least took the Lestrange bitch with them. His girlfriend Ginny Weasley who was almost winning against the group of Dolohov and Higgs fell down for a cheap shot from Voldemort in an attempt to demoralize his opponent which led to his demise at the end of an enraged Harry Potter.

The Dark Lord might have died that night, but his remaining pureblood forces were still hunting down the meagre resistance members who were hunted and killed. The sole survivor was a badly injured Harry Potter. Upon seeing the grim scene with all of his family and allies dead, he changed into his famous canine animagus and fled.

The remaining Death Eaters, along with like-minded Pure-Blood elites, formed the "Supreme British Wizarding Government", which merged the Wizengamot and the old Ministry of Magic, under Tobernius Nott as the Supreme Minister. Thinking that prolonging the war at this stage was a poor choice, the Pure-Blood government made some concessions to the Grey Faction and somewhat appeased the remnants of the Light to temper the subjugation of muggle-born wizards, making it clear that they were of lesser status. Muggle-born babies were abducted from their families at birth and indoctrinated with the pure-blood ideology.

The few minor rebellions that seemed to gain enough attention are immediately quashed, and a barely stable status quo is achieved after two years. But the new Supreme government never gives up its pursuit of the one man it considers the single greatest threat to its power: the Vanquisher of Lord Voldemort (this time for real, not through some fluke sacrificial magic). It sends spying and elimination teams repeatedly after the famous wizard for almost two years without success. Every time the Prophecised One either destroys their teams or escapes with only minor injuries.

So this is how we find an injured Harry Potter running through the halls of the ancient fortress he has taken residence in the past few weeks, clutching his wounded (thankfully left) arm and a faulty (but still manageable) wand in his right hand. All his way out was blocked. All physical entrances were either bolted or heavily fortified by members of the "Elite" squad.

On a normal day he can take on three times those odds and come unscathed (which he did in the past). But now he is injured, magically exhausted, and tired. He cannot even dream of overcoming the magical barriers placed around the fortress, as while he can outduel large contingents of wizards and duel Voldemort or Dumbledore to a standstill, or even kill the former on a lucky day (which did happen), he is terrible with wards. He cannot do flashy magic—the type of Dumbledore. He is a duelist, fighter, survivor, and a shitty healer. That's all. The one who planned this ambush knows him and his current predicament well. Probably Erica Selwyn, the mastermind behind the many successful ambushes of Weasleys and other Resistance members.

So Harry Potter was running, dodging stray spells and keeping ahead of the enemy. Did I mention he is tired? He is tired of the war. Tired of all the meaningless fighting. He didn't want to fight. Everything he once fought for, his family, his friends, his supporters, his freedom are gone. The sheep of the Wizarding Britian unsurprisingly followed the new 'Supreme ' government and made him a pariah. Even the international borders have been closed to him. (Heck, he tried to move to France, where he was immediately caught and sent back thankfully to a deserted area. At least they were courteous and apologetic. The next time he tried to flee to the Americas via a small boat, he somehow triggered an alarm, which sent squads of Death Eaters his way immediately. They seemed to have created a blood ward to detect if he travels beyond a certain distance. Thank you, Dumbledore, for dying without destroying my blood samples in your spying trinkets). He was running out of energy now, both magically and physically. If a squad comes his way, he's done for, unless his most powerful weapon shows up.

Unluckily and unsurprisingly for him, it was an enemy squad that showed up first. It was a team of five: three males and two females. The three males were lanky and rather unassuming, probably newbies. One of the females, the bulkier one, he recognized as his classmate Millicent Bulstrode. The other female seemed familiar to him but he couldn't place it in the battle mindset.

The first spell was unleashed by the lead quickshot male, which again unsurprisingly was an Avada Kedavra. Harry immediately conjures a pigeon to intercept the curse, then simultaneously summons the lead opponent's pants to break his balance and unleashed a bludgening curse at his groin area. He sends the same curse at the petite girl to send he rumbling onto a nearby dias. He dodged the return fire and sent a Black Flame throwing charm at the remaining males. One of them had the presence of mind to cast a counter flame freezing charm but it was too weak and pretty much ineffective against the heavily madified Black family version of the flame spell.

A normal person might have been caught off guard by the sudden physical attack from the Bulstrode woman who crossed the distance between them during the course of spellfire and lunged at Harry. Although he anticipated and prepared for the attack, a weaker and injured Harry could not afford much of a challenge against the bulky girl when she took advantage of his weakened body and exhausted magic from his previous use of the Black family spell, and was smashed into the nearby dias floor, onto the previously fallen petite girl. Before he could react, he immediately received heavy pounding from the meaty fists of the girl looking menacingly down at him.

Just before giving up, he tapped into his meager magical reserves and used them to perform a blunt force push that sent the large girl flying into a large nail supporting a painting, which effectively killed the girl.

This is when Harry's most powerful tool, the 'Potter Luck', decides to act up. The impacted potrait tilts to open an unknown passage to the outside forest of the forest. Just when Harry becomes excited and gains hope of an escape, the other face of the Potter Luck coin turns, completely tilting Harry's world upside down. Literally. The dias on which he and the petite girl were laying on suddenly flips and they fall down into a dark room. His mind starts slipping into unconsciousness after hitting the floor hard. The last thing he sees is the girl who fell along with him rubbing her head and slowly standing up.