Cruciatus Curse!
Tris had never used it, but he knew the incantation well. No-Nose loved this spell almost as much as Avada Kedavra.
Tris reckoned he would definitely wet himself if that spell hit him. He had forgotten to use the bathroom before coming here. That had been a mistake.
So he had no intention of letting it hit him.
He had hurled filthy insults at Quirrell to lure him close enough. And now, he was close enough.
Before Quirrell could wave his wand and cast the Cruciatus Curse, Tris had already silently recited his own incantation.
Sectumsempra!
An invisible, silent magical blade slashed straight at Quirrell's throat.
"Dodge!" a voice suddenly rang out. Quirrell jolted mid-wave and instinctively shifted his body.
Shhk!
A faint tearing sound.
"Aaah!"
An agonized scream.
Quirrell's dodge had saved his neck from being severed by Sectumsempra, but the angle had left his wand hand right in its path.
His hand was sliced clean off at the wrist, flying through the air before landing far away. Quirrell's legs buckled from the searing pain, and he collapsed.
Movies had tough guys who could take a whole burst of bullets, lose limbs, and still grit their teeth and crawl forward. Though Tris was technically in a movie world himself, Quirrell clearly wasn't one of those tough guys.
After losing his hand, he writhed on the ground in pain, unable to get up.
The three kids beside him were dumbfounded.
What was going on?
They hadn't heard an incantation or seen any magic, so why had Quirrell's hand suddenly come off?
What had happened?
No one answered their questions. But with Quirrell in too much pain to concentrate, the ropes binding them lost their magical support and fell to the ground, freeing all three.
"Tris..." Harry stared blankly