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Harry was surely a nice boy.
With parents like James and Lily, though their time together had been short, surely would be a wonderful young man. Perhaps not a well-behaved one if he was anything like his father, but he couldn’t have anything against hapless teachers of Defense Against the Dark Arts, could he?
It was unusual circumstances that led to him killing his first one. Quirrell had been possessed by the Dark Lord. If anything, it was a good thing that Harry had... felled him.
It was lack of experience that botched Lockhart’s obliviation. A bit more study and practice would have prevented Lockhart’s catatonia and subsequent admission to St Mungo’s. Magic was dangerous and every young witch and wizard managed to cause some grievous injury during their studies. It wasn’t so unusual; it was just an unfortunate accident.
Nevermind why Harry had been trying to obliviate him in the first place.
In any case, Harry couldn’t bear all the responsibility. The position was cursed long before Harry ever attended Hogwarts. He couldn’t be blamed for it.
Despite all these explanations, the voice of Remus’ mother whispered an old adage in the back of his mind.
Once is an accident.
Twice is a coincidence.
Three times is a pattern.
As Remus stepped onto the Hogwarts Express for the first time since his graduation, he hoped that it would remain a coincidence.