"So your scar hurts whenever you are near some form of the Dark Lord?" Andromeda asked over the breakfast table. She had been surprised when she found her daughter's bed empty and Nymphadora cuddled up to Harry. However, while Dursley-related issues had been her first thought, the truth was much darker.
"Yes, although it wasn't as bad with the diary-shade-thing as with Quirrel's leech."
"And these dreams?"
"They are new… I've seen glimpses before, something about someone proving his worth, but never like this…"
"Mum, you don't think that he is nearby?"
"No, Bella's mark was still faded, although she said it is getting darker again. But I definitely believe that it was some kind of vision. Bertha Jorkins is listed as missing by the Ministry and I doubt that Harry has access to, much less actually read that list."
"Who is… was she?" Harry wanted to know.
"A Ministry employee. Department of Magical Transportation I think."
"Magical Games and Sports. She was in Bella's year and not particularly bright," Dora's mother corrected her. "Harry, did anyone ever examine your scar?"
"Uhm, I think not. Hagrid said that he took me to Madam Pomfrey after that Halloween…
"My teacup has more right to call itself healer than that woman. Would you mind if I take another a look at it?"
"No… Do you think that there's something wrong with it?"
"To be honest I do not have much experience with treating curse damage but I know enough about the subject to say that your scar should not be a Dark Lord radar. And frankly, it doesn't make any sense that you feel it at all. The killing curse leaves no mark to begin with, and he had no reason to curse you with something lingering and if the Dark Lord wanted to kill you, why would he cast something painful before trying to murder you? And those curses hurt all the time, not if the caster is nearby… Also, it would be agony, not just a headache… Alright, let's see what we have here…" Andromeda trailed off as her wand ghosted over his scar while he was trying to keep his thoughts away from imminent doom. "Hmm, the regular diagnostic charms show nothing, which is definitely wrong. I can see and feel the scar, so why isn't it showing here…"
Yeah, so much for positive thoughts.
"Have you tried the normal detection spells instead of the medical ones?" Dora asked her mother as the older witch kept poking the scar with her fingers.
"No, I doubt that they would find something here but it's worth a try either way… Hmm, this doesn't feel right, the scar tissue is far harder than it should be… The general detection spells show nothing either, so it's time to try the narrower alternatives…"
Andromeda's tone was far too jovial for this kind of topic, Harry decided, and it did little to reassure him. When fifteen minutes passed and she could only say that there was some truly dark magic lingering on his forehead, he found it more and more concerning, especially since she found the entire thing fascinating, like a challenging riddle.
"I have never seen something like this before. It is unlike any curse I have heard of and makes little sense. There's no active magic but it drains a very small part of your own magic, far less than even a Lumos charm. There are spells which do that, but they tend to be a lot faster and lethal within ten minutes so we can rule them out as well… Maybe the remnants of some ritual Voldemort was doing… Perhaps something to enhance his body… No, that would require a ritualistic murder, not the killing curse… Maybe… No…" Andromeda tucked her wand away before taking a deep breath. "Harry, I hate to say this, but I cannot tell you what is in that scar. However, it is certainly nothing good, so my professional recommendation would be to remove the scar."
"You can do that? Wait, of course, that is possible. There's a potion to regrow bones so removing a simple scar is easy, right?" Harry asked. He was already happily looking forward to finally being free from the ugly mark on his forehead, to the point where he forgot the panic about his imminent doom. The scar by itself was a curse and, with very few exceptions, people always looked at it with either pity or awe and the Gryffindor couldn't stand either. Really, why were people thinking that he did something to Voldemort? In two out of three encounters with the Dark Lord, his mother's magic was the reason for certain out of body experiences.
"Actually magic is unsuitable for treating most curse damage. A lot of the so-called Dark Arts even react violently to healing spells. Luckily for you, the scar is on relatively simple tissue, so we can simply cut it out and regrow the skin. I can even use the skin-weaving potion we brewed last week to patch you up afterwards," his aunt said and again failed to reassure him. While Harry was quite certain that his potion abilities were better than Snape said, but he was uncomfortable with the idea of actually using his brews.
"Do we HAVE to use my potion?"
"I assure you, it is perfectly fine. But if you want, I can make some myself, or even buy some if it makes you feel better about the procedure. And there are a few things I need to do before we get that scar out," Andromeda said as she made a mental to-do list as a deep, three-tone chime echoed through the house.
"The wards?" Dora asked as she reached for her wand, her eyes jumping between the windows.
"Yes, but unless I am not mistaken it is the mail dump..." Andromeda trailed off as she went to check a small storage compartment below the roof. She found the room overflowing with unwanted packages and letters. Grimacing, she activated a rune cluster designed to deposit the entire collection to the DMLE and let them deal with that issue. Sometimes, living in a house belonging to one of Britain's most notorious families had its advantages.
Nymphadora Tonks was quite happy to take her cousin's mind away from Dark Lords and cursed scars, even if that meant playing apparation taxi for three teenagers. The original idea had been dropping Harry off at his friend's house in Rochester, but since none of them actually had a plan what to do, she offered to take them to the beach. Of course, they probably expected to end up in Folkestone, or maybe Brighton but that wouldn't do. It would be Harry's first time at a beach and Britain's overrun tourist spots weren't what she had in mind.
Fifteen minutes of packing and six apparations later, Dora was perched on one of her favourite spots. The beach stretched beyond the horizon on both sides and the ocean in front of her looked simply heavily. In fact, she even matched her hair to the azure water. And the sound, the pure delight of waves rolling towards the shoreline. Her teenage passengers, however, were looking around in confusion.
"Miss Tonks, where exactly are we?"
Miss Tonks, that was a new one and Harry had no qualms to laugh at the formal address. And really, it's been far too long since she's been here, not since Isy took the job offer in New Zealand last year.
"This was at one time the pride and bulwark of the Third Reich. Now 's the best beach you can apparate to from Britain. And this pillbox has the perfect angle for an even tan."
"But where are we?"
"The closest village is Lacanau, twenty-five miles west of Bordeaux. These bunkers are what remains of the Atlantikwall. They were built atop the cliff there by the Germans, but some slid down over the years."
"We are near Bordeaux?" Katie asked. "We are actually in France?"
"Yeah, so?"
Really, what's the big deal? Tonks still had fond memories of the Pan-European pub crawls together with her friends. Nothing better than waking up in a random hotel room and not even knowing which country you were in. Ah, good times.
"But that's… that's far away," Leanne eloquently pointed out.
"Then I probably shouldn't mention that I'm getting our lunch from Strasbourg."
"WHAT?"
Alright, perhaps the cocky grin had been a tad too much. But at least Harry was not surprised by her antics. Then again, he had two weeks to get used to her while the girls were just getting their first taste.
"Food always tastes the best where it is originally from. French cuisine for fancy occasions, Italy has superb pasta, pizza and ice, Germany makes the best Sausages and Kebab, Swiss and Belgium are the masters of chocolate creations and you get the best Kaiserschmarrn in Austria. I'm in the mood for Tarte Flambée, so a trip to Alsace is in order."
"But that's so much work, just for our lunch. You really don't need to…"
"Really girls, perhaps you haven't figured it out yet, but magic is not just turning teacups into frogs. Just ask Harry what I've shown him…"
That should get their attention back to her cousin while she tried to figure out if there was any attraction between them and him. After all, teenage love triangles could be more entertaining than any show on the telly.
"Uhm, she turned her nose into a cock… It was huge, hung past her chin like an elephant trunk... It was more than a little disturbing but…"
Great choice of example there, Harry. Really, of all casual displays of magic he had seen, that one was the most outstanding? What about the time she benched a thousand pounds with only a featherlight charm?
"You what?" Leanne shrieked while her friend only giggled.
"You can fill a dozen ice boxes with snowballs to have a snowball fight in the middle of summer and no one remembers. But turn your nose into a dick once…"
Alright that got the mood back to cheerful, they were already in swimwear, there were more than enough cans of coke in her backpack, they had towels… Oh right, sunburns! Now, where was that bottle?
"For example, there's this charm for decorating cakes. However, you can also use it to paint. Or apply sunscreen."
And with a wave of her wand, all three teens felt something wet spreading over their skin. It would have been more fun to watch them awkwardly decided who'd do Harry, but they had places to be. Namely the Atlantic Ocean. Teaching her cousin how to swim had been a great foresight and perhaps some teasing was in order. After all, she had three perfect victims right in front of her.
"You know, I could take you to a nude beach the next time."
"Well, nothing Harry hasn't seen before," Katie replied nonchalantly and now it was Tonks turn to gape. Her cousin had certainly forgotten to mention that part.
"What?"
"Our Quidditch captain thinks that showering together is a team-building exercise," Harry quickly explained. "It stopped being awkward after the first week…"
"And then our teammates started making out in the showers as soon as Wood left to get changed. I like Angie, but I could have done without seeing her snogging both Weasley twins… at the same time. Either they forget that we're there or they simply don't care," Katie added with a shudder.
"Team-building exercise, gotta remember that one… Anyway, enough of teenagers making out. Unless you want to do that, in which case don't mind me, I'm here for the ocean and the beach. You see the green flag over there?" Dora asked while gesturing towards a pole a few hundred yards away, with a small piece of green fabric fluttering in the breeze. The trio simply nodded, eager to get into the water. "Means that the waves should be around than two feet so you can play in there without worrying about drowning. I've got sunglasses, goggles, a beach ball and lilos, so just ask me if you want something."
Truth be told, she only had half of these things, but transfiguration would do for now. If this became a regular event, maybe a more permanent solution would be in order. But for now, she simply enjoyed the gentle rocking of the waves and the refreshing cold of the water as she walked over the idyllic beach and into the Atlantic Ocean.
Tonks spent a lot of time watching the three teens, partially to make sure they didn't drown, but also to see how her cousin acted around his friends. It quickly became obvious that while Harry and Leanne were friendly towards each other, they were Katie's friends first and the brunette was the centre of their attention. Given enough time, that could change but she remembered that the friendship between her cousin and the Asian girl was fairly new, so that kind of behaviour was to be expected. And he was trying, like right now, when he kept asking questions about her internship with Katie's father. Although why anyone would like to work at a magical apothecary was beyond Tonks' understanding. Unlike Chemists, they reeked of half-rotten creature entrails and fermented potion ingredients, or at least the ones in Diagon did.
As for Harry's old friends, Dora was slightly disappointed by them. One had abandoned him in favour of overworking herself while the other didn't put any effort into the friendship. Sure, Hermione had not been the first to try more classes than she could handle when the electives became available, but after hearing Harry talk about it, the metamorph couldn't help but be angry at his studious friend. Knowing about the misplaced academic zeal did little to stop him from being hurt by Hermione's behaviour. At least her parents seemed to have talked some sense into the girl if her letters were any indication. Tonks really hoped that those three would sort their problems out once they were back in Hogwarts.
After several deluges of mail filled with everything from marriage proposals to cursed artefacts, Thursday dawned and it was the date of the knockout stage in Holyhead. There Harry experienced the benefit of connections first hand when the Lithuanian coach got them VIP seats because she was hoping to make a deal with the Comet company. While his aunt was not part of the sales department, she could probably pull some strings and the Tonks family, which now included him, found themselves in soft armchairs, watching the game play out over their heads while house elves provided food and drink.
The match itself was not particularly interesting since Flanders played absolutely abysmal, allowing the Baltic team to show off and scoring without opposition. Twenty minutes into the game, the score reached 160 to 0 and Harry wondered just how Flanders had passed the group stage. At that point, Lithuania switched back a couple gears while Rimsaité fainted and led the Flemish seeker into a beater ambush. By the time he spotted the two Bludgers homing in, it was already too late as both hit him almost simultaneously. Using the confusion, Rimsaité banked to the left and shot upwards in a steep climb as her opponent fell into the Irish Sea. The match was ist over for a final score of 340 to nil.
From the VIP Lounge, Harry had a front row seat to the aftermatch circus, where dozens of reporters tried to hound the winning team. If this was normal, he'd never play professionally, the Gryffindor decided. He already had more than enough unwanted attention and there were at least twenty journalists swarming a random European team after what could be called warm up before a relaxed training. Just how many would come to see him play?
"Excuse me, coach said you play seeker as well?" a young woman said with a thick Eastern European accent. Harry turned around to come face to face with an athletically build witch clad in the red and gold robes of the Lithuanian Quidditch team. She was more than a head taller than him and had wavy black hair framing her round face.
"Uhm, yes I do. I'm Harry Potter…"
"And I am Princess Leia… And Harry Potter wears pointy hat. You don't have pointy hat."
"What?" He could only stare at the girl, wondering what she was talking about. There were a couple things widely known about his appearance, like the scar, the glasses or that he had his mother's eyes while otherwise being a carbon copy of his father. But a pointy hat? He had only worn that thing once when all first years had been led to the sorting. And like everyone else, he had to put it down before upgrading to the Sorting Hat.
Dora, however, found the entire exchange utterly hilarious and burst out laughing, which made the other two give her odd looks.
"Was it something I said?" the player wanted to know, her confusion matching Harry's.
"You are talking about those books by Joanne… Joanne something, right?"
"Yes, so?"
"You see… Oh, this is simply too good… You see, these books are using Harry here as a protagonist…"
"They are real? But he has no pointy hat!"
"Yes, he's not blonde either. There were quite a few authors who used Harry's name to make some quick gold."
"So he is actually real? What about that Voldemort guy? Surely he is made up, yes?"
"Wait, you think the Dark Lord is just a book character?"
"He is not?"
"Nooo…" Harry drew out his reply and had to stop himself from laughing when the girl realised what she has unknowingly been doing.
"I'm so sorry, you must think I am idiot now. Back at home, no one would dare to plot against the Ministry, KGB makes sure of that."
"Well, you could make up for it by telling us your name," Dora suggested.
"Gabija Rimsaité, but Gaby is fine. I'm seeker, but you saw the match."
"Well, I'm Harry and that is Dora."
"You go to Hogwarts, yes?"
"Uhm, yeah?" he replied, not sure where this was going. Harry was still bewildered that there were people who thought he was just a character in one of those awful books. Then again, the young woman in front of him thought that Voldemort had been made up since her Ministry had things well under control.
"Then we will meet there. Excuse me, coach has to pay for this."
When the seeker left the lounge Dora and her cousin were left to their thoughts. This meeting has been more than a little strange.
"Oh, you are definitely getting a pointy hat as birthday present."
"What did she mean with meeting me at Hogwarts? She's not a student, right? I mean, she would have seen me…" Harry trailed off, ignoring any hat-related comments.
"There are a couple rumours going around in the Ministry. Apparently, Dumbledore and Crouch are cooking up something, some sort of competition. Now, this is just hearsay, but it looks like they are bringing back the Triwizard Tournament…"
"The what?"
"Triwizard Tournament. 'S like one of these weird Japanese gameshows but with all sorts of magical challenges that kill the contestants. I have a friend working at Import Control for the DMLE and they're bringing a couple dragons into the country for some reason. Now, my awesome detective skills say that 's for the Tournament."
"But what does that has to do with Hogwarts?"
"'S usually a competition between Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons."
"Students fighting dragons? How much do you want to bet that I end up in that thing without wanting to?"
"Don't joke about that!" Tonks hissed and drew him into a tight hug. "I'd end up worrying my hair grey if that'd happen. And I don't look good in grey."
By the end of the week, Andromeda had talked to a couple colleagues and checked a dozen books for relevant information. Yet that did not change her initial diagnosis that, whatever kind of dark magic was stuck at his forehead was definitely not beneficial and Harry would be better off without it. And so she removed it. The procedure was simple, a localised numbing charm, followed by four cuts with a scalpel, a detection spell to make sure all the affected tissue was removed, a vial of skin-weaving potion and a front row seat to his aunt using Fiendfyre to burn the flap of skin. Seeing the cursed flames was anticlimactic since Andi contained them to the size of a block of butter.
The surgery itself went without a hitch but nonetheless had strange side effects. While still farsighted, Harry noticed that his vision improved somewhat, which rendered his glasses useless and made a trip to an optician necessary. Since enchanted eyewear was forbidden in Hogwarts, Andromeda saw no benefit in taking him to Diagon Alley and they went to the nearest Muggle store, which happened to be in Canterbury, where he got fitted to a simple pair of rimless glasses. A much larger problem became obvious when Harry tried to cast a lighting charm later that day. Instead of the usual, dim light, the spell flooded the room with blinding white, which immediately began to flicker. After several attempts with the same results, the wizard noticed that his wand felt different than it did before. Instead of the welcoming warm, the wood felt cold, almost dead in his hand. When he asked Dora for advice, she pulled out her own wand and handed it to Harry. When he had better results with the borrowed one than with his own, the metamorph went to fetch her mother.
"When did you notice this?"
"Uh, ten minutes ago. I tried a few spells and it's always the same. They work but I cannot control them at all. There's a sheet of paper sticking to the ceiling after I tried to levitate it," Harry explained and pointed at the wooden panels above them. After another try with Andromeda's wand, the older witch declared that he needed a new wand since he had more control with foci not loyal to him than with his bonded one.
"Uhm, are there other wand crafters?"
"More than you can count, but most of them are shite. Why are you asking?" Tonks wanted to know.
"Well, Ollivander was really creepy."
"Nothing new with that…"
"He kept saying that Voldemort did great things. And that my wand shared a core with his."
"Alright, THAT is new."
"And definitely a reason not to go there. Brother wands have all sorts of strange interactions and selling you a wand matched with his… Is highly irresponsible. There is no way to tell what would have happened if you ever crossed wands but I doubt that it would have been good."
The next morning Harry tumbled against his aunt after they finished a series of apparations and ended up in a place, not unlike Diagon Alley. They were at the bank of a river, with an ornate white building sitting on the other side, a sandstone cathedral with copper roofs even further behind it. However, the language the people there were speaking sounded very foreign and the Gryffindor couldn't even begin to guess where they were. Andromeda led him into a small dark shop, where she talked to the owner in a different language than the one spoken outside.
The young man, at least ten years younger than Andi, pulled several boxes from the shelves and handed them to his customer. Harry expected that he would have to try half of the inventory again, but after a dozen wands, each feeling better than the one before, he found one that was too hot to touch. The feeling stopped when Harry dropped the wooden stick but when he picked it up again, it felt just right, trailing a purple glow through the air
"Try to cast a spell, something minor," Andromeda translated and he tried to levitate a quill. While not easier to cast than with his old wand, Harry felt like he had more control over the spell. Turning the Quill into a fork, however, took far more effort than he was used to and the shopkeeper said something when he noticed his customer's frown.
"10 ¼ inches, Willow and Dragon Heartstring. Good for charms and curses, one from his grandfather's works," Andromeda translated before explaining just where they were. "His grandfather was Mykew Gregorovitch. He retired a few years ago but as you can see his son and grandson continue the family trade."
Back in Kent, Harry was eager to try out his newly acquired wand and so Andromeda took him to the training room and set up a target for spell practice.
"There are dark times ahead of us. The Dark Lord is doing something to restore his body and his followers are up to something as well. Now, from what you have said it sounds like the potion he is going to use takes almost a year to brew, which gives us time..."
"Do you really think I can fight him?"
"Definitely not. The Dark Lord… He did not kill many people himself but those he did… They stood no chance. The McKinnons were over twenty witches and wizards gathered for the Autumn Equinox. The Ministry took three minutes to respond to their distress call and by that time, they were all gone. Not simply dead, but slaughtered like cattle and then minced into a gory mess. If not for your mother's magic, he would have won before Christmas. But, while fighting him might be suicide, there are his followers and those you can deal with. They have decades of experience over you, but they are not the brightest fellows. The Death Eaters toy with their victims, keep them alive while they rape their children and mothers, use curses which kill slowly. Tell me, Harry, how can you exploit that?"
The Gryffindor felt dread run down his spine and a cold lump form in his stomach upon hearing her words but began to think nonetheless. The Death Eaters were brutal and ruthless, but perhaps he could fool them with a trick.
"Uhm, maybe hold back at first and then exploit their overconfidence?"
"A solid plan with just one downside. You're dead," Andromeda in a nonchalant fashion completely unbefitting their topic. "Holding back allows them to dictate the engagement but you want to fight on your terms."
"So what do I do?"
"Either you run or you kill them before they kill you."
"But…"
"It is you or them. The best thing you can do when you see Death Eaters is sneak away before they can find you. You have a perfect invisibility cloak, far better than anything my family used to own. If they see you, just open fire. Throw your strongest curses at them and then keep casting. Now, most people would say that you are far too young for that kind of problem and that you should worry about getting someone in a broom closet, not about dark wizards. But the Death Eaters do not care how old you are. The Dark Lord tried to kill you when you were fifteen months old. You are the living proof of his failure. Anyone who wants to make a name for himself will try to kill you just for the bragging rights," the oldest Black sister said darkly before gently putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I am not trying to scare you, but at your age, I had forgotten more about the Dark Arts than most will ever learn. But I have needed that knowledge more often than I'd like to admit. The world is not a pretty place and I want to make sure you live long enough to enjoy the few spots of sunshine."
"Are we going to duel?" Harry wanted to know, eager to see how well he would fare. He remembered the green light from his dreams and also the Dementor induced memories from his parents' death. He was up against that and he needed to be able to do something because this time his mother could not sacrifice herself again. Seeing his aunt nod, the Gryffindor began to cast a stunning spell but before he even finished his incantation something heavy slammed into his stomach and he passed out.
"As you can see, this is not very useful. Before you can learn anything from a proper duel, you need to learn the basics. That's why I am going to teach you the blasting curse."
"Just the blasting curse? Don't I need to know more?"
"We will cover a shield spell eventually, but this week it will be blasting curses only. The wand motion is a simple downward slash like you would bring a sword or an axe down on somebody. The incantation is Bombarda and you want to visualise destruction, like an explosion or a wall being torn down."
"What about other curses?"
"Well, most of them are either far weaker than this one or require a lot more control over your magic than you have. Using just one charm makes you predictable, but you are still casting a spell that can cause significant damage and be lethal. You cannot simply deflect it into the ground around you because it will still explode there. It is one of the most effective combat spells because it is relatively easy to cast and does not wear out the caster like the higher arcane arts. Now, I want you to cast that spell until I tell you to stop. Aim at the floating orb and if you cast the spell correctly it will glow green."
Getting the spell to work was not particularly difficult but Andromeda was a ruthless taskmaster. Again and again, he had to cast until his arm was burning and his breath was ragged. After what seemed to be hours, she called the exercise off and pushed a glass of water into his limp hand.
"Not bad. But tomorrow the target will be moving."
The holidays began to fly by for Harry. Between training, going to the beach with his friends and doing all kinds of things with Dora, July changed into August. They went to see a movie once a week, ate an unhealthy amount of Florean Fortescue's ice cream and played football in the fields around Tonks Hill. His Aunt took him to work one day and after a tour of the production, Harry was shown the testing grounds on the Shetland Isles, where the company tested their products against each other in mock aerial combat above the North Sea. A few of the Muggleborn employees came up with the idea after watching a movie called Top Gun and rigged a few brooms with a runic array. It shot a series of colour-changing charms at a softball fitted to the tail, spurring both players to push their brooms to the limit. Once the ball went through all the colours of a rainbow, it turned black and the player was out. Harry, never being one to back away from a challenge, asked if he could try that.
He lost 3 to 7, which was still better than anyone not working at the range. But it was not good enough for him and so the man with the nickname "Maverick" decided to humour him again and again. After all, how often do you get to fly against Harry Potter and get paid for it?
AN:
Kinda filler-ish but I had to move the plot along and wrap up a couple of plot threads.
I really hate the whole "finding out about Horcruxes early on and then removing them before the inevitable graveyard fight" story arc so there'll be none of that here. It's just so cheap to have someone besides Dumbledore and Slughorn know about some of the Darkest Magic in existence and how to counter it. While Andromeda might have read the term once or twice there was neither a detailed description nor a how-to so she did not recognise the scar as one. And while we are on the topic, there won't be the whole graveyard resurrection scene in this fic. More on Voldemort's resurrection at the end of the fourth year. And as much as I want to claim that the skin-weaving potion from the 6th chapter was clever foreshadowing, I only thought about using it for Horcrux removal after bouncing ideas back and forth with AlsoKnownAsMatt. "But it can't be that easy, Dumbledore thought Harry had to take a killing curse for the team." Dumbledore (and everyone else) also acted like Horcruxes are a tool to be bulletproof, immune to Sarin, acids, swords, car crashes and the common cold. Which is bullshit, since in canon they make immortal, not invincible.
Dunkirk (Kent) - Inverness is a longer trip than Rochester - Bordeaux. So if Tonks can apparate from her home to Hogsmeade, then a trip to the beaches of France is certainly possible. Isy, short for Isabelle or Isabella, is pronounced "easy". So no, that's not a typo.
Having a fictional character being a fictional character in his universe can get a tad confusing but that's what the canon says. Also, Ollivander did not glorify Voldemort, that was simply Harry's objective impression. Andromeda's assessment regarding the brother wands is intentionally wrong since she is merely speculating. Just trying to keep the characters away from Mary/Gary Stu land. And while he is a good flyer, even the best at Hogwarts, Harry is not going to beat professionals at age 13 or 14.
