Chapter 2: Pros and Cons of Reckless Nature
Harry was feeling strange. Obviously, he had been following Voldemort but where was he now? He started panicking before calming himself and smiling widely so as to not scare the huge population of people right in front of him.
Okay, this isn't working.
Harry ducked into an alleyway and closed his eyes. He meditated for a minute before Hedwig landed on his shoulder. Much better now.
He noticed that his robes were really loose and used his wand to adjust them to his body after promising himself that he will check what the hell was going wrong. He stopped in between and thought in a panic.
He was in the muggle world, he had to find out what is happening.
He quickly removed his dragon-hide robes and tossed them aside before shrinking them so he could fit them in his pocket. He then searched his attire. It looked a bit strange and medieval, so he thought of a way to change them.
He conjured a coat and then looked into a puddle before backpedalling. He drew in calming breaths, why was he panicking so much today?
He looked fifteen, almost sixteen, but much more healthier and rugged than he had ever been. It was like somebody had forcibly magicked a permanent youth potion into his body and made him half as young as he was. Obviously, youth potions were always temporary but he didn't look like he did at fifteen, and that was one of the things a youth potion did. It made you look as you were, just younger.
He knew that because that's how he raided one of the mansions that were controlled by Voldemort's followers.
Harry transfigured a piece of a pebble into a mirror and looked that he indeed looked fifteen, just a whole healthier. His hair was not as greasy and shorter, his eyes more dull and dark, not as innocent as they were. He also had a scar running down his neck and he looked taller and stronger than he ever was.
He needed to find out as soon as possible what is going on.
He peeked out of the alleyway and quickly walked out after using a 'Finite' on the mirror to turn it back into a mirror. That's when it struck him.
He could get a wand of his own, now! His Holly and Phoenix feather wand was destroyed accidentally by Ginny and he had to use Arthur Weasley's wand from then on. Now, he could buy his own wand, if there was a Wizarding World was existing like the numerous muggles.
He had a theory all of a sudden. The old world had no one and was dying, so Voldemort tried to open up a portal to a different universe, like the portal to summon demons.
Hedwig flew away from his shoulder and sat on a tree, to hide sneakily and give a message when Harry was in danger, nobody expects Hedwig.
He started walking and was hit by a sense of nostalgia. He had roamed these streets before and he knew where Diagon Alley was. He soon found himself outside it.
He hit his eyes with a Notice-Me-Not Charm, a glamour was easier to notice and he did want to be noticed as a whole, but he didn't want to be recognised. Black hair was much more common than green eyes and therefore, he put the charm on them.
He walked into the Leaky Cauldron and not paying attention to the chaos in the pub, he walked outside, it wouldn't do to cry in the public after seeing so many of them killed.
Harry felt horrible and nervous but he kept up a bored face with a puzzled smile as if he was a teenager whose mother had sent him to get some Potions' ingredients for her. He walked outside and noticed the colourful Diagon Alley, he forced himself to not just gaze at it in awe. It was a graveyard, the last time he had seen it, with inferi, ghosts and gravestones. Sometimes, Voldemort did rituals here, to talk with demons, devils and monsters.
Harry hid a frown and walked into Flourish and Blotts, to check the 'Daily Newspaper' section which held many copies of the Daily Prophet, some regional newspapers and the Quibbler as well as numerous pamphlets and magazines.
Harry picked up a Daily Prophet and checked the date. He hadn't touched a newspaper in weeks, if not months.
16th August 1994.
Harry's eyes widened as he saw, on the Front Page, an article about the Quidditch World Cup between Wales and Bulgaria. 'What the hell?' Harry thought as he touched 'Wales' on the paper.
He put it down and walked deeper into the shop, determined to see what is happening. He walked into the History section, where he had some fond memories of Hagrid looking everywhere to find 'A History of Magic' by Bathilda Bagshot on his first trip here.
After that, he had only come here once with Hermione and Ron when he was fifteen and needed to buy a book on international history in his OWL year. It was the last of his peaceful days with Ron and Hermione. He missed them.
Anyway, when he was fifteen, a list was set up so that anyone can look up the books in this area since there were many books in this section. Wizards and Witches love traditions and history a lot.
There was a list here too.
Since Bagshot's book covered all the major topics in history, which were including, but not limited to, the nineteen Goblin-Wizard Wars before the Founding of Hogwarts, the War between Great Britain and France against Bulgaria and Sweden, the Treaty of Peace and the Foundation of ICW, the Founding of the Americas, the forty-nine wars between the Goblins and Wizards after that, the Non-Hostile Agreement of Gringott, the Witch Hunts and the Implementation of the Internation Statue of Secrecy.
Since after that everything was more peaceful, Bagshot had left off at that but put in some interesting and recent conflicts like the War with Grindelwald and Voldemort, and the Civil War in Great Britain during the 1680s a few years after the British Ministry of Magic was established. There were also a few laws that every citizen should know which were written in such a fashion that Binns would have been more interesting.
Harry immediately noted that Bathilda Bagshot had not written one but five books, each with a seven-hundred-year time period covered, meaning that there was no sign of 'A History of Magic'. There were also a couple of ancient history books which Harry had read in his third year after he had met Florean Fortescue.
He picked up the most recent book by Bathilda Bagshot and opened it up. He immediately went into the last few chapters in which Bagshot had summarised every five-hundred-year period in 'A History of Magic'. And there it was and while it wasn't exactly like he had experienced, it was there, a chapter dedicated to every century and a page to summarise it after, Harry liked that.
His theory of an alternate reality was seeming more and more likely as he read on. With Grindelwald starting the war a year later than it was and then ending it a decade later, making the ICW pass on many internationally agreed laws that were both progressive and radical for that time.
The more negative views of muggles and the revolts by Grindelwald's previous generals were interesting as well. The weaker standing of France and Greece as well as the fact that Italy was called Rome in magical circles was even more interesting.
He checked upon the major powers in the magical world and was a little unsurprised to see that Denmark was on top, with Norway and then the Netherlands following them. He had expected one of the Scandanavian countries. As he moved down the list, it was a bit usual but not too surprising: Denmark, Norway, Netherlands, Canada, Switzerland, Australia, China, Luxemburg, Egypt and Romania.
Now, this place was more accepting yet more militaristic. Voldemort was treated more as a huge rebellion to create a Civil War than a major War in Western Europe. But Great Britain still badly suffered from it as seen by the 24th position on the 'Major Powers' list in the back section of Bagshot's book (published in 1987).
Harry closed the book and walked out of the store, he knew that this was a different universe now. The Minister of Magic was Barty Crouch Sr for Merlin's sake!
He kept on walking and then entered a dark side alley where he hid and started calming himself down. It was 1994, and Voldemort was in this universe along with the native Voldemort. This was trouble.
As he was done, he checked his money pouch. It was still full, there was no need for money in a dying world. Maybe he could go to Gringotts and open his own vault?
'No', immediately the word went up in his mind. The Goblins in his world were already hostile enough but this world's would be more hostile and corrupt. There was a Goblin Revolt in 1893 in opposition to the one in 1721 in his world, relations would be worse in this world despite more laws to protect them from discrimination. The wounds were still not closed.
While the Non-Hostile Agreement of Gringott was usually followed, Goblin Revolts happened a lot after it, almost every five years, a decade at most. It dropped off quickly in his world with revolts quickly spreading out decades between but this world, it didn't happen and the last revolt ended with the Peace Treaty of Hogsmeade in early 1894.
A wand.
He will get a wand.
But then he shook his head, this world had a Harry Potter too. Probably.
There was no mention in Bagshot's books and he had no way of knowing. It was one of the things he liked the old woman for, who was still alive in his old world somehow, she just couldn't understand how people perceived a single person and it sometimes reminded him of Luna Lovegood.
Harry went back into the bookshop, he needed to do something or else the fact that there were two Voldemorts would just send him looking for them, he needed the wand so as to have a proper weapon, Arthur Weasley was too different from him, and wandless magic was only useable when relaxing but not while fighting, it took a lot of focus and Harry did not like to lose the perception of everything just to focus on one thing.
He walked back into the History section and searched for a while, it really was a good thing that this section was really unpopular. He didn't like going through books when he could be doing something else, he knew that, but what else could he do?
After what felt like a long time, which it probably was, he found a book explaining the aftereffects of Voldemort's attacks into the next decade, which included a government that wanted to know everything about its citizens, a proactive country that was really suspicious and paranoid of strangers and general hate against killing someone.
Harry finally found where he was mentioned.
He read to himself, 'As we all know, The Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, was attacked by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named on Halloween of 1981, which lead to the Dark Lord going missing. Harry Potter's-'
"Godfather? Sirius was killed? What?! How?!" Harry quietly muttered to himself. Sirius was dead in this world, but- no, he couldn't be killed. Sirius cannot.
A decade-old memory popped up of Harry screaming as blood spilt all over him through his scar as he watched through Voldemort's eyes. He was chained to the wall and-
Harry took in a deep breath.
The result of that had been Harry being permanently injured. The scar had expanded to the point that it practically radiated Dark Magic, so much that Unspeakables showed up. They had kidnapped Harry and did some spells on him, he only vaguely remembered a gruff man whispering about dumb brats that don't understand when they are being killed.
He had spent months there before he had gotten a chance to run away. He had run away to France and met Hedwig there, he didn't contact anyone. There, he had noticed that his right eye looked just like Moody's. He had only felt rage and had practically started doing any spell that he can.
It was years after that he had found a way to cure himself. It was a Potion and Harry made it for himself. It took more than a year and more than a few explosions but he had finally made the Potion, sure it was more green than blue but he drank it anyway.
And it was just yesterday.
Harry involuntarily chuckled. In for an eye and decrease to below the age of consent. Harry wondered if his reduced age was a result of that thing. It probably was.
Harry looked at the book and muttered, "I hate you, you useless little thing." and threw it where he had left it, he walked out of the store with only being noticed by the owner who looked confused at Harry's scowl.
Harry walked back to muggle London through the Leaky Cauldron and started walking in a random direction, Hedwig following behind him. What should he do? What can he do?
Harry kept walking, deep in thought when he felt he was about to crash into someone and immediately dodged the person just to slightly slip before standing back up.
"Sorry!" Harry said quickly to the man who just frowned and returned the apology, the two already parting ways again. The brown-haired man kept walking, whistling to himself, but paying more attention to his path this time.
His hair looked familiar but Harry just shrugged and continued to wander through the city alone. He went back to his thinking but this time, he was in a cafe and drinking some tea.
He can trace the native Voldemort, who was probably between Albania and Great Britain at the moment, most likely having just reached into Britain.
A faint sentence that he had heard years before suddenly reminded Harry.
Viktor Krum proudly said in English, though he had a Bulgarian accent, "I bought the wand at 'Gregorovitch Zauberstäbe', he occasionally moves his shop since many Dark Wizards want powerful wands, but he is always in European Mainland. Gergorovitch is very good at making wands, probably the best."
Harry and Krum had been fighting Death Eaters after he had once come to meet Hermione and they were all attacked, Viktor had almost died and he did lose an ear still. Viktor and the Bulgarians died attacking Voldemort a few years later.
A Death Eater had tried to break the wand but wasn't able to, Viktor had punched the man in the gut and stolen his wand back before explaining why was it so strong.
Harry can go to Gregorovitch to buy a wand.
Harry shook his head.
Why was he even obsessed with getting a wand when he already had a wand that worked for him?
Oh, right, Harry remembered, it didn't work well for him. Slower, calmer and less powerful, it was a wand only for the man Harry knew as Arthur Weasley, the kind man who can never be angered except when his family is in danger, including when he was dying painfully under torture.
Harry closed his eyes as Arthur Weasley's hollow eyes and his calm smile came before him, he tried to calm himself. It took a while.
Harry never liked to think of the dead, he felt quite guilty that he couldn't save the people he liked and loved, all the innocents died and he couldn't do anything. He knew he wasn't to blame but the anger that he had turned into an immortal inferno, hidden underneath his calm exterior, bursting out like a volcano at times.
Harry had to get a new wand and turn it into his best weapon, it will be better to have another wand if Arthur's wand got lost, and anyway, he cannot control the wand, it allowed him to only take revenge or it just doesn't listen to Harry, which he respected a lot.
Honestly, it felt strange to Harry that his best friends were a wand and an owl but he liked that anyway, it made him feel good that he was still capable of having friends.
Harry emptied his cup and paid for his tea, then stood up and quietly walked out of the cafe to see how he was going to Germany. Harry knew that the country was its most peaceful that year and surely, it couldn't be any different here, right?
Harry closed his eyes and beat that part of his mind into a corner, he wasn't supposed to be reckless, honestly, he was wasting his time.
'Make a plan, make a plan, make a plan . . .' Harry continued to think as he chanted subconsciously in his mind, trying to figure out what to do with his life. That was the main problem, he had nothing to do but kill Voldemort and stop this new war from starting but he didn't have the tools to do so.
Harry wanted to blame Dumbledore because he hadn't prepared him but couldn't do so, the old man for all his faults had managed to get Harry a peaceful lie when he was probably the happiest than he had ever been.
Harry walked out and continued walking, he should probably apparate to Dover and then to France before apparating his way through Europe to find the old retired wandmaker.
_
Harry walked down the road, his hands clenched and his clothes a bit rough and crinkly. He had to stop at a muggle store to buy some clothes after the clothes he was wearing had gotten him strange looks in France.
He did not like that he was practically vulnerable but at least he could understand basic French after days of travelling through the country, not that any of the French people he met were friendly. Oh, some were polite enough and others friendly, a few were even helpful enough to teach him how their place was, but many were scowling at him as they looked down his rumpled and cheap clothes, and his messy hair.
Granted, he was travelling through unsavoury parts but the French wizards he had met were way more friendly.
Harry had crossed through France in a day and had slept during the first few hours of the next day after reaching Switzerland. It had exhausted him to do this but a new wand was invaluable before crossing his path and facing the world against Voldemort.
Voldemort was skilled and cunning, and though he was also arrogant and crazy, he could analyze and sense the magic thrown at him and adapt considerably well. It had taken Harry years to get skilful enough to stand toe to toe with the Dark Lord and he couldn't defeat him still.
Dumbledore could do this at the moment but he was getting older, he was also too honourable and noble to do dirty tricks against the sneaky Dark Lord. Dumbledore was also too set in his ways, and no matter that he defeated Grindelwald, that man was also like Dumbledore just as much as he wasn't. Grindelwald and Dumbledore had different ideologies, powers and morality but all their qualities were the same.
Harry had met Grindelwald once and had respected his determined mindset and strategic brain, Ron had questioned him to know more about Voldemort's moves and then they had killed the man so as to not let him be a danger anymore.
Anyway, Harry had passed through Switzerland easily and had just reached Liechtenstein to search for Gregorovitch, he was sure that the retired wandmaker was either in this country or in Austria, though Luxembourg was an option as well. Gregorovitch disliked Germany due to having seen the muggles during the 1940s and he did not like coastlines very much due to his well-known fear of water.
He knew that Gregorovitch was born in one of the German-speaking countries in 1839, he was one of the longest-lived people in the magical world, older than even Dumbledore by almost half a century. So, he thought to look in one of the countries where the German languages were commonly spoken in the general public, and hence, he was here.
As he paced through the roads, he noticed the architecture and immediately liked the calm atmosphere in the small town he was in. He was not even fully into the cities and he liked the country!
Though that was not shocking, he liked architecture a lot as well as calming atmospheres, he did not like cities, for this reason, too much noise. But for some reason, he cannot imagine himself living alone in the countryside after everything is over, he would most likely be alone in a small apartment in a city with a noise-suppressing ward to make sure that only a few sounds can come in. He would be alone and yet he would be not, that would be his ideal home.
These thoughts made him not panic and that was all he needed.
He hummed a little inaudible song to himself as he turned a corner, the cloudy sky let most of the sunlight in somehow, and he liked that for some reason, it was a good day.
Almost as soon as he thought this, he bumped into a man. He said almost immediately, "I am so so sorry!"
He might not know German the best but he could converse with common folk okay enough to pass by as a tourist who liked the country.
The man growled out, "Foolish boy! Where are your parents?!"
Harry helped the man stand up to see that the man had diminishing grey hair which was blonde at its roots and light brown eyes. He looked like a stern grandfather who mostly lived alone and had the stature of one as well. He looked to be in his early eighties as well.
Harry handed him his cane and the man said sternly, "Listen here, young man, keep your head on the road while walking and not in the clouds."
Harry gave a sheepish smile and said again, "I am really sorry, sir."
The man then gave a small smile and said, "Don't worry, do not, my great-grandson was like you, always planning mischief of all sorts with a head full of ideas."
Harry smiled politely and said, "Thank you, sir."
"Oh, no worries. It is always nice to see so many polite young men nowadays, when I was a small boy, my peers were really arrogant children!"
Harry nodded and then immediately came up with a plan. Maybe this man knows if Gregorivitch is in the city, he certainly seems to have lived here a lot. So, not wasting time, Harry lied, "Sir, you see, I am new to the town. I had come with some friends on this trip and we really like to know about history but I have lost them now, they are also having our map. We had heard there was an antique shop that we wanted to see. I think it's called-"
The old man narrowed his eyes momentarily but then didn't, he quickly interrupted, "My boy, did you mean 'Gregorovitch Antike Artikel'?"
Harry nodded, happy to have found the right place in the first guess. It had been a tiring journey to travel through.
The old man smiled fakely and demanded, "Who are you?"
Harry looked at the tall man in shock but the old man just continued, "I have just closed the shop and haven't seen anyone roaming around the area when I left. Who are you, boy?"
Harry's eyes widened in shock and he said, "You are Gregorovitch?"
The man gave a small laugh and said, "What? Did you expect someone more fragile and feebler due to my age? My wife's family has been in the healing and potions business for a long time, which has resulted in a stronger me, boy. Now, who are you? Tell me, quick. These old bones still know how to pack a punch."
Harry sighed and answered, "My name is Harry."
The man frowned and said sternly, "Do you take me for a fool? Tell me your full name."
Now, Harry was in a quandary. He wanted to get his wand but he didn't want to tell his full name. The Potters were alive and well with Harry Potter being a normal child but with a title, how could he tell that he belonged to a family as famous as that?
The worst fact was that he couldn't even lie. He knew he had seen a book on European Family Lines written by a Gregorovitch which was written in the past five years. This man clearly knew family names and Harry looked nothing if not European.
He could call himself a muggleborn but then he shouldn't have known about Gregorovitch since he had retired six years ago due to history not keeping a track of wandmakers for students as young as he looked.
He also knew that Gregorovitch only suspected him because he had mentioned friends. Else he could have gone and . . . and then what? He would have been in the same confrontation but in a less secure spot since the old man must have had some wards there.
Harry cursed his short-sightedness and then decided to say, "If you give me a secrecy vow, I will tell you." It was probably not well-thought and would probably put him in danger but screw it, he needed a wand.
Gregorovitch looked at Harry with a raised eyebrow and then said, "Do you think of me as an idiot, boy? Why would I want to hide your illegal activities from the Aurors?"
"What illegal activities, old man?" Granted, rudely talking to him wasn't a smart thing but Harry never had any illusions of being smart.
The old man frowned and said, "How else would you have found me? I have no paper trail, nor do I have any sign of being here. You must have used illegal means."
Harry chuckled and said, "Magical folks assume a lot. I did not do anything illegal. It is a known fact that you live in Continental Europe and are mainly in countries that acknowledge German as an official language. It is also known that you like being in an obscure place and that you do not like going to Germany. I just went from Britain to France to Switzerland and then reached Liechtenstein. I just randomly crashed into you here, else I would have gone to another place."
Gregorovitch looked at Harry in surprise and then fully scowled, he grumbled, "You think of this as a joke, boy?"
"You are a joke if you think I think you are a joke."
"What?"
Harry smirked innocently while the old man's scowl deepened. The man was already pissed so Harry didn't have any restraints and just left himself free.
"What do you want?"
"I just want a wand and didn't want to buy from Ollivander."
Gregorovitch's eyes widened and he said sceptically, "You went through countries just for a wand? Kid, you could have gone to Chandler Martin, Wand Wood Expert. He could have cheaply gotten you a wand."
Harry, in hindsight, should have checked other wandmakers before going on a chase after the hardest to find, but since he just wanted to waste time and get a wand, it didn't matter much. He said, "I only know of two wandmakers, you and Ollivander."
Gregorovitch looked resigned and then sighed before asking suddenly, "Kid, do you know perhaps know Albus Dumbledore?"
"Yeah, so?"
The old man, Mykew Gregorovitch, just said, "He had his second wand made from me the same way, just before he went after Gellert Grindelwald to defeat him. At the time, Ollivander wasn't that famous."
Harry said, "So . . . ?"
Mykew sighed and said, "Just tell me why you are here and then I will."
"The secrecy vow, old man."
_
"Come with me, brat."
Harry followed Mykew through the streets, Gregorovitch was still a quick man, despite being as old as he is. The man could have seriously made you doubt his age.
Even if the vow the man had taken had subtle clauses that would allow him to betray if he wanted, Harry had decided to play dumb. Better to have an unaware enemy than a forced friend, he had decided.
As soon as they reached the shop which looked abandoned and shabby from the outside, a ripple of magic passed through Harry and immediately he could see a much cleaner place, some sort of shop Ollivander would have loved if he was a Viking and an author at the same time.
Something told Harry that this wandmaker liked books as much he liked his antique weapon collection.
Mykew turned to Harry and said, "Tell me."
It was not a surprise that Harry knew the old man's doubts even if they weren't worded, clearly due to the fact that Harry had come across him. So, Harry told him everything. Well, not everything, but a vague version of the whole thing, no need to try and get arrested by Unspeakables, which could have happened if given enough suspicions. This man will do that just so those cloaked idiots can try and save the future while ruining it.
Harry had the knowledge and he knew where to use it, the Unspeakables will just not bother to correctly figure everything out, tip Voldemort off and accidentally blow Australia into space (Thank You, Hermione).
Mykew had a good neutral face but Harry had learnt to read faces after the fourth time he fell for a Polyjuice trap by Voldemort and his cronies. The man's lips were quivering a little, turning down at their sides, his eyes were a bit glazed as if remembering something and his fists were clenched so hard that veins were throbbing in his hands.
The man was angry.
Gregorovitch asked Harry in a serious voice after the younger one finished, "You tell the truth, brat?"
Harry nodded slowly and blinked, he hadn't realised that he had lost focus of his surroundings, even if he hadn't mentioned any names of people close to him, he loved the Wizarding World, despite it being run by old men that had the sanity of a duck and maturity of Fred Weasley at his most immature moment, not to mention they were more likely to kill themselves than recognise an open assault on their lives.
Gregorovitch sighed and his voice cracked as he spoke, "I will make you a wand. Stay the night, we will need to figure out what you will do."
Harry's head turned sharply, he hadn't predicted this and was confused. He asked, "What do you mean, old man?"
"Even if this Voldy is a danger, he isn't the cause of the problem but a symptom. Your mission is to get rid of people like him and for that, you need allies and friends. This is not a military conflict, kid, I know what those are, this is a full-on war, political, physical, magical and mental, every aspect is in a battle." The old man explained, his voice weary as if remembering something terrible that he had done.
Harry hadn't expected that, but it made sense somehow. He was revolting against a regime that had nothing but fights in them, but now, he had to change the world and its people. Even if he only wanted to kill Voldemort, he knew he couldn't do so. He remembered the face Ron made as he laughed to death and how Neville had left him a note about how brave he felt fighting.
If he had to sacrifice himself so that doesn't happen, he will do so in a single blink. Even if he dies.
As if reading his thoughts, he heard a 'hoot'.
"Hedwig."
Hedwig hooted softly as if saying that he should not have left her to hunt rats when he was meeting old men in a strange country. He said, "You were hungry, girl."
Mykew spoke suddenly, "I do not like owls, brat, get her out of here as soon as you can." And with that, he turned and entered the back room of the building.
Hedwig hooted indignantly at the receding back of the old wandmaker, Harry just snorted before saying to his friend, "Don't worry, Hed, we will be leaving this place soon. If I remember correctly, there is a Quidditch World Cup back home."
Hedwig, who, like Harry, was a big fan of Quidditch (Honestly, even Hermione started to like it after a while), hooted happily. They hadn't seen a good match for ages and this one will be a brilliant one.
Harry grinned and Hedwig shared the sentiment before hooting brightly and taking off into the sky, her friend looking at her with a great deal of elation.
That night, Gregorovitch and Harry talked of his plans. Harry said, "I wanted to wait the year out before going to catch Voldemort's physical body and then searching for my version of him. Trap him and then kill him, you see."
Mykew nodded and then said, "It would have been a decent plan, however amateur it is, but since we have decided to remove the bigots from power, you will have to get allies. And, for that, you will need a name."
Harry nodded, understanding what was said. He told the man, "I thought of going as a Peverell but then immediately left the thought. It has been confirmed for centuries that all Peverells merged into either the Gaunts or the Potters. But I do not have any other name that can help with political connections."
Mykew asked, "Do you even know politics, brat?"
Harry said, "Of course not, I have fought in blunt battles. I do know to be observing and diplomatic at times which can help. I also have a relatively less reckless mood when I have a goal. Is that okay, old man?"
Mykew thought for a second and then said, "You have poor skills but so do most people, including me. Try to get better some way or another, I guess. Also, I know a person who doesn't have a child, he is a Pureblood bigot of a better kind, even if he is still a snob. He is also on his death bed, can die any day now, and would do anything for his name to continue. He is also Irish, which can help a bit."
Harry asked curiously, "Who is he?"
Gregorovitch said calmly, "Caractacus Burke's only son, Herbert, had two sons and a daughter. Only his youngest son is alive at the moment though, leaving him as the last one in his family, and now, he has contracted a deadly disease I learnt of from my great-great-granddaughter, Irene, his healer. The man's mad to get a boy to continue his name."
Harry asked again, "Why did you have to explain me all of that?"
Mykew answered, "Just so you have some background information, brat. You should know that since someone can ask you that, Burkes did no favour to themselves after getting themselves messed up with Grindelwald. This man, Andronicus, didn't do any favours by getting hit with an infertility hex."
Harry snorted, "Idiot."
"Indeed, boy, indeed."
