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Harry Potter Squib Tales Chapter 61: In Vino Veritas
🕑 Added 2024-12-30 17:01:03 +0000 UTCChapter 61: In Vino Veritas
Despite Harry and Sirius taking up a lot more time than I’d expected in the broom store, we still managed to see two of the other magical districts according to the schedule. That just left the remaining two for another day.
The other streets had been less impressive than Dragon Street. Less interestingly named, too. Wand Street and Star Street, respectively. Wand Street had been where they sold a lot of magical items, mostly basic things ranging from enchanted trunks to dinner plates that’d been given the Repairing enchantment so they immediately fixed themselves if they broke.
It had also had a large antique shop filled with all sorts of junk, both magical and mundane. I’d found a lamp made from a bowling pin that had been enchanted to fall over whenever you dropped something, and a Polaroid camera that, when it took pictures, removed a person’s make-up.
As for Star Street, that was where the offices for the city’s magical government were located. It also had the offices for large magical businesses. The local branch of Witch Weekly was located on Star Street, alongside a few others I recognized. Including a branch of the Greengrass’ trading business.
We’d explored the area thoroughly, and even gone walking around the non-magical side of things. We’d eaten beignets for snacks and endured the heat and humidity with the help of Cooling charms. It was a lot of fun!
As we returned to the Ruby Manor for the evening by riding a magical carriage, I was silently thinking about what I knew about Magical America. Learning about it hadn’t been easy, but I’d found out enough to get a good grasp of the situation.
The Magical side of the U.S. was vastly different to what it used to be. The Fantastical Beasts series had depicted magical America (known as MaCUSA, or Magical Confederation of the United States of America) pre-World War 2 as a place even more restrictive and repressive than Magical England. You couldn’t even marry a Muggle, and Magical children born of Muggles were basically kidnapped from their families and raised completely isolated in the magical world!
It was all true. That was how it used to be. And it was this last thing that led to a revolution of sorts.
See, it all happened when, after World War 2, a lot of veterans of the European Front came back home and married their sweethearts and produced the infamous Baby Boomer generation.
And boy did these veterans make babies. Lots of babies. And while the magical community still argues a lot about the cause of magical children born to muggle couples – either due to magical contamination in one or both partners, or being descended from a Squib, or even just random chance – the data showed that more magical children were born after World War 2 in the U.S. than at any other time in recorded history.
Literally thousands of them, and what did the MaCUSA do? Well, they did as they always did; kidnap the babies as soon as they showed magical talent, and Obliviated the families. Of course, the magical government was unprepared to find homes for the sheer number of babies being made, and they were quickly overwhelmed, forced to bind the magic of many children simply to keep up. In the end, most ended up in hastily established magical orphanages.
Now, a lot of these veterans whose children had been stolen had also experienced at least one magical wound during their stint overseas. The Knights of Walpurgis and the lesser known (but still incredibly evil) Thule Society had used magic in a lot of different ways to try and aide the Nazis in securing victory. While most of the magical battlefields were separate from the mundane ones, there was still plenty of cross-contamination, and the GIs came home saturated with all sorts of magic, from the residue of curses, to memory loss from Obliviators, to the dregs of shattered wards.
And some of these men? Well, their time in Europe had given them a sort of pseudo-magical resistance, due to all the magic they’d encountered. And it resulted in their Obliviations wearing off. And boy, were they pissed when they realized that their children had been stolen from them. Throughout the fifties and sixties, these men hunted down every scrap of information on the magical world they could find. They learned about each other, and formed groups. In the shadows, they spread as they learned that they couldn’t trust their government. Not when the magicals could just Obliviate left and right. Or worse.
Yet despite the best efforts of the magical world, these angry fathers found out everything. Some Squibs squealed when hunted down, and a few sympathetic witches and wizards helped as well. The veil was falling.
And then, some of the ‘orphans’ – many of whom were now in their teens or older – discovered they had actual families, and they secretly met up with their long-lost parents and siblings. More and more, the magical world lost its hold on those it had wronged.
In the late sixties and early seventies, a revolution was planned. The children who’d been kidnapped were not happy at all at their treatment. Most of them had lived in orphanages because of the incompetence and bigotry of the MaCUSA and were generally treated poorly due to their Muggleborn status. This anger boiled over, and they made plans with each other and their families, who also wanted vengeance.
And then, in 1974, on Christmas Day, these young, angry rebels assaulted the MaCUSA government building, holding it hostage. It had been surprisingly easy, from what I read. Many of the ‘orphans’ had graduated from magical schooling by that point, and had joined the Confederation in any way possible. Janitors, interns, whatever job they could get, they took. Some of the older ones even became secretaries and aides, worming their way deep into the corrupt government. For years they did this, watching and learning, and when they struck, they did so swiftly and violently.
The old MaCUSA crumbled in a day. The Governor of the MaCUSA along with a majority of the Council (MaCUSA’s version of the Wizengamot) was arrested, the aurors who didn’t join in on the revolt were detained, and anyone who had participated in the kidnappings was captured as well. By New Year’s Day of 1975, a whole new government had been installed, one that was made up of the young rebels and the few older sympathetic witches and wizards who’d helped them.
Naturally, this stunned magical communities the world over. Ever since the Statute of Secrecy, most of the member states of the International Confederation of Wizardry had been run by Purebloods, or at the very least, witches and wizards who were aligned with a conservative ideology. Not to mention, none of the magical nations had really changed. They were the same now as they had been centuries ago.
Now, the new MaCUSA had overturned that by being almost entirely run by Muggleborns. Then, they went even further by trying and sentencing the old government’s members. Ninety percent of upper and middle-ranked officials were found guilty of crimes against humanity, and stripped of their magic, had their wands snapped, or were exiled. A few were even outright executed!
This resulted in the current MaCUSA being quite liberal compared to the rest of the magical world, and extremely different compared to the other magical nations of the world. For example, the MaCUSA realized how damaging it was to have two different monetary systems, and did the unthinkable; they threw out the Goblin run banks and forced the magical side to accept dollars and cents from the Muggle world.
The Goblins had of course threatened to go to war over this, but American magicals had basically replied, ‘Oh, yeah? Then come and get some.’ This stunned the Goblins, and they had actually backed off. As warlike as they may have been, the Goblins hadn’t actually had a war with humanity since a century before the Statue of Secrecy, and were apparently greatly diminished to the point another war would have likely seen their extinction. Even four hundred years after their last war and they still hadn’t recovered to the point they could risk fighting the breakaway nations of magical North America.
This wasn’t the only change. Magical beings like Veela, dwarves, leprechauns, werewolves, hags and others who the Old World magicals considered Sub-Humans and mere beasts, were welcomed and given full rights in the new MaCUSA. Werewolves for instance were cared for and seen as people with a medical condition, not monsters, and apparently the Native American shamans (a bunch of tribes had survived the Muggle purges and violence by hiding in the magical world) knew of several ways to treat Lycanthropy. Couldn’t cure it, sadly, but there were ways to tame the beast that didn’t need expensive potions.
By all accounts, the current MaCUSA was my kind of place. Here, the old families had little to no power, and the bigotry of the old regime was a thing of the past. Two decades later, things were still quite young and in the Honeymoon phase, but I had a lot of hopes that there was a way this kind of thinking would lead the way forward for the rest of the world. Or, at the very least, outlast the stagnation that was killing the rest of the magical world.
‘However, just because I like the place doesn’t mean I know enough to take advantage of it,’ I thought to myself. ‘And there are probably a lot of rules and restrictions I can’t work around, unlike back in England.’
When the Newbloods, as the MaCUSA’s revolutionary government called itself, had taken over, they had tightened some restrictions on magic use but loosened them in other areas. Loopholes in the law were closed that allowed Purebloods certain privileges, but there were still a few that probably existed.
This meant that doing business with the MaCUSA was probably going to be difficult for me. They would likely notice if I was doing anything with magic, like what I was doing with my potions and alchemical recycling.
‘I’ll have to keep my business here in the States purely mundane,’ I decided after thinking it over. ‘That would be safer.’
“Hey, Ed, you okay?” Harry asked, watching me in worry, and I glanced over at him.
“Yeah, you’ve got a heavy look on your face,” Sirius added.
“Just thinking heavy thoughts,” I replied with a weak chuckle.
“Well, stop that. We’re on vacation, aren’t we? Let’s live it up a little!” Sirius exclaimed, reaching over and slapping me on the back.
“Oof,” I grunted, wincing a little at the slap, but I grinned a bit as well. “Alright, I’ll try.”
“Great! Now, when we get home, we’re gonna eat some dinner, and then you and me are gonna go out on the town!” Sirius told me, and I blinked in surprise.
“We’re what?”
“This is New Orleans, isn’t it? Remus and I looked up about the place. Those Muggle brochures said the city has a lot of fancy bars, right? So that’s what we’re gonna do!”
“What about Harry?” I asked.
“He’ll be fine. The maids can look after him,” Sirius waved off my concern.
I glanced at Harry, and he looked back, nodding. “Yeah, it’s okay, Ed. You two need to do some things together. Besides, I have some summer homework to finish so I can do that tonight. Don’t worry.”
“Alright, then,” I nodded, turning to Sirius. “You wanna hit up the Muggle side of things, or see what wizards in New Orleans drink?”
“Let’s head back to Dragon Street for tonight,” Sirius decided. “If we’re going to get wasted, I want to do so in a place where nobody will care if I end up drunk-casting.”
“Fair enough,” I replied with a shrug.
A few minutes later we arrived at the Ruby Manor, and found Carlotta waiting for us at the gate.
“Welcome back. We have prepared dinner,” she informed us as we exited the carriage.
“Thank you, that’s very kind,” I said.
“Of course, it is our job,” Carlotta stated simply, leading us into the mansion.
“You’re welcome to eat with us,” I said. “The offer is extended to the rest of the household as well.”
“Perhaps another night,” she said, declining the offer. “What are your plans for after dinner?”
“Sirius and I will be returning to Dragon Street for a bit of drinking,” I said. “Can you watch over Harry, make sure he does his homework properly?”
I saw Harry roll his eyes at me out of the corner of the vision, and Carlotta smirked and nodded.
“Of course. We’ll take care of it. Now, please wash up before heading into the secondary dining room.”
We did as she instructed, and after cleaning our hands, went to the smaller, more private dining room.
There, we were served many plates of delicious looking food, as well as meeting the chef who worked for the Ruby Manor. He was a portly, middle-aged African-American man, and a native of New Orleans.
“My family has served the Flamels for centuries,” he cheerfully explained as he laid out the food with a wave of his wand. “In fact, my ancestor was a slave they freed and hired to work within this manor after it was built.”
“That’s incredible,” I said, impressed, and he smiled proudly.
“Thank you. My brother is the Chauffeur, so if you need him to take you anywhere tomorrow, let him know. It’s his job, after all,” the chef chuckled.
“This food looks amazing,” Harry said as he looked at what was being served. There were British dishes mixed in with rest of the food, and we began to help ourselves.
“I made some familiar food for you tonight, but I added some local specialties as well,” the chef said. “Eating too many foreign foods when you’re not used to them can cause your stomach to have issues.”
“Smart,” Sirius hummed as he served himself some Beef Wellington. “So, how long has your family had magic?”
“A few generations, now,” the chef replied. “One of my great-great-grandparents married a Squib, and the magic manifest down the line in his offspring. It’s stayed with us ever since. But, uh, maybe don’t ask that question to every mage you meet. Some might find it offensive.”
“Thank you for the warning. I take it you studied at Ilvermony, then?” I asked, and the chef nodded.
“Of course. You’d be hard pressed to find somebody around here who didn’t.”
I was interested in hearing more about the premiere magical school of North America, but right now, my rumbling tummy convinced me it was time to chow down.
“Thank you for the food,” I said as I tucked in.
“It’s my job,” he chuckled. “But the thanks are still welcome. And call me Jumbo.”
“That’s not your real name, is it?” Harry asked, squinting suspiciously, and Jumbo laughed.
“Nah, but it’s what everyone calls me.”
After dinner, which had been delicious and not too heavy, Sirius and I left the house, and caught a cab to Bourbon Street. Then, we slipped into Dragon Street using the ghost-filled blacksmithy.
Once there, Sirius led us to one of the nearest bars. The Black had an uncanny ability to know where the best drinking holes were located. Not too shabby, but still cheap with a decent selection. No idea how he did it, but he’d shown off this ability back in London and it never failed to impress.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked us as we slid into stools at the bar.
“Surprise me!” Sirius requested.
“Same,” I requested. “But make it fruity.”
“Gotcha,” the bartender nodded, waving his wand and summoning the ingredients for our cocktails. He mixed our drinks right in front of us, and when he was done, our glasses floated over to us.
Sirius’ drink was a bright red with tiny sparks shooting out of it. Mine was a sparkly green, like somebody had melted an emerald, and then added slices of pineapple and a few cherries.
“To the scruffy gentleman, a Dragon Street special, a Melusine Cocktail. Fire Whiskey, dragonfruit essence, and a few drops of Whirligig poison for that tingle,” the bartender said. “And for the young gentleman, a Happy Fairy, which is magically infused absinthe, ice water, and sliced cherries and pineapples. Enjoy!”
We took our drinks and sipped at them, tasting them. Mine was pretty good. I’d had absinthe before, but this was a lot sharper, with a stronger flavor. Likely due to the magic used to ferment it. The fruit added a nice sweetness that was refreshing.
“Ah, that hits the spot!” Sirius exclaims with a pleased expression as he put he emptied glass down. He was floating an inch off of his seat thanks to his drink, while I soon noticed my skin had turned green.
After that, we began to drink, eventually moving from the bar to a table a little ways off. We still got our drinks, of course, the glasses floating out to us whenever we needed a new one, but we also got a bit of privacy.
By the time we were each on our fourth drink, the mood between us had gotten… I wouldn’t say festive but my drinking partner was definitely a lot more cheerful.
“Sirius? Can I ask you something?” I inquired after a while.
“Eh? Sure, what do you want?” Sirius asked, looking up from his current drink, some kind of fancy Margarita. I took a drink from my own Margarita to fortify my nerves, before finally giving him my question.
“Am I a good person?” All of the drinking I’d been doing tonight had loosened my tongue. I’d have never asked such a question any other time.
“Jeez, hit me with the hard balls,” Sirius muttered. “And here I was, having a good time.”
“Sorry,” I apologized, quickly downing the rest of my drink.
“No, no, it’s fine, I guess,” Sirius sighed. “Look, Edward… I don’t really trust you. Not after everything that’s happened. But I do know you’re not that bad a bad person. You’re trying your best, I suppose. Living as best as you can with the shitty hand life dealt you, so I admire you for that.”
He then groaned. “Ugh, not drunk enough for this touchy-feely shite, kid. Are you worried that you’re a bad person for killing? Merlin’s saggy balls, not at all. I’ve killed, Ed. In the war… I did things. I used my family’s knowledge to hurt other people. Sure, they deserved it. Never used anything against anybody who wasn’t wearing the mask and robes of a Death Eater. But still. Ever seen a man turn inside out? Or cause them to implode? Nah, death is nothing to be ashamed of. Not when you’re protecting somebody.”
“What Remus and I hate is all the secrets. We especially don’t like how many of ‘em are about Harry,” Sirius continued, growling a little. “Harry… he’s all we have left of James.”
“Harry isn’t James,” I said softly. “That isn’t fair to him. To either of them.”
“You think I don’t know that?!” Sirius snapped, glaring at me. “I know that! I do! But ten years in Azkaban has broken me. I can’t… it’s all I can do some days to wake up and get out of bed. To laugh. To live. And I cling to James’ memory and Harry because that’s all that’s keeping me from slipping down into a fucking hole that leads nowhere good.”
I said nothing to that. How could I? Sirius was right. He was broken. And recovering from his ordeals would be a lifetime of work.
“How can I regain what was lost, then, between us?” I asked instead, almost pleading with him. “I don’t want… you and Remus are some of my only friends, as much as it hurts to admit it. Aside from Sam, I have no other guys I know or trust like you two.”
“You want to get back into my good graces?” Sirius demanded. “No more lies. No more half-truths or evasive answers. You work with us fully and tell us everything. You help us protect Harry to the full extent you can! And you help us put that snake-faced bastard sixty feet under! That is how you might – just might! – get us to trust you again.”
“I’ve been keeping secrets for so long, Sirius,” I replied weakly. “I don’t know if I can be as open as you want me to be. But I’ll try. For Harry.”
“For Harry,” Sirius nodded solemnly, before knocking back the rest of his drink in a single gulp. “Damn, you’ve gone and brought the mood down.”
“Then let’s go somewhere else with a more festive atmosphere,” I suggested.
“Yeah, sure, why not?” Sirius agreed, and I paid for our drinks, wincing a little at how much I’d just spent. How could eight drinks possibly cost over three hundred dollars?!
‘Thank God and Merlin I’m a millionaire,’ I thought to myself, suppressing a sigh as I walked out after Sirius.
Following him, we soon found our way to another bar, this one with bright lights and loud laughter spilling out into the darkening street.
“Sounds like a party!” Sirius declared with a grin, striding inside with the confidence of a man who knew he was soon to be the life of said party.
I shrugged and followed him into the bar. Another drink or two probably wouldn’t hurt. ‘And I have to make sure Sirius doesn’t do anything stupid while drunk,’ I thought to myself. I had a feeling it wouldn’t be as easy as I hoped it would be, though.
Comments
Ian Rodgers
Precisely. Voldy-shorts was able to use fear mongering from that very event to bring plenty of people onto his side. And with the trinkets, this way I can have some explanation for where certain items come from in the future without going too indepth.
Alatoic
I can see the American revolution making the purebloods in Europe afraid and Voldemort promises of "putting the mudbloods in their place" wining a lot of power, specially if the moderate part of the goverment did not act fast enough to put their fears at ease. I am pretty sure Harry and the rest have purchased a lot of trinkets from the States so when presented during the story we can easily know where they get it. Same for some Native American rituals or magic that doesn't need a wand but other kind of focus.
