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Harry Potter Squib Tales Chapter 60: Gumbo and Good Times
🕑 Added 2024-12-20 17:01:33 +0000 UTCChapter 60: Gumbo and Good Times
“So, this is the United States, huh?” Sirius muttered, looking around the city. We had finally arrived at the Crescent City earlier that morning. The flight from London’s Heathrow airport had been a long one, something that had caused the last son of the Black family a lot of trouble. He had a problem with sitting still once the novelty of the trans-oceanic flight had worn off. I’d packed a Sleeping Potion, having anticipated this, and he’d snoozed through most of it.
Harry hadn’t exactly enjoyed the flight, either. He much preferred brooms to airplanes. Luckily, a few books had helped him pass the time. As for me? Well, I’d packed my Gameboy, and enjoyed playing a bunch of games I’d remembered fondly from my childhood. Super Mario Land 2, Kirby’s Dream Land, and of course, the one, the only, Battletoads.
Right now, though, both of them had their noses pressed against the windows of the taxi cab as we drove through the streets, looking at everything. New Orleans was vastly different compared to London, both the magical and the mundane sides. It was more colorful, though just as busy, and hotter as well.
“New Orleans was a French colony, before the Americans acquired it from Napoleon in the Louisiana Purchase of 1803,” I helpfully supplied to the pair. I was sitting up front next to the driver, who was a middle-aged African-American man that had a ‘seen it all’ sort of attitude. “Of course, it was also a Spanish colony for a bit when they took it from France during one war or another.”
“You sure sound like you know the history of our fair city,” the cabbie commented.
“I did my research. I’ve also heard good things about the food here, too,” I said. “Know where the best Gumbo is served?”
“Do I?” the cab driver laughed. “It’s a bit early for lunch, but I know a place that’s open soon. He won’t mind serving us an early brunch.”
“Lead the way!” I requested eagerly.
The cabbie brought us to a restaurant that was located off the main touristy streets, and closer to the part of town that was more for the locals than anything else. A middle-aged African-American husband and wife duo ran the place the cabbie took us to, and they greeted us warmly when we entered.
“You all look too thin!” the matronly woman frowned as she looked us over. “That won’t do at all!”
“She’s like Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said in a bit of awe as the older woman bustled around, making us feel at home while talking a mile a minute as she did so.
“Some things transcend cultures and continents,” I chuckled. “One of which is mothers who want to stuff our faces full of food.”
“This place has the best damn gumbo in the country!” the cab driver declared as he sat down. He then pointed at a frame on the wall. “See? There’s the proof!”
A newspaper clipping with a blue ribbon was immortalized in the frame, and the woman blushed.
“Oh, stop, you!” she giggled.
“Four bowls of your house special gumbo, then,” I requested. It wasn’t long before steaming bowls of food were brought out, and I took a moment to really take a deep whiff of the spices.
“It’s good!” I praised as I spooned fresh, authentic crawfish gumbo into my mouth, savoring the flavors that exploded across my tongue.
Hole in the wall diners and restaurants could be hit or miss, but this one was definitely a hit. The food was excellent, and Harry and Sirius were eagerly digging into their meals as well.
“So what brings you out here to New Orleans?” the cab driver asked, making small talk.
“We’re here to take in the sights,” I replied.
“From your accents, you’re from England, right?”
“Correct,” I nodded. “This is Harry and his godfather, Sirius. My name’s Edward. A pleasure.”
We all shook the cabbie’s hand in greeting, and got back to eating. When we were finished, we left a generous tip for the nice couple, and then got back into the cab which drove us to our destination.
“This is where you’re staying?” our driver asked as he pulled up in front of the house. Well, house was probably an understatement. It was big, and in a historic section of New Orleans. A lot of other old mansions sat in the area.
The movers and shakers of the city as well as within Louisiana and the south of the U.S. as a whole lived here. I’d done my research as best as I could on the Flamel’s summer home, but without the internet is was hard to do. What I could acquire from libraries and schmoozing with the rich back in England told me that the Flamel’s had been neighbors with senators, governors, and other powerful men and women.
“Yup,” I nodded. “My grandparents left it to me after they passed away last year.”
That was the excuse, at least. Claiming the Flamels Muggle identities here in the States to be my grandparents was the easiest way to get around this. Of course, this lie wouldn’t hold up to close scrutiny, but it served for now.
“Well, damn,” the cabbie grunted. “Had no idea you were a big shot.”
“I’ll be honest, this is a fairly recent change for me as well,” I admitted. After all, it wasn’t until a couple years ago I starting making money hand over fist.
“Eh, mine’s bigger,” Sirius drawled, and Harry and I both rolled our eyes at him. Though from the smirk I knew he was playing around. I think.
We got our luggage out of the cab and paid the man well. He also gave us his phone number in case we needed to be driven around again, which was a smart gesture.
“Let’s see if the key I was given works,” I hummed, stepping up to the front gate. I pulled out the small iron key I’d been given by Mr. Winkle, and it fit the lock perfectly.
“By the way, can you detect anything… unusual?” I asked Sirius under my breath as the gates opened without so much as a squeak of rusty hinges.
“There are old and powerful wards here,” Sirius confirmed, eyes darting around warily. He hadn’t drawn his wand, but being a Black, he had more than few tricks to detecting magic that didn’t rely on it.
The key opened the front door as well, and let us into a fine-looking foyer. It had a grand staircase that led up to the second floor, and a big golden chandelier overhead.
“Welcome to the Ruby Manor, my new master,” a young European woman dressed like a secretary said in greeting, bowing her head politely to the three of us. She wore horn-rimmed glasses and had her blonde hair done up in a bun. She stood in the middle of foyer to welcome us.
“New master?” I asked hesitantly.
“Yes. Mister and Missus Flamel told me that I and the rest of the staff here were to serve you loyally,” she stated. “I am Carlotta, head of staff here.”
“Who else works here?” I inquired.
“There is a chef, two maids, and a driver who are all contracted to serve you.”
“Um, so, I had no idea any of you were here,” I said nervously. “How much do I owe you wage-wise?”
“We will show you the employee contracts later. But do not worry. The Flamels took care of everything for the next ten years. They weren’t sure when you’d be able to come out here, and made plans for it.”
“That’s a relief,” I muttered.
The secretary nodded, and a moment later two women entered from a side entrance, dressed in French maid outfits which was kinda amusing, considering who’d once owned this place. Both were Asian, with one having black hair, the other’s being snow white. but they had distinctly inhuman features on them.
The black-haired maid had fox ears and tail along with a cheeky grin, while the white-haired maid exuded an aura of wintery chill despite the summer heat.
“A Kitsune?” I gasped.
“I’m actually a Kumiho,” the maid said with a pout.
“I’m sorry,” I quickly apologized, before glancing at her companion. “The hair, though, and sensation of cold… that must make you a Yuki-Onna?”
“That’s correct,” the second maid with a nod. She then shot the maid a smirk. “It seems like I won that bet, Song. He was able to tell who I was, but not you.”
“Ugh! So not fair, Aoi!” the Kumiho maid named Song grumbled.
“Ladies,” Carlotta said in a disapproving tone, and the two quickly straightened up before taking the luggage from myself and my two companions.
“No House Elves?” Sirius wondered as the maids took their luggage away to their rooms, his eyes lingering on their backsides as they walked off. Song didn’t seem to mind, if the way her hips swayed were any indicator.
“The Flamels were Squibs. They lacked the magical power to sustain House Elves,” Carlotta stated. “Additionally, even if they could have, they were not fans of what they saw as enslavement of another thinking being.”
“Makes sense,” Harry said with a nod, which I mirrored.
“Do you wish for a tour of the house?” Carlotta inquired, and we all nodded eagerly. “In that case, welcome to the Ruby Manor.”
“As you can no doubt tell, the Ruby Manor was built in the French Colonial Style,” Carlotta informed us as she led us through the hallways. “It was constructed with few magical wards and systems at first, but they were slowly added by the Flamels as time passed and they found new things to be improve upon.”
Carlotta paused in front of a window that overlooked an impressive garden. “For instance, the Flamels created dozens of wards that form a magical greenhouse of sorts, allowing plants from any part of the world to grow without issue. And, of course, there are the hurricane proofing measures that prevent damage from wind or water to any part of the house or grounds.”
I nodded happily at that while Harry muttered about how envious Neville would be when he heard about the gardens here.
Carlotta showed us around the first floor, which was quite lovely. Everything was a mix of white and bright colors. The rooms ranged from sunrooms, parlors for tea, and a fully stocked bar that had Sirius drooling. There were two dining rooms: one for expensive parties and one for smaller private gatherings. The Ruby Manor had a ballroom with a grand piano, harp, and all sorts of other musical instruments.
There was so much to see, and Carlotta was only showing them the parts of the house that were She kept the places that were used by the staff such as the kitchen, washing rooms for laundry, and the like off the tour.
“And this door here leads to the basement,” Carlotta revealed, leading us to a door with carvings of bowling balls and pins on it. “There are three other doors that lead downstairs, and the basement itself is divided into two sections. A storage area, which I will show you later if you wish.”
She opened the door, causing lights to flicker on, revealing a short staircase. Descending it, we came into a cool, well-lit area.
“As you can see, this part of the basement was modified into an entertainment parlor,” Carlotta explained as she showed them around. “There is a bowling alley, an arcade room, and a movie theatre, fully stocked with hundreds of shows and films from all over the world.”
“Whoa,” I uttered in awe, staring at the area. Harry and Sirius were impressed as well, though because they didn’t have the same background I did, it was not as interesting as what we’d seen on the first floor.
The basement was split into three parts, with the bowling alley to the right of the stairs, the arcade room to the left, and the movie theatre directly ahead. Each of the entertainment rooms were massive, and could fit dozens of people each.
The bowling alley had seven lanes, as well as a few tables and booths set up near a snack bar that reminded me of a Fifties era Malt Shop, complete with kitschy color scheme and old-fashioned cola adverts.
I had no idea how many game consoles were crammed inside the arcade room, but there were dozens of them, with all sorts of different kinds, ranging from racing games to shooters to fighters. I felt strong pangs of nostalgia as I looked around, recognizing many of the games from my childhood in the last world. I felt the urge to go over and run a hand over the controls.
“Is that an original Pacman?” I inquired, recognizing the boxy console in one corner.
“Indeed,” Carlotta confirmed. “Mr. Flamel became something of a fan when video games were first invented. He made it his mission to buy as many as he could, much to his wife’s exasperation.”
“What did this place used to be, before bowling alleys and movies were invented?” Harry wondered.
“It changed every few decades depending on what caught their eyes. During the Fossil Wars, the Flamels bought and displayed a variety of fossils and geological oddities. When the Industrial Revolution kicked off, they acquired different kinds of experimental steam-powered devices. And at the turn of the 20th century, Mrs. Flamel collected butterflies and other insects while Mr. Flamel took up painting,” Carlotta said, revealing a bit about the immortals and their past.
“I guess if you’re gonna live a while, might as well have fun doing it,” Sirius said with a nod.
“Do you still have the dinosaur fossils?” I asked eagerly, and the woman nodded.
“They are in storage.”
“I think we’ll need to go over what you have in there later, but for now, why not take us up to the second floor next?” I suggested.
Carlotta nodded, and we walked up and out of the basement to the next area. The second floor was just as incredible as the rest of the house. Luxurious bedrooms and guestrooms, large bathrooms with gold and marble accents and decorations, a library full of books from across the world, and several empty rooms that could be used for anything.
“And that is the Ruby Manor. Have you enjoyed your tour?” Carlotta inquired, coming to a stop in front of the grand staircase.
“Okay, I gotta say it! This house is way better than Grimauld Place,” Sirius declared, a note of envy in his tone.
“Certainly brighter and less… I don’t want to say ‘cursed,’ but that throw pillow in the living room tried to bite me,” Harry added in agreement. Sirius winced at that.
“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that Prongslet, I’m not sure why it did that. Probably evil reasons, knowing my family.”
“It’s lovely, and you’ve clearly kept it intact all these years,” I praised, deciding to worry about man-eating pillows later. “Give my thanks to the staff for their hard work.”
“Of course, sir,” Carlotta replied, bobbing her head.
“Can you show us where our rooms are?” I requested next, and she did so, taking us to our spots where we’d be sleeping for the following two weeks.
As the new owner of the Ruby Manor I was sleeping in the master bedroom. It felt awkward being in there. I kept expecting Nicholas or Perenelle to pop up and scold me for entering their personal quarters.
Harry and Sirius got fancy guest rooms. They were quite large and had queen-sized four-poster beds. Numerous magical charms and enchantments filled the rooms and the furniture as well, giving it a very fantasy-esque vibe.
“Is there anything else you require?” Carlotta asked after she’d shown us to the bedrooms.
“We were interested in doing some exploring of New Orleans today. Where is the entrance to the magical side of the city?” I inquired.
“I will bring you a map,” Carlotta replied. “Do you wish to use the chauffer, or do you want to explore on your own?”
“On our own for today, and we’ll see about what we want to do later,” I replied after thinking it over.
Carlotta nodded in understanding before walking off, leaving us alone for the moment.
“Okay, gang,” I said, turning to Harry and Sirius. “Plans for this afternoon! A quick jaunt down to the magical quarter, then some time in the mundane city, finally dinner somewhere. Sound good?”
“Fine by me,” Sirius agreed, and Harry bobbed his head in agreement.
“Any place in particular you’re hoping to see?” I asked curiously.
“I’ve heard good things about American brooms,” Harry said. “Kinda want to see what they have.”
“Did you know that they have treatments for werewolves here?” Sirius asked. “The Native American shamans apparently have some really effective methods for controlling Lycanthropy that’s as good, if not better, than Wolfsbane Potions.”
“Ah, looking to find something to help Remus?” I guessed, and Sirius nodded.
“Yup. Moonie deserves it after everything he’s gone through. And I know he’s been really anxious about transforming and losing control now that he has a lady lover. Maybe if he has a new method to handle his inner beast he’ll calm down and finally stop having such a pity party and cheer up.”
“If you find anything like that, let me know. He deserves a reward for helping me with my security,” I requested, and Sirius gave a hum in agreement. The lord of House Black still didn’t trust me fully, but I was willing to work to recover it.
“What are you interested in seeing, Ed?” Harry wondered.
“Magic-wise? All of it. Though specifically, I’ve heard some crazy things about Voodoo and I wanna know if it’s something Squibs can get in on,” I replied. “On the mundane side, I’ve always wanted to explore New Orleans. It’s a vibrant city. And then I want to see what else the U.S. has in store for us to see.”
We weren’t planning on staying in New Orleans the whole time. We had two weeks – technically only twelve days as traveling back to England would take a while – and some of those days I wanted to spend elsewhere in the country. I wanted to visit one of the largest magical communities in the Americas, and also check out Disney World in Florida.
We could always fly to our destinations on airplanes, but part of the reason why I wanted to investigate the magical district was to see if they had any ways for magical tourists to travel around the country, like with Portkeys or the Floo.
After Carlotta brought us a map of the city, the three of us ventured out to explore and see the sights.
It turned out that New Orleans did not have one single magical district, but rather had five, all of which were scattered about the city. Looking at them, you could basically track the history of the city itself, as each district was in different places based on how the city had expanded.
The largest and oldest magical site was in the old part of town, where the original French colonists had set up shop. It was uninspiringly called the French Quarter, or just the Quarter, and was considered a historic place, with many museums and old buildings preserved exactly as they had been way back when. It was also where the famous Bourbon Street was located.
The Quarter was the perfect place for magical stuff to be hidden. Large amounts of foot traffic, historical sites that couldn’t be moved or altered, and a sense of flamboyant revelry that could obscure any magical incidents or accidents. According to the notes Carlotta had scribbled into the margins of the map, the magical section of the French Quarter was known as Dragon Street.
The second largest magical district was also the newest, and it had been built in the nineteen fifties in the eastern part of New Orleans to accommodate the influx of Muggleborn. It was the cheapest and was where the most modern changes could be found.
Our plan was to check out the districts from oldest to youngest, getting a good grasp of how magical society had changed in the United States compared to magical Britain.
This tour of the city would take two days, assuming we managed to keep the schedule. I wasn’t going to hold my breath, though.
Walking around, there was a liveliness to the streets of New Orleans that had Harry and Sirius looking around at everything with a sense of wonder. It was quite amazing for myself as well. Being in the city I’d always wanted to visit was like a dream come true!
“According to Miss Carlotta’s map, this is the entrance to Dragon Street,” I said after a bit, looking up at the building we’d stopped in front of. It was called Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop, and was one of the oldest buildings in the city. It was a tourist spot on the corner of Bourbon Street and was also known as one of the most haunted buildings in New Orleans.
And it seemed the rumors were true, as I could see a handful of ghosts, most dressed like they were from the 18th century, floating around inside through the open door.
‘Hiding in plain sight, huh?’ I mused. That was one way to do things. Harry and Sirius didn’t look very impressed though. Considering they’d been to Hogwarts, a place with more than a hundred ghosts, the Blacksmith Shop was rather lacking, spirit-wise.
“Well, let’s go in,” Harry said, and we walked into the building. He waved at one of the ghosts, who waved back.
“Hello! Magical tourists, eh?” the ghost inquired with a thick French accent. “The entrance to the street is back that-a-way.”
He gestured towards a door that the non-magical folk didn’t notice, and we nodded in thanks before heading in.
“Well, I’ll say this, Dragon Street is a lot brighter and livelier than Diagon Alley,” Sirius commented as he looked around at the place we’d come out onto.
I nodded in agreement. The walls of the buildings in Dragon Street were white-washed and kept pristine with magic, while colorful roofs and canopies added some variety. Dozens of buildings lined the straight and narrow street, mirroring the layout of Bourbon Street to an extent.
Then there were the people. They were walking around wearing a mix of wizarding robes and Muggle fashion. There were women in jeans wearing wide-brimmed witch’s hat, and men who wore sneakers and shorts underneath their robes. It was quite the sight.
But it was the magic that was openly on display that was the most eye-catching. Magic carpet taxis flew passengers to and fro up and down the street, while enchanted, multi-colored torches lined the road in place of streetlights. Potion vendors hawked their wares from carts, selling hangover cures to any who needed them. And every so often, flashes of magic would pop up as street performers combined spells with their acts.
“Is that a broom store?!” Harry asked excitedly, rushing over to stare at the items on display in the window.
The store did indeed sell brooms. It also sold magic carpets and other flying devices. There was even an enchanted vacuum cleaner that could be ridden!
“Can’t believe they’re selling magic carpets openly like this,” Sirius muttered, eyeing the enchanted woven mats. “Wonder how much they cost?”
“Dunno, let’s go in and find out,” I suggested, and we entered the store to browse.
It turned out that magic carpets were somewhat expensive. A basic one with only levitation enchantments and an ability to fly less than ten miles per hour was a thousand dollars. The safer and faster magic carpets were upwards of ten thousand dollars, almost the cost of a car!
Brooms weren’t as expensive, costing about as much a bicycle, so a few hundred dollars depending on the model, but they did have a lot of regulations and it required a prospective flyer to take a two-week course on flight safety.
Technically, the lessons weren’t mandatory, but it did seem like the American government was leaning towards classifying any sort of magical flying tool as a powered vehicle, which meant if you wanted to ride a broom or carpet, you’d need something like a driver’s license to do so legally.
Neither Harry nor Sirius were thrilled at hearing that from the shopkeeper. In England, if you wanted to fly on a broom, you could. Didn’t matter the age, so long as you went undetected.
That wasn’t the only difference in the American flying scene. The national Quidditch league was revamping its rule sets slightly to make games shorter and less hazardous, but they were also opening up more slots. In the past, there’d only been a handful of professional American teams. Now, they were trying to make it more like the mundane sporting groups with Quidditch team counterparts in all of the major cities.
Most of these changes were approved by the two avid fans of flight. The more Quidditch teams, the better!
Eventually, though, I had to step in as Harry and Sirius didn’t look like they’d be finished anytime soon.
“Alright, you two, come on, let’s wrap it up,” I urged. “We have other sights to see today!”
“Aww, come on, Eddy! There’s still plenty of time to look around!” Sirius whined.
“You might be a dog, Sirius, but you can’t pull off puppy dog eyes,” I drawled, and he tsked in disappointment.
“Excuse me, miss,” I began, turning to the witch behind the store’s counter. “But do you know if there are tours of the magical districts?”
“There’s a couple. If you want to visit the other magical districts on your own time, though, you can rent one of those carriages to get around,” the witch said, pointing out the window as one passed by on the street. “It’s got an illusion on it that makes it seem like a horse is pulling it, so the regular folk don’t notice anything amiss. The carriages can go pretty much anywhere in the city as well. Well, anywhere that carriages can go, that is. Some places in New Orleans don’t allow for ‘em.”
“I see, that’ll help us keep to the schedule,” I mused thoughtfully. Sirius rolled his eyes at that.
“You and your schedule,” he mocked. “Come on, live and little!”
“Some people like having a list to follow,” I replied with a haughty sniff.
“Well, I don’t want to disrespect the list. Hermione would have my head,” Harry joked, and I grinned at him.
“That’s the spirit, Harry!” I chuckled. “Come on, let’s go see how much it costs to rent a carriage.”
Comments
Ian Rodgers
Ed will definitely have to go back with Delilah at some point.
Catherine Colin
Mardi gras in Feb lets gooo! Cafe demont‽
Ian Rodgers
Same. You really need to experience the genuine stuff to appreciate it.
Catherine Colin
I’ve had gumbo in Louisiana honestly some of the best gumbo I’ve ever had
Catherine Colin
Now, I want some gumbo
