Reborn As A Squib In Harry potter

"So, this is France," Harry said, looking around curiously.

"Technically it's an airport luggage claim," I said with a chuckle. "But yes, it's in France."

I then made a grand, sweeping gesture. "Welcome to Gay Paree. Birth place of the obnoxious smoker, obnoxious fashions, obnoxious cheeses, and the baguette. The latter of which is their only real contribution and achievement."

"Maybe don't say that stuff out loud," Sam muttered to me, seeing the way various froggies were glaring at us as we walked out to find a taxi.

"What are they gonna do? Surrender to me?" I scoffed.

But still, I decided to follow Sam's advice and tone down my Britishness, at least for now. I had a head full of French jokes and they were going to be made, one way or another.

The flight had been great. Well, as great as can be on a morning flight in Economy class. But still! It worked out. Lots of fun, if not a lot of leg room.

"So? What did you guys think of your first flight?" I asked them.

"Eh, beats walking," Sam said with a shrug. "Wish the seats were more comfortable, though. And it wasn't my first flight, either."

"Oh, right, yeah, your family went to Spain a couple years ago," I muttered. "Well, how about you, Harry?"

"It was interesting, but I think I prefer broomsticks to planes when it comes to flying," Harry admitted.

"That so?" I inquired.

"Yup. I really enjoy flying. The feeling of freedom is great! And being Seeker was a lot of fun, too. I'm looking forward to it next year," Harry said excitedly.

"Seeker?" Sam asked, and Harry happily explained the rules of the ridiculous sport to him while I tried to hail a cab.

'Can't wait until smartphones and Uber kick your asses to the curb,' I thought morosely as yet another vehicle zoomed past, not even bothering to slow down as I waved my arms like an inflatable tube-man.

We did eventually flag a taxi properly, and it took us straight to our hotel. A Hilton, near the downtown, was where we'd be staying. I'd splurged, using some of my gambling money to pay for a nice room for each of us. We'd spend the two weeks in France in style!

"Do we have to declare ourselves to the French Ministry of Magic?" Sam asked as we headed into our hotel's lobby.

"Nope. You and I aren't wizards, and Delilah isn't a witch. We didn't come here via a magical method, either. Add in the fact that Harry is a minor, so as long as he doesn't use any magic, he should be fine," I replied.

"Okay," Sam said, though he clearly looked nervous.

"It'll be fine! Tomorrow, we'll go out and see some of the sites in the non-magical side, and visit the magical equivalent of Diagon Alley, which I'm told have some very interesting magical monuments." I told my two companions. "There's even supposed to be a magical section of the Louvre, which I'm interested in. I got tickets for the mundane side as well. That's for Sunday, though."

"That does sound like fun," Sam said, smiling a little at the thought.

"What are we going to do with the rest of our day?" Harry asked curiously. It was mid-afternoon, with plenty of time to spend before dinner.

"There's a few places we can tour in the area," I assured Harry. "Don't worry, I made a list."

And boy did it make me miss the ease of access to information the internet provided back in my old world. Looking up stuff to do while on vacation in the early 90's required a ridiculous amount of work, and a lot of it involved going through books, maps, and whatever other resources the local libraries might possess.

"You invited Delilah, right? When will she get here?" Sam asked curiously.

"Monday," I said. "She'll be able to meet up with us then."

"Glad to hear it. You two are cute together, the way you dance around your feelings," Sam said, smirking at me.

"Hush!" I grunted. "It's not like that!"

"Yes, it is," Harry drawled, and I reached over and messed up his hair in retaliation. Not that that was very hard, given how wild his mane of black hair was.

"You guys," I chuckled fondly. This was going to be fun. I just knew it!

Sadly, we did not manage to make it to Rue Magique, the Parisian version of Diagon Alley, on Saturday. We were too busy touring the non-magical side of the city that we never found the time.

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