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Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter (sadly) and I certainly don't own the Salem Witch Trials (thank God!).

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Witch Hunt

by: HollyH

Chapter One: Welcome to Salem


He was trying to pay attention. Really – he was. But this was just boring. Honestly, who cared what happened like… what? A thousand years ago?

For the last twenty minutes Hermione was poking and prodding him in the stomach, trying to make him listen to their history lesson. Plus Harry was sleeping. Why wasn’t he being smacked like he was? Then, through the haziness of his mind, he remembered what had happened the year before.

When they said that they weren’t going back to Hogwarts, they weren’t kidding. Ron was sure even Crabbe and Goyle knew Hogwarts was no longer safe – not that they would be threatened at all, but you get the point.

Instead of Hogwarts, the students were now sent to many of the schools around the world. When Hogwarts closed down, most Slytherins ended up in Durmstrang. The other houses scattered amongst the others in Europe. Ron, however, tagged along with his friends to the west. Salem Witches' Institute in the big old United States America was a very small school compared to Hogwarts, but it had twice the excitement.

Maybe the excitement came from the fact that each room was crowded full of rowdy teenagers. Who knows? Anyway – Harry, Hermione, and Ron weren’t the only Hogwarts students to be transferred to Salem. If you can believe it, Draco Malfoy was stuck there as well as Luna, Ginny, and an amazing amount of younger students. According to Malfoy, he was only stuck there because both of his parents were being held by New Azkaban, the wizarding prison guarded by Pogrebin--which followed people around and infused them with hopelessness until the human collapsed and Fwooper--whose song would drive a person insane. He had also decided Salem was full of girls who were lovesick over their accents.

Harry and Ron had quite a laugh at that because Hermione told them she overheard McGonagall scolding him for protesting on the subject, but we’re getting a little off subject here.

History in America was no different than it was in Europe. Mr. Meyers was just as monotonous as Professor Binns. Today they were studying the Salem Witch Trials, and at the beginning of class they heard the American portion groaning about having learned about it every year so far.

“Now, now. This year is going to be different. This year Mrs. Frye came up with the idea of recreating Salem. All of you will be placed in a magical town that you would have seen in 1692. Each of you will be a member of the society, but to show you the actual prejudice against witches, all but four will have their wands taken away –”

“-WHAT?!”

“He’s gotta be kidding me!”

“Oh, dear. How will we ever survive?” Draco Malfoy loudly said in a loud, sarcastic voice. This earned him a few glares from his fellow classmates.

“-But they will be given back after the unit is finished,” he finished. “I want you all to come up and grab your new outfits – come on, now – just choose one – excuse me…”

Many of the girls scrambled to the front to grab the prettiest gowns up there, but most were all faded blues, grays and browns. Every girl’s coif was the same as well as their aprons. The men’s outfits were button-ups and had collars and slacks. They each grabbed their own.

“Sit down!” Mr. Meyers called when everyone was already going back to their seats. He had to shuffle through his papers to look back at where he was in his speech.

“Right… now… portkeys!” he shuffled through his pockets and took out many wooden beads and handed them out to everyone, with gloves on his hands. “I tell you now: if you touch these before exactly 2:00, there may be side effects, and –”

Ron, who had not been listening to anything that he was saying, reached out to touch it. Harry, who had just woken up, noticed the bead on his desk along with a pile of clothes (Hermione didn’t have the heart to wake him up) and reached for it. Hermione reached out and tried to pull their hands back so she grabbed on to Ron’s hand and felt her eyes roll in the back of her head and her body crumble onto a dusty, weed-ridden pat. Ron was laying at her side and Harry was standing a few yards off, already on his feet and dusting himself off.

“Ronald!” Hermione screeched. “What have you done?”

“Nothing!” he protested, patting his pile of clothes off.

“You had better hope we are where we are supposed to be!” Hermione hissed.


“We? You grabbed my arm!” He fought back.

“Where are we?” Harry asked when he walked over, his school robes still thick with dust.

“Outside,” Ron stupidly said.

“Oh, clever observation, Ron!” Hermione snapped.

“Quiet! Someone’s coming!” Harry pulled them behind a large boulder that was along the path. Ron stuck his wand out in a defensive move, but Hermione slapped it from his hands.

“Don’t!” Hermione said, ignoring his evil glare and instead, looking at what was coming down the dusty road. The man and the woman were dressed in clothes that closely resembled those they took from Mr. Meyers’ class. They had little bonnets – or, coifs, rather – and were riding a wagon being pulled by a single horse. Neither had smiles on their face and – and they were staring right at them.

“Who goes there?” came the female’s voice. She had kind of an accent and stared at them as they stopped, yards away. Ron nudged Hermione out into the road. The people gasped.

“What are y’wearing, wench?!” the man beside her exclaimed. Ron snorted in laughter at the name. The woman turned her attention to him, while the man looked at Hermione, disgusted.

“Y’foreign, laddie?” she asked them.

“N-no… we were… we were…” Hermione began, but Ron, as clever as he was, held out his wand to protect them.

“Witches!” the woman exclaimed.

“N-no!” Hermione gasped. This was not 1997. This was 1692!

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