Harry awoke the next morning, warm and comfortable on the soft straw mat. He opened his eyes to see rays of sunlight shining through the glass paned windows. Next to him Ron was still asleep but Hermione’s bed was made up. Harry sat up, rubbed his eyes and pulled on his glasses to see Hermione walking up to him carrying a pile of clothes.
‘Good Morning, sleepyhead!’ she said cheerfully.
‘’Morning,’ replied Harry.
Hermione walked over to Ron and nudged him with her foot. ‘Wake up, Ron!’
Ron groaned. ‘Whassatime?’
‘Its eleven in the morning and time to wake up,’ replied Hermione, dumping the clothes on Ron’s head when he didn’t move.
Harry noticed that Hermione had changed her clothes. She was now wearing a long brown dress and a crisp white apron.
‘When in Salem live as the Puritans do,’ said Hermione when she saw Harry looking at her. ‘We have to blend with the crowd while we’re here. Most people wear clothes like these. They’re very comfortable.’
She handed Harry some clothes of his own.
‘Puritans?’ asked Harry, looking at the clothes Hermione had handed him. They didn’t look very comfortable to Harry: A collared shirt and thick coarse brown pants. After soft robes, cloaks and modern Muggle clothes, these rough garments didn’t look inviting.
‘Yes. The Puritans were the first settlers of New England,’ whispered Hermione. ‘They broke away from the Church of England and came to New England to spread a pure, ‘godly’ branch of Christianity, away from the corruption of the Church of England. I think their religion is called Congregationalism.’
‘How is it,’ said Ron, looking bleary-eyed, ‘that you know everything about everything, Hermione?’
‘I study Ron. And I don’t know everything about everything,’ said Hermione. ‘Hurry up and get changed! According to the Puritan way of life we have to work from sunrise to sunset and it’s already eleven. Samantha is letting us stay until—’ she lowered her voice to a whisper, ‘—we can find a way out of here… which means until we can get back to 1998.’
Ron groaned. ‘We can’t get back to 1998 and we have to do house work?!’
‘Yes, now hurry up. It’s your fault we’re here so you’d better stop complaining.’
Ron grinned sheepishly. Hermione left and Harry and Ron quickly slipped into their new clothes. Harry was just putting some heavy boots on when Samantha entered the room.
‘I do hope the clothes fit,’ she said, smiling. ‘They belonged to my brothers and I’ve kept them for sometime. Hermione said they’d fit you.’
‘They fit just fine,’ replied Harry, politely. ‘Thanks very much.’
‘Yes, thank you,’ said Ron, buckling his belt.
Samantha nodded her head approvingly. ‘It was my pleasure dears. Now you may take a quick breakfast and then it is off to work. Hermione says you are willing to work for your keep as long as you are here and I do need some help around the house. My husband has gone on another trip and we have no men to go to town. We are running out of rye.’
Harry and Ron agreed to the breakfast and promised that they would run any errands Samantha needed done.
Harry entered the large kitchen. It was a warm, cozy looking room with an old-fashioned stove in the corner. For 1692 it was quite modern though, and Harry had to remind himself that he was living in the past, at least for now. The pipes of the stove ran into the ceiling where there was probably a chimney. On one side of the kitchen stood a few large tubs, used for the laundry and dishwashing. A large window looked out onto the front lawn which was still covered in thick, glittering snow. Harry noticed Hermione hanging clothes on a long clothesline, and for a moment he wondered how long it took the clothes to dry in the cold. In the distance Harry could see a forest and a large piece of empty land possibly used for growing crops. In the middle of the kitchen was a large wooden table made of oak. It was well cared for and the wood was not rotting. A few shelves on the other side of the room held plates, bowls and eating utensils along with a few large cooking pots.
A small staircase led to a door level with the kitchen floor which Harry supposed, was the entrance to the cellar.
Samantha invited Harry and Ron to sit down at the table and put two bowls of steaming porridge in front of them.
‘We have only a little maple syrup left from the spring so we must use it sparingly,’ said Samantha, setting a small jug of thick golden syrup on the table.
Harry took the jug and added a few drops to the mash and mixed it in. The syrup was so strong and sweet that even a small amount gave a lot of taste.
Samantha sat down at the table with Harry and Ron. ‘Naima, my daughter says you were holding this in your hand last night.’
Samantha held out the copper amulet that was responsible for transporting Harry, Ron and Hermione to 1692.
Harry took the amulet. ‘Yeah, I was holding this.’
‘If I may inquire… where did you get it?’ asked Samantha.
‘I picked it up in the snow,’ replied Harry.
Samantha nodded. ‘I see. Do you know what it is?’
When Harry shook his head, Samantha continued. ‘From the markings on it, I would say that it has something to do with the occult and magic.’
Harry looked up, surprised while Ron choked on his porridge.
‘Yes,’ said Samantha, misinterpreting their reaction. ‘The markings imply that the item is used for some sort of witchcraft.’
‘Oh,’ said Harry, trying to sound scared. ‘What should we do with it?’
‘I advise that you take it to town and put it in the position of our magistrate or maybe you ought to give it to the clergyman, Cotton Mather. Both may want to investigate it. We have been having an increase in the practice of black magic in Salem. Just yesterday news came of a young girl who suffered from horrible fits. Her mother has been imprisoned for suspected sorcery.’
Harry heard Ron gulp next to him. Harry was beginning to get worried too. ‘We’ll hand it over to the clergyman or magistrate right away Mrs. Becker.’
Samantha laughed. ‘Please, call me Samantha. Mrs. Becker makes me feel old. Well, I must get on with my sewing. Naima can direct you to town— she’s outside with Hermione. She’ll tell you what you need to get and give you the money. Have a good day, boys.’ She stood up and left the room.
Harry and Ron quickly finished breakfast and then pulled on the sealskin coats Samantha had lent them. They walked out into the snow covered world.
Hermione was chatting animatedly with Naima, looking perfectly at ease doing the housework. She waved Harry and Ron over when she saw them.
‘Hello! Finished breakfast? This is Naima Becker. Naima these are my best friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasley,’ Hermione said.
Naima smiled at each of them, her black eyes sparkling with excitement. ‘Such strange names you three have! They sound quite exotic. Old England must be such a wondrous place. I’ve never been there myself but it can hardly be as dull as people describe it.’
‘Oh, it defiantly isn’t dull,’ replied Harry, smiling. ‘Hermione, could we have a word?’
Hermione nodded and excused herself. Harry led her and Ron to the front wall of the house.
‘Look, we got it back,’ said Harry, holding out the amulet. ‘Samantha told us that these markings have something to do with magic. We should go now before people get too suspicious.’
Ron nodded but Hermione looked dubious. ‘I don’t know. If we disappear right now, what will everyone think?’
‘Who cares Hermione?!’ exclaimed Ron. ‘We’ll be gone anyway! And why aren’t you worried about changing history? You should be hysterical with worry right about now!’
Hermione looked at Ron. ‘Okay, let’s go.’
She held out her hand to touch the medal but Harry hesitated. ‘Er- why don’t one of you hold it?’ he asked.
‘Why?’ said Ron.
‘I think it has some kind of draining powers. I was the one holding it yesterday and I couldn’t hold a bowl steady, while you two could. I don’t want a repeat of that experience.’
Ron shrugged and held out his hand for the amulet. Harry handed it to him and put a hand on it, as did Hermione. Ron reached with his other hand a pressed the button. Harry closed his eyes, waiting for the speeding feeling, but it never came. He opened his eyes.
‘Why are we still here?’ he asked, looking around.
Ron pushed the button a few more times, but to no avail.
Hermione looked panicky. ‘It must have lost its power. It only had enough magic to transport us one way!’
‘We’re stuck in 1692? Forever?!’ Ron looked mortified.
‘What about changing history and everything?’ asked Harry, looking at the medal as if it were trying to trick them.
‘Well… if we look at it logically, whoever made this amulet must have taken precautions against changing history. If he or she were planning to travel back here to live, they must have arranged for everyone’s memories to be erased or something, automatically. They couldn’t have sneaked around all their lives,’ said Hermione.
‘So there’s probably no danger in us being here,’ said Harry.
‘No danger… except for the fact that we can’t use magic unless we want to be hanged!’ exclaimed Ron.
‘Well, we’ll just have to adjust… until I can figure out a way to get us back to 1998. Now we’d better get back or Naima will get suspicious.’ Hermione whispered.
Harry and Ron nodded and they walked back to Naima, who was still hanging clothes.
‘Ready to go to town, Harry and Ron?’ asked Naima as they approached. Harry replied in the affirmative.
‘Well, here is the money,’ Naima said, handing Ron a bag of coins. ‘We need a small bag of brown sugar and one sack of flour, oats and rye each. Just follow that path—’ she pointed to a small path which had been cleared of snow, ‘—until you get to a town. You can not miss it.’
Harry nodded. ‘Okay, thanks. See you two later.’
Hermione and Naima waved as Harry and Ron set off down the path. The town was a good three miles away and Harry and Ron had to stop a few times to catch their breath. It took them about an hour to reach the small town of Salem.
The town was quite large, considering that it was 1692 and that New England had only been colonized at the beginning of the last century. Harry could see a blacksmith and a carpentry shop. A shoemakers shop, a wagon maker’s shop and masonry’s also stood along the path. Further on were a small General Store, a bakery and a church. In the distance stood a small red schoolhouse surrounded by a few apple trees. On the other side of the path was a large building which had the word, MAGISTRATE, engraved on the wooden doors. Harry could also see a few trade carts stacked with fur, utensils and iron. The town was surrounded by cottages and houses of various sizes.
Harry and Ron entered the General Store. The small store had the wonder smells of sweet syrups and new fabric. Harry looked around. Near a large window stood large barrels full of various items, toffees wrapped in golden paper, brown and white sugar, salt, rice, corn kernels, cinnamon sticks and miniature bags of chocolate.
Behind the counter long shelves were stacked with circles of yellow cheese, butter molds and sacks of various grains. Other shelves held wax candles, boxes of matches, large and small pieces of glass used for windows and small toys for children who had collected enough pennies to buy them. Boxes of molasses and large bags of granulated white sugar leaned against one of the walls. Meat hooks hung from the ceiling with large slabs of red meat for families who did not raise animals.
Also behind the counter stood a portly man, probably in his mid-thirties, helping some customers. He was laughing, a jolly laugh that made his belly shake and the skin around his eyes crinkled in joy giving him a cheerful appearance.
Harry and Ron waited at the counter until the store keeper was free. He handed a customer a mold of butter and then stepped over to where the two friends stood.
‘Welcome lads! How may I help you?’ asked the shopkeeper. He looked them over quickly. ‘Are you two new to these parts? Can’t say that I’ve seen you before and I know most everybody in Salem.’
‘Yes, we’re new here,’ replied Harry. ‘We’ve just come from England. We’re staying with the Becker’s.’
‘Well, I see! Welcome to Salem. You’re welcome to settle down here. God knows this town could use a few more young able men. I’m Christopher Andrews, Mr. Andrews if you like. What do you need?’
‘Well,’ said Harry, searching his memory. ‘We need a small bag of brown sugar and a sack of rye, oats and flour each.’
Mr. Andrews nodded and bustled off to retrieve each item. He brought three large sacks and a small bag back. ‘Here you are, sirs. That will be half a pound.’
Harry handed the coins Naima had given them to Mr. Andrews who nodded. Harry passed two bags to Ron and lifted the other two himself and the two friends left the shop.
On the path Harry stopped.
‘Should we go give the amulet to the magistrate like Samantha said?’ he asked Ron.
‘Well, we can’t use it can we?’ replied Ron.
Harry nodded his agreement and they turned around, heading towards the magistrate’s building.
Inside a young man was sitting at a large desk. Harry went over to him.
‘Erm- excuse me… are you the Magistrate?’ he said.
The man looked up at him and nodded. ‘And who may you two young lads be? Newcomers?’
Ron nodded. ‘We’ve recently come from England and we’re staying with the Becker’s just out of town.’
The magistrate nodded. ‘Yes, I am Magistrate Hawthorn. How may I help you?’
‘Well,’ began Harry, ‘My friends and I found this amulet in the snow yesterday and Mistress Becker says that the markings indicate witchcraft. She suggested we hand it over to you for investigation.’
Ron held out the copper amulet. The magistrate took it and looked it over a few times.
‘Yes, Mistress Becker is correct. The markings do suggest this amulet’s use in sorcery. Thank you for bringing it here boys.’
‘Sir, if you wouldn’t mind, have there been any more reports of witchcraft here?’ asked Harry curiously.
Magistrate Hawthorn looked at Harry warily. ‘Not since yesterday. A young girl was taken ill and her mother has been brought in for questioning.’
‘The girl blamed her own mother for the fits!?’ cried Ron, incredulously. The Magistrate nodded and Ron looked disgusted.
‘How do you know it was witchcraft?’ asked Harry, before he could stop himself. He felt Ron stamp down on his foot and was glad the magistrate couldn’t see their feet.
‘The fits the young lady suffered have no medical explanation. Also the girl was playing with tea leaves before she began to convulse. Such sorcery is an open invitation for the devil and black magic,’ replied the magistrate.
‘But she was just playing with tea leaves! It was probably just for fun, to try and tell fortunes. Divination is such an obscure branch of magic,’ exclaimed Harry. Ron stamped on his foot again, this time harder. Harry realized his mistake a bit too late.
The magistrate squinted up at Harry. ‘How much do you know about divination, boy?’
‘N-Not much, sir,’ replied Harry, realizing he had gone too far.
‘Then I suggest you not to interfere in the business,’ said the magistrate, by way of dismissal.
Harry and Ron turned and left the building.
‘Good going Harry! He’ll be sure to suspect us. I’m sure he already does,’ said Ron worriedly.
Harry agreed. ‘Yeah, I think I sort of went too far. Maybe he won’t think too much of it though.’
‘You just hope he doesn’t get any ideas! I’d like to live the rest of my life happily, thank you very much. It’ll be your fault if he decides to arrest us.’
Harry laughed. ‘Don’t worry! He won’t! What can he do?’
A/N: The Puritans were a real sect of people who had separated from the Church of England. I’ve tried my best to reproduce their way of life but please forgive me for any mistakes.
Not as long as the last chapter but I hope I'll get reviews anyway...