Later
A/N: I know that it’s been a while since I posted last. I had major writers block and then I suppose I just lost interest. But I’ve got the story back on track and I’ve written quite a bit so hopefully, I’ll post regularly until this fic is finished. I’ve read all feedback posted (thanks to everyone) and I’d like to say a few things here. Firstly, those of you who thought that the spell book was planted on Hermione, you are right. It was planted for a reason. That’s all I’m going to say about that. ;) Other than that, many of you have been commenting about my historical accuracy. I’ve tried to be as accurate as possible, but the reason I’m writing this story is to write it. Harry Potter in Salem felt like a cool idea to me and I wanted to experiment. Although I’ve tried my best to be accurate, some things will always be wrong. So thank you Readers for supplying me with info. I’ll do my best to use it. Forgive me if I get things wrong despite your attempts to help this story be as true it history at possible. Sometimes I just get a wicked idea that I have to stick in, whether it agrees with facts or not. :) In closing, READ AND FEEDBACK!!!
Harry and Ron crept up to the door of the Becker home. They had both agreed that they should try to get their wands back at least, for Hermione. Giving up was not an option. Not when Hermione’s life was in so much danger.
Harry let out a sigh and stopped in the shadows near the house. ‘Okay,’ he whispered. ‘Remember, we’ll ask nicely for our clothes and then we’ll tell her how horrible Hermione is and act like we hate her. Got it?’ Harry knew full well that it was the most childish plan in the book, but he hadn’t been able to think of anything else.
Ron nodded and then shook his head. ‘She’ll never believe us.’
‘She will,’ said Harry firmly, trying to believe himself. ‘She has to.’
Harry took a deep calming breath and then strode forward, out of the shadows, and knocked on the door.
Harry and Ron heard a shuffling noise from behind the door and the murmur of muffled words. Harry looked at the door apprehensively.
A few moments later the door was slowly pulled open a crack and two brown eyes stared out at them.
‘May I help you?’ asked an unfamiliar male voice cautiously.
Harry glanced at Ron and then turned back to the door and said, ‘Er- could we speak to Mistress Becker?’
The man was automatically on the defensive. ‘What is your business?’
Harry swallowed. ‘I- we were her guests here, a while ago.’
The shock was apparent in the man’s eyes. ‘You! You get away from my home! Leave my wife and daughter alone!’
Ron raised his eyebrows. ‘Who are y-?’ but Harry interrupted him.
‘Samuel Becker?’ he asked quietly.
The man’s eyes widened even more, showing great fear ‘Wh-what do you want?!’
Harry groaned inwardly. This wasn’t the way things were supposed to happen. He took a deep, calming, breath.
‘We’re here to get our clothes, sir. We left them here by accident?’ Harry said slowly.
‘We’ve burnt all your clothes!’ said Samuel harshly. ‘They were probably cursed!’
‘Cursed!’ Ron burst out indignantly. ‘Our clothes weren’t cursed! They were just normal clothes!’
Before Samuel could reply, a small voice interrupted him.
‘Who is it, Father? Who is it?’
It was Naima Becker and she was peeking around the door frame, trying to peer through the little crack that Samuel was poking his nose through.
‘NAIMA!’ thundered Samuel. ‘What are you doing out here? Get back inside!’
‘But Father!’ said Naima happily. ‘They’re my friends!’
Harry smiled down at Naima, wondering if she was feeling better, and then turned back to her father. Next to him Ron was shifting his weight from foot to foot in agitation.
‘I- we- we aren’t witches, sir. That girl was, but we’re done with her. Let her rot,’ said Harry, making sure he sounded a little disgusted.
It seemed to work a little. Samuel opened the door a little more and Naima galumphed out, and looked up at Harry and Ron happily.
‘Would you like to come in?’ she asked sweetly.
Harry was about to jump at the chance when Samuel growled under his breath. Harry stepped back cautiously and then looked at Samuel hoping he’d let them in.
Samuel looked both Harry and Ron over for a long time. It was as if he was trying to see where they were hiding their wands. Harry wished he could tell him that their wands were currently hidden under a floorboard in the Becker home, and that that was the only reason he and Ron were visiting.
Samuel sighed a little and then opened the door all the way, calling to his wife as he did. Harry’s heart jumped and he leapt forward, Ron right at his heels.
Harry stepped into the warm, familiar house just as Samantha exited the kitchen. Samantha stared at them for a moment. Harry heard Ron gulp. Then something seemed to click in him. Ron suddenly pasted a smile on his face.
‘Samantha, hello,’ he said smoothly. Harry’s jaw almost dropped from its sockets. ‘We’re really sorry about Hermione. We had no clue. I mean that book that she had! It was obvious. Harry and I were in denial I suppose. She’s tricked us for such a long time really.’ He shot Harry an urgent glance.
Samantha blinked in confusion. Naima was jumping around Ron joyfully saying something about how here father had returned as soon as he’d heard about his family’s predicament and that they had allowed a witch to stay at their home. Ron smiled down at Naima, but his smile was tight and his green eyes were smoldering. Harry sidled away from the three quietly. It looked like Ron wouldn’t be able to keep up the act much longer. He had to do something. Glancing at Samuel, who was moving towards the stairs pausing to look fondly at his daughter before disappearing from sight, Harry moved a little closer to the hidden wands.
As he moved away slowly, Samantha’s anger melted away. ‘Yes, well, she was a witch, dear. She must have had you two under enchantments.’ She shuddered.
Ron grinned weakly. ‘I suppose so…’ He said more but Harry tuned out the conversation and turned his eyes towards the fireplace that Harry and his friends had slept by on their first day in the Becker house. He knelt down by the loose floorboard Hermione had stowed their wands under. Just then he heard a strangled cry from behind him.
‘Harry, watch out!’ Ron cried in a choked voice.
Harry spun around, still crouched low. His nose scraped a shiny metal surface, poised over his head. Samuel Becker had managed to sneak back downstairs and he was now standing above Harry with a shovel in his hand. Harry froze. He was positive one good blow would knock him out. Samuel was not a weak man. His bulk and muscle proved that.
‘Looking for these?’ came Samantha’s voice. Harry glanced at her, still frozen in place. She was pulling two long wooden sticks from her apron pocket. Harry saw Ron’s eyes widen. It had all been a ploy. A trick. They’d known that Harry and Ron would return, because they’d found their wands. Harry felt like kicking himself. Now instead of finding a way to free Hermione, they had gotten themselves trapped as well.
Harry switched his gaze to the shovel suspended over his head. Samuel Becker glared at him. ‘One false move, son, and I won’t hesitate to use this. No one hurts my family and gets away with it.’
Harry gulped. And then got an idea. A plain and simple tactic: diversion. ‘What are you going to do to us?’ he asked. As expected both Samuel and Samantha turned to look at him, leaving Ron partially unguarded. Harry gave his friend a quick glance. He hoped Ron would get the idea. He wasn’t known for being the brightest person.
‘We’re going to turn you in,’ said Samuel. Harry saw Ron move towards Samantha out of the corner of his eye and he made his move. Harry grabbed the shovel Samuel was holding in an instant and yanked it towards himself. Caught unawares Samuel staggered forward and almost fell over Harry. Ron leapt forward and snatched the wands from Samantha’s extended hand as she moved forward slightly out of concern for her husband. Samuel roared in rage and raised the shovel over Harry. Harry slid out of the way just in the nick of time. Meanwhile Samantha grabbed the metal fire stoker and smashed it into Ron’s face. Ron yelped and clutched at his face and dropped the wands in his agony. Harry jumped up and ran for the wands but Samantha got their first. She scooped up the wands and tossed them into the burning fire. Harry yelled out in surprise and ran to the fire. In a moment of stupidity and panic he pushed a hand into the fire. He brought something out and quickly stuffed it into his pocket, shaking his burnt hand. The skin was peeling from the heat. A roar made him look up. Samuel had raised the shovel and brought it bodily down on Harry’s back. Harry cried out in pain, but stood up and ran for the door. With Ron at his heels, the two friends left the Becker house, to shouts, screams and sobs from Naima. They didn’t stop running till the reached town. They stopped to catch their breath, looking back down the empty road. They’d failed. Samuel and his wife would have succeeded in killing both Harry and Ron if they hadn’t run for it and their wands were in the fire. Gone.
‘What did you get from the fire?’ Ron gasped, hands on knees, sporting a hideous black eye which was almost swollen shut.
Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the very end, about a centimeter, of one of their wands. It was still smoking.