Chapter 6

"Good morning," the witch at the desk greeted Hermione as she got off of the elevator. "I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself yesterday. My name is Meghan."

"I'm Hermione. My friends and I had a great time in Enchanter's Way yesterday. I was wondering if you can give me any information about the history of magic in Salem? I know that there is a lot of information in the Salem Witchcraft Museum, but I was wondering if there was something that showed that time from the magical point of view."

"Actually, there is information in the Salem Witchcraft Museum from our point of view; you just need to have the password to enter the proper area. The password is Morgana. Speak that name and you will be given entrance to the restricted area of the museum. The people who run the Muggle part of the museum are Muggles, but they have knowledge of our world. All of the employees are married to a witch or wizard, or they are a Squib.

"Morgana," Hermione repeated. "I will remember that. Thank you for the information. There is one more thing that I wanted to ask you about because I know that Ron and Harry are going to want to go. When is the next Quidditch match?"

"There is actually a match tomorrow. If the three of you would like to go, the Quidditch Express leaves from Enchanter's Way at two pm. It's the trolley that goes directly to the Quidditch field and back. We sell tickets here at the inn or they can be purchased in Enchanter's Way. I know that they still have seats available."

"I know that they are going to want to see that match, so I am certain we will be back to buy those tickets. Goodbye for now," Hermione said, giving Meghan a smile.

A few minutes later she was back in her room, applying makeup and brushing out her hair. Her hair was as it usually was, long, curly, and unmanageable. She had silently cursed it for most of her life because it was one of the banes of her existence. She didn't consider herself a vain witch, but she did want to look nice. So she had brought a supply of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion with her on the trip. A quick application of the potion made her hair manageable enough that she could put it in a French braid.

Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was nine o'clock in the morning, and it was her opinion that it was quite time for her friends to get up. With a grin, she opened the door that adjoined their rooms and flicked her wand at the curtains, which opened and allowed the bright autumn sunlight to filter in.

"Time to wake up!" she called out cheerfully.

Ron jumped about a foot in the air, revealing that he wore nothing but a pair of pajama bottoms.

"Blimey, Hermione, don't you knock?" he chided her, turning red and pulling the sheets back over his form.

With a roll of her eyes, Hermione glanced over at Harry's bed, which was unoccupied. "Really, Ron, we did live all together in a tent for all those months last year. Besides, you look cute in your pajama bottoms."

"Yeah, well, just because we lived together doesn't mean I want... I do?" Ron's face turned even redder as he tried not to look pleased. A moment of embarrassed silence passed before he continued. "Er, I like your hair like that."

"Thanks. Sometimes I think it would be easier if I got it cut."

Ron looked as if he wanted to say something, but then Harry came out of the bathroom, fully dressed, with his hair wet from his shower.

"'Bout time you woke up, Ron," Harry said with a grin.

"Hey, just 'cause you conked out early last night doesn't mean I did!" Ron threw his pillow at Harry, hitting him square in the face.

Of course, Harry retaliated and threw the pillow back at him. Soon the two were throwing pillows so hard that the room was full of feathers. It went on for several minutes before an ear piercing whistle was heard and the two combatants stopped to look at their third friend.

"Are you two going to act like ten-year-olds for the rest of the day, or are we actually going to go do something?" Hermione asked, her hands on her hips.

Ron and Harry glanced at one another.

"You know, Ron, she's right. We should act more our age."

"I believe you are right, mate," Ron replied, grinning at Harry. "Boys our age would not just be throwing the pillows at each other, would they?"

"Nope, not when there is a girl in the room."

Hermione screamed as the two boys charged at her, buffeting her with their pillows.

"Oh, now, that's not fair!" Hermione giggled. "I don't have one! Accio pillow!" She pointed her wand through her open door and the pillow from her bed zoomed across the room to her. "You two are in so much trouble!" There was a wild glint in her eyes as she started beating them with her own pillow.

Several minutes later, the three of them were collapsed on the floor in the midst of a pile of feathers, laughing and breathing heavily. No one said anything, but simply enjoyed the moment.

Finally, Hermione stood up and groaned at her reflection in the mirror.

"Now come on, you gotta admit that was fun," Ron said in response to Hermione's reaction.

"It was fun, but now I have to redo my hair!" Hermione said with a roll of her eyes as she headed back to her room. "And just for that, we're going to check out some of the history of Salem today!"

The groans of the boys followed her until she closed the door that joined their rooms.

***

Nearly an hour later, the three set off, bound for the historical part of Salem. Hermione was obviously the most eager of the three while her two companions look slightly less enthusiastic.

"Least you coulda done was to let us go get some breakfast first," Ron grumbled as his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten for over twelve hours.

"Well, if you had gotten up earlier and hadn't had a lie-in, then started a pillow fight so I had to redo my hair, we would have gotten something to eat and then gone to the museum."

"But a museum! You know Harry and I don't care for that sort of thing," Ron complained, looking at Harry for support. "Besides, I thought you agreed we could go to a Quidditch game."

Harry put his hands up in front of him, clearly choosing to stay out of the argument.

Hermione didn't reply for a moment or two, but finally said, "It just so happens, Ron, that there is a Quidditch game tomorrow that I will be happy to go to with the two of you. That is, of course, if you two don't grumble too much about going to the museum today." Hermione looked smug as Ron quickly shut up. "Now, Meghan at our hotel told me that in order to get to the magical part of the museum we have to say Morgana. That is the password to let the staff know that we are a part of the magical community. All of the workers there are either married to a witch or wizard or they are Squibs, so they are aware of the magical world."

When they arrived at the Salem Witch Museum, Ron and Harry headed right for the magical part of the museum while Hermione browsed the Muggle area. When she joined them at last, she found them engrossed in a discussion with one of the tour guides. Joining them, she smirked self-righteously.

"You see, history doesn't have to be boring. Maybe this will help you to have some appreciation for what people went through years ago."

"Alright, alright, you have made your point. History doesn't have to be boring. Fact is, this is even kinda interesting," Ron said grudgingly.

"The three of you should visit the Witch Dungeon Museum, as well as other places. It will really give you an idea of what it was like to be accused of witchcraft back in the 17th century." The woman gave them a brochure that listed all of the places of interest that they might enjoy.

"Thank you," Hermione said, taking the brochure and looking at Ron and Harry imploringly.

"I'm all for it," Harry said with a grin. "After all, we have a Quidditch match to go to tomorrow and I'm not missing it."

Harry and Hermione looked at Ron.

"We can go on one condition."

"What's that, Ron?" Hermione asked impatiently.

"Let's go get something to eat first. I'm starved!"