[1] 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 ― h.potter

012.

「012. witch trials 」

HISTORY OF magic, which happened to be honey's least favourite subject, had only one section honey could distinctly recall: the salem witch trials of 1692.

the salem witch trials, simply put, was the prosecution of people accused of witchcraft in america. common ways of punishment were simply hanging- but the idea of witches went further back the played down version in the late 1600s (even if it was horrific and no witch had actually been killed in the trials- just innocent people who could've lived).

witch accusations had floated around for a longer time than that- burnings, hangings and court trials. throwing an accused 'witch' into a body of water (usually a river) and seeing if she floated was apparently also a very accurate way to see the 'guilty' women convicted. to dye by the pyre or to drown in the lake.

that was the way they went.

there is no reason for honey to necessarily be spewing this knowledge (she does, afterall, have a year-ish until her OWLs).

the dream she was currently having didn't seem to give 'no reason' to her spewing of information when she woke up the next morning. in fact, the dream seemed to just worry her even more.

it was all simple flashes at the start. roaring flames felt sour in the air- waves of violence hissed in her mind as all she could see was scarlet and gold. there was a face in the flames, but all she could think was: run.

so she did, right into the blackened doom- eyes burning and body stinging. this was a nightmare, a dream.

that was all it could be.

then, murky green filled her eyes in her dreams. it was the type that makes your skin crawl just a bit because you simply have no idea what is in front of you and what is to the left of you. the water crawled around, prodding at skin that honey couldn't see with something tangling at hands she couldn't look for either. everything seemed numb, like nothing was happening.

she was motionless.

she was numb.

she was drowning.

there was a sluggish blink, and then everything seemed to come back to her. water in her throat, salt clawed at her veins and the particles stung her eyes. as bubbles escaped her mouth with the last piece of air leaving to the surface, a brown hand shot to her shoulder, and honey woke up.

she spat out what she thought was water, only to find herself hacking out air violently.

"bloody seer," she hissed to herself.

the world outside was still dark and gloomy, tired like all the students were from a night of dancing. with feet hurting and dam of thoughts that came with everything that happened at the yule ball breaking, honey closed her eyes.

seer be damned, she would not be dealing with her problems tonight.

honey woke up the next morning and decided she wasn't going to deal with her problems just yet. a funny thing, really. because next she knew- everybody else was doing the same as her. emmery and kai? the two of them blatantly ignored that they'd even come within centimetres of the others lips. hermione and ron? well, she had no idea what happened with them... but they were ignoring the thing (which was unusual of them); they were oddly polite, actually. and honey?

a dream is just a dream, no prophecy in the making.

(that was the lie she told herself).

there was, however, one blinding problem that honey could not avoid.