Disclaimer: You recognise it? Then it is JK Rowling's.

Through the Furnace

Chapter Seven. Sweet Oblivion

Godric pushed through the spectators his head bowed down as he barrelled through them; he would bide his time before using magic. He did not need to glance up to know what was happening on the platform. His senses were blocked with the smell of smoke and flesh. And he had seen this scene all too often with younger magic users or the unsuspecting muggle. Swallowing down bitter bile Godric lifted a shaking hand to his throat. His muscles had voluntarily constricted upon themselves.

Harry's screams had been silenced moments ago. He was lucky to have fallen unconscious from the pain or suffocation. Some poor buggers were lucid through their whole ordeal.

Reaching the platform Godric pushed the priest to one side who was babbling something in Latin. The priest stumbled and fell. Cold black eyes glared at Godric – and the realisation soon dawned on his face. "Wizard!"

Godric rolled his eyes as if to say 'congratulations you idiot.' He pulled out his wand and lazily cast a flame freezing charm over the burning stake and Harry so that no further damage would be caused. Then he turned back to the cringing priest who was now babbling in Latin faster than Godric thought possible.

"He is a mere boy," Godric announced to the crowd gesturing to the crowd. "And you have the gall to call my people monsters!"

The crowd buzzed indigently at this statement and started to surge forward. Godric raised an elegant eyebrow in response and held up his wand to inspection. "You do not want to make me more angry than I already am," he warned waving his wand for effect.

'Stupid muggle fools,' Godric thought turning back to the unconscious form of Harry. He casually stepped through the flames and wrapped his arms tightly around Harry's waist; another hand slipped through and with a muttered incantation Harry was free.

The crowd was silent. Godric knew he must have been a sight. A tall imposing man in billowing crimson robes, licked in flames, an unconscious form in his arms and yet they remained unharmed.

"Like Daniel and his friends in the furnace," Godric crowed letting the muggles stare a little longer at him in wonder and trepidation.

"Now if you excuse me," Godric said as he readjusted is grip on Harry. "I need to get this young gentleman somewhere safe." And then he apparated.

The encampment was similarly protected as Hogwarts. None could apparate inside to prevent surprise attacks. Unfortunately Godric reappeared on the far outskirts and would have to walk for quite a while before being able to help young Harry.

Harry chose that moment to emit a small pain filled moan. Emerald eyes flickered open, crystalline tears slipped unchecked down the boy's flushed cheeks. "Where…"

"Hush," Godric softly admonished wiping away a fresh tear. "You're safe with me."

Godric pressed his middle and index finger under Harry's chin. With deft practice he made a jerky movement and rendered Harry unconscious. (AN1). Godric sighed and stumbled through the forest as quickly as he could. He was best that he did as much as he could for Harry while he was knocked senseless. He doubted continually knocking him out would be beneficial.

Rushing by tents not even glancing at his underlings Godric strode purposefully to his tent, cursing his luck for choosing a central position. He was so wrapped up in moving quickly without being stopped to answer questions or issue orders that he didn't hear Helga's voice calling him to stop.

Finally he reached his tent and stepped through sideways. By this time Helga had managed to catch up with him and had burst through the tent flap after him.

Godric glanced quizzically at his companion Harry still secure in his arms. "Is that him?" Helga asked pointing at the prone form of the boy.

"May I introduce Harry James Potter of Gryffindor House," Godric said sarcastically in reply.

Helga ignored the barb and tilted her head to the side to study Harry closely. Godric followed her gaze. Charred feet and shins and red angry blisters further up his legs gained his attentions first. The clothes Harry had been wearing had been devoured by the fire. The boy looked decidedly innocently his head lolled to the side his mouth slightly agape. The power of unconscious had taken the expression of pain from his facial features. Pain did not suit this boy, Godric decided firmly.

"He is a comely lad," Helga said bobbing her head so that loose strands of hair whipped her features.

"Yes he is," Godric replied turning swiftly and lowering Harry onto his bed.

"But he is rather dirty," Hufflepuff simpered creasing her brows in concern at Godric's lovely crimson sheets and gold plush cushions.

"Yes he is," Godric growled in reply not looking at his companion. Sheets could be replaced; limbs could not.

"I'll – I'll just get Salazar," Helga said obviously retreating to the tent entrance. No one crossed Godric when he was in a foul mood. Not even Salazar.

Godric sniffed his approval and turned away to his desk and found a pitcher of water. He conjured a bowl with a lazy flick and poured the water in. He then levitated a table near the head of his bed and transfigured a quill into a cloth.

Godric rolled up his sleeves and glanced curiously over the boy's prone form. "Well, Harry my lad let's get to work on you."

As expected there was no response as Godric mopped Harry's brow.

"GODRIC….."

Godric started and glanced up from where he was sitting on the edge of his bed. Salazar dashed into the tent his usual lordly air completely discarded as his eyes darted about frantically searching him out. Behind him Helga came skipping in through the tent. "I brought you Salazar," Helga hummed unnecessarily.

Salazar Slytherin was not listening to the badger founder; his pale face was turned to the near naked form of Harry. His eyes slowly then settled on Godric who could see that his hands were trembling slightly.

"I thought that you…" Salazar gasped reaching up with his free hand to his heart. "You…"

Fear suddenly turned into righteous fury as he turned on Helga. "You made me believe Godric was laying here on his death bed!"

"I never said that," Helga replied darkly. Salazar's anger didn't frighten her nearly as much as Godric's. "Beside you got here quickly. You would have made every excuse under the sun and the moon and the stars and the sky and the…well to dally and make Harry suffer."

Slytherin snarled and stalked into the tent further levitating another table and setting near the bed on the other side. He glanced up at Godric who looked a mixture of bemused and worried and decided his friend was not a party to the frightening message that Helga had given him.

With slow deliberate movements Slytherin pulled out the well used potions that he often administered to those that were not weary around muggles. Godric, he knew was watching with a mixture of dread and hope.

"You'll have to learn how to mix these potions, Godric. You keep rescuing people from the stake and using my potions," Salazar said in way of conversation. He pulled out the cork of the first vial while Godric lifted Harry's head and pried his mouth open.

"It is a terrible fate," Godric said closing Harry's mouth and massaging his throat though not concentrating on his movements.

"That it is my friend," Salazar soothed. "That it is."

iIiIiIiI

Harry found he couldn't breath. Something was stopping him from drawing breath. He snapped into consciousness realising something was in his throat.

Harry involuntarily coughed and splattered in a panic to gasp for fresh air. His hands flew to his throat as his eyes snapped open.

"It's alright," a voice told Harry. Harry blinked gazing about in the haziness realising he was being drawn up to have his head rest against someone's chest. Strong arms held him tightly. "You'll be alright."

Harry took a shuddering breath his limbs he realised were tingling a sensation that he had never quite felt before. But it was a sensation that brought with it a certain amount of dread.

"Salazar another of those numbing potions."

"At this rate he won't be able to feel anything," another voice rejoined.

The lip of a vial was pressed to Harry's lips. "Drink this."

Too tired, to exhausted to care what the potion was Harry allowed the foul mixture to be tipped down this throat without a fight. He licked his cracked lips and swallowed. "Water…" he gasped finally finding his voice.

"Of course," a silky voice stated. "Goddy tip his head back slightly… not too far you dolt!"

Harry drank deeply as he could as a flask was offered. Embarrassment was registered as he felt much of the water miss his mouth and drip down his chin. A gentle hand wiped his mouth.

"More?"

Harry faintly nodded in request and drank just a deeply as a second flask was offered.

"You'll be okay, Harry," a voice promised as once more Harry found himself slipping into sweet oblivion.

IiIiIiI

AN1 – I've read several LOTR fictions where a pressure point was located under the chin on the neck somewhere. I've used it here whether it is accurate or not – as a connivent piece of fact/fiction for my story.

AN2 – I am aware my spacing disappeared on my last update. I've tried to solve the problem by using letter characters instead of what I have been using – See if this makes a difference.