Disclaimer: Not mine. Burrowed only from the great JK Rowling – not that you didn't already know.

Through the Furnace

Last Time:

"Now of course I'll be looking after you, you being a Gryffindor and Salazar refusing to have much to do with you," Godric was saying as he paced the length of the tent. "Now to get you to trust me, which you must place all your trust in me, I'll let you 'interrogate' me."

"No, I couldn't." Harry protested shaking his head vehemently. "I couldn't do that."

Godric glanced sharply at Harry. "Why ever not, boy? Unlike you I am a willing 'victim' if you please."

"But..."

"Come now, lad, I will show you." Godric took a seat directly opposite Harry.

Chapter Nine. Identity Crisis

Harry eyed Godric who was waiting for him to do something expectantly. He did not wish to intrude on the great founder's memories and mind. Nevertheless he was sorely tempted. How many of his peers were lucky enough to glimpse into wizarding history from the one and only Gryffindor's mind?

Harry suppressed his curiosity and growing excitement classing it as something distinctly 'Slytherin' about him. He should not even wish to violate someone's mind

"You need not be afraid, child," Godric said softly. Harry's head shot towards the founder to gaze at him coolly. Who was this man to tempt him so?

"I am not afraid," Harry stubbornly replied irritated that his Gryffindor pride was so easily riled.

Godric chuckled genially and took Harry's slightly shaking hands in his own. "Then perhaps you need a skilled teacher."

Harry felt as if everything about him had immediately frozen. He wanted to protest; afraid there was some terrible trick or Godric would be mad at him for what he would see – it wasn't rational Harry knew. But this set of circumstances reminded him how angry Professor Snape had caught him in his Pensieve or worse his own indigent rage.

Nevertheless Godric Gryffindor didn't give Harry much time to contemplate the morality of plundering another's mind for he pressed the tips of Harry's finger tips to his temple with a soft smile.

"Concentrate," Godric said softly before closely his warm chocolate brown eyes. "I will show you."

Harry released a shuddering breath, one that he did not realise he had been holding in all this time, and closed his own eyes.

Very soon Harry could feel strange, yet somehow familiar, warmth in his finger tips. His first reaction was to jerk away from the foreign sensation but Godric held him firm. He knew the founder was smiling slightly by his nervous movements even though his eyes were not open. No – he could sense it.

"Follow the link between us…" Godric's voice cut through a strange hazey feeling in Harry's mind. It was much like being half asleep (or half awake) only that he seemed to be more aware of his through process.

Harry relented and followed the warmth knowing it would be too much of a bother to argue with Godric. So far the founder had kept his temper in check and Harry didn't want to be on the receiving end of the older wizard.

The word 'temper' stalled in his mind. The warmth fuzzed around him and Harry found himself looking down at a defiant boy, much the same age as he was.

'I hate you!' the boy shrieked. 'I hate you!'

A thousand emotions flooded Harry's mind almost too quick for him to register. Anger. Regret. Shame. Remorse. Fury. Pity. Sadness. Hoplessness…

'William…' Another voice assailed Harry but this time he recognised the tone as to belong to Godric. 'William please understand.'

The boy glanced up his blue eyes were as cold as steel and his stance became defensive. 'You killed her and I hate you.'

'What would you have had me do William?' Godric asked his voice eerily pleading.

'You could have saved her.'

The truth of those words cut Harry even though he had little idea of what was happening in Godric's mind, or was it his own mind? He felt the guilt tenfold which melted away swiftly into shame.

'I did what I had to, William,' Godric said softly, 'Go from these holdings if that is what you please. Ride out to your Grandfather, boy.'

'How can you be so calm?' William roared advancing now with purposeful strides. 'I lost my mother.'

'And I lost my wife, three brothers and a daughter, William,' Godric amended grinding his teeth together as if he could piece together the fraying shreds of his temper by the action. 'I grieve their losses sorely, my son.'

William froze shook slightly in his spot. 'Mother didn't have to die.'

'No, she didn't… I had a choice William… She asked me to save you and I did.'

'Since when do you ever listen to any but yourself?'

'William it was either you or her…'

'I would have rather it had been me.'

'Don't say that, William,' Godric said a little too firmly. 'You are my son…'

'I am no longer your son. I'm leaving this ill begotten place. And I wish to never see you again…'

William tearfully looked up at his father, nodded his head in firm resolve and then rushed from the room; crimson cloak billowing behind him like a quickly advancing thunderstorm.

Godric sighed turned to a desk, which seemed to have been overturned by a cyclone, and found a fairly decent piece of parchment, a quill and some ink and started to scribble down a note.

'Zorro…'

A gigantic black owl fluttered through the window. It was unlike any bird Harry had ever seen. Cool brown eyes glanced momentarily toward the master before the creature began to preen itself.

'Take this to my father in all haste… and watch over my William. Let yourself not be seen.'

The owl bobbed its head regally as if it was accepting a heroic mission of grave importance, produced its leg for the letter. Then once settled it soared out the window and up into fluffy white clouds…

HaRrY

pOtTeR

Hermione raced down the stairs, jumped the last three, sailed through the air and landed on Fred. Or was it George. Shaking her head she decided that it really didn't matter.

She stood quickly muttering her apologises to the devious twin who was eying her closely. And dashed from the room, well aware she would be soon followed by some of the younger occupants of Grimmauld Place.

Hermione darted towards the kitchen at a break neck speed. If any of the order were in the house they would be there: the non verbal meeting place.

She hit the door and came to an abrupt screeching halt. She was in luck. The only occupant glanced up dolefully. Remus Lupin was reintroducing himself to Barmy Barney's Brandy which he was particularly fond of.

"I've got a theory," Hermione blurted.

Remus' head lolled to the side lazily indicating that he was listening.

"Why would the Death Eaters place the Dark Mark into a secluded basin? Why not fire the feared mark for all to behold and fear?" Hermione determinedly continued starting to pace like a university lecturer who was playing 'guess what is in teacher's head.'

Remus raised his eyebrows drunkenly. Come to think of it he did looked decidedly green around the gills…

"I need a sample of that liquid. Not everything is as it seems."

Remus looked ruefully back to his bottle: not saying a word.

"Could you get me it?" Hermione pleaded. She knew that her words had seeped into Remus' mind not matter how much he had over indulged.

"It's destroyed," Remus sighed taking a large swig straight from the bottle ignoring what was in the glass. Hermione was frozen… her theory was lost. Could anything get any worse?

"Twas flammable…" Remus added as if it was any help.

Hermione could have cried.

hArRy

PoTtEr

The scene between father and son soon faded and Harry found himself staring into Godric's eyes. Godric let Harry's hands fall with a sorrowful sigh.

"I'm dreadfully sorry," Harry murmured folding his hands in his lap and staring rather determinedly at his feet.

"You worry needlessly: it happened many, many years ago now," Godris replied gently standing smoothly and turning to fumble with a pitcher and goblet.

Harry watched Gryffindor with renewed wonder as the man poured and downed two goblets of bitter liquid. Each great gulp caused a scrunched expression on the founders face. It made him look older than his years…

"Many years?" Harry piped. "But… you…"

Godric chuckled and pushed the beverage away before looking at Harry levelly. "This body, dear child, has not aged for many years now."

Harry was left gaping, his mind scrambling to link this information together.

"William my eldest died an old man three years ago leaving me five grandchildren and fourteen great -grandchildren…."

"But you look so… too young…"

"My body as not aged, Harry," Godric soothed. "I am essentially an old man but my body is that of a warrior and somewhat younger wizard… I need it to be able to protect my people. Our people. An old cripple man is hardly any held in a war."

"I suppose not," Harry agreed hurriedly. "The other founders…"

"Are just as ancient as I," Godric finished.

Harry nodded and blushed profusely feeling very awkward in finding out exactly how old his guardian was.

"Of course I must come up with a cover story to explain your presence…" Godric seemed thoughtful for a moment. "You are my only daughter's grandson, who was fostered out to the Crowcrofts when both your parents and grandparents were gruesomely murdered by muggles. Pleased to meet you Alecander Jonathan Burleigh…"

Godric held out his hand which Harry gingerly took. Godric clapped Harry's cheeks playfully. "Don't worry 'Alecander' I will protect you."

"Why would I have lived with the Crowcrofts and not…"

"Me?"

Harry, the newly named 'Alecander', nodded.

"Your grandfather, the husband of my daughter, the distinguished, Lord Burleigh of Guise had very little love for me. Has the head of the Burleigh clan and your grand –sire on your 'father's' side he had more say than I over any children. Dear Lord Burleigh would have sent any grandchildren to his daughter in law's parents – the Crowcrofts."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Fortunately there were no grandchildren for Lord Burleigh to severe from Gryffindor influence. The likelihood any would question your existence is minimal."

Harry stood in his seat staring at his hands.

"Don't be afraid, Harry, I will protect you."