Disclaimer: Not mine. Burrowed only from the great JK Rowling – not that you didn't already know.
A/N: Still having a mental break down.
Through the Furnace
Chapter Eleven. Are You Serious!
"You're joking, right?" Harry demanded quietly as Gryffindor led him back to their private tent. Harry felt torn, apart of him was excited about the plan the lion founder had come up with, his second half however was telling him it was definitely a bad idea. This sentiment was further backed up by Salazar Slytherin, himself who rarely agreed with someone of lesser 'blood.'
"I don't joke, Alecander," Godric said sternly. Harry glared at the back of Godric's tunic. In just a few short hours Godric had began to annoy him by using his new name. He made it sound like he Harry was some sort of pet he was quite fond of. The man was starting to remind him of Dumbledore.
"But you can't…"
"Why not, Alecander?" Godric demanded sharply.
"Because it's foolish, that's why." Harry opted to use Slytherin's comments figuring if anything these might have an impact on Godric.
"Boy's tongue runnin' 'way from 'im, is it, me laird?" Both Godric and Harry glowered at Shelby who swaggered from the other side of the tent. Godric had the disinsict impression Shelby had be waiting for them to return. "Those Burleighs bin spoilin' 'im. Nothin' like a good beltin' ta keep 'im in line."
Harry's frowned deepened glaring frostily at Shelby who didn't look at all perturbed.
"Alecander, go into the tent and wait for me there," Godric murmured placing his hand on Harry's shoulder lightly and driving him forward with a slight nudge. Harry stumbled slightly and slunk past the smirking Shelby.
"He won't be so high and mighty if you showed him his place, me laird," Harry heard Shelby reply to Godric. He didn't hang around to hear Godric's reply and stomped through the entrance of the tent and slumped himself in a chair to await his ancient guardian's entrance.
Harry didn't have to wait long until Godric himself breezed through. Harry refused to meet the founder's eye as the man started to strip off his out robes, but that didn't stop him from watching warily from the corner of his eye.
"You shall show your elders some respect, Alecander."
Harry's head shot up as Godric's voice rang through the tent. Harry forced himself not to roll his eyes and reply with a snarly comment.
"We don't need more difficulties with the likes of Shelby noticing you're not quiet the medieval gentleman. Therefore you shall behave yourself at all times."
Harry stared up at Godric in silence.
"Is that understood, Alecander?"
"Yes…" and because Harry felt he ought to say it. "…sir."
Godric nodded his head in approval. "Better. Now to answer your earlier question yes I'm serious about my plan and no I'm not 'screwed in the head' as you so elegantly phrased it."
Harry grumbled internally instead of making a verbal reply.
"Rowena has the year we need to 'skip' now all we need is something from that year."
Harry glanced down at his feet. He had nothing left from that period. The fire had seen to that.
"Why come to the future, anyway…" when Godric raised his eyebrow Harry hastily added a quick, "sir?"
Godric didn't answer at first, he pulled off his shirt above his head leaving himself bare chest and poured some wine. Harry watched every move he made like hawk, waiting for the answer. Finally however Godric took a seat opposite Harry and looked him full in the eye.
"I've been fighting for the good of the magical world too long not to invest time in the future."
"Why do you even care?" Harry snapped feeling particularly moody.
Godric blinked and stood swiftly a soft moan of stiffness belied the age of his muscles. "I'm dying Alecander, my end is rushing upon me swiftly. I envy you my friend, so young and full of life ever ready for the future." Godric chuckled sadly at this. "You are the future, Alec. In my heart I know this is the last chance for Godric Gryffindor, the old lion, to fight and protect his people."
Harry sat stunned in his chair and watched nervously as Godric seemed to pace the room. Strong hands gripped his shoulders momentarily before slipping through his raven hair.
"I've still much to atone for," Godric concluded quickly before snapping his hands away and retreating out of the tent once more, leaving Harry alone to contemplate what Godric had said.
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It was beginning to get late, ten maybe eleven o'clock at night, by Harry's reckoning and yet Godric still had not returned. Harry curled up in one of the chairs in the tent with his chin resting on his knees. He didn't feel comfortable sleeping in the founder's bed if it would be wanted later. At the same time he was incredibly wide awake and bored. But between the deathly stillness of the camp and the dull buzzing in Harry's sleepy brain he found himself dozing off.
It was the sound of someone dashing inside the tent that jerked Harry into wakefulness immediately. Blinking furiously and scrambling to his feet Harry faced the blurred outline of the intruder. The intruder stepped quickly into the tent but as it was pitch black Harry realised with a panic that he had no way of knowing who or what it was.
Scrambling back a few steps Harry searched for his wand and realised too late it wasn't were he thought he had left it.
Breathing quickly in a pure state of panic Harry murmured to himself… "Lumos… Lumos… LUMOS!"
A small beam of light grew steadily inside the tent lighting up the face of Harry's attacker. He was a tall man with long black braids and a messy beard that could rival Hagrid's. Menacing eyes looked coldly down at Harry, scrutinising him with foul intent. Thin lips drew back and glittering white fangs were bared. The 'man' took another step forward.
'This is it, I'm going to die,' Harry thought squeezing his eyes tightly shut.
"Harry!"
Another set of heavy footsteps careered into the tent. Eyes still tightly shut Harry heard the heavy gasp followed by a second voice whispering an unknown spell.
A bright green light filtered through Harry's closed eyelids. He reeled away instantly remember the similar green flash that haunted him in his nightmares. Instead of finding himself dead however Harry found himself sitting on the floor staring into the faces of Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor.
Gryffindor was peering into Harry's face with concern and offered his hand to help him to his feet.
Salazar on the other hand attention was attracted by the small light emitted from Harry's wand, which still lay on the other side of the tent.
"You should never be without your wand, boy," Godric barked almost angrily.
"Sorry," Harry muttered accepting the lion founder's hand.
Godric sniffed indifferently. "Sorry doesn't cut it, lad. You could have been hurt, or killed or worse…"
'Worse? What could be worse then getting oneself killed?' Harry's thoughts must have shown on his face because Slytherin gestured at the crumpled form at Godric's feet.
"Vampire, boy," Slytherin hissed irritably. "You would have been in a fine mess if you got yourself turned by the likes of him."
Harry unconsciously took a few steps away while Slytherin continued to stare at him appraisingly. "Get your wand boy," Salazar finally ground out.
Harry almost tripped over himself as he passed the older wizards to retrieve his wand. While his back was turned however, Slytherin cast a stinging hex. The hex hit Harry causing him to yelp and drop his wand to the floor.
"Let that be a stern reminder of the lesson you have been taught," Salazar said airily pointedly ignoring Harry's scowl of righteous anger.
Godric, much to Harry's chagrin, agreed with Slytherin with a curt nod. He turned abruptly on his heel and grabbed Harry's upper forearm and dragged him towards the tent entrance. Harry was not ready for the scene of chaos that met his curious eyes.
"What's happening?" Harry blurted.
Godric didn't answer but gripped Harry a little more firmly and forcefully pulled him through the camp.
Harry however didn't much mind this small discomfort. His eyes swept over the camp which was burning in places, thick clouds of smoke rising above the tents. A few wizards skulked in shadows, dark cloaks distorting their shapes.
"Vampires," Slytherin hissed in Harry's ear. Harry squirmed away slightly for the snake founder's breath tickled his ear. "Now be quiet, boy."
The three wizards slunk through the shadows of the tents making their way to a blue and bronze tent that Harry assumed was Rowena Ravenclaw's. He didn't have too long to contemplate before he was pushed through the entrance and found himself in the hands of the overly wrought female founders.
"I have the spell almost finished. All I need is something from the year we want to skip to," Ravenclaw muttered wringing her hands. "But the boy has nothing."
Harry rolled his eyes before he could stop himself and earning himself a cuff behind the head from Godric. Rubbing his head slowly Harry ruefully glanced at Rowena. "Isn't the answer obvious?"
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A/N: I know I have promised some people to finish this fiction. I'm really having a tough time with it – now I feel I may have spoiled the whole story. It feels a little (dare I say it?) – well stupid. Should I delete or should I soldier on?