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

A/N: Thanks to Lady Spellweaver who shared her insane ideas with little ol' me. Thanks darl!

Through the Furnace

Previously in Through the Furnace theme song plays

"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?"

Chapter Twelve. Oh Bother!

"Obvious I don't see how it is obvious boy?" Slytherin snarled from his standing post.

Harry ignored the snarly founder and caught Godric's eye instead who nodded for him to continue. "Myself," Harry answered.

Helga and Rowena shared nervous glances. "My dear there are certain risks," Rowena cautioned while Helga decided to scrunch her fists up in her lap.

A loud crash outside reminded the five humans that their were vampires actually attacking the encampment and they needed to act quickly before they were inevitably found.

"Look," Harry said in a whisper feigning respect he wasn't feeling at that point of time. "I'm the only 'thing' that can possibly get us to the future. I haven't got anything with me."

"True," Helga conceded.

"Helga you aren't helping me!" Rowena hissed in almost a sing song voice.

Helga twiddled her hair with her long delicate fingers and hummed in reply.

"Please decide quickly and let me know!" Salazar drawled impatiently. "There are vampires out their keen on getting blood."

"Look I'm willing to take the risks," Harry snapped.

"Typical Gryffindor bravado," Slytherin murmured.

Harry rolled his eyes again forgetting completely his promise to Godric that he would behave himself.

"Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you." Rowena sighed melodramatically as she turned back to the scroll she had been studying. "Everyone hold hands."

Harry moved in eyeing each of the founders. He quickly found his right hand clamped in Godric's a moment later. Salazar didn't seem so keen on taking his however. Harry assumed it might be something along the lines of Slytherin having a problem with his blood lines or something like that.

When the circle was complete, Rowena started chanting something in an incomprehensible language.

Harry squeezed his emerald eyes shut as he felt Lady Ravenclaw's heavy hand over his head. Oddly enough he felt weak at the knees as if he was ready to faint. He pushed back the humiliating thought of actually fainting and locked his knees.

A zing of power weaved itself around Harry's body feeling strangely snake like. For a moment Harry's brain activity seemed to have frozen. A picture of Helga's Cup came instantly to his mind. His every core seemed to have been fixed on the cup, to the gold texture down to the badger symbol.

Slowly Harry attention was taken away again. A few seemingly unconnected words filtered through his mind. Saarbruken. Schatten-Geheimnisse.

A picture formed slowly of green sloping hills, a dark wild forest and a large intimidating ruin.

Somehow Harry knew this was all connected. Somehow.

Harry was vaguely aware of the pull behind his navel and his own shout of surprise of the sudden jerk. The ruin stared to fade away and was replaced with a grim blackness. His knees gave way and he seemed to fall into a great pit of blackness.

"Oh bother," a voice said above him.

"Is this even England? I had the distinct impression that was our destination."

"I'm home!"

'

'

'

Ron was thoroughly and utterly annoyed. No matter how much Hermione pleaded, coerced, blackmailed, begged, grovelled or whatever you pleased to call it the Order would not give them any idea of the whereabouts of one Severus Snape.

Ron trudged up the stairs fuelling his temper with all the foul names he could give his ex-potion master gone murderer. He had something to do with Harry's disappearance he was sure. It would be something the slimy good for nothing Slytherin would do.

To make matters worse Hermione hadn't come up with Plan B, not even Plan C looked likely.

Therefore Ron figured he'll take matters into his own hand and go back to his Plan A and hoped it worked. He didn't know even why he was bothering. It wasn't going to work. It was difficult to let go of his best friend: not knowing if he was going to see Harry's face again.

Almost reflexively Ron opened his door took up his quill and wrote Harry the longest letter ever composed by Ronald Bilius Weasley. His quill sped over the parchment filling it with his untidy scrawl. Finally he finished to his satisfaction signed it with a flourish.

Hedwig who had set up with Ron since Harry decided to go missing was watching him from the sill of the window. She bobbed her head curiously at the red head Gryffindor and hooted before holding out her leg.

Ron was confused. The last seventy or so times he tried to send Hedwig she seemed reluctant. Now she seemed eager to be off. Did this mean something had happened to Harry? So with shaking hands he attached the letter and stepped backwards to watch.

Hedwig spread her strong wings and with two strong beats she was in the air. Ron dashed to widow in time to see Hedwig already disappearing over the London horizon. Strange. Ron scratched his head. Every other time she flew around Grimmauld Place a few times before returning.

Realisation hit Ron like a thunder bolt.

"Hermione!"

'

'

'

"Argh!" Harry raised his hand to block out the bright light assailing his eyes. Pain sliced through his head and he groaned again.

"Harry are you alright?" Harry blinked stupidly before glancing through his webbed fingers. Godric Gryffindor's concerned face swam above him.

"I told you there were risks," Rowena huffed proudly.

"Gah," Harry mumbled and closed his eyes.

"There, there," Godric murmured carding his hands through Harry's ebony hair. "Let's get you to your feet."

Harry hadn't realised that he was lying across Gryffindor's lap and groaned finding his cheeks redden in embarrassment. Gryffindor pointedly ignored his and heaved Harry up and supported the young Gyrffindor as he swayed uncertainly.

"It would be helpful if you could kindly tell us where in Merlin's name we are, boy." Harry winced at Slytherin's cutting tone.

Harry held his head and blinked as he glanced around uncertainly. Green sloping hills, forest, ruin all surrounded them. Harry bit his tongue and cast his mind back fighting for the memory before he had fallen unconscious.

"I remember seeing Helga's cup," Harry mumbled. "Then this place. Words came to me. Saarbruken, place in Germany. A strange name followed. Schatten – Geh…"-

"Schatten-Geheimnisse," Helga squealed. The other three founders stared dumbly at her while Harry winced and held his throbbing head.

"Schatten-Geheimnisse," Helga gestured widely grinning like a lunatic. Apparently this was suppose to mean something. "Oh don't you ever listen to me?"

Slytherin was about to answer 'no' when he thought better of it. Bad enough that Helga was the only person that was not completely lost; he wasn't going to cause another argument between the others and himself.

"It's the Hufflepuff ancestral home!"

"Oh," Harry muttered still holding his head.

"Harry, is not Helga's cup a horcrux that you are searching for?" Godric prodded gently.

Harry nodded wearily.

"Then maybe it is here somewhere," Ravenclaw suggested evenly.

"Perhaps," Slytherin conceded. "Perhaps not."

Harry's eyes lit up. "The only way is to search for it ourselves," he said glaring at the large building. "I bet anything that it is!"