There were gasps from the assorted group at the doorway, and Malfoy looked like he was going to be sick – which might have been a side-effect of the torture he'd just endured – but Jack ignored them, and the sounds of surprise coming from his own team. His own skeptical nature was still very much in command, and he was, by nature, hard to shock.

"Excuse me?" He asked, his eyebrow doing a fair imitation of the thing Teal'c always did with his. "Little brother?"

The man who had named himself as Voldemort smiled, and it was an evil smile.

"Of course you did not know, Jack…" he said, and his voice was just as silky as Malfoy's had been – before Jack had antagonized him into losing his cool. "How could you? No one told you."

"I've been to the family reunions," Jack said, folding his arms across his chest and wondering what the heck the guy was trying to accomplish by saying something so outlandish. "I'm pretty sure I would have remembered seeing you there."

"Master, how could this be?" One of the men at the door asked, stunned. "He's a Muggle and you're-"

Voldemort turned towards the group at the door and the man fell silent, shrinking back into the crowd, all of whom were trying to move away from him on the off-chance he was going to be taught a lesson.

Jack didn't miss that, and neither did the rest of SG-1. The guy might be a froot loop, but he was definitely feared by the people around him, and there had to be a reason. Which meant that he couldn't be dismissed too readily.

"Leave us."

They all scampered out of the doorway, and Wormtail couldn't get into the crowd fast enough. Malfoy hesitated, though, and Voldemort gestured to him.

"You may stay, Lucius. But you will keep silent."

"Yes, Master."

Satisfied that he would be obeyed – another thing that Jack didn't miss – Voldemort turned back to Jack and his team.

"You are curious how I know of our relationship while you do not…"

Jack scowled.

"We don't have a relationship."

"Oh, but we do. It's time for a history lesson, Jack."

"This is ridiculous!" Jack had had enough, and while the others were out of the room he and his team outnumbered Voldemort and Malfoy two to one – almost three to one since Teal'c was more than a match for either of the two, as he'd already proven to Malfoy. "We're out of here…"

He headed for the door, more than ready to bully his way past the two, and if he had to, he'd use one of them as a hostage against the good behavior of the other people, who probably hadn't gone all that far away.

"You'll stay and listen," Voldemort said, raising the hand that held the wand.

"Go to he-"

Before he'd even finished the sentence, the impossible happened. One minute he was only a few feet from Voldemort, ready to knock him to the ground if necessary, and the next minute there were ropes coming at him from the tip of the wand. Before Jack could do anything, he found himself neatly tied up, the ropes completely around his body, his arms pinned to his sides and his balance completely shot because his legs were tied as well.

"What the-"

A quick look at the others showed them all in the same position; neatly tied up and teetering.

"Help them sit down, Lucius," Voldemort ordered. "Carefully."

Meaning he didn't want them hurt, no matter what Malfoy wanted to do.

"Yes, Master."

Lucius jumped forward and carefully – far more carefully than he wanted to – helped SG-1 into positions on the floor, with their backs braced against the closest wall. Voldemort came over to stand in front of Jack once more, looking down at him.

"Now… where was I…?"

"You were telling O'Neill of your relationship," Teal'c said, struggling against the ropes that had him tied, but obviously curious about what was going on. Of all of them, he was the least phased by what was going on – of course, he was also the only one who had believed in the people that were now quite obviously their captors.

"Yes…"

Jack scowled at Teal'c, and then looked up at Voldemort.

"We don't have a relationship."

"But we could have, Jack," Voldemort said, smoothly. "And we should have. We have much in common, after all. Both of us were sired by a man who had no desire to raise children – only produce them."

"What?"

"My father abandoned my mother – once he found out she was a witch. Then he moved back into his parents' house, ignoring the woman who was to bear his child – and completely unconcerned when she died in childbirth. I was taken to an orphanage – abandoned by my father who felt himself too good to be associated with a witch or her offspring."

There was true hate in his expression, now, but Jack didn't have a clue what any of this had to do with him. Before he could say anything, though, Voldemort continued.

"Little did he know, he, too, carried in his lines the blood of wizards. Far back in his ancestry, a great grandchild of one of the most powerful wizards that ever lived was born without any magic at all – we call those people Squibs, Jack, and they're the lowest of the low in the wizarding world. Mortified, the parents of the child sent him off to live in the Muggle world that he would fit into far easier than the one he'd been born into. And when he grew older, he married a Muggle woman and continued the line – and never told any of them what he had once been part of. So my father sprang from this line, and while the magic has never manifested itself in the people of his lineage, it's always been there – and always will. Magic is in the blood, after all."

"What does this have to do-"

"With you?" Voldemort interrupted. "Everything. My father's parents decided that he needed to be sent away for a while – people in the village knew who he was, after all, and they looked down on him for abandoning my mother and leaving me to the orphanage. His parents hated that, because they saw themselves as pillars of the community – and pillars like that could not be tarnished with such scandal. They sent him overseas. To the United States. And there he met your mother."

"What?"

Jack scowled, but again Voldemort didn't let him speak.

"He met your mother, and seduced her, promising her the world if only she would love him. Your mother was as foolish as mine was, and believed him. And found herself pregnant with you. And perhaps this time my father meant to keep those promises – except that his parents sent for him to return to their village where things had now settled down. They were getting older, and wanted him close. Without looking back, your father abandoned you and your mother and left the United States to return to live in the luxury of the large manor he'd been born in."

"You're lying!" Jack said, furious. "My father was a good man. The best."

"The man who raised you was," Voldemort corrected. "Your father, however, was a disgrace to the blood that flowed in his veins, and when I returned later and killed him, I made sure he knew it. I also made sure he knew just what he was before I killed him. Imagine, the great-great many times great grandson of Godric Gryffindor thinking that wizards were beneath him."