Author's note: Hehe, no worries about Voldemort turning good in my story.

OOOOOOOOO

By the time they started to descend, Jack was freezing. Wearing just the clothing he'd gone out to dinner in – and didn't that seem like a lifetime ago? – he had very little protection from the chill night, the buffeting wind, and the crazy swirls of wind that were generated by the wings of the creature he was riding. As a consequence, he was shivering, his goose bumps had goose bumps, and his teeth were chattering so hard he was sure they were going to break off any moment now.

When the thestral banked sharply to the right, Jack had to grasp hold with fingers that were numb to keep from falling off. The creature snorted, lowering its head, but luckily for Jack it didn't buck him off – or shake him off, or whatever it was that flying zombie looking horses did to people that they didn't like. It just followed the other thestral that Voldemort was riding.

The sky was just starting to lighten in the east – enough that Jack could see they were now coming in low over some kind of forest – a large one, as far as he could tell, although they were soon aiming for a small clearing of some sort and he didn't have a chance to get much of a bearing. The thestral landed heavily, jolting Jack enough to remind him that there were other disadvantages to an extended ride. He winced, and shifted on the bare back – and almost tumbled off.

Voldemort's mount came to a stop, and the wizard slid off – looking just a little stiff, too, Jack was gratified to see. When his thestral came to a snorting halt, Jack scrambled off as well, and Voldemort gave him a look that made him scowl.

"I thought you liked to fly, Jack," Voldemort said.

"That's not an airplane," O'Neill snapped, gesturing over his shoulder at the thestral. "Look, this isn't family hour field trip day, so why don't you tell me where we're going and we can get there, huh?"

Voldemort pulled his wand, and pointed it toward the trees to their left. He muttered something Jack couldn't understand, and a moment later the smaller brush and vegetation moved to the sides, creating something of a path.

Voldemort turned to Jack.

"The Forbidden Forest is aptly named, Jack. There are many dangers in here that-"

"I've been in forests before," Jack interrupted. "Just go, okay, and spare me the lecture about tree safety."

It wasn't like he was planning on building a campfire after all.

The wizard scowled.

"Try not get killed before I find out what the prophecy says, okay?"

"Whatever."

Voldemort headed into the forest; following the path he'd just created, but he tried once more to impress on Jack just how dangerous the place was. He turned and looked over his shoulder.

"Don't walk off the path."

"Why?"

"Because it would be bad."

"Bad?"

"As in not good."

It was Jack's turn to scowl again.

"And if I trip over a root or something and fall off the path…?"

"Don't."

He was serious, and Jack could see it. He snorted.

"Tell me you're not afraid of a forest…?" he said sarcastically. "What? Are there woodchucks in here that might-"

"Shut up!" Voldemort hissed, losing his temper – again. "Just do what I tell you and stay on the path."

Jack grinned. He'd pissed him off again. Good.

"How about I just stay on the path until we get to wherever we're going?"

Voldemort looked like his head was going to explode – especially once he realized that O'Neill was purposely baiting him. He wasn't used to that sort of thing – most of the wizard world feared him, and everyone knew Muggles were too stupid and uninformed to know what was going on in the real world, or they'd fear him too. Only Jack seemed to positively delight in annoying him, and Voldemort couldn't for the life of him understand why.

With as much dignity as he could muster – and taking all the self-control he possessed – Voldemort got his temper under control once more and turned hi back on O'Neill, resolutely watching the direction they were going instead. With all luck, the prophecy would say that Jack was an enemy to Voldemort's cause, giving him full cause to just kill him and dump the body someplace so far away the bugs wouldn't even find him.

Still grinning, Jack followed Voldemort down the little path he'd made with his wand. He didn't like forests, true, but it was worth walking through this one just to have seen that look on Voldemort's face.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Cassandra Trelawny?" Dumbledore repeated. "Are you certain, Severus?"

Snape nodded.

"Positive."

"There have been many rumors and stories about the lost prophecies of Cassandra Trelawny… No one has ever actually found out where they were stored – or even if they still exist…"

"I know, Head Master," Snape said, and to Harry it sure sounded like Snape was trying to convince him to believe him. "But that's what I found out. There's a place in the Forbidden Forest that stores the lost prophecies… and one of them has something to do with Colonel Jack O'Neill."

"And you're certain that's where Voldemort is going?"

"Yes."

"You know where it is?" Dumbledore asked. "Can you find it?"

"I believe so."

"Very well. We need to contact the others. Wait here while I speak to Harry, and-"

"Head Master… I don't have to tell you how important it is that you don't allow Potter to join this exp-"

"Harry Potter's health and well being are my concern, Severus," Dumbledore said, firmly. "Please allow me to deal with him."

There was a hesitation, and as much as Harry wanted to know what Snape was going to say, he also knew that there was a time to be prudent. He had to hide the fact that he'd been listening in on a conversation he had no business listening to – although he was glad that he had. Quickly, he started pulling in the extendible ear, while Dobby watched in fascination.

"Don't tell anyone, Dobby," Harry whispered. "Please?"

The house elf just nodded.