Considering what it looked like on the outside, the inside of the shack was amazing. He could see shelves against the far wall, neatly holding what looked like several hundred of the same kind of spheres that Voldemort had shown him back in his hideout. There were furnishings, too. An ancient couch that looked brand new was up against the wall closest to Jack, a table that was covered with a cheerfully colored tablecloth, and a single chair pushed neatly against that table were against the wall to the right. The middle of the room was empty and neat, with odd carpeting of a color that Jack couldn't even put a name to.

All of this he saw in the very first instant he crossed the threshold of the shack. An instant later, he felt something catch hold of him and literally freeze him in mid-step. Before he could start to panic or struggle, he heard a woman's voice.

Finally!

The cheerfulness of that voice made Jack hesitate. The fact that he was certain he only heard it in his mind – it was suspiciously similar to the time he'd put that talking hat on his head back when he'd first learned that magic did, indeed, exist – made him aware immediately that this wasn't ordinary. Of course, nothing he'd done so far the last day was ordinary, for that matter.

Jack looked around for the source of that voice, and heard a chuckle.

I'm not here.

"Let me go…"

Certainly.

He felt himself freed from the grip of whatever it was that was holding him, and took another step, deeper into the room.

"Thanks."

You're welcome. Just as you are welcomed here

"Who are you?"

It wasn't the only question Jack had in his head just then, but it was the first that popped out.

A spirit.

"A ghost?"

No. Not quite. There isn't really time to explain – especially since you wouldn't understand-

"Try me," Jack interrupted, annoyed. He wasn't stupid, after all, and he was tired of having people treat him like he was just some dumb… Muggle… to use their own word. Magic might be complicated, but he was well accustomed to complicated things. He dealt with Carter every day, after all, and everything that came out of her mouth was complicated.

I'm magic.

Jack scowled.

"No shit."

Again there was a chuckle.

Purely magic, Colonel O'Neill. I was created with a spell to guard this dwelling, and to welcome you when you came.

"You know my name?"

That was another thing he was getting tired of. Everyone seemed to know him.

I didn't until you walked into this dwelling. But I have been waiting for you for a long time.

"Me?"

The Dark One's only brother.

Now the scowl deepened, but only because Jack hated being connected to Voldemort.

"It's not by choice."

Of course it isn't. We cannot choose our relatives, after all.

"You know, he's outside…"

He cannot come in here.

"He's going to walk through the door just like I did," Jack said, turning towards the door – only to find it wasn't there any longer. "Where'd it go?"

The door is still there. You just cannot see it – and neither will he.

"He's going to go nuts," Jack said, not feeling at all bad about that. "We've been looking for this place all morning."

It was his destiny to bring you to me, although he knew it not.

"Bring me?" Jack repeated. "He kidnapped me."

There is no record of his methods. Only that he was to bring you.

"Does he know that?"

Of course not.

"Then how come-"

I told you it was complicated. But the Seeress knew you would come, and here you are.

"What Seeress?"

Cassandra Trelawney. The woman who created me.

OOOOOOOO

"Jack!"

Voldemort was livid. Beyond livid. The stupid Muggle had stepped through the door – just like he'd told him not to – and had triggered some kind of spell. Voldemort wasn't exactly sure what that spell was. All he knew for sure was that the door had vanished – or more likely there was a spell on it to make it look like it was gone – and Jack was nowhere in sight. Which meant he was inside the shack – and was probably snooping around breaking things that Voldemort absolutely had to see. Or he was dead, which was a much more pleasing scenario – even though the Dark Lord really did need his brother alive.

"Jack!"

When there was no answer, Voldemort pointed his wand at the place that he was relatively certain the door had been. Now there was only a blank wall that looked just like the other walls of the building.

"Entradiance!"

A bolt of light and force shot out of the tip of his wand towards that space – and was immediately deflected and sent right back at him.

Cursing, the Dark Lord dove to the side, rolling on the soft turf and making a sweeping motion with his wand, blocking the bolt before it could reach him. Barely. He rolled to his feet, eyes watching the shack warily for any other attack.

"Jack!"

When there was no answer – not that he expected one – the Dark Lord raised his wand again, a million evil thoughts and spells going through his mind as he tried to decide what to try next to force his way in. There was no way he was going to let some building – even one with obvious warding spells – keep him from his destiny, after all.