"Quickly!"

The thing had a deep voice that was lower even than Teal'c's, and Jack stared at him dumb with shock and the pain that was still lancing through his body, even though Voldemort had been stopped.

Impatiently, it reached down and grabbed Jack by the back of his jacket, pulling him to his feet. O'Neill stumbled, falling against the horse's shoulder – which was warm and powerful, and made the whole scene that much more unbelievable.

"Come with me," the centaur said, pulling Jack around again.

Feeling like a rag doll in its powerful grip, Jack stumbled once more, and he could feel the thing's impatience as he crashed into the horse part again.

"Stop that!" Jack snapped, finally gaining control of his voice – if not his body – and trying to jerk free.

"Come on!"

The thing made a noise that sounded like more of a snort of an angry horse and Jack felt himself being lifted completely off his feet. A moment later he was thrown over the back of the horse end, the coarse hair of the creature's coat nothing like any horse he'd ever touched before.

"I have him! Let's go!"

The thing whirled – impressive considering how small the room was and how very large he was – and then bolted out the hole in the wall so quickly that Jack would have surely tumbled off the other end if not for one of the other centaurs coming up beside him and grabbing him before he could. The last of the three charged Snape and Voldemort once more, knocking them back to the ground before either could reach for a wand, and then they were gone in a flurry of horse tails and heavy hoof-beats.

He turned, his cheek against the flank of the creature he was sprawled on, and saw Voldemort coming out of the hole in the wall, his wand in his hand. Before he could see anything else, though, they entered the forest, blocking Jack's view of the small clearing. And the awkward ride got a lot worse as the centaurs picked up speed, galloping through the forest at a pace Jack knew no horse could have managed.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Arrrrggggghhhh!"

It was a scream of frustrated fury, and Snape turned to Voldemort, warily, his own wand still on the ground where the centaur's arrow had knocked it and his forehead cut from the unexpected attack.

"Don't just stand there!" Voldemort screeched, all pretense of control completely gone. "Let's go!"

"My Lord…"

"Now!"

Voldemort wasn't in the mood for any conversation.

"Yes, my Lord."

Wiping blood from his bleeding forehead off with the sleeve of his robes, Snape went to retrieve his wand, while Voldemort fumed. As soon as Snape was close, he snapped his fingers.

"Give me your arm."

"My Lord-"

"Now!"

Snape held out his arm, and pulled up the sleeve, revealing a large tattoo – the mark of the Deatheaters. As Voldemort started to touch it with his wand, however, he looked over Voldemort's shoulder, and pushed the Dark Lord to the side. Just in time. A bolt of pure energy came out of the forest, whizzing right past the spot where Voldemort had stood only moments before.

"What out!" he yelled, bringing his own wand to bear as Voldemort tumbled to the ground and then rolled over, trying to get back to his feet.

"Damn it!"

The curse came from out of nowhere, and was followed by another bolt of energy. This time Snape deflected it with a wave of his wand. The bolt struck a tree nearby, splitting it in half.

Wands ready, now, Voldemort and Snape turned to face the source of that attack, and Voldemort's shock was plain to see – even on his pale, almost featureless face.

"You!"

Dumbledore emerged from the forest, wand held at the ready. Ranged beside him were Hagrid, Lupin, and McGonagall. Behind them, mostly out of sight, were the Muggles. One other figure had emerged, however. One that Voldemort had been certain he wouldn't see again.

Sirius Black.

Sirius had his wand out as well, hatred in his eyes greater than the shock in Voldemort's. He had plenty of reason to hate the Dark Lord, after all.

"Me," he agreed.

"You're dead!"

Black didn't reply. Before anyone could say anything else, his wand moved, and another bolt of force emerged from the tip, aimed directly for the Dark Lord. It was intended to be a killing shot, and if it had landed it certainly would have finished things – probably. It never had the chance, however.

Reacting quickly – far faster than anyone would have given him credit for – Snape reached down, grabbed Voldemort, and the two of them vanished with a loud crack.

"Damn it!" Sirius cursed, just as frustrated as Voldemort had been only minutes before.

Dumbledore sighed, lowering his wand.

"Relax, Sirius."

"Did you see that?" Black snapped, ignoring Dumbledore's order. "He took him! I had him! I told you that you couldn't trust the slimy-"

"Sirius."

Dumbledore's voice didn't rise, but it still cracked like a whip, and Sirius fell silent.

"There is a reason for all things," the old wizard said. "This was not the time to get into a pitched battle with Voldemort – not when he could have so easily called his followers to his aid – and us without many for backup."

"I would have willingly joined the battle," Teal'c said from behind Hagrid – who had been the only one of the wizards big enough to hide the Jaffa.

Dumbledore nodded.

"I know. But without magic – in the situation we were in – you would not have lasted long. No matter how brave. It was fortunate Severus took that option from Voldemort when he apparated with him."

"Fortunate?" Sirius turned, furious that Dumbledore would even think that Snape had done them a favor. "He just showed his true loyalty, that's all!"

Uncertain what was going on exactly, Daniel stepped out from behind Minerva, looking around.

"Where's Jack?"

That stopped Sirius' ranting before it could really get started, and he and the others looked about the clearing. In front of them was the little shack, a gaping large hole in one entire side. Amazingly, even as they watched, the hole began to close; the wall becoming whole once more.