Disclaimer—see previous chapters

A/N—Sorry I took so long to update. But I finally got the motivation back-but when I finished, the site refused to load the blasted document, or I would've had this up several days ago!

Now, thanks to all who've reviewed, both the original and the newer reviewers. I don't have a list of those reviewers handy as I type this up, but still, you know who you are, don't you?

Also, you'll notice a couple numbers placed in the chapter. Those are footnotes, for details that aren't relevant to the chapter. Now, enjoy.

It was a dark night (not really a surprise this time, is it?), but no clouds. Occasional fireworks could be heard through my open window, and I was comforting my niece's dog. (Yes, I was watching her again). She gets nervous around fireworks, especially the ones loud enough to be gunshots, so I ran my hands through her golden fur to hold her trembling at bay…but I digress. As I said, I was calming her, when He appeared. Such a tall and sinister figure he was; I don't think you need me to name him, do you? You know who it was.

"Well, boy," he hissed, "it seems we finally meet face-to-face. Have a seat, why don't you?" He gestured toward my bed with his wand.

I sat. What else could I do?

The dog sensed my fear, and now it was her turn to try and calm my fears. She nosed my hand, and I absently patted her head.

"So—touching. Now sit still and listen! You ruined my life! You took away my power! You killed me! Though I came back, but that's not the point! That battle was going so well, and you had to write that that BOY won? Pathetic."

"U-um, what took you so long to get around to visiting me?" I asked hesitantly.

"I was waiting to see if you'd correct that error, but it seems I overestimated your intelligence! You're a fool! A stupid, foolish boy." He glared at me, his face twisted with hate.

"Wh-what are y-y-you g-going t-to d-do to me?"

"I think I'll leave it up to your imagination. But wait, you must not have one, since it would be exactly equal to your intelligence. Maybe I'll have to tell you to get the maximum amount of your fear. You see, first, I'm going to ruin your life through the Imperious curse, and when I've had my fun, I'm going to kill you. Nobody will know it wasn't suicide, and even if they do suspect, they won't really care."

My eyes widened! "B-but if y-you k-kill me, w-won't that d-destroy you too?" I stammered.

"Hmm. For once in your boring little life, you have a legitimate point." His gaze turned down toward the floor, contemplating my statement, and he started muttering quietly, probably assuming I couldn't hear. "If he dies, I will cease to exist. The Horcruxes won't do much good if they don't exist anymore." He turned his vivid, scarlet-colored eyes back to me and in that cold, sibilant voice said, "It looks like there's been a change of plan. Instead of killing you, I'll torture you senseless."

I gulped—audibly. He smiled, sending shivers down my spine. He raised his wand, and I tried to look away, but it seemed my muscles wouldn't respond. I could only stare, with my mouth going dry and my eyes refusing to blink.

He just held it there for a minute, and I was driven out of my mind, wondering when he'd finally get it over with, but he just stood there with his evil grin plastered on his face. The suspense was killing me!

"Well, get it over with already!" I exclaimed in a fit of courage. His smile disappeared and his arm came down.

"Crucio!" Time seemed to slow down. I winced and closed my eyes, waiting for the curse to hit me. And waited. And waited some more. Eventually my mind worked out that he must have missed deliberately, to mess with my mind. Just as said mind was getting around to sending an all-clear signal to my eyes, he cast the curse again. "Crucio!" I watched seemingly in slow motion as the curse aimed for me. At the last moment, I blinked—and again felt nothing.

But as I opened my eyes for the second time, he cast the curse for the third. "CRUCIO!" This time I had no time to blink. I watched as the curse hit me—and dissipated. I felt nothing, not so much as the slightest twinge of sore muscles, or the pinprick of a needle.

My brain took several seconds to assimilate that fact, but once it kicked into gear, I took a look at his face. His mouth gaped open, and his eyes were as big as saucers. He'd dropped his wand in utter shock. "I-Impossible!" he managed to force out, kneeling and groping for his wand. Unfortunately for him, I'd already recovered, and darted in to snatch it before he could find it, then returning to myplace by the dog and telling her to lie down.

"Looking for this?" I taunted, waving the piece of wood. He stared.

"How?"

"Oh, this?" I said, glancing at the wand and deliberately misunderstanding him. "It was quite easy, seeing as you somehow dropped it."

"Not that," he growled, coming out of his stupor. "You know what I meant."

"Oh? But I though you said, and I quote, that I was a 'stupid, foolish boy' with little imagination, so elaborate." I was also stalling for time, wracking my brains for a legitimate explanation.

"Why are you resistant to one of the most potent curses known to wizardkind?"

"Oh. That's what you meant. Well, even if I did know, I wouldn't tell the likes of you. Now get out of here and leave me alone!" I shouted, snapping his wand in half.

It didn't faze him in the slightest. "Actually, I am unable to leave, due to the fact that you've broken the conduit to my magic," he commented, gesturing at the two halves lying on the floor.

I felt like cursing.

About two and a halfweeks later (the dog had been returned home, by this time),I was settling in to read a book, when the Visitor-Who-Wouldn't-Leave decided too make his presence known by clearing his throat. I didn't even blink; he'd been doing that ever since the night he'd arrived. I focused on the print in front of me, eager to find out how the current threat to Xanth's welfare was to be averted. 1

"Interesting choice of reading there. But I suppose I should expect nothing less from a Muggle like yourself."

I pointedly ignored him, staring intently at the words on the page.

"I know you can hear me. Why deny it?"

And before I could stop myself, I shot a glare at him.

"Ah, a response. For a minute there I was beginning to wonder if you were deaf."

I gritted my teeth. "You know very well I'm not hard of hearing, in any way, shape, or form. Now shut up and let me read."

I returned my attention to the book, but before I could learn about the demon's answer to the evil machine's question, my 'guest' started cackling.

If only looks could kill. "Just what do you find so amusing?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just that it's so easy to get a rise out of you."

I sighed, and muttered the doctor's phrase from the animated movie Atlantis, "Lord, give me strength."

"Somehow, I don't think he's listening. That is, if he even exists."

I snapped. Before I even thought about what I was doing, I leapt at him, and my fist connected with his nose with a satisfying CRACK! My other hand came to an abrupt halt in his stomach, and he folded, winded. But before I could get in a good kick, he vanished.

Well, I suppose two good punches was enough. It appeared he'd lied about the wand, but that was to be expected, considering his 'identity.' And finally, after two weeks of nagging, I could have some peace and quiet in which to read. But I'd barely read a page when—"Could you help me pick blueberries, son?" 2

Whew! Longest chapter yet! I finally got it typed! But now my feet are cold, and my dad is nagging at me to go to bed. looks at clock Holy cow! It's nearly midnight! No wonder he's irritated! Well, I am tired, and my feet are cold, so after these last author's notes plus the footnotes, I'm going to hit the hay. Oh, before I forget, please review! Even if it's to say you hate it. If that happens to be the case, please let me know why, so I can keep from making the same mistakes in the future. So long!

1 Yes, I am a big fan of the author Piers Anthony, especially his Magic of Xanth series. I highly recommend them! Anyone that would like a nearly complete list (23 of the 28 books), in chronological order, or even just the first one, PM me and I'll send it to you.

2That at the very last would be my mother, but actually saying that in my story would be providing too much detail, thereby cutting down on the humor it invokes.