More a snippet, than a one shot. This is sometime in the future of the Key to Summer/ Fall of Innocence timeline. I'll just put Trelawney's crystal ball back when I'm done...

And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming...

"Dear listeners, that was Celestina Warbeck, with "A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love", Another Howling hit for the charts. Now, we have some real news for you! Tomorrow night, tune in for a world first broadcast event! Live from our offices in Diagon, we'll be host to the very Boy-Who-Lived! That's right folks, he's back! In an unprecedented act after his sorrowful departure from our shores, the darling of the Tri-Wizard, the Chosen One returns! Our once and future hero has agreed to a live interview exclusive! Tune in tomorrow..."

"Thank you all for tuning in to the WWN! Tonight, as you may have heard, we have a special treat of you. That's right everyone, as you likely saw in yesterday's Prophet and heard from our own broadcasts, we'll be hosting the first interview – live! – with the very Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter!

"As most of you listeners likely remember, there was quite the upset over the young man, after his fifth year at Hogwarts under the pretender, Dumbledore. Sadly, the Minister at the time could not convince the young hero from going abroad, leading to his eventual sacking, letting our beloved Fudge come back to the fore! But now, with war on the doorstep and the shadow of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, growing ever longer, let me, Glenda Chittok on behalf of the WWN be the first to welcome you back, Mr. Harry Potter!"

The wireless is silent for maybe ten seconds, before another voice, clear and rather flat responds, "It's a pleasure to be here."

"Yes, thank you very much for this chance to speak with you first-hand about your return to England's regal shores." Pausing for effect, Glenda continues, "What our listeners would-"

The previously flat voice cut her off, it's emotionless drawl easily breaking the breathy announcer's stride. "Excuse me, but I'd very much like you to describe the agreement we made, prior to the interview."

"Oh, ah." Another pause, as the presenter seemed to shift a moment. "Of course, that was one of the questions I myself had about this interview. Barnabas, are you listening? Can you see us alright?"

Another voice now joined the program, "Yes Glenda, I'm here."

"Please introduce yourself for our listeners," Harry replied, cutting Glenda off again.

The man cleared his throat, unused apparently to this brand of attention, "Ah, right. My name is Barnabas Cuffe, lead chief for The Daily Prophet."

Another pause, while Harry chuckled slightly. "And, Barnabas, could you describe your role for tonight's presentation?"

"Oh of course," the man replied, sounding rattled. "Tonight, I'll be taking down your interview for the paper, and observing the event from the spectator's booth."

"Glenda, obviously Barnabas can hear us, but can your listeners?" Slight amusement tinged Harry's words, once the Prophet's editor seemed content with his response.

"Of course, that was in the agreement," sounding more than a little testy, Glenda apparently reacquainted herself with her poise, as she continued. "As you, dear listener have heard, we have spared no expense with preparations-"

"Please, Glenda," Harry laughed, derision dripping from his words. "I can easily see that the booth has been around longer than me." Still chuckling, Harry went on, "but I digress. Please, I only really have two more things to say before you can continue the interview as intended."

Apparently as unused to being treated this way as Barnabas was to public speaking, Glenda's tone had gone frosty. "And what, Mr. Potter are they?"

"Imperio. Legilimens."

"Mr. Potter what are you doing!" Cuffe roared, as a chair clattered in the background.

"... terribly interesting. Colloportus. Now, Mr. Cuffe, please. Have a seat." There were more angry words shouted, and what sounded like a number of impacts, Harry sighed, and the sound of a chair being scooted across the floor could be heard. "Forgive me dear listeners, it seems our local audience is in quite an uproar. One moment if you please."

More sounds of spells, impacts and finally a strangled scream that cut off quite quickly were heard. Shortly, Harry could be heard chuckling again, as he apparently took a seat. "Now, Mr. Cuffe, could you explain what you just saw? Please, do keep a running commentary. I value your observations."

Ragged breathing came from the other party, as he whimpered slightly. "Y-you cast one of the Unforgivables at Glenda, then another spell I'm not familiar with. Then you bloody cursed my leg and dragged me back to this chair, you madman!" Voice risen to a scream, it still didn't drown our the clicking of Harry's tongue in reproach.

"Now now. You journalists are so reactionary. See? No wand. After all it was snapped, over that international farce your Ministry called in after reinstating Fudge. How did that work out by the way? Wasn't quite sure someone who'd been sacked so visibly could be back in office. Well, before my little learning excursion overseas was turned into an official banishment. No, that was a HK USP in point forty-five inch ACP."

"How'd you cast those spells then!?"

"Tsk. Chosen One Union secret," with a dramatic pause, Harry laughed good-naturedly. "What? Such a glare. Do you want me tossed out of the Union?"

"You're mad!"

"Quite right," Harry's voice had gone quiet, and was hissed coldly at the microphone. "I am quite angry, in fact. Now, back to our program, since we're all nicely acquainted, and settled." Again, the sound of someone rising, and in the background the exiled wizard was heard muttering, "three drops-a do-you!"

"What are you doing? What are you poisoning Glenda with?"

"Ah," pausing, you could hear the sound of metal grating quietly. "I'm sure Glenda won't mind me borrowing her position a moment, do you my dear?"

"Yes, I do mind." Dead and emotionless, the presenter's voice was faint but there, to which Harry laughed happily.

"Oh my! Fast acting indeed. Lets just get you settled back by your microphone, there." Humming quietly, Harry's tune grew faint then loud again, as he sat. "Now! Back on to task. Mr. Cuffe, what you saw me administering was Veritaserum. Three drops."

"That is a Ministry controlled substance!"

"As your paper is a Ministry controlled publication, and this is a Ministry controlled wireless network. Your point?"

Livid, Barnabas screamed at the receiver in front of him, "You can't go around poisoning people!"

There was a slight pause, and then a hearty guffaw from Harry, "Really? Severus, I do think this man may be besmirching your good reputation. Do send an owl, if you'd like me to handle this in your stead," still chuckling darkly, Harry seemed to regain his focus with a sigh. "Back to task. I'll address your accusation of poisoning in a moment, though

"Now, Glenda. Have you or Barnabas come to any harm tonight?"

Glenda's usually dulcet tones were muted, as he voice took on a mechanical quality, "Yes. Barnabas was injured by your Muggle weapon in the leg."

"Quite right! How observant of you. Now, lets continue. Did you receive orders to place illegal transportation wards on this building after I arrived?"

"How dare you accuse-"

A massive crack was heard, and another scream, from Cuffe. "Please don't mistake your place here, Barnabas. I'm sure you're quite used to having your unfettered say in the Prophet, but here is quite another story. Another outburst like that and I'll stop with injuries, and begin taking limbs."

The formerly nervous but outspoken editor whimpered, something unintelligible.

"What was that?"

"You'd not dare," weak voiced, Cuffe groaned again, and seemed to have brushed the microphone with his body, shifting. Crackling feedback drowned out the studio for a moment.

"- dare? Oh, well. I'm already a banishes criminal, still. I have just cast an Unforgivable, over public feed of the WWN, I'll also remind you. I used a Ministry controlled substance without sanction or license, and assaulted you quite grievously. And," laughing here, Harry did something that made a strange metallic click. "It seems I have quite a lot of grievous harm left. So, shall we dispense with the 'dare' and 'won't' and get back to observing, and documenting. Or shall I simply transfigure you into a Quik-Quote and save myself the annoyance? I'm sure I can allow you to continue to bleed, so no need for ink at least."

"Why?"

"Why you? Why this?" One had the sense of a hand being waved. "Quite simple really. I need to say something, and you need to listen. All of you."

"You could have just let us interview-"

Laughing raucously, Harry was heard slapping the table hard a few times. "Oh, and rely on your esteemed reputation for truth and honesty in reporting? You are quite the comedian!

"Now, Glenda, my apologies. The wards? Are they in place?"

"Yes."

"Thank you," Harry purred, sighing contently after. "Who ordered those be put in place?"

"The notice was from the Ministry."

"Hmm, that wasn't quite the answer I was looking for. Quite cunning though, you're doing admirably fighting the Serum. Sadly the Imperious and Legilimency are telling me more."

"Nnngh"

Harry laughed again. "Quite hard to break one of those binding vows, isn't it? I'm not too worried, you were squandering your talents anyway." A pause, as what sounded like cracked knuckles passed through the wireless. "Answer me, under who's orders directly are functioning?"

A scream ripped through the studio, echoing over the wireless as in the background Barnabas could be heard ranting at the scene before him.

"My that was exciting! Barnabas, do describe to our listeners what just happened, I'm sure they'd love to know."

"Monster! You forced her to break a vow! She's lost her magic over this!"

With a dismissive noise, Harry replied, "Not like she was using it. Now, that established, Glenda? Are you still with us?"

Faintly, a voice answered him, "yes."

"Brilliant. Now, who are your sponsors?"

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, functioning through his Ministry contacts."

Gasping for effect, Harry paused, "Well dear listeners, I hope you're still with us. That was quite a shock! Not unexpected though.

"Now, Glenda, how would you know this?"

"I am an unmarked Death Eater."

Cuffe groaned, but went silent shortly, at Harry's stern call for quiet.

"Glenda, that's quite the... damning statement. How long have you been using the WWN for Tom's propaganda campaign?"

"Who is Tom?"

"Apologies, Tom Riddle. It's your incompetent half-blood master's birth name. Answer please."

"Five years."

"My my, you've been rather prodigious! That's even before he managed to get a new body, thanks to your's truly." The sound of clapping was heard in the background, from Harry. "Hmm, it seems the Aurors are on their way. The wards you put up and I... subverted, are falling. Such a shame to cut such a productive interview short."

A few moments, and the sound of some motion later, Harry reseated himself. "What are those? What did you do?" Barnabas' voice was weak and pained. It was obvious he was still in quite a lot of pain, from the sound of his ragged breath.

"Little innovation from the Americas. Wardstones. Think of them as portable, disposable wards. Available at all Gringott's locations!" Ending his explanation with a theatrical flair, Harry laughed again. "Sorry, couldn't help myself. Now, since we have so little time left, how about we ask you a question or two, Barnabas? What was it you thought I'd be talking about when I arrived?"

"I don't understand."

"Oh come now," laughing, something Harry did caused another metallic click.

"No please! Don't use that on me again! We... we thought you'd be thrilled to be asked back, publicly. So the Ministry had us contact you."

"Hmm, makes sense I suppose. I'd not trust the Ministry to be honest about which hand they were waving with. But," pausing, Harry was heard to laugh quietly. "What made you think I'd believe your article?"

Silence was Harry's only response, for long moments. Quietly then, Cuffe made to answer, "We're a respectable-"

"Oh please!" Tone again gone harsh, Harry confronted the cornered editor. "You lie at every point, just for sales. Or for whoever is padding your pockets that day. Don't make me do what I have to poor Glenda here, to you Barnabas. You'd not last a week as a squib."

"Oh Merlin," shuddering a breath, Barnabas started rambling. "Compulsion charms, the presses we used were supplied by the Ministry."

"Well that's a surprise, right folks? Magical newspapers – no one would think to check them for such a thing. But still, over a century of publication, you'd think somehow, someone would have caught on. Why not?'

Voice little more than a whisper now, Cuffe was slow to reply, "Trust. The charm was complemented by the presses. The papers were so heavily magical, with protean and replication charms, wizarding photos and the like that it was easy to weave in one more charm. And well, it's not like we make people believe everything they read. It's a mild charm, only a suggestion really. People trust the written word already. The charm could only be overcome by someone who mistrusted the printing itself, totally."

"Or by people resilient to mental magics. Funny, how the Ministry stripped Hogwarts of such things nearly the same time your publication became a staple of magical homes."

Loud sounds could be heard now, as it seemed like something frantic was occurring in the background.

"Sounds like the cavalry has arrived!" Harry announced with a flair. "Now, since we're nearly done here, let me address the idiocy that most of wizarding England has subscribed to.

"Pun intended.

"I will not solve your problems for you. Voldemort is your issue. I was willing to fight, help and do what I could for myself and by friends – the best you people could have hoped for – but I was exiled and made a pariah for doing just what you fools wanted me to do.

"Then Albus, poor, misguided Albus, tried to reason with you. He gave you the Prophecy hoping you'd all show some sense, and suddenly I was your Hero again. Chosen One? Hah!" Derision poured off Harry's words, and he could barely contain his anger, not wanting the studio broken in the backlash of his rage... yet.

"What did you do? Allowed the Minister to send the one man that Tom couldn't overcome to Azkaban! Nevermind his mistakes, the man didn't deserve that. Pity. Albus was too old for the Rock. I had words for him, still. Oh well," sighing regretfully, Harry seemed to be taking a moment to organize his thoughts. "Tom, if you're listening I have a message for you.

"The continent is mine. You can have England."

"What?!" Barnabas' voice rang out over the network. "You're leaving us to him?"

There was a pause, and then Harry replied, "Yes. I think that's about right. Decent, intelligent and light-minded folk should likely abandon the Ministry and it's corruption and flee, if they haven't done so already."

"You expect us to abandon our homes, our lives?"

Harry laughed at this, but there was no mirth to it. "You already abandoned your lives to the Ministry. Trusting those fools with your lives was the same as suicide. As for your homes, they've been compromised since Fudge returned, and passed his Communication Surveillance Act.

"I was young, but I did my best. I placed competent people into the seats my families by birth and adoption granted me. But what happened when I tried to change things for the better? You damned pure-bloods revolted! You just couldn't see the status quo being shaken up! All those arguments about too much power in one place? Look at your fucking government! I tried to work with you people, I really did. Then you either tried to or managed to assassinate all my allies, reinstated a mouthpiece for that half-blood pretender as Minister, then backed that farce that made me a criminal!

"And now you want me to come back, and help you? Save your pathetic, worthless hides from something you did yourselves?"

"But... You're the Chosen-"

"Shut. Up." Harry's voice had gone brittle and high, the intensity of it causing the microphone to crackle. "You people had your chance. You want a savior? Fine. Show me you can start to fix your own problems, and I'll maybe mobilize the army I've been building for the last year."

Cuffe gasped at this, "Army? Where did you get an army?"

"You idiots really should pay attention to history," Harry snapped. "These are my demands. If they aren't met, then the Island can bloody well burn for all I care. I've taken everything of importance from this place, I'll turn my back on you and forget you.

"If you want me to save you, start saving yourselves."

"Wh-what do you mean?" Barnabas' voice had gone faint, and in the background you could hear the barrage of spells, as the Aurors tried desperately to take down Harry's protections and wards.

"You have one week. I want Minister Fudge publicly hanged." A gasp answered Harry's demand, but he wasn't finished, "the Wizengamot will be dissolved. I will have my representative contact the English Prime Minister and by proxy, the Queen. She will work with the actual, real government of England to rebuild the Ministry in such a way that it's not a farce. We're still human beings, and are subject to the laws of majority, if not nature in some cases."

"You're insane!"

Ignoring Cuffe's recrimination, Harry went on, "Don't pretend that the Ministry is doing anything worthwhile now. Floo networks are monitored, mail is being watched, your children are pressed into service to a hypocritical madman, while your very police and legislature are being run by the terrorists that are killing you."

"You can't be serious. The country will fall into chaos without the Ministry!"

"There is no Ministry now, fool! It. Is. Just. A. Ruse!" Harry slammed his hand down on the table with each word, as the sound of breaking glass pealed over the wireless.

Over the noise, Harry continued, "Start with Fudge. When I see you people are serious about being worth saving, I'll start giving a damn about doing it."

"Freeze, Potter! You're under arrest! Put your weapons-"

Another massive crack, as Cuffe screamed, and the noise of a falling body was heard. "Sorry, you were saying?"

"Murderer! The only person who'll be hanging this week is you!"

Laughing, the sound of spells crackling over wards was loud, but Harry easily drowned them out. "I can't say enough about these wards, folks. But I digress, Silence!" Immediately, half the noise in the background went quiet, as Harry breathed a sigh. "Couldn't hear myself think... Rebecca!"

A muffled whisper, like a flame going out could be heard over noise, still loud from Cuffe's booth on the other side of the silencing charm. A polite, quiet female voice answered him, "Yes, Lord?"

"It's time to return to the Isle."

"Right away, Lord."

The noise over the microphone doubled, as with the absence of Harry the wards fell dramatically allowing the Aurors access to both sides of the studio. "Where did they go? The Minister demanded we bring him back or we may as well not return!"

"That bitch was supposed to have the wards up! How did he Apparate?"

"Shut up, fool! The transmitter is still on!"