Hello everyone, here's the second chapter for book 2. A little bit later than expected but I was just sorting out some stuff with the chapter summary, a few continuity errors and such. I was thinking of starting to recommend some fics that I enjoyed at the end of chapters just as way to bring attention to works that I liked, let me know what ya'll think. Hope you enjoy :)

Chapter Two: The Next Morning

July 8th

9:57am

Ministry of Magic

Harry

The ministry of magic was what most would describe as organised chaos. Multifaceted departments cobbled together in a mess of protocol and paperwork. Although the ministry would never be charged with being too organised, today was a day of particular pandemonium. The atrium, now repaired, was packed to the brim with wizards and witches of every variety to attend a uniquely special press conference.

In the wake of the attack on Godric's Hollow, Lord Damien Greengrass has called a press conference to "reveal the new direction of House Greengrass." Many top-ranking officials in the ministry elected to attend the conference in anticipation of the Greengrass' announcement, worried about what such a wealthy family would be doing that required a press conference in the heart of magical Britain.

As the time ticked over to ten o'clock the Greengrass family arrived and took their seats at the long table dedicated to the family. Once they had settled in, Damien stood up and addressed the people gathered before him.

"Good morning, everyone, before we get started, I would like to take a moment to recognise the lives lost and forever changed by last night's events." A moment of silence followed where many bowed their heads in respect for the victims of the attack on Godric's Hollow. With the minute silence concluded Damien spoke up again, "I know many of you are wondering what this press conference is for and I understand your frustration. As you are all aware, the Dark Lord has returned. As such, we, as individuals and a society, are faced with a difficult choice. Today I am making my family's choice public as a show of faith and a sign of strength."

The crowd of reporters and ministry workers listened with bated breath as Damien sat back down and shared a nod with his wife. Beside the table a podium materialised and the space behind it seemed to split to reveal the nation's youngest celebrity, Harry Potter. At once many of the reporters and journalists burst from their seats in the crowd and shouted several questions and statements towards the adolescent who watched impassively.

'Blimey, they act like I'm the second coming of Merlin. That would be nice actually, dead useful I imagine.' Harry thought. Deciding that enough was enough Harry tried to find his back up in the mess of people which wasn't as difficult as it sounded considering she was one of the only people not going crazy to catch a glimpse of him. When they locked eyes, Harry gave her a nod and Tonks fired off a small firework above the crowd which quieted them down enough to begin his own dialogue.

"Hello to you all, I imagine my presence here today is a surprise to some and overdue to others however I must ask that you remain in your seats until the time for questions. Thank you."

Looking down at his little list of things to talk about, Harry calmed his nerves 'This is a lot more nerve racking than six people in a room. Buck up Potter, you've faced Voldemort, reporters should be easier.' he thought.

"Alright let's deal with formalities first," he muttered to himself then he addressed the crowd. "As some of you may have guessed, myself and the Greengrass family have formed a coalition of sorts to help resist the efforts of the active terrorist known as Voldemort (cue collective crowd gasp). Just recently they helped me thwart the infiltration of the ministry and were in Godric's Hollow last night helping save the lives of fellow men and women at great personal risk.

It is my belief that the fear this society harbours for Voldemort destabilises our ability to fight him. He doesn't need to imperius our minds if our hearts are already gripped by fear. Why battle the nation when we have already lost the battle within ourselves?

That's what today is about, it's about among a stand here, in the open. Showing him that there are those who will fight and those who will loudly and proudly declare it.

If there are any questions, I ask that you raise your hand and wait to be selected so that we can do this in an orderly manner. Thank you for your time."

With his speech done, Harry sat down in the middle of Damien and Daphne. Daphne whispered a "good job" to which Harry smiled appreciatively. Looking back at the reporters he could see several eager hands being waved about in the air, some old men and others young women, all of them with the same hungry look in their eyes. Harry decided he was going to pick one at random, "you there, on the left, blue scarf."

A middle-aged man with a scruffy beard stood up and spoke, "Eduardus Lima, Daily Prophet. Many say that because you killed him once as a child that you're, shall we say, destined to do it again. Any comment?"

Expecting such a question, Harry loaded up his practiced answer for the reporter, "as much as I would like to believe in a higher power like destiny Mr Lima, I much prefer to believe in the good work of witches and wizards in the here and now."

"Thank you, Mr Potter."

With a nod the man sat back down, scribbling away at his notes. Harry picked a younger man this time, tall with combed black hair. "Augustus Boot, Sickle Central. Lord Greengrass, how do you expect this bold decision will impact your portfolio?"

Damien smiled and replied, "after the first war I learnt not to put all of my eggs in the one basket. Especially the wrong one. Businesses are built and propelled on 'bold decisions' as you put it. Therefore, I imagine my businesses will continue to run smoothly moving forward." Mr Boot sat down promptly and mimicked the reporter before by scribbling something on a notepad

"You sir, in the front." Harry said, pointing to a heavily set man in his mid-fifties.

"Peter Blotting, The Daily Prophet. Some of the men and women who infiltrated the ministry were standing members of society. Do you feel any remorse for the men or women you had a hand in cutting down?" The reporters around him were the first to show their outrage, but, being true to their nature, still keenly listened for Harry's answer.

'Ding ding Pureblood apologist number one, we've been over this though. Sorry Mr Blotting, no headline for you today.' Harry thought before answering.

"Of course, I feel remorse Mr Blotting," he lied. "I am remorseful for the people they once were, to be willing to attack children in this very building however, well that is not what I would consider upstanding. Maybe they were good people once, but I had to choose between people I considered family and the people attacking them. I'm sure we would all do the same for our families. Does that satisfy your question Mr Blotting?"

With so many people staring at him disapprovingly, Blotting' face was red, and his brow was sweating. He managed out a weak "yes ah… yes thank you," before sitting back in his seat.

"Harryyy" a woman from the crowd drawled. "Surely, you've saved me a few words."

Finding the woman in the front row, Harry found himself unsurprised that it was Rita Skeeter who overstepped the boundaries. Tonks walked up to her and said, "sorry ma'am you heard the rules, you were to wait your turn. I'm going to have to ask you to come with me."

However, before Skeeter could be escorted out, Harry spoke up. "It's fine, auror. Say your piece Miss Skeeter, I'll always have time for my first interviewer." Tonks' expression turned confused, but she let it go and backed off. Rita looked like Christmas had come early and her quick notes quill came to life, somehow exhibiting the same excitement as its master.

"Oh Harry, you're such a flatterer," she said. "But my question is for the heir of Greengrass, and it has two parts." Daphne leant forward in preparation for the question. "Last month saw you in a heated battle with notorious killers, your name was plastered on papers across the country and many young witches are looking to you as a role model. What do you have to say to them?"

Daphne's eyebrows furrowed, not expecting such an innocent question from such a renowned pain in the arse. "I would say, don't forget what you're capable of. Much of the reason why I am alive to answer this question is because I worked hard to be good at what I do. The reminder I give myself often is that you've just got to keep moving forward, people will tell you that your goals are impossible, but you can't get hung up on negativity."

"Beautiful and the second part, there's a rumour that to cement the alliance between Mr Potter and your family that there is a marriage contract between the two of you. Care to comment?"

Harry did all he could not to be embarrassed but Daphne surprisingly laughed it off, "no not that I'm aware of. I think that tradition being left in the past was one of society's better decisions."

"Of course, of course. Thank you Miss Greengrass and you Mr Potter." With that Rita turned and left, having gathered what she needed.

With Rita's exit, Harry decided that his first press conference was over. He deliberately ignored all the waving and clamouring reporters and gave a predetermined signal to Damien, the group stood and Harry thanked them all for attending before taking a portkey to the chateau to recharge after a stressful twenty four hours.

July 8th

4:37pm

Malfoy Manor

Voldemort

Lord Voldemort sat in his high-backed chair that looked more akin to a throne in the decorated entrance hall of Malfoy Manor. Before him knelt the leader of the Giant's Fist mercenary corps, Lukas Walters, a man some would describe as bear-like, Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy. Many of his most skilful Death Eaters had been taken from him by the ministry, left with dwindled resources he addressed his remaining followers.

"My friends, last night's raid was a success. Captain, your company has proven themselves quite worthy of my attention," Voldemort said in a rare compliment.

The large man nodded his appreciation and bowed. Lukas Walters was not a man of many words however his actions proved effective enough to pull his men in line and pull his enemies apart.

"However, our quest for a righteous world is yet to be concluded. Powerful men and women are in place hindering the inevitable ascension of our kind, men and women who must be turned or removed," Voldemort dramatically declared. Stepping down from his throne and almost gliding towards the prone Malfoy Heir, he motioned the blonde up and leaned into whisper in the young man's ear. "You are going to restore your family to high standing by killing the old fool Albus Dumbledore in his very own castle. You will not be marked as I have no use for an assassin that could be caught so easily. If you should fail, then your mother's tortured screams will echo these halls for millennia to come, understand?"

Draco, who was trying very hard not to piss himself, nodded his head and scurried back a few steps. Voldemort smiled at his subordinate's reaction, pleased that the gravity of the situation had sunk in. 'The Malfoy's have overexaggerated their worth for far too long. He either fails me and I can make an example of his family, or he kills Albus Dumbledore, and I have one less obstacle in my way' he thought, satisfied.

"Severus," he said suddenly. "How has Dumbledore responded to recent events?"

Snape, who was looking impassively at Draco, turned his gaze to the Dark Lord. In a voice devoid of emotion he responded, "the headmaster has made no significant changes in light of our attack. He has his order on 'high alert,' as always." he said, finishing with a sneer.

"Good, as expected the Order will be no more than a nuisance whilst Dumbledore is in charge." Voldemort said, amused. He continued by addressing Lukas and saying, "Walters, I have a mission for your men in Serbia. A follower of mine has decided to slap the hand that feeds him and needs to be taught a lesson on… keeping his head… in stressful situations."

Without saying a word, the captain nodded and went to prep the men he had in mind. Watching the man leave, Snape and Malfoy waited for their Lord's permission to return to their lives. With a wave of his hand, Voldemort dismissed the other two and returned to his throne. The problem of Harry Potter once again plagued his mind as it had begun to take off faster than the Dark Lord could have guessed. The boy had become tempered, far more than he could take credit for, and forged himself into a weapon that could seriously damage his campaign. With the prophecy destroyed, Voldemort could no longer look to the art of Divination to secure his victory which both angered and relieved him.

'There is still no threat to me, soldiers can be killed, and cities toppled but not I, not my reign. Prophecy does not trump my power and knowledge of the dark arts' Voldemort reasoned with himself, secure in his immortality. Despite his immortality however, Tom Riddle was not a patient man, and sought to swiftly deal with his problems. 'But to allow my men to be slaughtered and captured is no way to conduct an uprising. Potter and that Greengrass bitch need to be stopped if only to make my victory sweeter. As much as it pains me to admit, he is marvellously lucky. Killing him is becoming more of a chore than expected, perhaps I must look to more… mystical approaches.'

With that in mind, Voldemort rose and left to seek out the Malfoy library, an old tale of death resurfacing in his mind.