As I sat down in a large, comfortable, green armchair in one of Malfoy Manor's numerous drawing rooms, a tumbler of Firewhiskey in my hand, I perused the two Inner Circle members who sat in front of me, on a matching green sofa. I had debated what to tell them of my plans and had finally settled on telling them mostly everything; it would be easier to achieve them this way and I knew they were both loyal. One by choice, the other not so much.

"I realise, after having what you could call an epiphany yesterday, that I had traveled from the path I had initially walked when I began my journey, fighting for the rights of dark wizards and witches. I had become consumed with my obsession with Harry Potter, paranoid with his supposed power, I became effectively insane. I broke the trust that you gave me when you swore your loyalty to me and for that I apologise. I promise you know that things will be different now. I shall listen to your counsel; you needn't fear my wrath." I stated.

"My Lord," Lucius started, clearly nervous. "While I wouldn't dare presume to question you, why have you had this change of heart?"

"I realised Lucius, that this was not how I should treat those who have put there faith in me, it was wrong."

He nodded, seemingly in shock, he took a large sip of his drink.

"I have decided that I am to take an active role in the Magical community, I'll be buying up companies and then using my influence I'll be able to influence things the way I see fit.

"It is an excellent plan, my Lord." Lucius complimented. "It would give the Dark a foothold before the next true battle."

"My plan exactly." I nodded.

"I have also offered the Goblins an alliance." I began, "having them onside will give us another advantage, they control the economy after all. I promised them equality, and this is what we shall be offering all creatures from now on, or those with near human intelligence at least, this seems fair to me and will mean we can get them onside. Though I will offer no other creature an alliance for now, I want the number of people who know I am not dead to be limited for now." They were too in shock to really reply, I decided against giving them my plan for muggleborns.

"We'll gentlemen. I must be going. No doubt I will be in touch soon." I then stood and strode out of the drawing room.

I was waiting inside the house of one Archie Raycraft. He was a worker in the Records Office at the Ministry, I knew of him thanks to Lucius' reports during the war, he was a Halfblood, but had been open to some of the dark's ideas during the war, at least that was what Lucius had told me.

Either way, I thought as I stood in his living room, which was modestly decorated with ghastly floral wallpaper adorning the walls, his political leanings were not important. I would not risk him spilling knowledge of my return; thus I was in a glamour, with handsome sharp features, dirty blond hair and dark blue eyes. I was tall, but not excessively so, perhaps just over six foot and was dressed formally in a navy suit of the finest quality. This would be the appearance of Oliver Bovin: my new identity.

Just as I was making my way over to the mantelpiece, the door opened and Mr Raycraft made his way into his humble abode. The minute he saw me he reached into his pocket, I assume for his wand.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" He yelled, his wand now pointed directly at me.

"I'm afraid Mr Raycraft, that I am not in the mood for a long conversation." I said and whipped out my wand and before he could fire a spell I muttered "imperio" and his eyes glossed over.

"You shall go to work tomorrow and forge some documents for me. The birth certificate, O.W. N.E.W.T.s of one Oliver Bovin, and the mother, father and three generations before them, make them a small family, a few siblings at a time. You come up with the names, but make them normal enough. We all were homeschooled but did well in our exams, mostly Es but a few Os and As. Originally they were Irish immigrants. Meet me tomorrow at eight PM in the Leaky Cauldron, room 213 and show me a copy of the documents. You shall not tell anyone about this meeting, or what I have told you." I orated, then apparated away to the Leaky Cauldron, I was exhausted.

Mr. Raycraft had appeared at the door to my room at precisely 20:00 the next day and showed me copies of the documents, they were to my satisfaction. I had apparently received Es in everything for my O.W.L.s apart from one A (Herbology) and two Os (Defense against the Dark Arts and Ancient Runes). For my N.E.W.T.s I achieved the same scores, though I didn't take Herbology. With that I shut the door and lifted the spell. Now I was prepared.

The very next day I awoke to an owl pecking the window, when I opened the letter it was carrying, I found one simple message written in red ink, 'No.' I knew immediately who it was from. I scrunched up the message and threw it in the air. Incinerating it with an incendio charm as it dropped back down to the ground. Were they scared of losing? Is that why they refused my offer? Or did they hate humans that much? I didn't understand. I was offering them freedom and yet they turned their noses up at it. Well screw them. Maybe I should make my own bank? An idea for the future.

After I had cooled of a little, I walked out of my room and made my way out into Diagon Alley. I wandered down the street until I found it: the Daily Prophet's Headquarters. I entered the building to see the hustle and bustle of a newspaper building. Paper memos were flying around the room, and people were running here, there, and everywhere. I didn't let it deter me however and I walked up to what appeared to be the reception desk. "Hello there sir, how may I help you? Do you have a story to sell? An Ad to place?" The receptionist enquired, at a speed that made my head spin. She was wearing lime green robes, and on her head sat a large, pointed witch's hat.

"No, thank you madam, I am here to buy shares in this esteemed newspaper." I replied, with a silky-smooth tone. After all, if you can control the populace's thoughts, you have won half the battle.

The receptionist briefly looked shocked before looking down at the desk, presumably reading something before looking up. "Ok sir, there are currently three shareholders in the Daily Prophet, the largest is our editor, Barnabus Cuffe, who owns a 70% share. A Mr. Duncan Leveret owns a 13% share, and the Ministry of Magic own a 17% share."

"Is Mr. Cuffe in today?" I asked.

"Yes sir, let me take you to him." With that she stood up and walked towards the stairs. I followed her as we ascended to the second and then third storey. Eventually we came across a plain door with a golden panel on it; on which was inscribed 'Barnabus Cuffe, Editor-in-Chief and CEO' She knocked on the door and then when she was called in told me to wait outside as she entered. A moment later she reappeared and beckoned me in, before nodding to Cuffe and leaving once again. The walls in his office were covered with stuffed bookshelves, filled with what looked to be old editions of the Prophet on his desk was a huge pile of papers.

Cuffe had stood while I was looking at his office and when I focused back on him he was smiling. "Good sir, I'm afraid the receptionist didn't inform me of your name."

"Oliver Bovin, at your service, Mr. Cuffe." I replied to his silent question.

"Well, Mr. Bovin, I here you are here to buy some of my shares in the Prophet?"

"That is not entirely true, I do not want to buy some of your shares, I want to buy all of your shares."

He laughed. "Well, I'm afraid you're barking up the wrong tree, as the muggles say. This newspaper is my life! No money could make me part with all of my shares."

"1,000,000 Galleons." I declared. He looked surprised for a moment before something passed through he eyes, and he adopted a steely expression. "And how do I know you even possess these funds? I have never even heard of you, surely if you had this money to spare I would know that you existed?"

"What do you want from me, my life story? Look, for the shares to be sold the funds need to be exchanged through the goblins, they will not be cheated, we both know that."

"2,000,000." He responded.

"We both know the paper isn't worth that much. With the money I'm offering you can live comfortably for the rest of your life, without worry."

"I don't want to live comfortably; I want to work!" Was his comeback.

"500,000 and I will make you deputy-editor-in-chief." I offered, after a moment's thought.

"I said I wanted to keep working not be swindled!" He blustered, his face going a strange shade.

I chuckled, "of course, of course." I thought some more. "900,000 and you stay editor-in-chief, and the job will remain yours for life."

He considered it for a moment. "Deal."