***Guys I would SO appreciate your votes and comments! I hope you loved chapter one. :) Also, can I just say that the new, and much more creepy/evil/sexy Tom Riddle is super swoon-worthy ... or is that just me?***

Rain pounded the streets of London's East End. The day, just like the seven before it, had begun shrouded by an overcast sky, its dark gray clouds threatening to spill their contents all morning until finally, the rain had come.

A man with dark hair walked down the sidewalk, the hood of his cloak turned up, shielding the man's face from the elements. Turning down an adjacent ally, the man stopped as he reached its back wall. The man spoke in a series of hisses, a door appearing before him. Reaching out a hand, he twisted the knob and opened the door.

Voldemort stepped inside, the door which had been there seconds before, disappearing as he shut it behind him. Before him, sat a group of men, watching him expectantly, though none dared look him directly in the eye. Removing his hood, Voldemort glared back at the men seated at the table, willing them to meet his gaze.

"Well?" He spoke, his voice cold and detached. One man from among the group stood to his feet, his eyes trained on the hem of Voldemort's cloak.

"He's waiting for you in the other room," the man spoke stealing a glance into his master's eyes. "My Lord," he added, averting his eyes as quickly as he had brought them up. Voldemort smiled, taking a step towards the man.

"Thank you Lestrange," Voldemort said, placing a pale hand on the man's shoulder. Lestrange gave a stark nod, but kept his eyes trained on the floor. Voldemort stepped into the next room, his eyes darting to a young man on the floor who, by the looks of things, had taken a substantial beating. "Hello Neil," Voldemort spoke casually. The man looked up at him through a swollen eye, realization flooding his bloodied features.

"Tom Riddle," Neil said breathlessly.

"I no longer answer to that name," Voldemort spoke, his tone icier now, a flicker of red glinting briefly in his eyes.

"I see you're no longer a lot of things," Neil shot back in defiance. "I assume you're the one behind all of this then? You're the one people are calling Lord Voldemort." He added, picking himself up off the floor.

"I think that is the first intelligent conclusion you've ever come to," Voldemort replied with a sadistic smile. Neil glared back at him, a look of disgust plastered across his face. "You know, I knew there was a good reason for my not liking you all those years ago," Voldemort continued, unphased by Neil's glowering expression. "Marrying a muggle. I assumed even you would be a better man than that. Evidently I was wrong." Neil's eyes flashed momentarily with a mixture of anger and fear.

"Leave my family out of this," He replied through gritted teeth. Voldemort chuckled indifferently.

"Don't worry, I have no interest in your muggle wife," Voldemort began, "My concern is with you." Neil's eyes narrowed at his words.

"If you've brought me here as a recruit, don't waste your time." Voldemort smirked, disregarding his comment.

"You're a Ministry official ... a high ranking one at that, are you not?"

"Yes."

"Then," Voldemort began, taking a step towards Neil, "you must know all about The Ministry's fruitless attempts to catch me, I'm sure." Neil eyed him as Voldemort took another step towards him, closing the gap between them until they were mere inches apart.

"So?" Neil replied, his eyes level with Voldemort's.

"So," Voldemort said, returning Neil's glare. "Tell the Ministry they can either join me in my endeavors, or face the wrath of Lord Voldemort." Neil snickered.

"What? You'll have your Death Eaters bloody them up too?" As quickly as the words had left his mouth, Neil fell to the floor, a blood curdling scream escaping his lips. Voldemort watched with mild interest as Neil's body writhed in pain. After a few seconds, Neil's body lay still at Voldemort's feet, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths as he struggled to recover from the assault. Pressing the toe of his shoe against Neil's body, Voldemort rolled him onto his back.

"I can assure you Mr. Lament, I am capable of much, much worse than you have just witnessed," Voldemort sneered, glaring down at the crippled man. "Grayback," Voldemort called, tearing his eyes away from his victim after a moment, "He's all yours ... just don't kill him. He has a message to deliver for me." With that, Voldemort walked out of the room, dawned his hood, and stepped back into the dreary, wet streets of London.

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Hello my lovely potter peeps! I got so excited to update that I just went ahead and wrote chapter two. I figured a chapter with what Tom is up to these days was a decent idea to get the ball rolling. Hope you like it.

Please PLEASE let me know what you guys think by giving this chappie some love! Ya'll are the best. Thank you for supporting me!