The ministry still denies the return of Lord Voldemort, and Ginny has been sent to Azkaban along with Sirius, who shielded her when the Aurors accused her ( years too late to be useful) to have unleashed a basilisk in Hogwarts. This is the story of their break out.

The sky was stormy, the heavy clouds hid lightning that suddenly discharged into the sea below, with booming thunders covering even the sound of the crashing waves. The wind was so strong that one couldn't tell the rain from the saltwater if not for the taste it left on the tongue.

All the water suspended in the air helped to freeze to the bone the wizard, along with the harsh and unmistakable presence of the dementors, that circled the prison of Azkaban.

The wizard stood alone on a rock buffeted by unrelenting waves. He was almost two meters tall, with broad shoulders. His figure was hugged by a long, black trenchcoat opened on the front, revealing a scaled armour of deep green, with light blue runes slowly sliding over it, like shadows on the wall. The man donned a simple white mask that covered his whole face, with a red band running horizontally over his eyes. The mask' orbits shone of the same light blue of the runes running over his armor, like eldritch fires. Around his neck, a Buddhist beaded necklace, with each of the beads encased in a net string.

Each of his fingers but the thumbs had a different ring. The wizard rose his hands in front of himself, smiling wistfully and muttered under his breath:

"On his right hand proudly shone,

Iron, and Stone,

Wood and Bone.

Another four stood on the left hand.

One of blood in a flowing band,

One was air all whisper-thin,

A ring of sand held death within.

Like an ember shone the one of flame,

And the last one space could tame."

He moved his left hand forward, with a grabbing motion. And where his hand should have closed on nothing but air and rain, he wrapped his fingers around the shaft of a spear that appeared out of nowhere. The wooden shaft was made of three different materials: whistlethorn, fir and ironwood. It was two meters and ten centimetres long, with a spiky stone bottom, it's entirety was covered in runes so entwined that couldn't be distinguished from random scratches. The top of the spear was made of a very deadly frail-looking crystal shaped like a straight twenty centimetres long blade. At the base of the blade, a little red stone pulsed steadily, like a beating heart.

He wasn't nervous, after all, he was sure that everything went well.

The wizard handled the weapon carefully, looking for imperfections in its design. Finding none, he opened his hands, but instead of falling the spear disappeared once again in thin air. The wizard rolled his shoulders, bracing himself for the effort he was about to sustain. He crouched, and jumped forward, slashing down with both of his arms.

Only that his arms were now powerful wings, and instead of the previous trenchcoat there was a coat of brown and white-coloured plumage. His head was no longer hidden by a mask but had a grey-blue, raptor beak and a crest of light brown feathers that looked almost like a mane. The steely pointed boots morphed into strong talons with dangerous claws.

This Philippine eagle had a wingspan of 230 centimetres, and it weighed around 6kg.

The powerful bird soared the sky, battling air currents and wind alike, ignoring the battering rain and the aggressive cold.

Fifteen minutes later, give or take, the eagle landed on the top of Azkaban, becoming the mysterious wizard once more.

He didn't waste a single second and slammed the bottom of the spear on the roof of the prison. The sone floor crumbled in a fifty centimetres radius around the bottom of the spear.

The masked wizard jumped in, and the spear crystal blade started to shine of faint white light. The dementors that were patrolling the corridors steered clear of him, but were fast to follow, since every cell that he surpassed became suddenly accessible, the bars that kept the dark creatures from reaching the prisoners. He went along the corridors skipping while humming a haunting tune.

Soon he reached one of the two prisoners he was looking for, he entered it quickly leaving the spear on the edge of the cell, to protect them both from the dementors.

Before the witch was able to even recognize the presence of an intruder, he forced her weak body to drink a dose of Draught of Living Death. When she stilled, the wizard picked a few hairs from her unmoving form, and let them fall into another vial. The poly juice potion inside quickly became of a raspberry red. Satisfied, the wizard pocketed the vial, before opening a bag lined with undetectable expansion charms on the side of the unconscious witch. He gently lowered Ginevra Weasley inside before closing the bag and putting it away into a hidden pocket beneath the enchanted hide armour.

He grabbed his spear on his way out and descended deeper into the prison, opening every cell in which he recognized a death eater. Finally seeing Sirius Black he repeated the same process, placing him safely into his expanded bag (he had prepared it filling it with pillows), but only after having prepared another vial of poly juice with a few strands of his hair. He had to be a tiny bit forceful, but Sirius Black knew how to resist dementors better than anyone, so it hadn't been a surprise.

That silly dog managed to let himself be captured again, and while shielding Ginevra from the Aurors. It hardly mattered that the evidence that led to the youngest Weasley investigation was circumstantial. Let yourself be seen with an escaped convict and proof of your misdeeds is really no longer needed. And they dared fault the youngest Weasley for unleashing a basilisk, stuff that happened years before, in the meantime denying the return of Lord Voldemort. The wizard frowned under the mask, he had never liked the ministry that much.

When the masked wizard finished counting a good number of death eaters he made his way back to the top. He forced a couple of soul-less wizards to drink the two vials of polyjuice he had prepared. Once they had finished morphing, the masked wizard brought them respectively in Sirius and Ginevra' cells, where he killed them slowly, nailing them on his spear multiple times.

He repaired the hole in the roof through which he came in, before skipping down the prison once again. The haunting tune always present, it sounded like a macabre lullaby.

He collected all of the death eaters that he had left to the dementors before, placing them in another bag lined with expansion charms. Once the wizard reached roughly half of Azkaban's height, he noticed that the pressure exercised by the dementors on the Patronus ward kept in place by the spear dimmed. It didn't fade completely, oh no, but the wizard let out a relieved sigh nonetheless. The wizard stopped humming his tune.

He briefly touched his mask with the rings of bone and blood. His faced morphed into a pale, serpentine one, with gleaming red eyes and a lipless mouth.

The wizard masked as Lord Voldemort strode forward menacingly, assuming a new rhythm with his steps.

Now for the hard part. the wizard thought, disillusioning himself.

At the higher levels, there were the maximum-security cells, with an exclusively dementor based patrols. Things changed the lower one went, and it was necessary for a successful escape. The first hit wizard on guard duty was speared through the chest, and the suddenly visible spear seemed to be drinking his blood. The red stone encased at the base of the blade glowed a little more brightly, and started to give off ominous feeling.

By the time the wizard reached the first floor, another six guards had died. And finally the alarm rung.

When the wizard reached Azkaban's entrance, he was wielding a wand in each hand (taken from the corpses of the guards he had killed).

Johnson had been an auror for seven years, and he hated to admit it, but while the position as an Azkaban guard was virtually the safest job in DMLE, and well paid too, it scared him shitless.

Maybe it was the always stormy sky, or the waves that crashed against the rocky coast of the little island, or more probably the presence of dementors and desperate, miserable inmates. Somewhat always made him tense, he was always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

So when the alarm rung he cursed himself for having accepted the job, but duty-bound, reached the others to the main entrance of the prison.

It was then that they all felt it. At first, it was a subtle difference from the usual gloomy atmosphere, that turned heavier with each passing moment, before becoming downright threatening.

When they saw the intruder, half of them was left paralyzed by fear.

"It's him!"

"He's back!"

"You Know Who!"

The other half was either uncaring for their own lives, or simply mad. They raised their wands against him: "Drop the wands and surrender yourself!" they ordered.

The Dark Lord tilted his head, studying curiously the insignificant little creatures that dared stand in his way. With a teasing smile that had no place on his inhuman face, Lord Voldemort reached for his necklace, before pulling a single string, undoing a knot.

In half a second, all 108 beads came free from the net that was keeping them in place. Every single bead grew to the dimensions of a quidditch bludger, and even worse: they started behaving like them. After a whole second, half of them became invisible, and the Dark Lord started raining curses on them.

Johnson finally rose his wand arm, choosing to attack Lord Voldemort. If he had to die, he would buy enough time for the Ministry to send reinforcements. In that moment he fekt at least three bludgers slamming into him and he was thrown out the main entrance, landing roughly on the hard ground, under the stormy sky. He tried to get up when everything went black.

When Johnson came to his senses, he saw the Dark Lord slowly walking under the stormy sky, all the guards had been tossed around like ragdolls. He tried to move, but the bludgers had done a number on him, he couldn't even twitch a finger. He could feel how his bones had been pulverized all over his body. He tried to fall unconscious again, but to no avail, the throbbing, agonizing pain was keeping him wide awake. All he managed was a wheezing gasp that went unheard under the rain.

He saw You Know Who opening his hands, letting the wands he had been using fall to the ground. Suddenly he was holding a spear. He twirled it around himself, the red stone beating a furious rhythm that kept growing faster, the crystal blade of the spear shone of the purest white light. He completed his movements slamming the spear into the round blade first.

The white crystal shattered, while the whole spear vanished in a silvery flash that left him blind. However, he didn't need eyes to feel the wards around Azkaban unravelling. The dementors presence, always so deeply intertwined with the very idea of the prison, was mysteriously absent. He heard the blood-freezing cry of Morsmordre, and the telling crack of apparition, who told him that for some strange reason, he was still alive.

The masked wizard appeared with a crack over the white cliffs of Dover, near a cage covered by an oilcloth. He blanketed himself in wearing charms, before divesting himself of everything he had on him. His rings crumbled to dust, their purpose accomplished. He threw everything into the same bag that held Ginevra Weasley and Sirius Black.

Finally, he felt the effect of the poly juice fading, and when she had once again her natural, petite form, she dressed herself in clothes that she had prepared days before. She also donned the ministry badge for visitors she had obtained through the visitor access. Over it there was written: Luna Lovegood, international portkey.

She freed the albatross from the cage where she had put him a few hours before, and tied to his feet the two enchanted bags. "I know it's a long way to the Philippines, but I know you're very strong and resilient, so I don't have to worry. Here, this will help." And tapping gently the albatross on his head, she whispered 'Impervious.".

The enormous bird ruffled his feathers, checking that whatever the witch had done to him wasn't harmful. He then started running clumsily along the edge of the cliff before finally taking off.

She took out the time turner she borrowed, and gave it a few turns, after that she took a deep breath to recenter herself: time was so confusing at times.

She apparated to Diagon Alley, from there she apparated in front of the visitor entrance. She entered the phone booth dialling 6442, and when the automatic voice asked who and why was visiting, she focused for a couple of seconds, trying to remember it right: "I'm Lucius Malfoy, and I'm going to help my master break into Azkaban." The metallic badge was immediately offered, and it said: Lucius Malfoy, aiding break out.

Luna skipped merrily through the Atrium, weaving her way through the busy crowd. For so.e reason, she was always in the blind point of everyone, and when she crossed the wand checking line no alarm sound, because she was, after all, already inside. She reached an empty elevator, and pressed the button that led the deepest underground. While she was waiting, she disillusioned her self with a single, silent tap of her willow and demiguise heartstring wand.

She exited the elevator a few seconds after the younger, less tired version of herself started walking to the circular room. Luna, with an invisible Luna for company, soon reached the circular antechamber full of doors, where she politely asked for the Time Room.

Luna and her doppelganger entered together with the chamber. The first Luna picked up a time turner, and the second one put down the one she used in its proper place, along with Lucius Malfoy's badge.

The younger Luna couldn't resist the temptation and turned back, noticing the badge and reading it. She giggled causing her older self to grin knowingly. She had remembered it right!

Visible and invisible Luna travelled together into an empty elevator, that led them to the Department of Magical Travel.

During the wait, older Luna turned visible, subjecting herself to the scrutiny of her younger self, who handed over a pepper up potion with a serene smile.

They kelt a companionable silence until they reached the DMT, and younger Luna turned herself invisible, before pressing the Atrium button.

Older Luna skipped her way to her destination humming a happy tune, the pepper up had really been a marvellous idea!

"Good afternoon!" she said once she had reached the desk for intercontinental portkeys. "I am Luna Lovegood and I have a reserved portkey to the Philippines!" she exclaimed with a smile.

The wizard that sat behind the desk sent her an unimpressed look, before answering: "Room 5, your portkey will live in five minutes. Have a safe trip.".