Chapter Text
Chapter Fifty-One
Azkaban had always been known as a safe and secure prison that anyone would be foolish to break into or out of. But Lord Voldemort had always liked a challenge. However, this would be less of a challenge because of Hadrian and Dorian. The ease with which they formed a plan together made it seem like they had done something on this scale before. And the dementor issues would be under control.
Marigold, Mei, Severus, Narcissa, and Barty were on the healing team, staying behind in the manor, preparing for the chaos that would take place when they arrived back with the newly freed Death Eaters.
On the night of January 1st, they apparated to the coast of Scotland and flew the rest of the way to Azkaban over the North Sea. They landed on the small stretch of land, instantly he felt that dreadful chill that came with being in the presence of dementors.
A singular dementor came out of the prison and approached them. He was almost completely distracted by the foreign sounds that came out of Hadrian’s mouth. Hadrian had a soft smooth voice in any language he spoke, but this made his voice rough… gravelly… deadly. It was unlike anything he heard before. From a human, at least. Something like that shouldn’t come from a person. Yet it suited Hadrian. The chills on his body intensified when the dementor responded in the same language.
The dementor paid him no attention, it was focused on Hadrian. It turned around and headed back into the prison.
“He’s going to kiss the night guard and gather the other dementors so Father and I can send them home,” He said flippantly as if he hadn’t ordered someone’s death. “Is grandfather loosening the veil?”
“No need.”
Voldemort froze, somehow he knew exactly who that voice belonged to. A being he had done everything in his power to never come face to face with was now standing behind him. Now he had been trying to avoid the concept of death, he didn’t know there was an entity to be avoided. But that didn’t matter. Death was behind him and he refused to turn around.
The chill he got from the dementor could not compare to the cold that Death brought. It was as if he had brought a winter storm with his appearance, rendering his warm clothes useless. His voice had the same inflection as Hadrian’s when he spoke in that language— what he could now infer was Death’s own language.
Hadrian’s magic washed over him like a comforting blanket, warming him up.
“Father, what are you doing here?” Dorian questioned, addressing the entity with such familiarity, that it felt as if it should not be allowed.
“You two are strong, I have no doubt you can bring all the dementors to my realm, but I know that’s not the end of your plans tonight. I thought I would save you the trouble and lend you a hand.”
With Death’s arrival, the dementors started to come out in waves and surround them. Death spoke to them in his language, his voice both harsh and soft at the same time.
Voldemort would never admit to being terrified, but there was no other word for the emotion he was feeling. He hadn’t felt like this since he had been expelled from his body all those years ago. This time, he was close to death in a different way.
Darkness clouded his vision as he got his first glimpse of Death. Death flew to the middle of the dementors, who swarmed him like dogs happy to see their owner. It was obvious that Death created the dementors in his image, looking at him from the back. He had the same shadowy cloak. His was more put together, it was made of thick material, without a rip in sight, and it flowed out in a more dramatic fashion. As he moved, shadows followed him.
Death held his hand out, as it panned to the side, a hostile black vertex formed against the night. A strong act of pure magic that could knock a lesser wizard off their feet. He was not a lesser wizard and yet it took strength to remain standing. The show of power clearly illustrated the difference between gods and men. The dementors swarmed into the portal between the living and dead with no hesitation. It was like a sea of black overcame their vision until the last of them disappeared into the portal.
Death turned around slowly, he appeared much more human from the front, yet at the same time. Despite not being Dorian’s birth father, they shared a resemblance. It was jarring.
“And it’s nice to see you again, Alexei, Julio. I hear congratulations are in order,” he smirked at the couple.
“Thank you,” Julio replied, seemingly unaffected.
Death looked him in the eye and tilted his head to the side, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Lord Voldemort. Unfortunately, it’s time for me to go. I have something to care of.” Death followed the dementors into the portal, it closed behind him.
“That will never be normal no matter how many times I meet your father,” Alexei said, shaking his head.
Hadrian waved them off, “he adores you guys.”
Voldemort wondered just how many times he had met Death. How often would a surprise visit from Death come from being around the Peverells?
“Now that that is taken care of. We should get on with the next steps. Don’t want to be here all night,” Hadrian said, “so shall we?”
Voldemort had mainly recovered from Death’s presence, there was a part of his mind that was still reeling from the mere idea that Death was an actual being that stood in front of him. Hadrian’s magic was still sticking to him like it did not want to let go.
“Yes, let’s get going. We don’t have all night.”
“Perfect, cast your stealth spells then cloaks on. Most prisoners should be asleep, and it is pitch dark in there that they will not be able to see us. We’ll go straight to the Death Eater wing and get to work. They are confined in a completely separate area.” Hadrian explained. They had gone over the plan beforehand so there was no confusion.
They had all drank a potion before they came made by Mei to sharpen their eyesight in the dark. Voldemort became instantly aware of its effectiveness when they entered the prison. The night sky was illuminated by the moon and stars so its effect was not as noticeable as it was in a pitch-dark building. It wasn’t perfect eyesight but they could see enough to navigate through the building.
Dorian knew where to go as he had visited Azkaban years ago to direct the dementors away from Sirius Black. So he glad the way to the confined wing where the Death Eaters were housed.
The Dementors were the biggest piece of security the prison had. Voldemort was able to unlock the first door with an unlocking charm. The Lestrange brothers were inside. He placed a deep sleeping spell on them so Hadrian could take their blood without them waking. Tomorrow they would all wake up out of Azkaban and know that their lord had freed them.
Hadrian crouched down and collected blood from both of them, he held two small vials with a few drops of blood from each. “Okay, you can send them away now.”
Voldemort dropped a portkey on each of their bodies, it would bring them to the infirmary he set up at his property. He turned to watch what Hadrian was doing, he had been curious about these fake bodies ever since Hadrian suggested it. He knew a way to make one but typically they did not last.
However, it was clear Hadrian was doing something very different when he walked out of the cell and unshrank a large cauldron that he had pulled out of his bag. He added a drop of blood from one of the vials. Hadrian then cut himself with a blade he pulled out of nowhere and allowed his blood to drip into the cauldron. Hadrian added a white powder that he had in a large container to the cauldron then a drop of one filled with a black liquid. He began to chant in what seemed like a mix of Latin and the language of death.
It was revolting but fascinating to watch as a body began to grow out of thin air in the appearance of Rabastan Lestrange. It started with his skull and then formed a face, growing the rest from the face down from the cauldron.
“Incredible. What was the powder?”
“Crushed bones,” Hadrian replied, he had placed the “body” off to the side as he repeated the process for Rodolphus.
He wanted to ask where the bones were from. They couldn’t be human bones. Apothecaries carried various types of animal bones, surely that was it.
“It’s mine, it wouldn’t work if I got it from anyone else. Skele-Gro is pretty handy.”
He stared at Hadrian, wondering if he knew how incredible he was. Hadrian repeated the process with the other Lestrange brother. There were two identical bodies to the real brothers lying right in front of him. It was like they never left. The only issue was they looked alive, just as if they were sleeping.
“Could you animate these and pose them as living things?” He questioned, imagining the possibilities of a spell like that.
“I could, it’s much more difficult and won’t last without constant magical energy from me. So I wouldn’t do it for a long time.”
He notes how Hadrian says he wouldn’t do it for a long time, not that he couldn’t.
Dorian patted Hadrian on the back, “I can take it from here.” He told Hadrian as he levitated to bodies back into their cell.
Hadrian nodded and looked at Voldemort, “two down, eight to go.”
He followed Hadrian to the next cell, which was Bellatrix by her lonesome. Her eyes had started to open as he was placing the sleep spell on her but closed quickly as the spell took into effect. An awake Bellatrix was most definitely not something they needed right now. She had always been spirited, too much at times, Azkaban couldn’t have helped that. He had already warned Marigold that she would be a handful but he wasn’t even sure the extent of that.
Into the early hours of the next day, Hadrian replaced each Death Eater with a perfect look alike. After each one, Dorian would spell them to look as if they had been given a dementor’s kiss. If Voldemort hadn’t witnessed this whole operation himself, he would have believed they had all died by dementors that went rogue. The story that the public would believe. He was so curious about how this would be perceived by the public. Each day lately had been filled with a curiosity of what would happen next. He wouldn’t have it any other way.