The Perfect Azkaban Breakout

8.03 PM, 26 September 1999

"You want me to make an Unbreakable Vow not to hurt Snape?" asked Harry incredulously. "How much blood is running through your firewhisky right now?"

"I am not drunk, Harry!" huffed Hermione. She appeared to be close to the point of tearing her hair out. Given that the argument had begun shortly after breakfast an hour before, this was understandable.

"He admitted to killing Dumbledore!" shouted Harry for the umpteenth time.

"Yes, we all know that! But he wants to kill Voldemort, and we need the git! Without him we would not have found all the Horcruxes, and you'd still be in Azkaban!"

"He's not a git! That's a compliment! He's a withered turd filled with the shit-flavoured nosejuice of a lazy half-assed flobberworm crossed with a vindictive grudge-bearing skrewt!"

8.04 PM

A couple of rooms away, Fred and George listened via their new (cordless) Extendable Ears. Both were taking careful notes.

"Oh, that's the best one so far."

"Did you get all the words?"

"Nyet. What did he say before flobberworm?"

8.24 PM

"But I'm not working with a murderer!"

Remus raised an eyebrow.

"Lucius Malfoy doesn't count! Malfoys are not human! I'm a killer, not a murderer!"

8.56 PM

"I'm not asking you to like him or forgive him, Harry," said McGonagall. "Merely to work with him for one day, and then all this will hopefully be over and you never have to see him again."

Harry said nothing, but put his left hand behind his back and gave his former Headmistress the finger.

"He said he was mistaken in his assumption of your character."

"I could have told him that. I know my father was an arrogant berk, but I am not my father."

"Harry, I know you are more Lily than James. But Snape is a stubborn fool about this and has only just admitted it to himself."

"How can you trust him? This is the screwed-up pond scum who invented the Cruciatus Potion last year and perfected it by tests on Muggles! This is the guy who tortured Dennis Creevey so badly we had to mercy kill him when we recovered him!"

"I do not deny that. Snape deserves to die, but Voldemort deserves to die even more. But we are forced to allow the lesser Evil to live. This is a truce. He swore oaths not to hurt any of us."

"You're oversimplifying, Headmistress. Truces are temporary things, and this is not. I know what the oaths say. He can still persuade Voldemort to give him a direct order to kill you and then do so!"

"And once Voldemort is dead, that loophole will not exist. In any case, do you think the Horcruxes would have been destroyed if it was not for the information he provided?"

"His information was faulty! Three people died retrieving the Horcruxes because he did not provide enough information!"

"You are not being reasonable, Harry. How could he get perfect information? Do you expect Tom to have given him a map with an X marking the spot with the Horcrux and three feet of parchment explaining how to destroy it?"

"When has Snape been reasonable? When has anything been reasonable? Was it reasonable for Snape to tell Voldemort enough of the prophecy to make my parents a target? Was it reasonable for Dumbledore to chuck me with the fucking Dursleys? Was it reasonable for ..."

Minerva morphed into her Animagus form, extended her claws, and scratched the nearest table leg in frustration.

9.13 PM

"Did you know that Snape was a friend of your mother's?"

Harry stared at Hermione in shock, and stormed out of the room. At least he tried to. He found himself caught in a Body Bind, levitated to the couch, and staring into Hermione's pleading face. He was thrown off balance - each of the previous four times Hermione had pulled this trick on him, her face had been irate.

"I remember what you saw in his Pensieve," said the witch. "I know he called your mum a Mudblood. But he told us that Lily gave him permission to call her that in public because the Slytherins would kill him if they knew he was friends with a Gryffindor Muggleborn! Can you imagine what they did to him in Slytherin when everyone knew his father was a Muggle? He asked Dumbledore to Sort him several times into Ravenclaw and the Headmaster refused every time!"

Hermione released the Body Bind.

"And you believed him?" asked Harry, rolling his eyes. He sat up on the couch to face his friend. "It's Snape! You believed Snape? If that was true, Moony would have told me! Besides, the Sorting Hat cannot resort anyone."

"Moony says he does not know about the Mudblood permission stuff," admitted Hermione, "but he says that he always suspected that they were friendlier than they appeared in public. And the Sorting Hat can resort someone if it's a question of life or death. Which it was."

"Great," muttered Harry. "The next thing you'll be telling me is that James Potter slipped my mother a Love Potion in their seventh year. No, wait, here's a better one - you'll tell me that Snape slipped my mother a Hate Potion in their Seventh Year for her protection. Oh, and Snape's my dad and I've been under a Glamour all my life to make me look like James Potter. Or ..."

"Harry!"

"What?"

"I don't suppose you'll believe me if I tell you something else Snape said."

"No, I won't."

"Alright."

Some minutes passed.

"Oh fine, Hermione, tell me!"

"You won't believe me."

"Yes, I already told you that. Tell me anyway."

"Say please."

"Hermione!"

"Harry."

"Damn you, woman! Okay, please tell me what the greasy git said."

"He said - and here I am extrapolating - that if Sirius had not existed, then he would never have become a Death Eater."

"What did he actually say?"

"He said he took the Dark Mark a month after Sirius led him to Lupin on the full moon."

Harry was silent for several moments.

"What did Minerva say about that?" he finally asked.

"She said she asked Dumbledore several times to expel Sirius. The Headmaster refused."

Two minutes passed. Hermione took out her Big Book of Cats, trying to narrow down her list of which type she wanted to become. Five minutes passed. She conjured a shot of espresso. Ten minutes passed. She summoned a pack of Marie biscuits and conjured a cup of tea to dip them in. Four minutes passed.

"Alright, Mione. You win. I'll swear not to hurt Snape. On one condition. I want him to fill a Pensieve with all the good memories he has of my mother. I want to know if they were really friends in private."

"I think that can be arranged," said Hermione. "Thank you."

9.20 PM

"It's over, Fred."

"How many good insults did we get?"

"Fifteen. Six of which are most remarkable, and worthy of our new line of misfortune cookies."

"I liked the bit where he called Draco the spawn of a submissive demented coelecanth and a dominant whip-loving octopus with scrawny tentacles and hearing problems."

"He didn't say whip-loving, he said freeloading."

"Does it matter?"

"Of course not. It's the thought that counts. You got the spirit of the insult right."

"You have to admit, he's got a lot more creative since he went to Azkaban. His previous insults were never longer than five words."

"Quite. We should ask him about that sometime."

27 September 1999

"Enter, Severus."

Contrary to popular belief, Lord Voldemort was not a Cruciatus-happy monster. At least not when Severus Snape was concerned. He had had several doubts about the Potions Master over the years, but they had been laid to rest when he killed the Headmaster. Snape was the only person he considered as an ally rather than a servant.

Of course, if Severus ever behaved as anything other than a grovelling servant, he would be punished.

The Potions Master entered the room, his back ramrod straight as always, and knelt below Lord Voldemort. It was a mark of honour that he was allowed to kiss the ring on Dark Lord's right hand instead of having to kiss the hem of his robes.

"Thank you for allowing me to defile your presence, my Lord."

"Rise, Severus. You have news?"

"Yes, my Lord. I have successfully infiltrated the Order of the Phoenix. They believed my lies that Dumbledore ordered me to kill him, and have made Unbreakable Vows not to hurt me."

"Excellent, Severus. I take it you had to make some Vows as well?"

"Of course, my Lord. But they have little Slytherin wisdom, and there are loopholes large enough to slip a herd of dragons through."

"You please me, as always. What have you discovered?"

"They are the ones who attacked Azkaban with the Basilisk. They were attempting to rescue Potter, but failed as one would expect. The Basilisk they used is yours, my Lord, from the Chamber of Secrets."

"That cannot be. Did not the Potter child kill my snake, by sheer luck of course, several years ago?"

"I heard from the tabby's own maw that your King of Serpents is alive. Dumbledore spread the story of Potter's victory to make the brat look good. In reality, the Basilisk was only wounded."

"How typical of Albus," sneered the Dark Lord. "But how are they controlling the serpent?"

"Forgive me, my Lord, but I was unable to determine this. However, there are some new members of the Order from other countries, and I would offer the guess that one of them is an unworthy Parselmouth like Potter."

"That does appear to be a likely explanation. Very well. Do you think you can enter the Chamber of Secrets and send the Basilisk to me?"

"I would need your assistance, my Lord. The new wards around Hogwarts prevent anyone with a Dark Mark from entering."

"Of course. I will temporarily disable your Mark and supply you with a set of recordings of Parseltongue commands. They will allow you to open the Chamber and order the Basilisk to shut its eyes and not hurt you. You will create a Portkey that brings the serpent to my seventh dungeon. It should be large enough. Then we will take my new pet to visit the Potter brat in Azkaban."

"I am truly honoured for your assistance, my Lord. When do you wish me to bring the serpent?"

"I will be waiting in the dungeon at nine o'clock tomorrow morning, Severus."

28 September 1999

The Order now had only two tasks left. The first was to kill Lord Voldemort. The second was to kill Harry Potter.

The first task proved to be easier than expected, to the point of being terribly anticlimactic. Not that anyone complained.

Snape informed Minerva of Tom Riddle's new plan, and she informed the others. Harry met the Death Eater at Hogwarts. With his glasses removed, he transformed into his serpentine form. Keeping his eyes shut or staring upwards, he Portkeyed with Snape to a dungeon in Riddle's Headquarters. Voldemort was waiting for them, and greeted his new pet. It was the last thing he ever did. Harry Potter, disobeying the Parseltongue commands of the Dark Lord, bent down his enormous head to stare into Riddle's red eyes.

Lord Voldemort died.

While Harry returned to his human form, the petrified body of Tom Marvolo Riddle toppled to the floor of the dungeon, face forward. It bounced a couple of times.

The two surviving wizards let out appropriate whoops of delight, and almost hugged each other. Fortunately for them, they remembered their mutual loathing in time.

Meanwhile, the wards around the mansion collapsed. Around the country, several people fell to the ground, clutching their left forearms. After six minutes, only five Death Eaters, including Snape, were still alive. Snape was unaffected because his Dark Mark had been deactivated by Voldemort when he went to fetch Harry. The other four, who included Antonin Dolohov and Evan Rosier, only survived by cutting off their left arms just below the elbow. The four promptly fled Britain.

Harry activated his long-distance audio Charm to inform McGonagall of the news, and heard the cheering of Order members around her. He then turned to Snape.

"I believe you have the honour of separating Tom Riddle's head from the rest of him, Mr Snape," said Harry, wiping his spectacles on his robe and putting them on.

"You have my thanks, Mr Potter. However, I have a much better idea," the spy replied with an evil grin. "You may want to move aside. I am hoping to make this messy." He pointed to Voldemort's stiff body, and performed a slow Diffindo from head to groin, leaving the Dark Lord in two mirrored pieces.

"You're right," said Harry, nodding appreciatively. "That is definitely a much better idea. Still a bit too clean, though." Tom's blood had frozen and refused to leak and create a mess.

"Indeed," said Snape, cocking his head with an expression of mild disappointment. "Who would have thought that Petrification would have its negative points?" He reached into his robe pockets and tossed a small object to Harry.

"What's this?" Harry asked.

"It's a camera, you dunderhead," replied the Potions Master.

Gilderoy Lockhart would have been proud of the resulting images. Harry took three photographs of Snape standing victoriously over the split body of Voldemort. They switched and Snape did likewise.

"That last picture will go very well on your Chocolate Frog card, Mr Snape."

"Do shut your gob, Mr Potter."

The two lifelong enemies shook hands - hesitantly and as quickly as possible - and wordlessly agreed on a policy of everlasting mutual disgust, distrust, and avoidance.

Snape Disapparated, and would only keep in direct contact with Minerva, Fleur, and Hermione.

Harry Disapparated to Order Headquarters, taking the two pieces of Voldemort with him.

30 September 1999

After two days of Riddle-centred photo shoots with Inner Order members and Outer Order members (who were informed of Harry's retrieval with varying degrees of openness), Voldemort's body was dumped by unknown vandals in the Fountain of Magical Brethren at the Ministry.

The vandals also modified the fountain so that the Centaur, House Elf and Goblin were haughtier, prouder, bolder, and in the midst of pulling a prank on the Wizard. Then they added a specially Flitwick-invented Charm to ensure that the fountain returned to this shape whenever the Ministry attempted to fix it.

The general public deemed this a small price to pay for the demise of You-Know-Who, and there was much celebration. Shops that had piled up stocks of fireworks in advance, such as that of a certain pair of identical redheads, made a killing.

After another day, the complete Inner Order and a few selected guests gathered at Twelve Grimmauld Place for the second and final task - the official murder of Harry Potter.

The experimental ape languishing in Azkaban had had several charms placed on it by Flitwick. One turned it into an audiovisual transmitter - a giant Potter-shaped scrying device - in the event that it faced the Dark Lord. Another turned it into a bomb that would leave a Hogwarts-sized crater if activated. A third Charm, which Flitwick was unable to make work over long distances, turned it into a mouthpiece that would emit anything said by the wizard who activated it.

None of these Charms were ever used.

The one that was used was the Self-Destruct Charm. It caused an aneurysm in the unfortunate ape, and could be remotely activated at the press of a button. This was perfect for a ceremony, and the diminutive Professor had been happy to pass the job of making the ceremony a memorable one to someone else.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," said Fred, wearing a rainbow-coloured three-piece Muggle suit and a neon bowler hat.

"And Harry," added George, wearing a similar suit but with a hat shaped like a snake head. The serpentine hat might have looked menacing at some point, but that was before the twins placed spectacles and a messy black-haired wig on it. They had also stuffed an apple in its mouth.

"We are gathered here today - "

"- to watch Harry Potter - "

"- the Boy-Who-Cooks-For-Us-All -"

"- he who brought to life the phrase 'if looks could kill' -"

"- with the Dark Wanker as an experimental subject - "

"Get on with it!" yelled Bill to his brothers.

"Shut it, Weasley!" yelled Fred back.

"We are gathered here today to watch Harry Potter - "

" - kill Harry Potter - "

" - so that he might start a new life as - "

George halted theatrically, squinting at the piece of paper where Harry had written the name of his new identity. Fred joined him, and they had a loud and insulting discussion complete with much finger pointing at the note and at Harry (who was busy rolling his eyes at the back of the room) regarding the name on it. Finally, they seem to come to a conclusion.

"Mordecai Asparagus Halfwit," said Fred solemnly.

"Hey!" shouted Harry.

"You really need to get better handwriting, mate," said George, shaking his head in sorrow.

"Yeah," added Fred, "there's absolutely no way that this name that you've written down is Evan Sprongfoot."

"Honestly!" exclaimed George in a perfect impersonation of Hermione. "How are you supposed to take over the world with a name like Sprongfoot?"

The twins ducked a ceramic otter that Hermione threw from her place at Harry's side. She must have prepared it beforehand, becaue it exploded behind them and the pink smoke rising from it formed the words 'Fred and George stink' for a second before disappearing. The twins turned their heads to see why everyone was laughing, but not quickly enough. They turned back to the audience with a grin, and gave the smug witch a thumbs-up.

"It is now time for Mr Sprongfoot - "

" - our favorite Dark Lord in training -"

" - the man with the deadly hiss -"

" - the Heir of Slytherin -"

" - the bane of Cornelius Fudge -"

" - et cetera, et cetera, et cetera -"

" - to kill off Harry Potter."

"Start clapping, you idiots!" barked Fred as the Basilisk Animagus walked to the front of the room.

Amidst raucous applause, Evan Sprongfoot bowed deeply and pressed the large (and hideously loud lime green) button that would kill off his public persona in Azkaban.