Lucius slid through Europe like the flu. The Muggle security forces were looking for him after he had lost his temper so badly outside of Prague and killed some border police and some Aurors who responded. He showed on camera but muggles sent to bring him in became oblivious to him when they caught sight of him. Coordination between the various security forces across magical and muggle bureaucracies was byzantine to the point of complete absurdity.
He found wizards as his Master required. That was the easy part. Rumor of good pay for someone willing to cast the Unforgivables had arrived long before Lucius ever did weighed down with the fat sacks of Voldemort's gold. The difficult part was finding wizards willing to fight in magical Britannia for the Dark Lord. It had not gone unnoticed that the free Death Eaters had disappeared over the course of the past few years until the most powerful of them, Lucius himself, had fled the country after being chased from his manor by a noted light family. His credence and his Lords were at an all time low. Large amounts of gold were required to offset the perception that the forces of the Dark were looking at an uphill fight in magical Britannia.
Lucius was more than ready to provide enough gold to secure the wizards the Dark Lord required. Malfoy loved spending the Dark Lord's gold. The Malfoy fortune was locked up tight after the family had fled Britain, an excuse he was happy to give to the rat formerly known as Wormtail. The Dark Lord's eyes had glowed very red indeed as he gave up the details to his vault. Malfoy was sure he would have been killed for suggesting that Voldemort use his own money to hire wands if he hadn't been slippery enough to have manoeuvred the Dark Lord into an Unbreakable Vow to not harm him or his.
Lucius had gathered the mercenaries in a small town on the English Channel to meet their commander. They numbered nearly forty souls. A ragtag mismatched lot, nervous and distrustful as they waited, all with backs to the wall and eyes on the exits. Wormtail entered the room, the wind swirling his travelling cloak about him, his eyes glowing a faint red. Men straightened in position and regarded him carefully. Mostly they were just brutes, looking for easy gold and willing to kill for it. Some few were looking for a more permanent working relationship with the once and future Dark Lord. Those few were not overly impressed with this particular incarnation of evil. The guy was weak; they all sensed it. He was just a bit more than a squib.
One of them, larger and dumber than the rest asked "So what's the job then governor? You need a bit of the dirty done I hear and will pay well, but it's details we haven't been hearing. I needs to know a bit more before I makes up me mind." Voldemort gave a small wave with his wand. Heavy wards slammed into place to prevent apparition. A massively loud voice announced that they had seconds to exit the building before it was destroyed.
Voldemort found himself at the ends of a small forest of wands. "Gentlemen, it is time we depart. I have taken steps to ensure your participation in my task. You may stay here and face the authorities, or take one of these portkeys. I look forward to seeing you at our destination when we will continue this most entertaining discussion."
Lord Voldemort dumped a small mound of port keys onto the table in the center of the room. "You have one minute to choose, then this building will cease to exist along with any wizard still in it." Lucius and Voldemort vanished in a swirl of color. Heavy spells impacted the sealed doors splintering them.
There was a mad scramble for portkeys. Some were slow or unlucky and were still in the room at the end of the minute. The Ministry of France was never able to ascertain exactly how many died in the massive explosion that claimed the lives of four of their operatives.
They were a very disgruntled mob as they arrived at the deserted farm in the far north of Scotland. A few attempted to curse the Dark Lord. While he did not have his old power, he did have his old knowledge of the Dark Arts and duelling. He killed them slowly. The rest were convinced their best chance was to go through with the plan, whatever the plan was, and hope to escape after the fight.
They drilled for their mission for several days, broom practice and duelling skills. Rewards were never given but punishment was plentiful. Remembering the suffering of the others that had defied the little red eyed man, the thugs held their peace.
Lucius was once again at his cousin Jorge's home. Narcissa seemed less than pleased that he had returned, normal for her, and very much less than pleased that she would remain in her current state for the foreseeable future.
"You have found the Dark Lord and he is embodied again is that not so?" Lucius sipped the excellent claret and nodded.
"Then why are we here?" There were few things that truly amused Lucius, but the thought of Voldemort's frustration with the limits imposed on him by his current body really did tickle Malfoy. He didn't smirk, he grinned.
"His incarnation is somewhat less than he had hoped it would be. He has possessed Wormtail. Pettigrew was never more than average, now he has extraordinary knowledge but still little power." As he had imagined Narcissa had more to say.
"He will gain power, and quickly, if the husk he inhabits now does not serve his purpose he will find another that will. You have made a deadly error Lucius." Then he let her know the extent of his Slytherin cunning.
"Voldemort has sworn an Unbreakable Vow while in spirit form to do no harm to me or mine." As schooled in poise under pressure as she was, this was too much. She burst into laughter.
"We are free of him. I never thought the day would come!" Lucius raised one eyebrow ever so slightly, cool to her enthusiasm.
"I am, and also you so long as you are mine." Delicious to see the fear creep into her eyes.
"Have a care husband; you play a dangerous game with one who has never lost." Lucius was unclear if she meant him or his Lord. He bowed as he exited himself from her chambers and entered his son's rooms.
"Draco, I am considering you gaining some experience in the service of the Dark Lord." His son, curled in an armchair before a low fire straightened to his feet.
"I do not care to gain that experience father. The Dark Lord will fail. I do not wish to align myself with him." Ordinarily Lucius would be whipping the boy for his insolence before he had finished his sentence.
"Why do you believe he will fail?" Draco watched his father's long pale hands fondle his cane, the cane that hid his wand and a sword.
"He will fail because he is insane. Rumors have reached us here - Uncle Jorge has kept us informed with what he thinks we should know." Draco took a pace to the fire, poked at it with an iron. Both of them were aware that Draco still held the iron.
"The information we have is almost nothing, the information we don't have is more interesting. There is no rumor of the Dark Lord's return. Word of your hiring mercenaries for some action in Scotland has reached us. Nothing about the return of the Dark Lord." He glanced at his father.
"You say he is returned. If he has it did not go well." Lucius nodded and gestured for his son to continue. "The only targets worth anything to him in Scotland are Hogwarts and Azkaban. Hogwarts is beyond him. He is going to storm Azkaban. His forces are a few hired wands, you, and himself in a weakened state. Does he still have the power to control the Dementors?"
Lucius pondered that thought. The Dementors were the key to Azkaban. Perhaps in this coming action a Malfoy would not risk the vanguard.
"And his insanity?" Draco swelled with pride; his father was listening to him, listening to him concerning something of vital importance to the Malfoys. "That he would try this plan at all is insane unless he knows he can control the Dementors. How strong is he?" Lucius snorted.
"You might beat him if you fought carefully." Malfoy nodded to his son, spun on his heel and left Draco to his imagination. The boy was growing up, time to inflate his ego. The deflation would be all the more delicious.
Voldemort and Lucius met late that night, the night before the raid. "Lucius are you prepared?"
"Yes Lord, I am ready." The red eyed rat stared at Malfoy.
"You have doubts." Lucius nodded.
"My Lord, the Dementors. They are the key to this battle. Can you control them? I know that I cannot, certainly not the numbers at the prison."
"The thing you do not say Lucius is that you think yourself the better wizard, and if you are unable then I must be as well. If I had not made that damnable vow I would kill you for your presumption. We will attack tomorrow night as planned. I will control the Dementors as planned. You will lead our forces against the Aurors as planned." Lucius smirked a little.
"If harm should come to me tomorrow my Lord, will your vow not be invoked? I think Algernon would be suitable to lead the men against the Aurors." Lucius enjoyed the hissing of the Dark Lord. It went on for quite a while. Malfoy assumed that he was being cursed in parseltongue.
"Inform Algernon he will lead the men. I will see to the Dementors." Lucius bowed himself from the room.
The mercenaries had trained hard for the past weeks; they had grown used to one another. None were friends but none were enemies. They were hired wands with a job to do. None of them expected their employer to take any pains to see they survived, that was the mercenaries' job. They looked at the plans with an eye for the times that they would decide to push ahead or not. The best time to decide about a fight was before it started. They would see the Dementors under control before any other fighting happened. Just the news that they were going to storm Azkaban had made the fees high enough that this would be the last job for most of them. A few had left when the objective was revealed, wanting no part in the attempt. All of the ones who left had spent some time at the prison. No money would tempt them to go near the Dementors again.
Algernon was the biggest, the meanest and the dumbest, so he spoke for the mercs.
"My Lord, you better have them Dementors handled when we get there or we don't get there. We aren't going in unless we can see them clear of the island, just so you know."
The Dark Lord had hissed and spat for minutes in his frustration. He burned for his old power when the world feared his name. True he had defeated two of the mercenaries. He had also been exhausted and wounded quite badly. Those he had fought hadn't been the best of them either. Voldemort knew his troops were measuring him to a fine ounce. If he didn't regain his power soon, his rise would be difficult indeed. The sheep might begin to think they could resist.
After the noon meal the next day Lucius rose to speak to the men. "We go in tonight after midnight. There are sleeping potions over there, take one as you leave and get some solid rest. We have a long flight and a short fight just as we drilled. Algernon will lead the combat team against the Aurors. Remember to take the Aurors down hard - no stunning. We don't want to fight them again. We should portkey our captives away without problems. As back up remember to bring the harnesses for your brooms. The three of you putting down the anti apparition and anti portkey wards will do so under my direction. The Dark Lord will handle the Dementors. Do your job fast or suffer the consequences. This time tomorrow, you're all paid and on your way. Any questions?"
Many of the men seemed worried about the small round wizard with red eyes. He was vital to their survival. If he didn't do his bit, they were all going to be kissed the next evening. Voldemort sensed their unease. "I will control the Dementors; they will come to heel when I call. Do your jobs and get your pay. Don't and things will not go well with you." By the end of his little speech it was difficult to discern his words amidst the hissing.
The Dark Lord and Malfoy watched the men file past the table and take the dreamless sleep potion before heading to their bunks. Some of their hands shook. Voldemort burned for his Death Eaters, his sworn warriors and their total obedience. He retired to his room considering his plans a final time.
Lucius kicked the mercenaries awake at midnight. He dispensed pepper up potion to them all; he needed clear heads this night. They mustered in the barn, each with their broom and carry harness, wand and whatever other weapon they favored. Algernon passed out port keys to his men once they had mounted their brooms. Lucius and the warders mounted up and got their portkeys from the Dark Lord. They would arrive outside the Ministry wards and overlay them with their own.
The Dark Lord mounted his broom and nodded at Lucius. The ward team ported away. Voldemort nodded at the combat team a minute later and watched as they vanished in a wash of color. Finally he activated his own portkey, set to bring him into position beside the warders. He phased into being over the cold North Sea, wind wailing around him, rain lashing him. A bit to one side he could see Lucius and the ward team. He gestured the combat team forward and went to check on the warders.
"There is already a set of wards here My Lord. Someone else is attempting to storm the fortress tonight." Lucius heard a hiss that might have been "Dumbledore! Get those wards up Malfoy!" Voldemort flattened himself to his broom and raced for the dimly seen island. He passed the combat team quickly. They were in no hurry to engage until the Dementors were handled. No matter, soon the old fool would be kissed and Azkaban would be his, he would have his choice of powerful wizards instead of this squib he hated being in, perhaps he would use Dumbledore as his next incarnation. He laughed relishing the idea. Voldemort streaked on, smiling as he neared his victory. He could see flashes of light, magical combat at the fortress. The Dementors were gathered there. He felt his wards come up. Azkaban was isolated now, soon it would be his.