Chapter 1 – You Keep What In Your Ear?

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related entities belong to J.K. Rowling.

Cornelius Fudge really was thick as two short planks, or at least, that's what Harry Potter was thinking as he found himself landing heavily on a stone floor. Tonks mouthed a vague apology to him has he rolled over, rubbing his elbow as Dawlish sneered at him, locking the door and striding off. Tonks lingered for a moment, looking miserable, then scuttled after Dawlish.

Sitting up, Harry checked his elbow. It was bruised and not broken, to his relief; he was sick of breaking, cutting, or losing bits of himself. He sighed, rubbing first the red circles around his wrists where he'd been bound, then the serial number that was still smarting. First his forehead, then his hand, now his neck. They just had to keep marking him, painfully but more importantly obviously, such that he'd never be able to walk without being recognized.

After the whole fiasco at the Department of Mysteries, Lord Voldemort had managed to break out the majority of the Death Eaters within a day. Desperate not to look bad, Fudge had decided that Harry could go back to his old job as the Ministry's punching bag, and dumped him in the now Death-Eater-less Azkaban prison, no doubt alongside some urging from his dear Undersecretary. Harry hadn't thought they'd repeat imprisoning someone without a trial, but there he was.

And they'd locked up his friends with him!

Harry sat in his cell fuming. It had taken almost the whole year to convince people he wasn't crazy and now the ministry was probably telling everyone he was a Dark Lord. And in all honesty, he was contemplating becoming one for kicks at this point. It would make a nice change from 'Harry saves Wizarding Britain and everyone is an ungrateful berk'. Honestly, maybe he should pick up some dark magic, not as bad as Voldemort, of course, but enough to kick the Death Scoffers to hell and back. It wasn't like his situation could get much worse – locked up with a dead godfather and a prophecy hanging over his head. Well, it could. He could be dead. But on the bright side, he'd see his family again… Moony might be a bit cut up, though. Where was Moony, anyway? The Order had shown up, what was going on there? What about Tonks and Kingsley, would they be in trouble over the following days? Oh, if they tried anything, Harry would make them pay, even if he had to come back as a ghost and haunt the Ministry for the rest of his days…

He didn't know how long exactly he was stewing in his cell. At some stage, he might have dropped off to sleep, sitting on the flat mattress with his back against the cold stone wall. They'd brought the students in at night, so Harry hadn't gotten much sleep.

What he did know was at some point after dawn but before midday, a rock went flying through a tiny hole in the wall and hit the ground at his feet. Harry looked at it, then the hole in the wall, then went to put his eye against the hole. This turned out to be a mistake, as his glasses were on the floor and a pebble hit him directly in the eye.

"Ouch!"

"Oh, hello, Harry."

Harry paused, rubbing grit out of his eye. "Luna?"

"I was wondering when you were going to start talking," the voice said idly. "But I suppose your mind has been full of wrackspurts."

Yes, that was most definitely Luna. "Why are you throwing rocks through the hole?"

"I wanted to attract your attention, silly," Luna replied. Harry could almost see her eyes widening with expression.

"Yes?" he said. "Why?"

"I'm going to go for a walk," Luna said matter-of-factly.

"A – a walk? Luna, you can't simply go for a walk, we're locked up. Unless you can pick the lock. Come to think of it, Fred and George brought that up in second year… ugh, I feel like an idiot now…"

"Of course I can go for a walk. They didn't leave guards for us, because they don't think we can get out. They think we're incapable – I believe Dawlish thinks I'm crazy. I'm glad. If he didn't, he might have kept us separate."

"Dawlish thinks you're crazy? Really?"

"Oh, yes, it's terribly obvious. But back to our walk, Harry…"

"How?" Harry asked hopelessly. "Unless you've smuggled a wand in here, or you can shrink to the size of a beetle…"

"As a matter of fact," Luna said cheerfully, "I have smuggled a wand in here."

Harry choked. "You – what?"

Luna giggled lightly from the other side of the wall. "Oh, Harry, did you forget you brought a Ravenclaw along?"

"How?" was all Harry could manage to get out.

"I thought Fudge might do something like this," Luna professed dreamily. "The nargles told me, and anyone with a name like that isn't to be trusted."

"I… see?" Harry didn't see.

"I shrunk a wand down and hid it in my ear. It's still a bit small, but the spell should wear off in a couple of minutes. I also shrunk down your cloak and hid it in my other ear. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Harry said weakly.

"That's good," Luna said cheerfully.

"What about the wand the ministry took?" Harry questioned her curiously. "They said it was yours."

"It was. The nargles gave me this one. I think it belongs to one of the Slytherins," Luna said thoughtfully.

"O – oh," Harry said, wondering if the rest of the school was safe around the unfortunate Slytherin who was currently missing their wand.

"Ah! It's grown back. Now, about that walk…"

"I'd love to come," Harry replied softly. "I think everyone would like to come."

"Just around the prison, of course," Luna said amiably. "We'd never get off the island."

"Of course."

Harry sat and waited for a moment before he heard Luna open her cell door. In a moment, she was tapping his with the stolen wand, and it was swinging open. He sat on the mattress and blinked up at her. For someone who'd been thrown into Azkaban without a trial, she looked remarkably normal – or as normal as Luna Lovegood could ever be. "Come on, then, Harry," she chirped, holding out a hand. "Let's go explore our new home."

So Harry took her hand and they walked out of the cell, and if Minister Fudge knew what he'd just set off, he would have fed his conniving Undersecretary to Aragog and then jumped off the Ministry roof. Luna Lovegood and Harry Potter were in no way deranged, much less any of the other four. That didn't mean that they, along with the rest of Dumbledore's Army's power structure, were safe to leave alone to their own devices with two nice big targets to plot against. Not at all.

Smiling, Luna started ticking off the people they had to free for their new group. Pissed, duel-master Boy-Who-Lived: check. Mad genius girl (oh yes, Luna knew she was at least a little mad, after all, the smartest people were): check. Four more friends to go.


"Harry! Luna!" Neville scrambled over to Harry and Luna. When they had entered, he had been sitting on his mattress, his face buried in his hands, looking like he might cry at any moment. The moment he had noticed their footsteps, his head had jerked up as he tried to appear normal – defiant, even. Now, he was gazing at them, having jumped up, his face sad but betraying hope despite everything. "How – what – you got out – is that a wand? What's going on?"

"Easy, Nev," Harry said, though he wasn't really in the best state of mind either, at that point. "It turns out – uh – Luna smuggled a wand into Azkaban." He nodded to Luna, who was unlocking Neville's door as they spoke. "She shrunk it down and hid it in her ear."

"Oh," was all Neville said.

"I also brought Harry's invisibility cloak in my other ear," Luna said cheerfully as she threw open the door to Neville's cell.

"Oh." Neville blinked, his mind catching up with the rest of him. "Right. Are we escaping?"

"We'd never make it off," Harry said gloomily.

Luna, unfazed, explained, "We're going for a walk around. Then I'm going to pick a cell – mine had a bad view – and make it mine. I think I'll make the walls blue…"

"You – what?" Neville spluttered, as Harry, who hadn't heard about this, blinked, bug-eyed, at the smiling girl.

"Well, we'll be here for a while, according to the nargles," Luna explained, as if it was very simple. "So we should make ourselves at home. There isn't much us in bathing yourself in anger like Harry was, you'd go crazy."

"So… you're painting a cell blue?" Neville asked, puzzled and looking like he might laugh, which was much better than when they'd arrived.

"Baby blue, I think," Luna commented. "Maybe with some silver and bronze, I do so like those colours…"

Loyal, determined, lieutenant: check.


Hermione stopped pacing around her cell to stare at the trio standing on the other side of the bars. She examined them for nearly a minute, before pinching herself and yelping.

"I could have just hit you with a Stinging Jinx, you know," Luna commented.

"How did you get out?" Hermione demanded. "Why do you have a wand – oh, I'm sorry! Are you all okay? They didn't treat you too roughly, did they? Mine were okay, at least – none of you are hurt, are you?"

"No," Neville said.

"Not worse than Snape," Harry shrugged.

"Dawlish thought I was crazy," Luna said amiably.

"Right," Hermione said. "We can't escape."

"No, but we may as well explore a bit. Maybe we'll figure something out while we're at it," Harry shrugged.

"And Luna's going to give her cell a makeover, as well as moving into a new one," Neville added.

"That too."

"I suppose that makes sense," Hermione conceded, gears turning in her mind as always. "Are you going to let me out?"

"Of course, Hermione," Luna smiled, tapping the wand on the lock and letting the door slide open.

"Where did you get the wand?" Hermione asked curiously.

"I hid it in my ear," Luna replied.

Hermione scrunched her nose slightly. "That's gross… and I really wish I'd thought of that."

Walking knowledge depository, Brightest-Witch-of-her-Age: check.


"You got out," Ron said blankly, from where he was sitting, cross-legged, on the floor.

"Yes," Harry said. "Luna did it."

"Oh. What are we doing?" Ron asked, tilting his head slightly curiously.

"Exploring, mostly. We can't get off the island."

"Are you letting me out?" Ron asked. Harry was starting to worry the stress might have made his friend regress slightly.

"Yes."

"Wait, Loo – Luna's got a wand?" Ron questioned them, looking first blank, then puzzled.

"I have Harry's cloak, too," Luna said, producing it.

At that, Ron's face broke into a grin. "Wicked," he said, and Harry smiled. Ron was fine, just confused, and that was a good thing for his best friend.

Righteous but nevertheless brave lancer: check.


"Hi, guys," Ginny said, leaning against the bars on the door.

She seemed perfectly normal, which had Harry worried. "Are you okay?" he asked, frowning.

"Of course I am!" Ginny bristled. "Just because I'm a year younger than you, Harry Potter –"

"Not like that!" Harry said hastily. "I just thought – I was halfway between drowning myself in angst and feeling like I was having a really weird dream, Neville was in a pit of depression, Hermione wanted answers, and Ron was confused. You seem fine."

"It's Luna." Ginny rolled her eyes as if it was obvious, before turning to Luna and raising an eyebrow.

"Shrunk in my ear. The nargles told me to take Harry's cloak, too," Luna smiled serenely.

"Cool!" Ginny exclaimed, clapping her hands. "Now, we are going to figure out a way to get revenge on the morons who put us here, right?"

"I think you've been around Fred and George too much," Ron commented.

Neville chuckled. "No such thing."

"I'm glad the Trace doesn't work in Azkaban," Hermione commented.

"I didn't think of that," Harry said.

Luna just smiled and let Ginny out.

Slightly vindictive, firecracker best friend: check.


"You seem happy," Harry said as Luna put the finishing touches on her new, blue, silver, and bronze room. It was still a cell, but a much prettier one.

"I am happy," Luna sighed, sitting down on the lumpy mattress and admiring her handiwork. "They may be sending Wrackspurts after us, and Minister Fudge does have his army of Heliopaths – but I have five friends, a castle all to ourselves, some magic, and lots of time to defeat Lord Voldemort. It isn't perfect," she continued, turning around to Harry, "But it's enough to make me happy."