Harold smiled maliciously as he stood in front of the large prison.
"Ah... Azkaban," Harold said sweetly. "Sorry to say, but I'm gonna have to break out a certain someone."
Grinning madly, Harold gripped his bazooka as huge red and black wings sprouted out of his back. They spread far and wide, filling the sky.
"Good thing I inherited my father's power," he smirked. "Berwald, let's do this!"
"For the last fucking time, I'm not- ah fuck it."