- Call Steven. Only discreetly. And tell Agatha that he'll sleep with you. I'll go to her later.
Barny nodded eagerly and ran out of the room. Miko set up copper censers, casting a spell on the doors and windows earlier, so that smoke and smell and sound wouldn't escape.
The monotonous voice murmured incantations, a wand conjuring silk lines, calligraphed with ancient formulas. She needed to quickly revive in mind all her knowledge about this specific curse. She read about it during her school and practice years. But never encountered one. Not in such advanced form. He was like to be alive. What strength was needed to survive that? She had no idea.
Barnaba returned with Steven. Myra's husband cursed, seeing the Auror's bloody face. Miko waved her wand again, making the man's suit disappear, leaving him only the bottom of his underwear.
- Tie him tight to the frame. Besides, you'll have to keep him still so he doesn't break the ropes. Even if that means that you have to break his limbs.
The men nodded their heads together and did as she asked for, positioning themselves on opposite sides of the bed. Miko sat next to Percival and painted a pattern with dragon's blood in the place of his heart, which under the pale skin was visible as a black mass with branches of veins.
She put her wand to his temple and whispered a spell. The echo of the curse resonated through the bright wood, to her fingers, arm and heart. She moved away quickly, standing with the copper bowl in her hand and began to spell. She sang formulas for a long time with a loud voice, but nothing happened. Barny couldn't feel his hands anymore, pinning the left arm and leg of his brother-in-law. Steven looked at him questioningly, but he nodded, silently reassuring him that everything was all right. There was silence. For a moment, Barnaba had the impression that the scorpion tattoo was moving. And then something buckled the inert body, tensing the ropes. The man looked like he was possessed. Both helpers tried to hold him by the bed. His face was covered with fresh blood, but this time it flowed not only from his nose and mouth, but also from wide-open eyes and ears. With every drop, the black heart was less and less visible. When the burgundy spots reached the men's hands, the Auror's chest was normal again. Pale skin and scars on it. He stopped throwing himself, losing conscious.
Miko sat on the floor, breathing heavily. It felt like a curse was drawn from her. Barnaba came to her, embracing her tightly. He found her gold-lit eyes and kissed her trembling lips. He was her anchor.
- All right?
- Yes. For him it's unfortunately not the end. I've only got physical effects. I repudiated death. He will have to break his mind free. We have to burn everything from this bed.
- I'll take care of it. Go to bed.
- Let incense and candles burn. He'll sleep calmer.
Graves' bedroom was in darkness. Miko silently went inside, trying to feel the creaking boards. From above the pillows rose a tousled, blond head.
- Percy?
- It's me, Miko.
Agatha sat down immediately and switched on the lamp. She looked at the black-haired woman who still had traces of dragon blood on her cheeks. Miko sat next to her, brushing her fair hair from her sweaty face.
- You have a slight fever, you should lie down.
- It's from medicine. What's with him?
- Sleeping like dead man, they've drunk half a barrel of whiskey.
- Miko, I'm not a stupid tinker. Is that a curse?
The woman sighed, gently massaging Agatha's hands with her thumbs. This movement aroused anxiety in former Auror. As if she wanted to calm her down, preparing for the worst.
- He will be fine. It's an ancient curse. I haven't dealt with it for a long time, never alone. Someone like me can only inhibit her physical aspect. But what has been planted in the mind ... Percival will have to face it alone. Whoever cast that curse thought about it carefully. Nobody with a weak heart and mind would have survived that long. But his will to live and fight is insatiable. You don't have to worry, Onēsan.
Agatha smiled and finally felt a little calmer. She lay down, wondering how to discover the source of the curse. Auror's former zeal woke up stronger than ever. The movement in her stomach, however, called her to the ground. Until the child is safe in her arms, she can't take care of that matter. She only hoped that before Grindelwald would attack openly, she would be ready for it.
The morning of December 24th was the first in five months, when Agatha Graves woke up with a light heart and loudly demanding to eat belly. The clock in the kitchen showed six o'clock. The whole house was in darkness and silence.
A woman pulled out her wand and tapped it on the radio. She turned the knob so that the quiet music would surround only her.
Dishes from the dryer flew into the cupboard and the eggs and chives obediently flew from the pantry. After a while, the smell of hot butter and yolks filled the kitchen.
The kettle was whistling softly, and after a moment, to the tasty scent of scrambled eggs came aromatic smell of coffee.
- I would kill for what you're cooking.
- You got up early, Barns.
- You look dazzlingly, little sister. Especially your legs. These pantaloons with lace accentuate your thighs.
- Well, somebody probably didn't get a good night's sleep here talks nonsense.
- I can be slightly drunk Ags. Everything because of your husband.
- I heard that he gave a good show yesterday.
She gave her brother a cup of hot drink and shifted the plate with scrambled eggs in his direction.
- You're an angel.
Slowly, more people began to descend, lured by a smell of breakfast. Hannah embraced her aunt and kissed her. The woman felt warmth in her heart. She looked up at the clouds in the sky. Snowing changed into a small blizzard.
In the window she noticed Percival's reflection. She turned around, hugging her face in the soft material of his pajamas.
- Mom! Mom! It's today?
Two children ran out of the hall, falling into the spacious kitchen. Agatha was sure they weren't at Harold's Lodge. This house was much bigger. She heard happy conversations from the dining room. She released her husband and went towards the voices. Everyone was sitting there, all her closest family. Barnaba tossed up a small, black-haired girl. There were also August, Annie Solice, John Apricot, young lad who had just finished Ilvermorny and joined the Novitiate when she was finishing her Auror's career.
She adjusted the white dress on the growing belly and went to greet the guests which she heard coming. She stopped abruptly, feeling her eyes flood with tears.
- V! Eagle! What are you doing here?!
- We brought you lost ones.
They moved away, letting the tall young man in the olive uniform. His black hair was cut short, his green eyes under his thick black eyebrows looked at her with a smile in them.
- Finally, we meet.
Behind him walked a slim, petite woman in raven-black curls, bunched loosely on her head. The green of her dress emphasized the color of her eyes. A ten-year-old stood at her side, curiously watching the walls and the candelabrum.
- You arranged it here nicely. It is so bright, nice.
- Right? After all, it's our home.
Agatha froze at the sound of a voice from her nightmares. She turned slowly. In front of her, stood in Percival's pajamas and with their children in his arms ... Gellert Grindelwald. One of the children turned his head, revealing multicolored iris.
Percival sat on the bed, torn from a deep sleep. He was completely awake, though a viscous nothingness enfold him a second before. He looked at the curtain through which he could see the light of the day. He stood on the cold boards, wincing. He felt strangely well rested. He didn't remember when he was sleeping so lightly lately. He went into the bathroom and rinsed his face out of habit. Raising to the mirror, he froze. The shape of a heart reflected on his chest, smeared with blood. His hair was stuck with bloody dried-up strangles. What the hell was going on at night? He only remembered that he had talked with Barnaba, that they were drinking and smoking No-Majs cigarettes.
Returning to the room, he took one of the shirts hanging on the chair and put it on, though he barely fit his arms in narrow sleeves. He found some loose pants and pulled them on. He returned to the bathroom, putting his head under the tap in the sink, washing the blood out of his hair. He wiped them quickly and went out into the corridor. The house was quiet, but from the garden came cheers and creaks of snow. There was a pile of plates after breakfast in the kitchen sink. On one of the kitchen countertops stood a mug with the inscription "Mrs. S". Only after seeing it from close up, a man noticed a painted gray tomb amidst the grass with which "s" stood alone. He smiled realizing it was Agatha's mug. He tapped his wand into a cup, heating the rest of the coffee that remained in it.
Eleanor burst into the kitchen, letting in frosty air and a cloud of snow. She ran into Percival walking toward the stairs, spilling coffee. At the last moment he protected her with a spell. She bounced off his legs and dropped to her seat.
- Carefully!
- I run away from the snow monster.
- Ah yes. Should I protect you?
- Yes! Yes! Just dress up or you'll catch a cold. You can't go out in the snow half naked.
Percival ruffled the little girl's hair and scoured the spilled drink. He was about to climb the stairs when a quiet voice spoke behind him.
- You woke up.
Hearing these words, he felt the hair on his neck rise and a shudder runs over his skin ...