Ron wasn't awake when Hermione went to visit him the next morning but he did look much better, the hand he'd been favouring was much cleaner and looked better wrapped in clean white bandages. Madame Pomfrey informed her that he was on a heavy dosage of sleeping draughts to try and get over the fever.
When Hermione arrived back at their private quarters, she found Grindelwald asleep over their research. She realised that he was topless – a huge burn scored from his shoulder to his hip down his back. A vial of burn ointment served as a paperweight on one of the scrolls, which explained why he wasn't wearing his customary shirt and three piece suit. She couldn't help but notice as she approached him that he was leanly muscular in the way she assumed Harry would mature to become.
She stoppered the vial and laid a blanket over him, banked up the fire and pulled the list of selectives and connectives towards her. They'd split the workload between them by now – Hermione's job was to come up with changes and intergrate the runes into the diagram, then Gellert would review it in detail, making sure that the changes didn't accidently interact with others in the spell.
They had yet to find a combination that they could guarantee worked, so they would keep going until they had.
It was during this time that Hermione realised that the document the Grindelwald was asleep over was not in fact something to do with the horcrux. Instead, it looked like the plans for Nurmengard. Interested, she levitated the sleeping wizard slightly and slipped the document out. The moment Grindelwald wasn't touching it, the writing faded. Hastily, she levitated his hand and slipped the map back underneath. The spidery lines reappeared.
She bent over them, quickly recognising the floors she had been to but surprised by a lot of their locations. The ward room was actually recessed back into the cliff behind the fortress, the corridor and staircase one used to access it were actually burrowing into solid rock. She's been correct that the living room was at the top of the slit in the front face, she hadn't realised that there was a balcony running the entire front face at this level.
She also hadn't realised how many defences there were beyond the wards. Of course the walls were thick but the rock was coated in manticore blood which gave it the unusual protective property of absorbing the energy of most spells. It also explained the ominous colouring of the exterior face as manticore blood dried to black. More medieval defence mechanisms, enhanced by magic, protected the entryway. Potions could be tipped out of holes in the ceiling above the entryway and down the first corridor to the staircase.
The first couple of floors had a number of checkpoints where one could shut a dragon hide backed door and create another defensive line, similar to the bulkheads on a ship. The unoccupied rooms on the lowest floors would be the first lost – storerooms, 'experiment rooms' as they were called, the duelling room and the potions laboratory (which could be rigged so that the more volatile ingredients exploded if anyone unwary entered.)
The prisons would be lost next, as well as the wardroom, which made sense because the wards would already be down by the time intruders got that far. Next to go would be the accommodation, but there was an assembly room further up, so she assumed they would already have been evacuated.
The final frontier as it were would be the assembly room (which she now realised was the auditorium). The heavy stone doors could be shut and barred, then a note underlined several times informed her that the carpets in the corridor were flammable.
She wondered if there were any other wizarding houses this well defended. Of course, it still checked all the boxes of a fine home with a ball room and library, a kitchen and enough accommodation to never leave anybody wanting but she supposed it was the only one built in wartime. Every other stately home, as she had discovered with Malfoy Manor, was relatively simple to take.
As engrossed as she was in the plans, Hermione was confused when the lines suddenly began to fade. She looked up to see Grindelwald had shifted his hand to stretch as he woke up. He winced as the scab across his back split and brought his arms down hurriedly, then noticed her and began to apologise profusely for his state of undress.
She laughed, telling him that propriety had changed and that it was now quite normal for men to be topless on warm days. The dark wizard didn't seem to believe her because he jumped to his feet and rushed to his room, returning a couple of minutes later with a fresh shirt and a necktie. He saw the document that she had been looking at and spread it out on the table again.
'I was thinking, we have so many people here now that they have to share rooms.' He began, pulling out a note in Harry's writing that listed the number of people in the castle. 'There are just over two hundred and twenty people here, but we have room for one hundred and fifty.'
'They won't be here forever.' Hermione reassured him, but Gellert shook his head frantically.
'I did not plan to take twenty five years to occupy wizarding Europe. Nothing goes as planned. No, I must make the top four floors of the prison into accommodation.' He concluded, tapping the aforementioned floors. 'How is your friend recovering? Ron?' He asked suddenly, catching Hermione off guard.
'He's resting, sleeping off a fever from an infected cut on his hand.' She answered, startled by his look of confusion.
'The medi-witch didn't remove the limb yet?' He asked in surprise.
'Why would she?' Hermione snapped.
'I saw him in my visions. I always see when I sleep, he was recovering from a manducarus curse.' He told her sincerely, worry creasing his brow. 'Hurry then, we must tell the medi-witch before it is too late.' Grindelwald said, jumping to his feet and tucking his shirt in.
They hurried through the deserted upper levels, it seemed most people were happy to remain in the living areas and not explore further than necessary. They burst into the infirmary and discovered that Madam Pomfrey and Andromeda were giving their patients a lunch time dosage. Hermione waved them over frantically and both witches put down what they were doing immediately to hurry over.
Grindelwald had already found Ron's bed and was busy unwinding the bandages around the sleeping boy's hand. A putrid smell filled the room as he unwound the last one, banishing it with a grimace. Ron whimpered, feeling the pain even through the potions.
'He has an infection.' Andromeda explained, an annoyed look on her face.
'No,' Grindelwald simply said, turning Ron's hand over with his own. 'Manducarus curse. It eats the bones, spreading from the point of injury. There's no counter curse.' He said, looking at the two medi-witches meaningfully. They understood, because they both shared a solemn look.
'Are you certain?' Andromeda asked.
'I am a seer, I saw him recovering from it.' He pulled out his wand and drew a long incision across the palm of Ron's hand. The skin and muscle split open underneath as if sliced open by a scalpel, Ron cried out in his sleep and both Andromeda and Madam Pomfrey leapt forwards with exclamations. Andromeda grabbed a painless potion and poured it down her patients throat before he could go any further. Grindelwald just shrugged as if he considered that to be an unnecessary addition to the process.
'I am a dark wizard, not a healer.' He said innocently as both medi-witches glared at him. He used his wand to lift out one of the delicate bones from his hand. He cleaned off the tiny white chip and handed it to Madam Pomfrey. She was silent for a couple of seconds as she examined it, then passed it to Andromeda with a grim expression. Finally they nodded and turned back to Grindelwald.
'How far has it spread?' Madam Pomfrey asked, rolling up her sleeves. Hermione swallowed and bolted from the room.