Hy everyone! Merry Christmas! (yes, christmas is aaaaaall december don't start me on this. It snowed here in Paris I'm like a five y-o since then).

This is the last chapter until January, as my beta is going on holidays. Don't worry! I'll post twice as many after that for I will not stop writing! I think in the meantime I'll update at least one chapter of Black Waves, A Waist, and maybe some one-shots if I find someone to correct them.

I'm still not sure for the final pairings here, so let me hear your ideas! (actually any comment are welcome, of course!)

I hope you will enjoy this chapter!

Warning: - time-related homophobia ( here it's more implied than anything). I do not have the opinion of all my characters, and strongly condemn any form of homophobia in any possible situation. But well, the 30's weren't known to be open-minded.

- Use of recreative drugs and addiction

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Chapter 4: Interests

Harry was laying on his bed, arms crossed on his chest, staring at the ceiling. Nobody had seen Grindelwald leaving the party, but Harry knew.

So this place was already a prison. He doubted that the Dark Lord would leave his own welcoming party in order to simply scowl at one of his subordinates. Harry would have like to ignore it, but the knowledge that someone was in one of the man's cells was almost physically burning.

He needed to know who was this Mister Graves and how to get out of here. But, for that, he needed to be sure that the kid was alright. Which meant to know exactly where the kid was, where the cells were and in a more general matter, where all of them were, because his only clues were: the cold, the fact that they were still in Europe and the bloody sea.

He was obviously going to do something incredibly brave and frighteningly stupid. Maybe the man knew how to get out of here, without apparition, or knew a place to apparate close enough of here…

He had escaped from Azkaban, he could escape from here. He just hoped that he wouldn't have to blow the place up in the process. Actually, he wouldn't try to get out if it was a risk. It appeared to him that the civilians were here as much as refugees as a shield against attacks. Who would bomb a place full of children?

A lot of people, provided his mind, but he ignored it. He sat under the window and closed his eyes. He had to keep himself focused. He started counting. One, two three…

A breath.

Four, five, six…

Slow, slow rising of the chest.

Seven, eight, nine…

…

...

"I didn't know the floor was that comfortable."

Harry opened his eyes to find Grindelwald watching him from the door.

"You'd be surprised." He answered sarcastically. "Do you often invite yourself in your guest's room?"

"Only when the guest is interesting," Grindelwald answered, making Harry cringe internally. He hoped the man had misinterpreted his reaction, but there was no way he could know. He wished he would have studied a bit more the figure of Grindelwald. All he really knew was 'dangerous manipulative Hitler-like', to quote Ron in one of his finest days. But the young man clearly wasn't the most objective of the lot, even if he had all the information at hand. The thought of his friend sent a pang in his chest.

All he knew was that the man who looked like to be in his forties had the body language of a teenager, a cocky one at that. It was quite.. unsettling.

It was the early morning, and some music could still be heard, even if it was clearly more iffy than anything. Harry hadn't stayed long at the party, just enough to grab something to eat, disgusted by the knowledge of where he was. He had been relieved when Anastasia had asked him to escort her to the living area (he suspected that it was the polite way to do the other way around). He wasn't surprised that the young woman seemed to feel quite safe in the place, as far as what he had seen, any ungentlemanly behaviour wasn't taken lightly. He figured that having so many desperate people in the same place lead to some strict ruling, that Grindelwald was only too keen to provide.

The golden sun rays were illuminating his room, and the smell of the sea was soothing. The more Harry stayed in the place, the harder it was to imagine that it would be the epicenter of a war in the next few years.

Grindelwald held a hand out to help Harry to his feet, and as much as Harry didn't want to take it, he strengthened his will to go along and let the man help him. Harry had to play along as if he was one of his followers. It was a huge blow for his pride, but safer for everyone. As far as Harry knew, there were two people plus himself to get out of here, he couldn't act as if he was the only one in line. His own life wasn't what mattered anymore.

However, he tensed when he felt very distinctly Grindelwald's fingers on the ring. He took a great care not to look down at his hand, but Harry couldn't refrain the other one to go for his wand, even without getting it out. He wondered if the man would try to steal it - if he had a guess as to what it really was. Not that it would do Grindelwald much good, but still...

Grindelwald quickly let go of his hand and turned around, motioning for Harry to follow him.

"I assume that you are, or were a soldier?" Grindelwald asked while leading his guest with large commanding steps that could have rivaled Snape's.

"What gave me away, is it the outfit or the general everything?"

The man chuckled, passing a hand through his blond locks to get it out of his sight. His curls were well-shaped and his hair looked like silk - but it was impossible to say if it was out of vainess or completely natural. Harry didn't stop to think about from where these questions were coming from.

"I'd say the general everything. But you're too young to have been able to participate in the Great War."

Harry did a quick calculation in his head. He would have been ten at the end of the first world war - if that was indeed what Grindelwald was referring to. There was no point in pretending that he wasn't a veteran, but he could avoid precise questions on fronts and battalions by going along with this. After a few seconds of silence, he answered.

"I've fought many wars, but I'm not old enough for this one indeed."

The man hummed leading him deeper and deeper into the stronghold. The windows were starting to be rarer, and the lack of natural luminosity was compensated by some pale wizarding lighting which made Harry think of the hospital's neons. The doors too were more modern than what he had seen until then, in plain metal. The corridors were covered with white tiles, giving the whole section an air of abandoned asylum that Harry really didn't like. He felt trapped, but h mostly wondered why he was here, and what was happening in this - obviously restricted- section of the place. He hadn't given Grindelwald much reason to trust him and he wasn't naive enough to think that the man would show him anything dangerous or too illegal and gruesome thing without any proof of loyalty. He mostly made his bet on the fact that Grindelwald wouldn't have the same way to test loyalties than Voldemort. If he had to choose between impersonating one of the man's followers and crucioing some random bloke, he would have to beat a second time the record of Dark-Lord-ass-kicking in record time.

With a little luck, he could prevent the second Dark Lord from becoming a Dark Lord. But that would mean getting quickly out of here. Preventing Riddle's very existence was after all one of the reasons he came back this far - even if apparently Hermione had miscalculated a few years. So, he wasn't here to beat this Dark Lord, but it would do, wouldn't it?

Grindelwald seemed to feel his discomfort, and patted his shoulder in a friendly way, unconsciously worsening the young man's state of mind. "This is the hospital wing. I figured you would want to see the child?"

Ah, he was being thoughtful. Figures. Harry nodded and kept following the host, keeping his mind as far as possible to the idea that they may be under water. Because even if he was under the sea level, he wasn't technically underwater. He wasn't. Nope.

He continued to follow Grindelwald through the corridors until he stopped in front of one of the white doors. "Why do you help me?" asked Harry, concealing his suspicion the best he could.

Grindelwald sighed and tilted his head to the left. "You're… a mystery. And I like to solve mysteries."

Harry felt the alien force at the front of his thoughts, probing delicately, trying to pass undetected. Harry wasn't a good enough occlumens to make him get out, just enough to avoid any sensitive information to pass.

"Good luck with that! It was quite rude by the way. "

"It isn't rude to assure oneself that it is safe to allow a stranger to enter in a place full of unarmed and defenseless people." Shot back the man, straightening his back. Harry hadn't noticed how much taller than him Grindelwald was until now. The Dark Lord managed to look casual and threatening at the same time, and entered into Harry's personal space without care; but the young man refused to back off. However, he avoided looking him in the eyes, knowing quite well that his poor abilities at occlumency wouldn't keep a wizard that powerful at bay for long.

"If that was your goal, you would have used a truth serum, not legilimency." He answered cheekily.

Grindelwald absentmindedly opened the door. He didn't ask where Harry had learned about legilimency- a rare branche of the Dark Art and an even rarer gift, or how he was so sure about the procedure of interrogation of a potentially dangerous stranger, but Harry could almost see his mind at work trying to complete his damn puzzle. Maybe, if he hadn't known Riddle, he wouldn't have noticed the twitch of the eyelid, the simmering in the corner of the mouth. It was actually fascinating to see such a mind at work. It was frightening to know where it was actually going.

The hospital wing was a long and large room with about twenty bed aligned on each wall and a separate room on the back. Some of the bad had their curtains closed, to show that they were occupied. Harry could hear whispers and painful moans, hushed by muffling spells. The room wasn't calming in anyway, like the hospital wing at Hogwarts, nor perfectly clean like St Mungo's, but it had obviously been made for practicality and in a rush, like everything else in the fortress. The lack of windows didn't help.

Nurses passed by pushing small trolleys full of utensils that Harry did not want to imagine the job; if he remembered correctly, muggle medicine was still pretty barbaric in the 1930s, and he suspected that magic care would not be much more evolved.

Harry followed Grindelwald to one of the beds. The kid was there, lying still sound asleep, his dark hair spread around his head like a halo on the white pillow.

They only had to wait a few seconds before a man came to them. Harry almost didn't recognize Nicholov with his white blouse and hair neatly pulled back. He shook his hand with Grindelwald, whispering a "my Lord" before turning towards Harry.

The young man was quite surprised. It was the first time he had heard anyone calling Grindelwald "My Lord", and it had been done with discretion, like a secret. However, considering the smug smile Grindelwald was holding, this modesty wouldn't last long.

"You're the one that found the child?" Harry nodded in silence, observing the small hand laying motionless on the sheets.

A pitch a pink hair was buried under the sheet, a single hand out, still, so small, oh so small…

We did everything we could, I'm sorry Harry…

Grindelwald's voice seemed hollow"... in a clearing of the Black Forest, hidden under a thestral…"

… silver bullets… listen, Harry…

"Harry?"

Pushing everything at the back of his mind and burying it in the Darkest pit of his memories, Harry snapped out of his trance. "Yes?"

"You did a first inspection on the kid?" asked Nikolov, frowning.

"Yes, I did. I could detect no external wound, no bleeding. My first thought was a bullet, but I found nothing. I checked for broken bones in the most exposed area and concussion, but he was clean. However, the presence of the thestral and the depleting of his core suggested a fatal injury, or at least something life threatening." He exposited.

The healer seemed pleased by his method and nodded in approval. "Did you have a healer formation?"

"I learned on the field, Sir."

If Harry wasn't sure he had Nicolov's respect before, he did now. "You did well. We had to make you wait to check on the most common virus, but the child is clear there too, so-"

"Well, gentlemen." Cut Grindelwald. "It's not that all of this isn't utterly fascinating, but I must get going. Nicholov, if you need me I'll be down there." He gave them a smile to rival with Gilderoy Lockhart's and went out quickly, his long coat flying around him.

"Don't worry, he's always like that," growled Nicholov, obviously quite put out by that behaviour. "So… oh yes. We don't really know what caused the coma, but I'm going for a trauma related sleep."

"You mean that it's psychological?"

"Something like that. These theories on the childhood trauma and the way these little mind work are quite new, I know, but it's the best explanation I have from what we know. Some arse hurt the kiddo, which put himself in some sort of healing stage. "

Harry nodded. "Yes, I've seen that type of thing before. It's not that unusual…"

"Considering that he is a magicheskiy rebenok… mhm… a child of magic?"

"A magical child." Corrected Harry helpfully.

"Yes, well we might imagine that he was wounded in his flesh but that his core depleted with the effort he had to make to heal."

"So you're telling me that it's internal or external trauma." Harry sighed as the man nodded. "There must be something we can do!"

"Wait for him to wake up."

Harry closed his eyes in denial, but he knew the healer was right. He cursed under his breath. It was only when he looked up that he noticed the look Nicholov was giving him.

"What?"

"Parsel'taun!" He whispered in fear - or awe, Harry couldn't quite tell. He didn't understand the language - was it Russian?- but he knew the Parselmouth word when he heard it. It took all of his control not to swear again, and more soundly at that.

He had one day wondered if his… ability provoked the same reaction out of England, he now had his answer.

He looked warily at Nicholov, his hand slowly lowering towards his wand, just in case. he knew he had only one move to make for the cape to fall from its hiding place. Nicholov rose his hand in the universal sign of 'I mean no harm'. Harry didn't let his guard down anyway.

"It is… an honor to meet a descendant of Slytherin in person. Be assured that I will not hurt you upon your gift." He said uncharacteristically polite.

Harry nodded, taking the truce for what it was. "I'm afraid not everybody will react like that. Can you keep it for yourself, please?"

"Da. But you'll have to avoid using it in front of people if you don't want to be found out." He said, almost smiling.

Harry chuckled, but his mind was concentrated on where Grindelwald had gone. He wanted to find Mr. Graves, if only by sheer curiosity, and check out of the place was as clean as it looked. He didn't know who he was kidding, it was obvious that horrible things were happening here, but he had to know what, why, and mostly, how to get out. He needed a plan, and then, not to follow it.

Nicholov kept eying him for a bit, his dark eyes witnessing more than he let on.

"You may want to be careful."

Harry rose a questioning eyebrow. An infinity of possible troubles passed through his mind - from another Troll to the hallows, passing by the fall of his hair due to stress.

"Grindelwald put his eyes on you. You're lucky it's not the hands yet. "

"Wha-"

"You're a handsome powerful young man. I know it's… wrong, but he can't help it. You know how they are! Don't think that he's healing the child for free. Just… be careful, uh?"

Harry swallowed audibly. He hadn't foreseen that. He was so shaken by what the man was implying that he didn't notice the venom in his voice or the strange choice of words.

He wished Nicholov was just kidding, but out of many things, the healer didn't look like one to joke about anything. Now he really didn't know what to do with himself. Maybe the healer was wrong? Yes, he surely was, because Harry wasn't appealing nor anything and he didn't see what a Dark Lord would have wanted to do with him, except to kill him sooner than later anyway. He had only been there two days! He must have misinterpreted things, that's it.

As Harry was digging deeper into denial, Nicholov decided to check up on the kid, and none of them saw Grindelwald come back from whatever he had been doing until said man coughed loudly, startling both of them.

"Don't be so tense my friends! Come on, it's time for lunch." He said with a mocking smile.

And on that, he put his large calloused hand on Harry's shoulder to lead him to the dining hall. As he passed, Nicholov rose an eyebrow as if to say 'told you!'.

The dining hall was even more of a mess than everything else. As he entered, Harry was almost hit by a completely naked, happily running toddler, followed by his panicked mom. He couldn't help but to chuckle when Grindelwald caught the child and tossed it back into his mother's arms with evident ease. The poor woman flushed and thanked him profusely, bowing repetitively, her hair falling everywhere over her shoulders and in front of her face.

Harry's smile fell immediately. He could have hit himself. Instead, he turned his back on the scene, as Grindelwald was speaking to the woman like he owned her, to look at the place. It wasn't different from any dining place that had to feed a massive amount of mouths, especially with the number of children. Many long tables were aligned, with only a few smaller ones for the High-ranked… could they already be called Snatchers? Apparently, the place was divided into sections, to avoid complete chaos. Dishes and plates were being levitated from the kitchens to the room, to land softly in front the people. The place was probably used for something else originally, as the high arches were landing on the floor into heavy plain pillars of dark stone, without a care for comfort or beauty. People had made with what they had under their hands to cheer the place up. Banderoles, colorful flags were pinned on the wall, the Hallow's mark (Harry refused to call it Grindelwald's mark) painted above them. Some slogans were written in many languages, most of them Harry couldn't even fathom. Drawings, pictures and little notes were pinned in a separate place, where people were searching for their loved one, sending messages of comfort, of thanks, selling things, checking the latest quidditch matches.

Once again, Harry wondered how this place had passed from a refuge to a political prison. The answer was probably in the man that was reprimanding the poor woman behind him.

"It's not that messy usually. At first, there were only doctors and soldiers here, but with Saimahan, more and more family are coming for the ritual." explained Nicholov.

"KARKAROV NO LEVITATING THE CHILDREN!" shouted Anastasia, running past them to stop said man. Indeed, joyful kids were now into the food's tray, to the greatest displeasure of their parents.

"I do wish it back like it was before…" wished the healer, eyeing the display with disdain. "But what must be done… must be done."

"Don't mind him, Harry. If he wasn't a healer, he would have been a priest!" exclaimed Grindelwald, motioning them towards an empty table. " Killjoy," he muttered with a wink to the young man.

It was really weird. Harry could feel many eyes on him, and it disturbed him more than it should have. He was used to the public's attention, but at least before he knew why.

As he was walking in the room, silence spread among the guests, in such a way that the sound of the chair against the floor echoed across the room. Harry sat between two men he didn't know, generals, considering the number of medals pinned on their impeccable brown uniforms. They were talking to each other in a language Harry hadn't an idea about, and he was very tempted to speak Parcel to show them how it felt.

After a few minutes, Grindelwald rose again and every head turned towards him. He was literally and figuratively the center of the room. He rose his arms at each of his sides, as if to embarrass each and every person around him.

"My friends!" he exclaimed, his accent making the 'r' rolling beautifully, and Harry already had a weight in his stomach telling him that he wouldn't like what was about to be said. If there wasn't so many kids in the room, he would have tried to out all of the generals and their master, but for now, his hands were tied. "As you may see, I came back from my most recent travel. I know my absence was noticed, but I assure you, it was necessary. Now, I'm here to prepare Saiman with you!"

He paused a few seconds to allow his public to clap with enthusiasm.

"Now, I must tell you that I found a skilled warrior during my little trip…" he added with a hand move towards Harry. The young man was screaming internally that he had nothing to do with the Dark Lord, but it may not have been taken well up here; but he wasn't sure that his patient would last very long. He had never been the one to control himself. The praise and the lack of reaction on his part to said praise earned him dark looks from his tablemates. "But I have also found some frightening news from the muggle world."

With these words, he let his arms drop dramatically and lowered his voice, which still sounded across the room. Harry was sure that if they weren't hung on his every word, the guest would have ghasped. "Indeed, my friends, indeed. In Russia, despite my warnings, Durmstrang's board of governors refuse to act against the illegitimate government that is destroying our kind in the most horrendous way! In Germany, the missed putsch of the squib Hitler, tension is rising like never before. Our kind, our owns brothers are being hunted across Europe, and what do they do? NOTHING! Our children are being murdered and sent to Siberia for the crime of existing, and what does the M.A.C.U.S.A do? NOTHING! and why?"

Grindelwald made a pose, where he took time to judge his audience, turning himself to capture each and every look. "To protect the status of secrecy, a law passed centuries ago!" He made a violent move of his hand as if to throw said law behind him. "I say, it isn't time for politics anymore! I say it's time for action!" His voice was rising again, booming now against the stone walls.

The room busted out in applause, and Harry was now holding the Elder Wand for dear life. Grindelwald's magic was slowly spreading, exciting the crowd even more. The mother he had met before was holding her child on her lap, his little hand in hers, making the obnoxious toddler clap to her master's words. "We know what the muggles are capable of! We know how violent they are, killing us, slaughtering each other for the few resources they have access to in their handicap! They're animals! Who do we want to protect, us? or them? I ask you, my friends, Who do we want to protect?"

"WIZARDS!" exclaimed the crowd, adoring.

Grindelwald was almost swimming in his self-contentedness. He passed his hand through his golden curls, making them shine and looking utterly smug. "AND WHAT WILL WE DO, MY FRIENDS?"

Harry was asking himself the very same question, but he was fairly sure that the answer wouldn't please Grindelwald.

"FIGHT! FIGHT!" answered the crowd. Harry was scowling like never before, his knuckles turning white against the table.

"It's time for us to stop hiding! It's time for us to rise! There will be death, oh yes my friends. Some of us will fall. But it is a sacrifice that I'm willing to make, FOR THE GREATER GOOD!"

"FOR THE GREATER GOOD!"

Harry stood immobile in his chair as everybody around him rose, stunned. A sacrifice that he was willing to make? Were they all insane? How could they buy this shit?

This all was making him sick to his stomach. Grindelwald sat back after a few handshakes and congratulations from his men, and gesture for everyone to eat. He crossed Harry's look and his smug smile faded somewhat.

Harry put his fingers to his scar by reflex before he chastised himself for it. He cast a discreet wandless spell to check his food and passed the rest of the dinner with his nose in his plate, doing everything he could for his anger not to show on his face, failing miserably.

"You know, there's a lot of rumors about you." Said Anastasia with mirth in her eyes.

Harry had decided to help in the hospital wing during the afternoon to keep an eye on the child and to check if any strange wounds appeared. Kitchen and hospitals were the best place to really know what was going on somewhere, muggle and wizard alike. And indeed, under the clean appearances, Harry had seen a few person pass after being crusioed, before they were quickly ushered into another room. "too much stress" diagnosed Nicholov, with a pointed look. Harry was pretty sure he wasn't talking about the victims here. It seemed that Grindelwald wasn't as proficient in his curses as Voldemort had been, and only used them on 'unimportant' people, probably caring to keep his reputation in place. Actually, Harry wouldn't have noticed them if he wasn't on a constant watch.

Of course, his first reaction had been to go to Grindelwald in order to put his fist in the man's head, but he knew better. After a few minutes of deep, calming breath, he had put himself to work again. A little voice which suspiciously sounded like Snape helped him to keep his cool, no matter how much he wanted to use the Elder Wand more with each minute that passed.

Harry also noticed a few containment rooms next to the hospital wing, which actually made sense considering that the Dragonpot hadn't been neutralized yet. The place was quite calm, as Nicholov was mostly working on long-term treatments. Harry was grateful to avoid emergencies, he really wasn't sure how he would react to an emergency situation right now.

He had met Anastasia on his way back to his room, allowing the woman that had been following him more or less discreetly all day to take a rest. He was just relieved not having heard Grindelwald. They had taken a sandwich in the hall and headed back towards the living quarters. They were now sitting in his rooms, quietly sipping tea that Anastasia had brought. Harry had been quite not-so-surprised by the rationing that had been put in place in the fortress, considering. He was just glad for a cup of tea.

"Oh, and what do they say?" He asked almost casually.

"Half of the citadel think that you're a new general. I heard that you killed hundreds of muggles and saved Grindelwald in the process." She tried to hide her grin behind her cup of tea, but he could still see it in her eyes.

"And the other half?"

"Depends. Some think that you're a spy, other that you're a new super trained doctor…some of them are betting on a vampire ambassador, but the tone of the skin doesn't quite match."

"I truly don't know which theory is my favorite. But I'll put my bet on the vampire thing. Don't judge a book by his cover, y'know?"

"Well, you did attract the Lord's attention. He wouldn't have brought you here otherwise. I wonder what's so special about you?" She said to herself, her eyes lost in the void.

"Earth to Anastasia! we have a message!"

"What?"

"You were lost for a moment."

"Yes, yes, but what did you say? It's a strange expression you used! I never heard it before." She looked at him with curiosity.

"It's hum… an expression used a lot in England."

"I've been in England many times, and I never heard it." She said, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes. She wouldn't be fooled so quickly, apparently.

"You seemed to have traveled a lot. How's that?"

Her smile disappeared immediately. He felt a bit guilty to use an obviously touchy subject to change the conversation, but she was far too smart for her own good. He just couldn't let it happen.

"My… my family was quite wealthy…" she whispered, looking at her feet. "I… I have to go!" And on that, she ran out of the room, forgetting to lock it.

If Harry didn't feel so bad at the tears he had seen in her eyes, he would have thanked every god for that oversight. He rose quickly and went to close the door, checking that nobody had seen the mistake.

He waited a few hours for the night to fall, and hide himself under the cape. He was starting to see a pattern in his life.

He felt the cape slip on his skin, as if, ignoring his clothes, it caressed his back in a protective embrace. For a moment, he pressed it against him, taking advantage of the calm it gave him. He could not be safer than under it.

Silent as a shadow, he slipped out of his room - or rather from his half-time cell. He crept through the corridors, leaning against the smurfs to let the soldiers off guard or civilians still awake. To his surprise, there was no curfew, but after all, it was counterproductive to send doctors to bed at a fixed time when they could be allowed to work all night. Harry knew he had to go down. The prisons were very often in the basement, and Grindelwald had hinted that the place where he worked was also there, which could not be a coincidence. Harry remembered that he had been fired from Durmstrang for having experimented too much with the Dark Arts, and this citadel was clearly the perfect place to continue such small projects. Harry shivered. He hoped to be wrong, really.

He had no idea what this man was capable of, but he had a really, really bad feeling about this.

For the first time since he had arrived in this time, he took the Elder Wand in his hand and kept it there. The artifact was almost singing in joy, buzzing in his hand.

He went down the first flight of stairs, passed the hall in the canteen, and went down again. After some false starts, he finally arrived on the floor of the infirmary.

The room was dark, only lit by emergency lights. All the patients were sleeping or were sedated. Harry passed the beds to go to the room at the back. He hoped that a plan of the place - if only in an emergency - would be there. The door was half-opened, and the yellowish light of the infirmary did not enter inside.

He stopped immediately, hearing whispers.

"If you think I'll betray my master for your little shenanigans, Karkarov, let me tell you that ..."

"You do not have a choice, doc, unless you want all your patients to know about your habit, mhm At best, they would throw you out, at worst they would lynch you on the spot. Tell me, dear, when was your last mistake on a patient? "

"Shut up, you little shit! Do you think you're better than me? You have no idea of a third of what I lived!"

"And so as not to lie to you I do not care, he's losing his mind! Close your eyes at Saiman's night, little mudblood, and everything will be fine."

"Fuck you!"

"Well, we'll give you the time to think ... Be quick, Saiman is only in four days ... you never know what can happen in between."

Harry crashed against the wall just in time to not be hit by Karkarov when he came out, followed by two otherhenchman, one of whom was sitting next to Harry in Grindelwald's speech.

Harry remembered very well seeing him applaud enthusiastically.

Always on the alert, Harry suddenly heard a crash inside. He glanced over to see Nikolov hitting a medicine cabinet again and again, until his knuckles bleed and leave marks on the white piece of furniture, insulting all the gods of the earth in all the languages that he knew. Exhausted, he fell down on the chair of his desk, hands shaking. He gazed at them for a second before covering his face and bursting into stifled sobs, his grizzled locks falling in front of his face like a curtain to protect him from the world. When his tremors had calmed down, he wiped his eyes with a shameful sleeve lapel, snorting mockingly. Then he pulled up his sleeve so that he could access the vein of his forearm, opened a drawer with his other hand, and took out a small bottle and a needle.

Harry watched with a morbid fascination as the needle moved into the upright, absorbing the shining liquid slowly until it filled the receptacle with a small, clear sound.

The doctor's eyes dilated and a bitter smile caught his lips as he pulled the needle out of the bottle into a little 'pop'. Nokolov pulled out a piece of cotton with which he would disfigure the place where you could see the blue vein through his skin, then he grabbed a piece of rubber that he attached to his arm in order to cut off the circulation and bring out the vein a little more. His right hand tramped, but he succeeded after a few failed attempts to plant the needle in his arm.

And he pressed until no more than a drop remained in the syringe.

With a quick gesture, he removed the tourniquet before letting himself go into his chair with a satisfied sigh. His eyes went out, staring at the wall in front of him without realizing it, and the muscles in his face relaxed in abject satisfaction.

Harry was flabbergasted. He should have seen the signs - he had worked with this man all afternoon! he was supposed to see this stuff. But no.

He had learned too much in a single minute so he could worry about everything at the same time, but one thing was clear! he had to get out very quickly. First of all because in four days the place would be in real chaos.

And then because in four days it was the day of the dead.

Harry took advantage of the doctor's ... contemplative state to break into the room and look for a map of the place. Unfortunately, he came out empty-handed and decided to explore on his own until he found the prison. Left the door open to escape, as much to allow a maximum of prisoners to do the same.

His heart missed a beat when he passed back in the hospital's wing.

The child's bed was empty.