"Hadrian," Gellert called, and Harry gave a little puff of a sigh, a few wisps of his soft, silken hair fluttering with his breath.
It'd been a couple of days since he'd been brought to the man's German safe house, where he was given a name only a few short hours thereafter. And, truthfully, he didn't mind his given name much at all; he was well aware that it was the closest thing he'd get to a compromise towards his actual name, not that Gellert knew what Harry's name was. Nevertheless, it wasn't often he got a name much like his original, though he did have a habit of telling people to call him Harry even when the nickname couldn't be considered as a shortage of his actual one by any stretch of the imagination.
This time around had been rather pleasant, with the man letting Harry have a bit of input in the name choosing, cycling through Günter, Helmut, Siegfried, and a few other unmentionables before managing to land on the aforementioned Hadrian, which Harry happily babbled in reply to.
"Hadrian," Gellert called again, and Harry made a questioning noise, turning himself around in his newly acquired crib so he could face the man that was crouched beside it. He received a pleased smile for his efforts, the Dark Lord reaching a finger through the bars of the crib to dot gently against his cheek. "Hello there, little one," he said softly, the moniker already a common tendency of his.
Harry gave a happy gurgle in reply, pushing away the mild annoyance he felt from being poked, albeit lightly. Gellert's eyebrows furrowed minutely, but the expression melted nearly just as quickly as it came.
Even so, Harry had an inkling about the reason behind the man's consternation, and he inwardly sighed.
Damn those parenting books the Dark Lord had read.
Yes, the parenting books. Harry had nearly inhaled the toy he'd been mindlessly gnawing on at the sight of it all: the tremendously powerful and nearly unflappable Dark Lord soberly leafing through a book titled "Baby Steps" with a stack of similarly named reads at his side.
Simply put, Harry had promptly choked on his spit, which at least served to temporarily distract Gellert from his studies to fuss over a red faced, coughing Harry, though not for long enough.
But, yes, because of this, Harry had his suspicions, the most apt being that the man had likely realized Harry should already be able to speak, infants usually beginning to do so as early as just a year old.
Harry, at nearly three, was long past said point.
He was brought back from his musings as the Dark Lord stood, leaning forward over his crib to reach Harry and picking him up with a secure grip below his underarms. Harry clung to the man like a koala as soon as he was close enough to do so, wrapping his short, chubby arms around the man's neck as his bottom was supported by a forearm and his back by a solid hand.
"Would you like to join me in the study," Gellert murmured, already moving towards the room and bouncing Harry lightly as he went.
Harry burbled, resting his cheek against the side of the man's neck and returning to his own contemplations.
He had good reason for not yet speaking, having made that mistake often enough in his first few lives. The fact of the matter was, no matter how much he practiced or tried to articulate himself as would a child, at some point, he would slip up. That didn't tend to end particularly well.
Yes, a couple of his more oblivious and… admittedly not the brightest parents merely assumed Harry was a genius and that all clever children were able to speak with the eloquence of a full grown, schooled adult by the age of two.
Most who heard him, however, realized something was very, very wrong.
The less said about those lives, the better.
The point was, Harry wanted to be extra cautious this time around, especially since he was rather looking forward to how things would play out and didn't want to ruin any of the fun.
He'd already decided to stay mostly mute for the next couple of years or so - maybe communicating with short replies of 'yeses' or 'no's' or something of the sort before then - because a five year old speaking with an odd bit of eloquence was much less dubious than that of age three. Hopefully, Harry could form a positive impression of his abilities by then so it'd only be taken as another eccentricity of his.
Speaking of eccentricities, Harry's form whooshed outwards into a small black cloud, Gellert startling slightly underneath him, this being only the second time Harry had transformed since they'd arrived at the house.
The Obscurus darted ahead of the man and into the office, ignoring the rather sharp call for him to "Wait!" only to stop short half a foot inside.
There was a man there - a man and a woman. The man was tall, though he seemed to have an almost painful looking habit of hunching in on himself, neck craned forwards and spine bent so his shoulders were nearly to his ears. He had a rather dreadful haircut as well.
The woman seemed to be of Asian descent; she wore a form fitting deep blue dress that melded into the tattoos that covered her legs to the point that barely any skin was left blank.
Both of them were staring at him in complete shock, something that verged on horror glazing the young man's eyes.
Gellert rushed in not a moment later, stopping so that Harry was hovering just in front of him, a bit above the level of his chest.
Not exactly sure where they stood with the strangers, Harry decided to remain in his amorphous state, drifting outwards so he expanded in what any reasonable person would construe as a warning.
Gellert stroked a hand against his side, and Harry let himself be settled.
"You- w-was this, what is this?" the young, dark haired man stuttered out, voice a broken whisper and eyes never leaving Harry's Obscurus form.
"There is nothing to fear, Credence," Gellert replied calmingly, tone laced with a silken, soothing quality that made Harry want to roll his eyes at the pure manipulation of it. The woman was clearly of a similar stance, if the way she tensed slightly was anything to go by.
"Nothing to fear?" the man - Credence - echoed, sounding just an edge hysterical as his foot shifted half a step back.
"Hadrian will do you no harm," Gellert contended, and Harry would've scowled at the man if he could. He wasn't wrong, but Harry didn't exactly appreciate him saying it like he knew it for a fact. Even if it was a fact. But that was besides the point.
Seeing that the appeasement didn't have as much of an effect as the Dark Lord probably would've liked, Harry decided to take things into his own hands. He floated slightly above head level to Gellert and swiftly changed back into his human form, immediately dropping towards the ground with a delighted squeal and laughing gleefully when Gellert caught him with a startled curse, swiftly clutching Harry to his chest. He wiggled around until the grip was somewhat loosened, and he let himself be turned to face their guests once more.
Credence's lips were parted in shock, and he was staring at Harry with eyes so wide that the boy felt a faint concern they'd pop right out.
The woman - who he still didn't know the name of - was hardly doing much better.
"Mm?" he hummed, tilting his head at the duo, who continued to do nothing but stare.
Gellert coughed lightly. "Ms. Nagini, if you wouldn't mind leaving us for a moment?" Grindelwald asked the lady, who gave a stilted nod and slipped out past them, the office door quietly clicking shut behind her. The older man waited for a moment longer before fully recentering his gaze on the other. "Credence, I'd like for you to meet my ward, Hadrian," he smoothly introduced, idly sweeping Harry's platinum blonde hair from his forehead, the toddler leaning into the touch.
"Ward," Credence choked out, sounding as if he'd yet to process the term, gaze now centered somewhere to the left of Harry, who was beginning to think that the young man had a bit of a habit of repeating himself.
"Indeed," the Dark Lord said agreeably, then continued with a more gentle air. "As you have seen, young Hadrian is… quite similar to yourself, Credence," he murmured, and Harry had to refrain from jolting in surprise.
Did that mean-?
Credence's brow twitched, hand coming up to hover over his chest before he managed to stop himself. "But… then, how?" he whispered, eyes darting up towards Grindelwald for only a moment before they skittered away.
The older man sighed heavily, moving forwards to round his desk and seat himself on his armchair with Harry easily placed in his lap, and he gestured for Credence to do the same in one of the armchairs across from him.
The youth was quick to comply, seeming to collapse in on himself as he lowered his lanky frame into the plush cushions of the chair.
There was a moment's pause wherein neither man spoke, the air quickly growing heavy in the tense ratcheting silence. Not holding much appreciation for the atmosphere, Harry slapped his hands against the surface of the Dark Lord's desk, feeling a bit guilty when the young man across from them startled heavily at the action.
His plan seemed to have worked, though, Gellert bouncing Harry lightly on his knee and addressing Credence, sounding surprisingly frank.
"There is no need to be concerned, Credence; of this I swear to you. Though Hadrian and yourself have been… afflicted, with the same condition, I can assure you that he has gone through no such suffering since he has come into my care," Gellert expressed, finishing quietly.
Now Harry was confused, eyebrows furrowing slightly as Credence ducked his head, the brief catch of his eyes revealing a flash of shame and… relief? Relief for what? What could he have -
Ah.
Harry's eyes widened before he quickly schooled his features, fiddling mindlessly with an ebony quill that he'd managed to get his pudgy hands on. Having spent so long without meeting another, Harry had nearly forgotten how Obscurials normally formed.
Unlike Harry, who was more or less forced to repress at least the majority of his magic from birth so that he wouldn't, well, explode, thus resulting in the formation of the parasite, any other child who formed the malady tended to do so under… extreme duress.
His expression darkened, and several tufts of the feathers were crumpled in his small fist. How the man was still alive was a wonder, and he looked towards them with a new light.
The fact that the clearly extremely anxious young man had, in a sense, confronted Gellert about possibly abusing Harry despite how it could've led to a precarious situation for himself warmed Harry's chest.
He shifted back to his Obscurus form, brushing aside the bit of impish delight at Gellert's small twitch at the sudden action and ignoring the man's faint sound of admonishment as he sedately drifted towards Credence.
The younger man had stilled completely with his transformation, eyes wide but holding less of the fear from earlier. Although, upon closer inspection, he seemed to have stopped breathing altogether.
Well, that wouldn't do.
Harry closed the remaining gap between them, came to a stop over the man, and changed back just as abruptly as before to land on the other's lap, Credence's arms snapping forward automatically to cradle behind his back so as to prevent him from falling.
Harry smiled brightly, giving a light pat to the young man's hand.
The ravenette stared down at him, gaze tinged with wonder and a faint bit of trepidation, and Harry's smile widened further, large emerald eyes crinkling to crescent moons.
Harry has always wanted an older brother.