The child is screaming, was Gellert's first thought. It came to him in something of an absent discernment, in the way one would note 'it's snowing,' while idly gazing out a lightly frosted window.
That is, until he summarily processed what he'd just heard and bolted upright from his seat, chair screeching backwards in a sound that grated harshly against his ears due to his haste with the sudden, intense rush of adrenaline that flooded through his system in a manner that had his head pounding in time with his pulse, which in turn throbbed resoundingly against his skull.
Because Hadrian was screaming. The sound of it was fading in and out, coming in abrupt bursts of high pitched shrieks that held no pattern Gellert could follow - at least, not in his current state. Not that anything would change if he could find one. A pattern, that is. No, nothing would alter the situation in any drastic way if he could somehow discern what on this Merlin-bloody-be-damned Earth was causing his ward to make such a sound.
He snarled soundlessly. Though, at least if he had some inkling of a clue as to a potential cause for Hadrian's cries - because he could only refer to them as that or the screams that they undeniably were - maybe Gellert would not be so currently swept under a torrent of racing thoughts that were so sickeningly drenched in the cruelest and most horrifying of possible situations imaginable that could be occurring just down the hall where he had so gullibly believed his - his Hadrian to be safe.
The endless possibilities raced through his mind's eye, and his knee banged sharply against the corner of his desk in a sudden stint of incoordination that was completely at odds with his typical self.
He cursed vehemently and rounded the table regardless - before he'd even realized, almost - as his steps thundered against the wooden floor in his rush to the door of his office, which he flung open with abandon. The frame slammed into the connecting wall with a booming crash, the sound of oak splintering doing absolutely nothing to sedate his agitation - his ire.
Yes, ire. For who in Merlin's be bloody well damned hell could have gotten to Hadrian?
Gellert vehemently cursed himself for not having set any wards onto the tot to immediately give notification if any harm or even potential harm came to the boy's person. It was the infantile mistake of a lesser wizard, was what it was. Gellert had always commended himself for carefully maintaining the balance between confidence and arrogance, but it was clear to him now that he must have strayed towards the latter without having consciously realized, as there was no other explanation as to how he could have so blatantly missed an attack set on his ward if not for his own obviously wrongly held belief that Hadrian would be safe simply because he was within the walls of Gellert's heavily fortified, fideliused, unplottable castle.
There was another loud shriek, and Gellert's lips twisted into a snarl as he whipped his wand from its holster and apparated straight into Hadrian's room with a thundering crack.
It took him a moment to process what he was seeing.
First was Vinda Rosier, who was frozen in surprise, a light flush rising to her cheeks from what seemed to be embarrassment. Her presence was not unexpected, as Gellert had approved her to be Hadrian's supervision for the day, since Credence was otherwise occupied - as Gellert had been himself. Despite this awareness of his, he only just managed to stop himself from sending a spell so dark in her direction that the air around his wand had enveloped itself in shadows, and the putrid smell of rotting flesh wafted readily from its surface.
Instead of releasing the spell, however, he took a imperceptible, calming breath, and further analyzed the current situation.
Since Rosier was crouched down, Gellert trailed his eyes from her to the only other presence he'd taken to be in the room:
Hadrian.
The tot, too, looked quite surprised, though whether that be due to Grindelwald's sudden presence or the ear-splitting sound that had announced his arrival was difficult to ascertain. He was sat on the floor and situated to be facing Rosier, his head now turned towards Gellert instead. He was wearing the same clothes Gellert had selected for him that very morning, except his feet -
Gellert's eyes flicked back up to Rosier, whose face had darkened further in hue, features pinched in an expression that on the surface seemed to be sour dismay but in truth was clear mortification as she withdrew the feather from where it'd been hovering over Hadrian's bare foot.
"M- my Lord," she stammered, an action incongruous to her typical behavior as she rose to stand, giving a slight but no less deferential bow. She took several discreet steps away from Hadrian.
Gellert hummed in acknowledgement to her greeting but gave no other indication for how she should proceed. His pulse had calmed back to a normal rhythm, and he smoothly tucked his wand back into its holster.
Rosier swallowed audibly, gaze flickering from Gellert to Hadrian, the latter of whom was staring up at the pair with blatant curiosity.
"I… apologize, my lord, if we have disrupted you," she finally said, surreptitiously tucking the feather away into the hem of her skirt, much like how Gellert had with his wand mere moments before.
Gellert raised a brow. "Oh?" he murmured, tone a silken, near velvet smooth sound. "'We?'" he echoed with a near imperceptible tilt of his head.
Truthfully, he'd already deduced what had been occurring within moments of having apparated into the room - not that it had been a difficult matter to have discerned. Of course, it was not exactly something he had previously contemplated as a possibility - largely due to the fact that, in his admitted… apprehension, he had not considered that a scream from a child could have been from joy, of all things.
Well, if shrieking intermixed with laughter from being tickled with a feather could be considered joy.
Gellert focused himself back towards his subject as Rosier visibly steeled herself, the woman's eyes squeezing shut for only the briefest of moments before she returned her gaze to meet his. "Me, sir," she both corrected and admitted, clasping her hands behind her back in a nervous tick that she likely only allowed herself due to its doubling as an act of respect.
Gellert hummed, shoes tapping mutedly against the plush carpet as he approached Hadrian, smoothly picking the tot up in one swift motion and noticing how Rosier tensed from the corner of his eye.
Hadrian, on the other hand, squealed happily, pudgy little hands coming up to fist at the front of Gellert's cloak, invariably wrinkling the material as the boy tugged and squeezed.
Rosier shifted slightly, and Gellert resisted the urge to click his tongue, idly giving Hadrian a couple of bounces in his arms to settle him, winning a burbling laugh in reply.
Idly, he noted that it was quite clear that Rosier had grown attached to Hadrian - a shockingly large amount, in fact, both considering that Gellert didn't make it a habit of leaving his ward in her or anyone else's care and the fact that Rosier herself tended to be rather emotionless and coldblooded, regardless of the situation.
She was a loyal follower and one he trusted to not attempt to break his strict commands, but she was a brisk and often icy woman nonetheless.
Yet here she was, having made a game of making the tot laugh in 'tickled' delight, and now looking at her own lord with the barest signs of unease hidden within the depths of her gaze as it flickered between himself and his ward.
Hm. It would seem that Hadrian truly did have a considerable effect on people, more so than Gellert himself had expected, and certainly in a different regard than what he had been planning to use.
This effect too seemed to be the case on Credence, who never turned down the opportunity to spend time with the tot despite the clear apprehension that lined his features everybtime he so much as stood within the same room as the smaller without someone - Gellert namely - as a buffer between them.
There was Carrow as well, who he'd left Hadrian with on exactly two occasions, and yet the woman had seemed inexplicably and rather exorbitantly saddened to see the tot go during both occurrences. It would have almost been amusing, had it not stirred some foreign, dully throbbing emotion deep within his breast.
Which in turn, of course, had Gellert considering Hadrian's effect on himself, as it was utterly impossible to say that the tot resulted in no changes in his own being considering how much of his life and plans had shifted to incorporate the young boy. It was rather alarming, in a respect, to consider it all, since the coalescence of every bit of his daily routine and overall objectives that had been indubitably affected by the tot's presence was, to put it simply, absolutely astounding.
A matter to contemplate for another time, however.
For now, he turned his attention to Rosier once more, giving a dismissive jerk of his head, and she quickly gave another bow before sweeping from the room, letting the door shut softly behind her.
Hadrian let out a quiet whine, and Gellert tipped his chin down to meet the tot's pouting gaze, raising a pale, manicured brow. "Was she so entertaining?" he questioned the boy, tilting his head to convey his… disfavor, he supposed, at the thought.
Not that he could find much of a reason for such a sentiment.
Guileless, Hadrian's lips parted in a smile that seemed to agree in the positive despite Gellert's apparent distaste, head bobbing happily as he tugged on the man's lapels.
"Her company was… enjoyable?" Gellert asked in confirmation, shifting Hadrian higher up in his arms so his own neck no longer felt like it was on its way to forming a crick from being bent so far forward.
Hadrian's head continued to nod up and down; Gellert had half a mind to wonder if it hadn't stopped from the first prompt.
"Would you rather be in her presence than mine?" he proceeded to query blithely, idly freeing one arm to tap a finger against Hadrian's nose. For no discernible reason at all.
The tot's features scrunched up with the action, eyes crossing to stare at his finger even as it retreated, porcelain face listing to the side as if pondering the question. The boy frowned, tugging again at Gellert's suit, a questioning sound coming from his throat as he tipped his head back to meet Gellert's gaze.
"Well?" Gellert prompted lightly, a casual smirk gracing his lips as he gave Hadrian a few more bounces in his arms. Part of his expression was feigned, but he could admit that he found the boy's own mien to be amusing.
Hadrian's brows furrowed further, lips pursing tight and eyes squinting into crescents as he continued to stare into Gellert's dual colored eyes, looking absurdly deep in thought for someone who had likely been toilet trained for less than six months.
Despite himself, Gellert found he didn't mind the wait, content to observe the minute shifts in Hadrian's facial expressions as the tot worked to solve whatever inexorably difficult problem he was slogging through in his developing little mind.
And it was after more than another minute having passed before his ward - frown still set on his brow but lightened into a look similar to determination rather than the perplexingly deep contemplation it'd been entrenched in before - nodded decisively, released Gellert's cloak, and gave a single, firm pat to Gellert's chest above his heart as he childishly proclaimed, "Dada."
Promptly, a klaxon of wailing sirens blared out through Gellert's utterly blank skull.