Gellert had not planned to spare the woman.
When Credence had slowly, painstakingly informed him of Nagini's plans as if each word he uttered was the equivalent of wrenching one of his own teeth free from his bloodied gums, Gellert truthfully hadn't felt much towards the Maledictus except for a flash of irritation followed by the casual dismissal that often accompanied his perception of a witch or wizard when their existence would soon no longer be a problem.
Even as Credence fell forwards onto his knees in a plaintive, disturbingly pathetic attempt to sway the decision he could likely sense Gellert had already made, the pale blonde's resolve had not flickered.
Tangentially, he had been pleasantly surprised by how well Credence managed to reel in his Obscurus, as only a slight show of the parasite had appeared for a fraction of a moment in the form of pitch black mist wafting over the young man's forearms.
That had been Gellert's only positive sentiment during the course of the utterly one-sided conversation, however. There was simply no reason for him to spare Credence's… friend, especially when the Dark Lord would only receive continual disloyalty and no doubt further attempts of treason from the woman in return.
However, it was then, shortly before he had reached the limits of his patience, that Credence spouted an absurd idea intermixed with his pleas that had finally given the Dark Lord pause.
"She could - you could erase her memories!" Credence blurted in a rush, eyes shining with a panicked, borderline manic fervor. "O-of us - of you, and me, everything - of Hadr-Hadrian - then she wouldn't be a danger a-at all, because she wouldn't remember anything," Credence emphasized, both an epiphany and a plea. Where the boy had learned of Obliviation was a wonder; though, perhaps he simply believed it possible in the way most muggles believed magic brought fantasy to life. He wasn't wrong, in this case, even as he prattled on. "S-sir... sh-she wouldn't have anything to tell anyone, then. I - p-please, sir - N-Nagini, she... she'd cared for me, before you fou - saved me; I -" here he seemed to falter, head bowed low enough that Gellert had full view of the cropped, damp hairs at the back of his neck. The muscles there pulled taut, and Credence choked out, "I swear to you, this shall be th-the only thing I ever ask -"
Gellert raised a hand, and Credence's jaw clicked shut as if he'd been spelled to do so. Sweat beaded against the young man's brow, and the unnatural curve of his spine and neck coupled with his position on his knees along with his hands clasped together in front of his heaving chest made it appear as though he was attempting a grotesquely malformed attempt at fervent prayer.
Truthfully, even before Credence's final beg for mercy on the woman, Gellert may have decided to take consideration of the boy's words, if only outwardly. It would serve him well to refresh the bond between himself and the Obscurial by 'fulfilling' this wish of his, even if with an empty promise. Between dealing with MACUSA's recent stint alongside the DMLE on top of having to care for his... Hadrian, Gellert had been remiss in his duties as Credence's 'mentor.' As such, it would hardly be difficult to put on a show for the boy by allowing the Maledictus to 'leave,' only to discreetly have Rosier or Carrow follow her out and kill her.
However, Credence's prattling over Obliviating the girl had given the Dark Lord pause. Oh, no, Gellert wouldn't have simply decided to free her even if he eradicated her memories of every single interaction between herself and Credence, Grindelwald, and Hadrian - he did not suffer fools nor traitors, after all- but there was another possibility somewhere between the two extremes, one which gave the girl actual use to him.
He would not let her live with her memories, nor would he let her live without. Allowing her to keep a select few, however…
Yes, that would work quite well for him indeed.
"I must apologize to you, Credence," Gellert abruptly said, causing the young man's head to snap up uncomfortably as a painfully obvious mixture of hope and fear warred within his dark eyes. "I had… forgotten, of the bond you and Ms. Nagini had held before your arrival here," he continued on. Here, he paused once more, allowing his features to soften into an expression closer to what he would give Hadrian, and he smoothly dipped his voice into a silky, indulgent tone laden in false warmth. "You show promise, Credence, to have determined this way in which both we and your previous companion can separate without risking harm to either of our parties," he gently praised, clinically observing the dull, hesitantly pleased flush that rose against the boy's perpetually pale cheeks.
"Th-thank you, sir," Credence breathed, once more bowing his head.
"None of that now," Gellert replied briskly, discreetly shrugging his shoulders as if he was letting his previous facade drop like a particularly uncomfortable second skin. He motioned for the young man before him to rise. "I shall have Rosier fetch Ms. Nagini."
.
Harry was bored.
He stared narrow-eyed at Carrow, who gave him a wavering, stressed smile.
He knew it wasn't exactly fair to subject the poor woman to his ire simply because she was the only person in the room to direct it towards, but it simply wasn't fair.
Despite Grindelwald's claim that he'd accepted the role of being Harry's father, Harry hadn't seen hide nor hair of the man since then.
Admittedly, it'd only been half a day, but still. Harry had managed to rouse an unprecedented level of excitement within himself on the premise of being able to mess with this time's greatest Dark Lord, and here the man was ruining his fun, foisting him off on the next available person to run off like the coward Harry now knew the man was.
"Dada," he muttered petulantly, crossing his arms.
Carrow audibly choked, and Harry snapped his head up to look at her, a bit wide-eyed. Whoops. He hadn't meant to oust that tidbit of information just yet. Too late now, he supposed. His lips quirked up before he forced them back down, and he scrunched his nose and willed tears to well up in his emerald-green doe eyes. Might as well make the best of it, he decided. Someone ought to entertain him, after all.
"Dada," he repeated, sniffling weakly and clutching at his buttery soft infant's sweater (honestly, adult wear wasn't nearly half as comfortable as those for children - it was a travesty). He glanced at Carrow through the fine wisps of his pale hair that'd fallen into his eyes.
Ah, who would've suspected that Gellert Grindelwald's right hand woman's notorious spine of steel would fold like a deck of cards in the face of a lone infant's tears and plaintive utterance.
A quiet, cracked whimper escaped the woman's lips, the sound a poor attempt at consoling - though whether she was attempting to console herself or Harry was up for dispute. She crouched down in front of him, tucking her long skirt neatly over her calves, and haltingly murmured, "Shhh, it's alright, Hadrian," as she reached a tentative hand out for him.
Harry slapped away the offending appendage with a pathetic pap.
He might as well have viciously savaged Carrow's wrist with a sharpened dagger with how hard she flinched backwards at the action, a harsh gasp of air sucking its way back into her lungs as she reeled.
"Mm-mm," Harry denied her, shaking his head resolutely. His bottom lip jutted out and began to tremble. "Dada," he warbled - quite pitifully, if he did say so himself.
Carrow sat there speechless for several long moments, up until the thick droplets in Harry's eyes threatened to cusp over his bottom lashes and no doubt release a downpour, at which point she hurriedly waved her hands in front of herself with small jerks of motion. "I - I'm sorry, Hadrian, but Lord Grindel - your, ah - G-Gellert is busy at the moment," she practically pleaded, looking far too harried so soon.
Harry again narrowed his eyes at the woman, and he let his tears dry back up with no effort at all. It seemed they wouldn't do him any good. He tsked, the sound odd with how his not fully developed tongue added a lisp to it. Carrow mouth fell open as she gaped uncomprehendingly at him, speechless yet again. Harry was rather fortunate that the woman didn't have any children herself; as it was, the witch would no doubt be unable to determine with surety whether Harry's actions were utterly out of the norm. Ha. The Master of Death inwardly cackled to himself at the thought with perhaps too much fiendish amusement than was warranted.
Despite the temporary distraction, however, Harry had not forgotten his main objective; it would seem that he would just have to find Grindelwald himself.
With not a single moment's hesitation, Harry's form evaporated into the black mist of his Obscurus, and Carrow let out an unholy screech, flailing backwards.
Harry ignored her and flew to the door, easily slipping through the cracks in the seams before solidifying into a cloud once more on the other side. Carrow desperately called out after him, but Harry paid her no mind even as she threw open the room's door and chased after him.
The distance between the two of them quickly grew as Harry floated down the long hall, unmoored by silly human restraints such as gravity. Carrow, on the other hand, had yet to consider removing her heels that were clearly posing a life-threatening risk to her ankles' continued well being. Honestly, the woman supposedly fought in battles alongside Grindelwald himself. What in the world was she doing in heels?
Harry hummed to himself, merrily continuing on his way as he turned the corner into another hallway. Carrow let loose a noise reminiscent of a dying whale.
In all honesty, Harry hadn't a clue where he was going, but he supposed he'd stumble upon the Dark Lord eventually. There were only two possibilities, really: Harry would either find the man, or the man would hear about his disappearance and find him instead. Either option came to the ideal result.
Harry let out an excited trill at the thought, the sound translating through his Obscurus form as a deep, rumbling bass that caused the glass light fixtures overhead to vibrate precariously.
He was a bit surprised to not have run into anyone yet, seeing as to how many rooms he'd passed by - both with doors opened and closed - but Harry supposed he hadn't seen much of anyone at all since his arrival - except for a select few, of course. He belatedly realized that only Gellert and a handful of others must actually live within the castle's walls. The risk of outsiders gaining access to information about the place grew exponentially with every person who had knowledge of it, after all, let alone who lived within the place itself.
In the far distance, Harry could faintly hear Carrow desperately calling for him, and he inwardly winced, feeling a tidge remorseful. Still, it was fortunate for him that only Grindelwald was able to apparate within the castle; it meant that Carrow didn't stand a chance at catching up to him. Harry would be sure to advocate in her favor should Grindelwald attempt to punish the woman for 'losing' him.
Up ahead, far closer than Carrow behind him, Harry could hear the low murmur of voices, and he perked up, the edges of his Obscurus form spiking out for a moment as if he'd been electrocuted before settling back down to its usual, more amorphous form.
It seemed that he had found his prey, and it had company.
Harry let his form sink low to the floor as he crept forward towards the room from which the sounds were emanating from, curiosity piquing as the words being spoken began to filter clearly.
"No!" A woman's voice shouted, followed by a harsh banging noise and a very familiar voice growling, 'Petrificus Totalus.' There was another dull thud and then shuffling, and Harry peeked into the room from under the doorframe.
As far as furnishings went, it was relatively empty except for an opulent, varnished wood desk on the right side along with a single, grand chair behind it. Large windows that spanned practically from the floor to ceiling lined the fair side of the room, the curtains for them a deep, nearly black red and pulled back by coarse, golden ropes. As for the occupants, standing in the center of the room by a bold, grey-brick fireplace were Grindelwald, Credence, and the woman he'd seen once before - Nagini. She was frozen stiff - definitely having been on the receiving end of the curse Harry had heard uttered only moments before - and held upright by Credence, who was at her back and had his arms hooked under her shoulders, looking far worse for wear despite showing no physical signs of harm. Grindelwald had his wand pointed directly at Nagini's face, and he whispered a single, nearly sibilant word as he stared intensely into the woman's wide-open eyes. "Obliviate."
Oh? Harry wondered, his metaphorical eyebrows raising as he slowly, carefully crept fully into the room. He made sure to stick close to the walls, where the slight shadows from the late afternoon light enabled him to pass by relatively undetected.
He was quite sure that Nagini had been close with Credence, for all that Harry didn't interact with the woman himself. Based on the young man's stricken, contorted expression, Harry assumed that had indeed been the case.
Which, of course, made him ponder over what could have possibly caused this particular situation. It seemed unlike Grindelwald to waste his time on Obliviating a woman who - as far as Harry's admittedly somewhat limited knowledge went - was not of any major importance. More to the point, what on Earth could the Dark Lord be Obliviating the woman of?
Grindelwald withdrew his wand, casting a muttered counter-curse to the earlier petrification, causing Nagini to stumble forwards and out from Credence's loose grip as she blinked rapidly.
Grindelwald did not give her a chance to recover. "You will recall only having seen Credence in passing during your capture by the Dark Lord Grindelwald, and you will not remember having seen any other persons of interest excluding a brief sighting of myself," the man uttered with finality, flicking his wand to the right and causing Nagini's body to ragdoll with the motion directly into the unlit fireplace, barely stopping her from colliding with the wall within.
Harry's form puffed out in interest, and he floated a bit closer and off the ground, eyeing Grindelwald and his fabled Elder Wand with piqued curiosity. That had been wordless magic. Harry had known the man was theoretically capable of performing such a feat - especially since the Dark Lord could perform wandless magic on top of it - but it was still somewhat of a shock to observe firsthand again, especially when the man did so using Harry's own future-past wand.
Nagini's eyes darted frantically about the room as she slowly began to come back to herself, her flickering gaze landing on Credence, then Grindelwald, before finally alighting upon... Harry himself.
Ah. Well, that was… less than ideal.
Neither of the other two occupants seemed to have noticed Nagini's staring at a particular spot behind them, as Grindelwald seized a pinch of floo powder from the tin hanging next to the fireplace and reeled his hand back in preparation to toss the ashy substance forth.
In the same moment, the doors to the room were slammed open, and Carrow came barreling through with an incriminating shout of, "HADRIAN!" just as she spotted the Obscurial.
It wasn't dissimilar to watching a train wreck occur in slow motion. Grindelwald's hand flinched forwards, releasing the floo powder into the fireplace at Nagini's feet. Carrow finally tripped over her accursed heels and practically dived onto the carpeted floor. Credence whirled around a fraction of a second before the Dark Lord himself, and the two spotted Harry nearly in sync, their eyes widening with an almost comedic amount of shock and immediate horror. Nagini - with her mouth agape in uncomprehending surprise and burgeoning terror - disappeared in a roar of bright green flames.
Harry twisted himself back into his toddler self, plopping down onto the floor and quickly adorning his most innocent expression, staring guilelessly up at the two men who seemed to be forming gray hairs by the millisecond. Carrow wisely stayed face down on the rug, and there were equal odds between whether she was still conscious or not.
Harry brought his wrist up to his lips and mindlessly began chewing on the edge of his sleeve, smiling gaily at the pair from around the quickly drool-covered fabric.
Oops.