Was Harry having a bit too much fun? Oh, most definitely. Some would even say 'a bit' was an understatement, really, and Harry wouldn't at all disagree, since he was most definitely taking far too much entertainment simply from the look on Grindelwald's face. Oh, how Harry wished he had access to a pensieve so that he could place this memory within it and treasure it as it ought to be. It was an utter sin not to be able to keep record of this time's greatest Dark Lord's expression upon being summarily knighted by a child as their father.

Harry was therefore admittedly quite disappointed at how quickly Grindelwald regained control of himself, even though such composure wasn't at all unexpected.

Grindelwald let out a small cough that sounded more like a low choke in the back of his throat, pursed his lips to swallow just on the edge of audibility, and directed his gaze quite literally anywhere else but at Harry in the room. The last one was quite the feat, especially since Harry was still firmly held in his arms and tugging impatiently at the lapels of his robes.

"Dada," Harry said again, insistent, delighting in the flash of panic that flared through Grindelwald's eyes.

The man finally dragged his eyes back to Harry and gave him a stilted smile. Harry held back a wince; that expression looked painful, honestly - or pained, rather. "Hadrian," the Dark Lord started hesitantly, giving him a gentle pat on the back, "are you… missing your parents?" he tried.

Harry held back an amused scoff at the near hopeful look in Grindelwald's eyes. The poor sod quite obviously did not expect a side effect of essentially kidnapping Harry under his guardianship to be this, of all things. Of course Harry would not give Grindelwald the reprieve he so desired. Instead, he twisted his features into a pout, lower lip jutting out, eyebrows scrunching, and a thin, black mist wafting off his shoulders as he gave a harsh, pointed tug against the Dark Lord's robes. "Dada," he said firmly, looking directly in the man's wide, heterochrome eyes.

Harry could practically see the frantic calculations being performed in the man's no doubt upturned mind, and he couldn't stop his own brows from raising in surprise as Grindelwald quite suddenly calmed, entire posture relaxing from a tenseness even Harry hadn't realized had been so taut. The Dark Lord sighed, a quiet exhalation of near peace, and softly brushed Harry's hair back from his forehead. "You are right, of course, Hadrian," Grindelwald agreed in a near croon, smiling gently. "I am most honored to be known as your father."

Harry refrained from gaping unseemly at the man by sheer force of will, and, after several seconds, he slowly, inwardly, grinned in unequivocally vicious, astonished delight. Oh, what an absolutely conniving bastard.

Outwardly, Harry's grin was much more innocently elated, and he let out a giggle that was just off the side of manic. Of course he should've known that a master manipulator such as the current Dark Lord himself would find a way to use Harry's admission to his advantage. While Harry was still somewhat miffed about not earning a more extended, floundering reaction from the man earlier, he was pleased enough to see that his own words - or word, more like - would not simply be brushed aside. Things would soon be getting much, much more interesting.

.

Credence was… Credence was panicking.

He could quite easily admit it.

Was this something new, unusual, or strange in any way, shape, or form?

God, no.

But Credence was really, really panicking at the moment, and it was definitely over something of much more consequence than Hadrian having made a mess of himself.

Ohhh yes, this was definitely, unequivocally worse.

A noise that could almost be construed as a broken off laugh - one that was definitely well on the side of hysterical - escaped him as he continued to pace the length of his room, hands winding their way into his knotted hair and tangling themselves into his roots as he tugged harshly, a high pitched hum emanating from the back of his throat.

He was alone, at the moment, only having just left his previous company, and he had far more to think about than he wanted to.

It felt like he'd only just settled into his place here - as much as he could, at least - and now this.

He's been living under Grindelwald's roof for hardly a month, wherein his apparent duties had been bafflingly lax, largely because of some sort of outside upheaval that Grindelwald had been focusing the majority of his attention on. Which in turn meant that Credence had been spending much more time around Hadrian, who, thankfully, had yet to cause any more heart attack inducing scenarios. Strong emphasis on 'yet,' except, of course, for his blasé use of magic and Obscurial form, both of which never failed to send Credence halfway into cardiac arrest.

However, the current issue was, for once, not centered around Hadrian. All the thinking Credence had been doing about the security of his own position? Well, he was considering it again now in order to parse through his mind's workings to determine if he could maybe, possibly consider himself situated just well enough to not be on the razor's edge of a precarious balance in security that he could actually do something and not risk falling utterly out of the Dark Lord's favor.

God, that hardly made sense to Credence himself, and he was the one thinking it.

He gave another harsh tug at his hair, eyes squeezing shut and shoulders hunching closer to his ears.

Why did this have to be happening?

For once - for once - it wasn't his fault, even indirectly! And yet, at the same time, it was exactly his fault exactly indirectly because he was the one who brought her here.

Because that was what this was all about:

Nagini.

His companion, his closest thing to a friend and confidant.

The person who had just admitted to him her plans of escape to be followed through come nightfall.

"Shit," Credence swore, voice pitched high so the word sounded strangled as he whirled around and paced back the other way, quickening his strides.

Part of him wished that she'd never told him - that she just left in the cover of night without him having ever been the wiser. Guilt simmered in him at the thought, but he never claimed he wasn't a coward, and it really would be better for them both if he hadn't been told.

Nagini had finally seemed to have understood that he didn't want to leave, but it was like she thought if she forced the decision on him instead, he'd change his mind.

The ground shook and rumbled lowly underneath him feet as blackened vapor began to seep from his pores, and Credence gave a sharp shake of his head, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a few deep, forcefully evening breaths. After several moments, he squinted an eye open and sighed in tense relief to see that the pitch colored mist was gone.

Alright. He could think things through calmly. He just needed to… calm down. Of course. Because thinking calmly usually required being calm.

Credence sucked in a slow, deep breath, looked up at the ceiling, and exhaled steadily. Calm, yes, he could do calm. Credence Barebones, the epitome of cool and collectedness, the calm doer, the man with an inner monk.

He ignored the swelling urge to sob and bash his head against the wall at the same time. Neither of those were conducive to his new mentality regardless of their seemingly growing appeal.

He desperately needed to think things through. Call him a pessimist if you will, but Credence didn't hold much faith in Nagini being able to escape - with or without him. And it would definitely be without him.

Unfortunately, however, he couldn't find a single way to convince her to stay, to just keep her head down and be satisfied with having some life left to live. He'd tried everything he could think of. Hell, he'd even admitted to her some of his own spineless reasons for wanting to stay, but the look on her face in response… it still stung.

He'd pointed out Hadrian too, and how they'd be leaving him behind with Grindelwald, but that had opened a whole different can of worms with her. She'd pointed out the suspiciousness of Hadrian's existence, and eventually outright claimed that Grindelwald was the most likely to have turned the toddler into an obscurial in the first place. Credence had tried to deny it - he was the one who saw the two interacting, and he had his own thoughts about who Hadrian might be to the Dark Lord that he kept to himself - but she wouldn't listen to him. She thought that Hadrian was just another example of why they had to leave from under the Dark Lord's thumb. Credence didn't tell her how much he was against separating from Hadrian - more than even he himself had expected - but she clearly saw something of it written across his face, as she'd even tried convincing him by saying that they could take Hadrian with them.

Credence had immediately balked at that notion. Even if he went with Nagini - which he wouldn't - the idea of taking Hadrian with them? He was absoultely sure that Grindelwald would track them down either way, but if they took Hadrian too... Credence had not a single doubt in his mind that Grindelwald would hunt them down to the ends of the Earth until he found them and, upon doing so, most likely kill them. Slowly. Credence's mind had helpfully come up with a whole slew of the worst ways possible that the most powerful Dark Lord in recent history might end his pitiful life. He was imaginative like that.

And that was without mentioning what the other side would do with Hadrian should he somehow, by some impossible 'luck,' come into their dubious care. The 'light' side had tried to kill Credence; who was to say that they wouldn't do the same with Hadrian? That was without mentioning other sickening possibilities too. Sure, they might 'cull' Hadrian while hiding behind claims about safety, but they could just as easily decide to experiment on him. Hadrian was an Obscurial, after all, and while that did offer him some protection, he was also just two years old. He wouldn't always be able to defend himself.

Suffice to say, Credence was quick to shoot down that proposal of Nagini's. He wasn't claiming that Grindelwald would never make use of Hadrian and his… condition, but, like every other choice Credence had had to make recently, letting Hadrian stay with the Dark Lord truly seemed to be the lesser of the two evils. At least here, there was a chance the tot wouldn't be treated as an abomination; he might even be treated as... well. No point in voicing his suspicions.

Regardless, all of this was to say that either Nagini would fail to escape (and failure… failure likely wouldn't leave its victims alive, in a place like this), or she would somehow - by some miracle - manage to escape. Either way, that would leave Credence alone to face Grindelwald and the questions he would no doubt have. And if Credence knew about Nagini's plans and hadn't told him…

Credence swallowed thickly, rubbing a hand harshly against his face and dropping into a crouch to wrap his arms around his knees, burying his head in them.

He didn't want to think about what would happen to him. He knew it wouldn't be anything good. He knew it would be an end to the almost peaceful life he'd been allowed to live here thus far. The almost peaceful life that had been better than his entire life before it. Truly, this might mean the end of his life completely. It could mean Hadrian would be forced to take on the role Credence was no doubt being prepared to do, so young and being used as a weapon.

Which meant…

Credence ground his teeth harshly, bitten nails digging into his elbows as he both physically and mentally struggled to hold his body together - to keep it from exploding outwards and destroying everything around him in an eruption of rock shards and splintered wood.

...It meant that Credence had to inform Grindelwald.