"You are to be trained," Voldemort continued as if Adrian understood everything he was saying, "Originally Bellatrix was to be your teacher. Given her absence and your new position, I shall be your teacher."
Lutain tensed, staring at Adrian with resignation.
"You?" Adrian nearly whispered out, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and fascination.
Voldemort stood, glancing back at Adrian with some sort of amusement, "I would not kill something precious to me."
Adrian echoed back the word in a considerably higher pitch, "Precious?"
Voldemort smiled something wicked, and left the room. Adrian could have sworn that his father's eyes glowed.
Adrian hit the ground painfully with a crunching rattle that vibrated through his left shoulder.
The curse soared over his head, leaving him safe for only a moment. Adrian scrambled to his feet, already attempting to run to avoid the next flying spell.
Each spell was lazily flung at him; nothing difficult yet obviously the caster was enjoying himself.
"Incendio," He heard the voice loudly drawl, a pathetic first year spell just to spite him. Adrian yelped as a plume of fire nearly incinerated him, something impossibly strong for a first year spell. Adrian almost doubted that it even was that spell, even as he heard it cast.
"Aguamenti," Adrian gasped out, hacking from the sudden soot in the air. The water collided upwards to snuff out a small portion of the flame. It hissed angrily, erupting in a dark plume of steam
The fire... Adrian couldn't see anything through the inferno. It meant that his attacker wouldn't be able to either.
Adrian's eyesight tunneled and his vision flickered. He swooned, nearly collapsing as his head ached against the painful pressure. He coughed, nearly rolling into the movement which transformed into a dry retch. The ground around him sparked and flared with heat, adding to the stifling temperatures.
"Come on," He breathed exhaustedly, swallowing harshly against bile as his magic fluttered and the flames began to falter, "Come on,"
They grew, dancing around him in a careful circle of fire, concealing him and protecting him in the middle of the blaze.
He released the nauseating pressure, allowing the tongues to lick the floor hungrily; he keeled and braced his arms on his knees for a moment to catch his breath.
"Alright," he whispered under his breath, trying not to cough as he struggled to focus- where had all the spells been coming from?
He pointed his wand in the desired location, and with as much hope and blind luck he could feel at the moment, whispered the spell he had learned from Theo.
"Langlock," He casted, seeing the nearly invisible spell shoot off and counted to three.
The flames lowered like a curtain dropping and Adrian felt himself beam as his father glared at him, tongue glued to the roof of his mouth.
He was too exhausted to laugh but he felt the bubble of hysterical glee press on his chest. He felt winded and exhilarated from finally getting higher ground...
Then he felt winded for real, as the air from his lungs suddenly was yanked out.
Adrian's eyes bulged and he fell to the ground, hands clawing at his throat as he gasped soundlessly. Almost at once, the sensation left; his father waved a contorted hand over his face, silently casting the counter spell.
"You forget that you are not unique in your ability to cast wandless and wordless magic." His father explained calmly, eyes almost flickering in the reflections of the surviving embers decorating the floor.
Adrian grinned silently, "Doesn't mean I didn't get you." He wheezed, his throat burning from the effort.
His father flicked his wand without even looking, accurately sending a minor stinging hex. Adrian yelped and hissed in pain once it hit; his shoulder throbbed mutedly from his botched dive for the ground once the blaze started.
"Why didn't you shield?" his father asked critically, looking him over for major injuries while absentmindedly conjuring two chairs.
"I wanted to dodge, make a distraction instead," Adrian shrugged with one shoulder, already feeling that his tactic was lacking. His father gave a heavy sigh, as if he too had assumed Adrian's strategy would be ridiculous.
Adrian used his forearms to pull himself upwards, clambering over to settle into the conjured chair with a small grimace.
"Evasion is not a reliable tactic," Voldemort scoffed although his tone made it seem that he had repeated that phrase to others often.
Adrian shrugged, keeping his head low and relying on how much his father hated when he stewed.
"That's not the real reason," Voldemort spoke lowly, although not as threateningly as he was well capable of. The man ran one of his long pale hands through his hair, shifting the bluish strands to rest behind his ear.
Adrian checked his shields to assure himself that they were still in tact. He still knew better than to flat out lie to the man, plus it was unlikely he would be cursed for simply not having been taught.
"I can't cast it," Adrian muttered under his breath, admiting the truth although not being especially happy about it.
"Bellatrix never taught me to shield." Adrian elaborated once his Father pulled his hands up to rest them under his chin in a long suffering look of annoyance.
"She likes to have her targets run like headless chickens" Adrian almost smiled at how pinched his father's voice sounded. Obviously he had problems with a similar tactic before, although he still spoke of Adrian's mother figure fondly.
"Then we'll have to teach you. Come."
"What... now?" Adrian gaped, stumbling to his feet whereas his father gracefully rose, "I...I don't know an incantation-"
"I'll show you," Voldemort stared at Adrian as if his child had said something momentously idiotic, which, Adrian considered, he likely had.
"The incantation is protego," his father instructed, drawing his wand before flicking his wand and summoning the whitish shield spell insanely quickly.
"I..." Adrian elegantly articulated around how fat his tongue felt in his mouth. He struggled to recall what he had just seen, as well as what he had heard. After using wandless magic, his head always pounded like there was a Manticore loose in his skull.
"Watch," his father sighed yet repeated the action considerably slower. He didn't seem as irritated as he led on, in fact, Adrian suspected the man actually liked teaching
Voldemort casted the spell once again, performing it in careful slow motion of the actual process. Adrian knew casting any sort of spell in such a slowed state actually was more difficult than normal casting. Of course, if anyone could do it, it would be him.
Once, twice, three times more until he lowered his wand and looked at Adrian expectantly.
"Er..." Adrian stumbled, pulling out his Holly and Phoenix feather wand he used only inside the house and out of public eye.
"Protigo-"
"Pro-Tay-go," his father repeated, nodding for Adrian to continue.
"Protego." Adrian corrected himself, trying to flick his wand in the semi circular movement his father had executed before. It was awkward and jerky in his grasp.
They repeated it for a long period of time, until the pounding in Adrian's head was reaching a crescendo.
His father was actually a very good teacher, Adrian knew he made much more progress than he would have otherwise.
By the time Adrian was panting and bracing his head between his knees protectively and the ground was swirling ever so slightly from his small vantage point, he could summon the barest film of a protective barrier.
A considerable improvement.
He found himself actually looking forward to the next dueling practice.
....
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