The white falcon was fast; almost too fast for James and Sirius to chase. It was only through their years of Quidditch and occasional recreational matches were they able to follow her fast banks and sudden unexpected dives. Sirius was suspecting that the bird was doing it just to make their life so much harder.
The two had cast charms to disguise their bodies as they flew over muggle populated towns. Sirius's teeth chattered against the wind chill as they flew towards the more occupied areas of London.
"Ay!" Sirius shouted over the wind, swooping over to fly alongside James although he was careful to keep the gyrfalcon in his eye sights at all times, "who is this kid?"
James grimaced, although it may have been the wind pulling at his lips and cheeks, "No clue, Padfoot!" he shouted over the wind.
The bird seemed to notice the shouting and disapproved of it. She took them on two sudden corkscrews, pulling up at the last moment to avoid smashing into a house.
"Bloody hell..." Sirius swore, twisting to avoid being tangled in a muggle telephone wire, "this bird is mental!"
James nodded, watching as it gave a loud cry of aggression, flapping its wings strongly to ascend once more into the sky.
James pulled out his wand, shaking wobbly on his broom. He double checked the tracing charm, making sure that the tracking charm was still working. He had a feeling he'd be needing a way to follow it once the sun started to set.
Adrian woke with a spasm and an unbecoming whimper slipping past bloodied lips.
"Adrian?" A low calm voice asked.
Adrian tried to open his eyes, wincing as his brain finally began to decipher the signals his body was sending.
Every muscle hurt, they throbbed as if he had undergone a strenuous training exercise without any breaks. His heartbeat raced in his ears, the roar of blood just slightly louder than the irritating whistle that didn't seem ready to fade anytime soon.
"What..." Adrian coughed, instinctively curling and arching against the padding of his bed. His throat was on fire.
"Don't talk," idiot, went unsaid. His father trailed one hand over Adrian's face, tracing invisible patterns over his skin, "You entered a near seizure state. I detected no brain injury, however your body has suffered accordingly."
"Oh," Adrian croaked out, ignoring his father's advice completely. His hands and feet were in a near permanent state of tingling, as if they had fallen asleep, "Did it work?"
"It did," There was a pause, "You have sufficient disfiguration."
There was something admittedly sad in the way he said it. Voldemort hadn't wanted to actually do it, it was necessary. Adrian understood that. It was necessary.
"Good to hear," Adrian mumbled, the words sounding slurred together. He tilted his head, pressing his overheating cheek to the cold pillow, "Hedwig?"
"Already left hours ago with your letter. My wards alert me that she is returning to the predetermined location."
Adrian nodded ever so slightly against the pillow, barely conscious. "S'good."
There was a dip on his edge of the bed, just near his hip. A cold hand moved through his hair, pushing his bangs back to feel the skin of his forehead.
"You're warm," his father paused, "I've cast the countercurse for the spell. I can't administer any potions for the sake of our story."
"Bellatrix is a terrible mother," Adrian garbled into his pillow, his mouth twisting into an exhausted smile, "the worst."
"Oh absolutely," His father agreed with a sigh, "Although she has her uses."
Adrian made a unspecific sound of agreement.
He wasn't aware how much longer it was, but the next time he was completely lucid he was able to open his eyes.
The room was dark, illuminated by tasteful blue lights set in glass lamps. His bedroom was the same, although there was a suspicious lack of Lutain.
He moved, wincing as his entire body protested at the movement. Tears spilled from the corners of his eyes, over his cheeks which stung against the salt.
He moved his arm painstakingly slowly- blinking hurriedly to try and force his eyes to focus faster. It wasn't his imagination, feathery patterns of darker skin trailed down his arm towards his palm in an almost delicate pattern.
The door opened, throwing brighter white light into the dim room. Adrian winced and closed his eyes as it assaulted his senses and brought his migraine to the forefront of his mind.
"I was able to treat your muscle exhaustion, although it is only temporary," His father spoke, sliding into the seat set up next to his bed. His pale skin looked archaic in the blue lighting, "Such spells can easily be dismissed as your own instinctive magic."
Red eyes watched carefully as Adrian shakily lifted his hand to his face, feeling the smooth skin questioningly, "What does it..."
"Increased levels of energy always seek to return to the Earth," Voldemort started, red eyes looking violet as they were engulfed by the slit pupil, "The scars across your body resemble that of lightning strikes."
Adrian almost frowned, "Like my one…?"
....
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