Written for Hogwarts assignment 15.

A Study of Languages - Latin: Homenum Revelio - Reveal humans

Word count: 1735.


Gideon rolled up the sleeves of his wizards' robes and tried again, channelling all of his energy into the spell. 'Finite.'

Getting out his Omnioculars, he did a sweep of the forest, even calling his Hippogriff down so that he could fly over the treetops to do a thorough check. There was nothing.

However, he knew that this was where he would be able to find the elusive Morgan le Fey. Powerful a witch as she may be, the Wizard's Council had the means to prevent her from escaping.

Gideon, as Captain of the Hippogriff division, had been called upon for his team's expertise: scouting, tracking, and more often than not, hunting. Morgana had been on the run for many summers now, and last harvest, they had caught sight of here in one of the nearby villages.

They had immediately herded her into the forest, erecting Anti-Apparition Charms and Tripping Jinxes around the borders. Fifty of Gideon's best men patrolled the outskirts in pairs, ensuring that if Morgana were to escape, at least she would not escape unnoticed.

However, the moon had waxed and waned without Gideon catching neither hide nor hair of the elusive Dark witch. The Council was getting impatient, but Gideon knew Morgana by now - he had been tracking her for a while. She would not escape the forest without a dramatic exit to prove her superior spell-casting abilities.

If only there were an easier way to detect her.

But no such spell had been invented yet.

Gideon stopped, drawing up short. No such spell had been invented yet, but that didn't mean that one couldn't be created now.

Immediately, he swung Fleetfoot around, back towards the nearest Lord's castle, and the one person who could help him.


'Father,' Gideon nodded, descending from Fleetfoot's back.

A page immediately threw the Hippogriff a slab of meat, coaxing him into the enlarged stables.

'Gideon,' Merwyn nodded, his hunched back seemingly more crooked than ever.

There was little love lost between Gideon and his father. In fact, Gideon had made sure to separate himself as much as possible from his father's name. "Merwyn the Malicious", they called him, due to his invention of many hexes and curses. Although he was a subject of ridicule, the 28 great wizarding families never failed to consult him on his most recent creations. Even the Council referred to Merwyn when it came to identifying Dark magic cast on Hit Wizards returning from dangerous missions.

And this time, it was Gideon who had come to seek his council. The younger man's palms were sweating at the thought of it.

'The prodigal son returns,' Merwyn leered. He spread out his arms in invitation. 'Come, Gideon. There is a feast in place; you're just in time for the pheasant course.'

'I'm not here to exchange pleasantries, father,' Gideon announced. He was of the opinion that one must get to the point. A Gryffindor trait, if there ever was one, and yet another difference between him and his Ravenclaw father.

'Clearly,' Merwyn replied dryly, huddling back into his robes and leading the way to his research quarters. 'What does the Captain of the guard wish from me now, hmm? Come on boy, I don't have all day.'

'Scout Captain,' Gideon corrected in a whisper, but his father ignored him. How is it that he makes me feel as though I were but a boy? He took a breath, determined not to be intimidated. 'I was tasked with hunting down Morgan le Fey.'

His father perked up at that, as Gideon knew he would. If there was one person Merwyn would willingly share his knowledge with, it would be Morgan le Fey, widely known for her work in Healing. Oh, how his father would love to get his hands on her brain.

'I have cornered her in a forest,' Gideon continued. 'But she has proven to be too elusive. The Wizard's Council grows weary, and Morgana could easily live off the game for many moons to come.'

'And so you've come to me to ask for a way to catch her,' Merwyn said patronisingly, filling in the blanks. The corner of his lip curled in derision. 'Really, Gideon, I thought you would have to have some skill to be promoted to Captain.'

'I don't need you to catch her,' Gideon replied defensively. 'Just... I need something to counteract her invisibility. I can do the rest myself.'

'A spell to show a wizard's true form, no matter the cloaking magic...' Merwyn mused. 'I know not if this is possible.'

The gleam of curiosity in the old man's eyes belied his words, and it took only a hint that Gideon would let Merwyn accompany him on his return journey to have the white-haired wizard clearing his desk of all clutter. As Gideon leaned against the only wall not covered in books, Merwyn hunted through tomes and parchment until he found what he was looking for.

'One must never be too careful in the creation of new spells,' Merwyn lectured, the former mockery gone from his voice. 'The incantation must be in Latin, so as to prevent the accidental casting of magic. Now,' he hummed to himself, turning pages. 'Here we are. Anima. The essence of life, of being. No. Too general. You would reveal the very trees themselves. Vivo. Better. Let this be our first attempt.

'What do you wish for this spell to accomplish?' Merwyn suddenly asked his son, pausing in his research.

'To show the witch I hunt,' Gideon said, frustration bleeding into his voice. His brother had always had more patience with his father than he. Perhaps he should have brought Elijah along with him, but it was too late for that now.

Merwyn didn't reply at first, scribbling possible translations down. Gideon listened to the scratching of the quill and tried to remain at ease. There are some things that are not natural, he thought. Gideon couldn't write and could barely read, but his affinity for natural magic and his memory had helped him through Hogwarts.

'Vivo ostendere,' Merwyn said, and Gideon couldn't deny that the words had power. 'Try this, boy, and picture very clearly your intent.'

Gideon took a deep breath, tucking a curl of red hair behind his ear. His feet moved unconsciously into the stance of a dueller, as he imagined Morgana's raven locks swirling in the wind, her high, mocking laugh as she told him exactly where he went wrong in his hunt.

'Vivo ostendere!' he cried, yellow smoke bursting from his wand, disseminating into a large oval.

Father and son watched as an image formed in the mist, one that clearly pictured the ageless witch, wand at the ready, legs bent into the crouch of a huntress before she sprang, but nothing else.

'How does that help me know where she is?' Gideon asked, his voice falling in disappointment. The smoke withered into fading tendrils.

'Interesting,' Merwyn said simply. 'The word "show" appears to be too broad. Magic is nothing if not specific. You do not wish for the spell to "show" you Morgana, but to "reveal" her location. Let us try once more, this time with the word revelio. It would translate as "I reveal the living."'

Feeling slightly ridiculous, Gideon pointed his wand at the wall once more, picturing Morgana revealing herself from the void. 'Vivo revelio.'

A slow hum emanated from his wand. At first, Gideon thought that nothing had happened. Then Merwyn made a small noise of surprise, and Gideon noticed that he was glowing with a faint red hue. Looking around, he noticed more red hues through the castle walls, revealing rats, bats, insects and more humans. The more he looked, the dizzier he felt, until the slow hum grew to a roar and he couldn't hear anything else.

Suddenly, Merwyn was shaking him, his mouth moving wordlessly.

Except it wasn't wordlessly, Gideon realised.

'You daft boy, stop channelling your magic! Cut it off, cut it off! You're going to drain yourself dry!' Merwyn's voice came back into focus.

Gideon blinked, taking a step forwards, only to collapse into the chair that Merwyn had moved under his legs.

'How...?' he asked, but his voice came out as a croak. His brain felt sluggish, and he couldn't summon the effort to finish his question.

However, Merwyn understood immediately. 'Spell intoxication, the professors used to call it in my day. Of course, that was back when we were allowed to practice spell invention. Before it was deemed too dangerous to teach. No matter, I believe I can finish this myself. As this adds a certain quality to those it affects, namely revealing themselves to the caster, and feeling the sensation of having been revealed, the spell will fall under the category of a Charm.

'As such, there is the simple matter of tweaking the hand motion upwards, like so,' he demonstrated, 'so as to halt the channelling of energy.'

The gleam was back in Merwyn's eyes as he rolled up his sleeve and pointed his wand at his son. For a wild moment, Gideon thought back to when Merwyn would experiment with his creations on his sons, making sure to perfect the spells before he would call for a Healer.

Instead, Merwyn intoned. 'Vivo revelio.'

Gideon felt a swooping in his stomach that counteracted the adrenaline. It felt slightly like falling off Fleetfoot, something he had done many times before. The thought of Fleetfoot put a smile to his face, though he was having trouble concentrating through his fatigue.

'I see,' Merwyn muttered, looking around, before halting the spell. He didn't seem to notice Gideon's worries, making notes and annotations on his paper.

Gideon looked at him through half-lidded eyes, trying not to drool on his father's papers as he felt himself slide into the realm of sleep. His head swayed with the effort of holding it up. Suddenly, his father glanced up, as though reading Gideon's mind.

'You may stay here for the night,' his father waved towards the cot in the corner of the room. 'I believe the servants will be able to scrounge up a room for myself for one night. In the meantime, let us fine-tune the spell so as to lessen the burden on the senses...'

Gideon had already stopped listening. As he collapsed on the furs, the last thing he heard before oblivion was "Homenum revelio."