FIC: Abandoned: The Re-Write ~ Harry Potter ~ HPLV/HPTR ~ Mature ~ Chapter 17
Title: Abandoned: The Re-Write
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: M/R
Main Pairing: Harry/Tom, Harry/Voldemort
Side Pairings: Ginny/Theodore Nott, Seamus/Blaise Zabini, past-Ron/Hermione, Hermione/Luna, others
Warnings: SLASH, mentions of child abuse/rape/torture, language, character death, minor Dumbledore bashing, Grey-to-Dark!Harry
Summary: A complete re-write of Abandon: Before the start of his seventh year, Harry Potter is abandoned in London by his muggle family and finds himself befriending Lord Voldemort.
A/N: I tried SO HARD to hate Albus in this chapter, but I just couldn't. It was obnoxious. And a little strange. (I mean, okay. Abandon re-write without Ron bashing is one thing, a re-write without Ron OR Albus bashing? Does that even count as a re-write any more?)
The hippo mention, by the way, was due to my sister's birthday present. I sent her a text asking 'Hippo or bunny?' to help me decide which Pillow Pet I'd get her, and she replied hippo, then wanted to know why I was asking. I said I was trying to fit one of the two into this chapter, so then I had to work in a hippo. Jeebus, this is such a product of its time ^^;
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Chapter Seventeen: Absolutely Mad
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As a general rule, the students reacted to Marcus in the following ways: Gryffindors were immediately suspicious, Slytherins suddenly liked him more, Ravenclaws watched him with a bit more interest, and Hufflepuffs huddled together when he was around. For the most part, the Dark Lord was amused by these reactions, occasionally popping up behind a group of Hufflepuffs and smirking as they scattered, or taking his wand out near some Gryffindors and watching them shift and watch him.
Harry and his friends rolled their eyes or snickered at their schoolmates' reactions. The few times a student called the Defence professor a Death Eater where Harry could hear, he politely corrected them. If the culprit then argued with him or insinuated anything about his sex life with Marcus, he hexed their mouth off and sent them to Madam Pomfrey.
Given the questionable legality of the spell, it came as no surprise on Tuesday morning when Fawkes delivered a note requesting Harry's presence in the Headmaster's office.
"Don't you have class with Brutús this morning?" Nott asked as Harry gathered his things. (One good thing about sitting with Slytherins at breakfast, Harry had found, was that the lower years didn't approach him for a preview of class in the mornings.)
Harry shrugged. "Yes. But he knows Fawkes; he'll know I might be late."
"You sure?" Malfoy wondered, eyeing the Head Table, where Marcus was being distracted by Pomfrey.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure. Pan, Ted, Blaise, I'll see you in Charms."
"Why 'Ted'?" Nott demanded for the fifth time since Sunday evening at dinner, when Harry had first said it.
As he had the past four times, Harry just grinned and gave no response, turning, instead, to the bird on his shoulder as he left the Hall. "How've you been, Fawkes?"
The phoenix preened his feathers for a moment, then set about trying to fix Harry's hair.
"Yeah, you're welcome to try," Harry offered. "But nothing helps, honest."
Fawkes chirped in disbelief and gave a particularly vicious tug to a couple strands of hair, pulling them out.
"Ouch!" Harry gave the bird an irritated look. "Was that necessary? Yeah, okay, maybe I can fix it, but I have no reason to blow that secret before I have to, now do I?" he asked, rubbing his scalp. He was more than capable of using his metamorphing abilities to make his hair behave or fix his eyesight, but he really saw no reason to. After all, as Mad-Eye always said, 'A secret is an advantage,' and Harry was just paranoid enough that he wasn't about to spread any of his secrets around, no matter whose side he was on. "How do you even know about that, anyway?"
Fawkes gave the teen a rather self-satisfied look and Harry got the sense that the phoenix followed the same rules about telling people his secrets.
Harry just rolled his eyes and passed the gargoyle, which had moved aside as he'd approached without the password. Which was good, because Harry didn't actually know the Headmaster's password of the month, for all that he'd been called up by the man himself. He also knew, from Tom, that the password changed on the first Sunday of the month, after the weekly staff meeting.
"Come in, Mr Potter," Dumbledore called from his desk as Harry reached the opened door.
Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise at that, since Dumbledore had never referred to him by his last name before. "You asked to see me, sir?" he replied politely, coming to a stop in front of the over-full desk. Fawkes took the still moment to jump off Harry's shoulder and fly over to his perch next to the desk.
Dumbledore gave the student a severe look. "Please sit," he requested, which Harry did without a word. "Madam Pomfrey tells me that she's been receiving a number of students all with vanished mouths, and they all blame you once she's returned them."
Harry shrugged. "I may have lost my temper a few times," he offered.
The Headmaster's expression didn't lighten. "You're being free with some very questionable spells lately, my boy," he commented.
Harry sighed and slumped in his chair. "If you didn't want me learning anything other than basic spells, you shouldn't have let Alastor train me," he replied tiredly. "What's done is done, however, and he taught me some 'questionable spells'. I know them, so I'm going to use them."
"Harry, utilising magic like the Curse of a Hundred Daggers will just bring you down to Tom's level-"
"So I misunderstood the prophecy?" Harry snapped, sitting forward and ignoring the shocked sounds of the portraits. "I'm not supposed to either kill him or be killed by him?"
"That's not what I meant," Dumbledore chastised him, frowning.
But Harry, who had spent the last two days defending his boyfriend against the rest of the school and the public, was not in the mood for the Headmaster's often cryptic comments about the power of love. "No?" he cut in, voice dripping with sarcasm. "So, what? I should love him to death? Perhaps I shall approach him with some roses and tell him I find his lack of nose endearing. He shall be so shocked that anyone could possibly see him as something more than an ugly monster, that he'll burst into tears at my feet, apologise for all the evil he's done, and the world will be filled with sunshine and rainbows and dancing purple hippopotami."
In the following silence, Harry thought he heard one or two of the portraits muffle a snicker before darting out of their frame.
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "That would be the best course for everyone, I think," he agreed.
"You're absolutely mad," Harry decided, deadpan.
Dumbledore's expression twitched and he reached out to pop a sherbet lemon into his mouth, covering the hint of a smile with his hand.
Harry rolled his eyes and got to his feet. "If that's all, sir?"
Dumbledore sighed and nodded. "Yes, I suppose. Just...try and find a less questionable way of silencing your peers?"
"But this way works so well," Harry said earnestly, eyes wide. "And then I don't have to hunt them down once I'm willing to remove the spell."
The Headmaster wasn't quick enough to hide his smile that time and Harry smirked to let the man know he'd seen it. "Well, yes," the elderly wizard replied, popping another sherbet lemon into his mouth. "Why don't you go down to the hospital wing and see if you can't help Madam Pomfrey in some way, then, since you're sending her so much extra work."
"With my luck, she'll just send me straight to 'my bed' and strap me down."
"Do it when you have a class to get to," Dumbledore suggested, amused. "And since when have you had your own bed in there?"
"About mid-way through third year, I think," Harry decided. "That was about the time she stopped putting other students in it, at any rate." The Headmaster chuckled and Harry rolled his eyes. "I'll go after lunch," he promised.
"Very well."
Harry had his hand on the door knob when the Headmaster called his name again, voice subdued. Harry sighed and glanced back at where the man was holding a flamboyantly pink quill over some form or another. "Sir?"
Dumbledore considered his student with tired eyes. "I don't want to lose you to Tom's sins, my boy," he admitted.
Harry blinked and turned away from the door. "You think I'm going to become the next Voldemort just because I know a few Dark spells? Honestly?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "You could never become a Dark Lord," he offered, "not like Tom did, but if you continue to use Dark magic, I fear you'll lose much of what makes you, you."
"Like what?" Harry had to know.
The Headmaster sighed. "Harry, Tom never had friends in school. There was never anyone he cared about beyond himself. But you have such a great capacity for love and friendship... I don't want to see you lose that."
Harry thought of his friends and how glad he was that they accepted his use of Dark magic. About Tom and how much he loved the Dark Lord, for all that Tom had done him great harm over the years. "I won't," he promised the older wizard, then turned and left.
And, maybe, I can change Tom a bit, too, Harry thought as he rode down the stairs and headed towards what was left of the fifth year Defence class. Maybe I can teach him to love and care for people beyond himself. What is it Dumbledore was always saying? Oh, yeah: Everyone deserves a second chance.
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"How did your meeting with the old fool go?" Parkinson asked as Harry took his seat in the Charms classroom. The rest of his friends were all seated at the tables in the back, looking at him curiously.
"Draco will be so upset you asked without him here," Harry commented drily as he slid into the seat they'd saved for him between Neville and Nott. "And it went fine. I'm ordered to go by the hospital wing after lunch to see if Madam Pomfrey needs any extra help, but that's about it."
"Seriously? He didn't give you a talking to about using questionable magic?" Nott demanded, eyebrows raised.
Harry shrugged. "Other than the usual, 'Dark magic is bad, don't do it,' complaint? Nah, not really. I distracted him with images of me presenting flowers to Voldemort and dancing purple hippos."
The Slytherins all looked at him like he was a bit mad while the Gryffindors just shook their heads, used to his particular brand of twisted humour.
Flitwick called the class to order and set them to learning the Charm of Respect, which would allow them to act polite no matter their feelings towards other people they were conversing with. The next hour was filled with the amusing sight of the four Houses mingling together and chatting about the weather or the newest gossip in the school, despite their usual rivalry and hatred of each other.
When they were done, Flitwick congratulated them all and gave each House fifty points for "an excellent example of how even the worst of enemies can get along."
"I bet he teaches that spell just so he can brag that he got the students to play nice for an hour," Seamus muttered as they filed out of the classroom, all but Dean and Neville heading towards the dungeon. Parkinson didn't have Potions next, either, but she'd already mentioned an intention to work on some things back in her own common room, so decided to tag along with the others.
"The points are nice, I suppose," Blaise pointed out.
"Sure, but everyone got the same amount," Nott complained. "He should have given each student ten points or so. That would have been more fair."
"Depends on what you mean by 'fair'," Hermione cut in, scowling.
"Only the Hufflepuffs would have received anything out of such a practise," Harry commented, rolling his eyes at the lot of them. "The rest of the Houses have seven students in that class, but the Hufflepuffs have eight."
"There, see," Parkinson said, giving Nott an amused look. "Did you want the little dirt diggers to get extra points?"
"But I'm sure sometimes the Slytherins outnumber the other Houses," Nott replied.
"And sometimes the Gryffindors or the Ravenclaws will be more numerous," Blaise commented. "Giving everyone the same amount of points is fair. Now, both of you, shut up. Honestly."
"But-" Nott tried, frowning.
"Ah! Shut up," Blaise insisted.
Parkinson snorted and waved one hand before breaking away from the main group so she could continue to her dorm.
Malfoy was waiting for them in the classroom and immediately tugged Harry down to sit with him, asking about his meeting with Dumbledore. Harry told him the same thing he'd told the others, minus any mention of roses or hippos, since Snape swept in before he could mention that part.
Harry was actually kind of sad that he missed the blond Slytherin's reaction to the mental image of him giving roses to Voldemort or dancing purple hippos.
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"Uhm, hi?" Harry said, knocking politely on the mediwitch's office door.
"Someone finally curse you for hexing off their lips?" Madam Pomfrey asked, voice a little icy.
"No, but the Headmaster told me to come down here and offer myself to you in apology?" Harry replied, turning the statement into a question when the mediwitch's eyes lit up.
Madam Pomfrey got a decidedly evil look in her sharp eyes. "Oh, did he now? How nice. Well, I've got some soiled bed sheets that could use a good washing, and some potions bottles that need to be sorted. Perhaps a bit of dusting in the corners and those hard-to-reach spots about the cabinets."
Harry sighed and pulled his robe off, which he waved over to 'his bed'. "Which one do you want done first?" he asked.
"How about the bed sheets?" the mediwitch decided. "Beds seven and nine, if you would."
Harry rolled his eyes and made his way towards the specified beds, rolling up the sleeves of the shirt he wore under his robes as he went. Cleaning wasn't that bad, after all. Certainly better than being force-fed potions for an hour.
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After Transfiguration, Harry returned to the hospital wing for his second free hour of the day. While all of his seventh year friends also had the time free, they'd all cited prior engagements, leaving Harry to finish the dusting he hadn't been able to complete before he'd left on his own. Madam Pomfrey smiled a bit evilly at him when he walked in, but he just rolled his eyes, tossed his robe and bag onto his bed, and got to work.
He'd been there for maybe half an hour when he heard shouting at the doors, which burst open to admit a group of fifth years sporting some nasty burns - Gryffindors and Slytherins - and a very pissed off Snape.
"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey demanded of the professor while the students clustered together, eyes lined with pain.
"Mr Kirke decided it would be a brilliant idea to toss some boomslang skin into Ms Graham's Sleepless Solution," Snape reported, giving the Gryffindor in question a most disgusted look. "It exploded."
Harry was already reaching into the newly organised potion cabinet by the time Snape got to the explosion part. When Madam Pomfrey turned to get the potions herself, she smiled at seeing Harry pulling them out, so turned to the students and ordered, "Two to a bed, go on. No, Miss Vane, not that bed," she added, seeing the pretty Gryffindor girl heading towards the bed with Harry's things on it. "I'll manage, Severus," she told the potions master, who was looking past her at where Harry was putting the needed potions on a tray. "Thank you for bringing them all."
Snape sneered down at her, then stalked from the room.
"He could use a Charm of Respect," Harry commented, holding the tray with the potions carefully.
"I take it you had that lesson today," the mediwitch replied, leading Harry towards the worst off of the students. She took care of the administering of the potions while Harry made sure she got the right ones when she needed them and carried the tray for her.
"Perhaps I'll keep you around," Madam Pomfrey commented once all the fifth years had been sent to dinner and she and Harry were cleaning up the empty potions vials.
Harry snorted. "And cut into my very important study time? 'Mione would have fits."
The mediwitch smiled and shook her head. "I suppose so," she agreed. "Well, if you're ever bored, you can always come by and help out. It's nice to have an extra set of hands around."
Harry frowned a little thoughtfully. "I thought there were a couple of girls in my year who come in and help you every now and then."
"Tracey and Sally-Anne," Madam Pomfrey agreed. "Yes, but they like to make sure their work is done first, and they don't much like working together, what with the House rivalries, so Sally-Anne usually comes by before lunch and Tracey after lunch when they're not in classes. Tuesdays only Sally-Anne comes in, and neither of them comes in after four o'clock, since they like that time for studying. Except on weekends."
Harry frowned a bit. "That means you're by yourself during the Potions classes for the fifth year Gryffindors and Slytherins," he pointed out.
"And the sixth year Potions class," Madam Pomfrey agreed. "I make do."
Harry thought back to Ginny's schedule and grimaced; the sixth years had Potions when the seventh years had Transfiguration, which was one of the requirements for becoming a mediwitch or -wizard. "Well," he offered carefully, "I can't help you with the sixth years, but I can probably come by on Tuesdays and Thursdays from four to five to help with the fifth years."
Madam Pomfrey turned to him with a hopeful expression that seemed completely out of character for her. "You will? But you didn't have any thoughts about becoming a healer, I thought-"
"I'm fighting a war," Harry replied blandly. "Any healing magic I can learn is one more thing I can use out in the field. Without having to endanger actual medical staff."
Harry's words only seemed to make the mediwitch sad and she gently touched the side of Harry's face. "You're a good kid, Harry Potter," she murmured. "I wish things could be different."
"Me, too," Harry agreed, heart in his throat at her pained expression.
Madam Pomfrey nodded a bit and hurried off to her office. A quick glance at the clock near the exit showed it was about time for dinner, so Harry gathered his things.
Just as he was getting ready to leave, the mediwitch swept back out of her office, a book in hand which she handed to Harry. "If you're serious about learning some healing spells," she explained to his curious look, "this book is a good place to start. You can read it over and ask me any questions you have when you come by."
"Or the next time I'm stuck in here for some wound or another," Harry agreed drily.
"Then as well," Madam Pomfrey agreed. "Now, off to dinner with you, and I will see you on Thursday."
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Harry was just sitting down for dinner when his owl flew down from the rafters and landed on the arm he automatically outstretched. "Good evening, Hedwig," he said to her with a pleasant smile. "He finally wrote me back, I see. Did you peck his nose like I told you to?"
The owl let out a pleased hoot and rubbed her head against the hand Harry raised with some ham for her before taking the treat.
"You're such a good owl," Harry cooed, slipping the letter off and setting it in his lap before offering her more ham.
"She’s pretty, too," Parkinson offered. "What's her name again?"
"Hedwig," Harry replied, running a hand through some feathers that were slightly out of place. "And not only is she beautiful, she's the most brilliant owl in the whole school." All his friends made sounds of agreement, since every owl liked compliments and she really was a beautiful bird.
Hedwig puffed up with pleasure before pushing off against Harry's hand and flying back out through the windows at the top of the Great Hall.
"What did she bring you?" Malfoy asked, peering hopefully at the scroll that Harry had pulled from his lap.
"Response from Scrimgeour," Harry offered, slitting the seal with his butter knife. The minister's office had made a public apology to the Prophet that morning for insinuating that the Defence professor was a Death Eater, but there had been nothing in there about him not being a Dark wizard. Harry was quite interested to see what Scrimgeour had unearthed about a man who had, in reality, been dead for almost fifty years.
As Harry and the Dark Lord had expected, Scrimgeour managed to find little more than the few Dark spells the original Marcus had cast just out of Hogwarts in Italy. The laws on Dark magic hadn't been as strict back then, especially in Italy, so it had all been legal. Scrimgeour had also made mention of Marcus' extended disappearance and flagged it as suspicious. Harry fully intended to write him back and ask him how they expected to keep an eye on every wizard or witch who went off to travel the world, especially when most of that travelling happened during various wars in the muggle world.
The most interesting part of the entire letter was the picture evidence of Marcus in Italy when they'd gone to get his new wand. Harry was, luckily enough, not in the picture, but Marcus was and he was casting a Dark spell on some idiot who had punched him. (That had been sort of funny, at the time, actually. Harry had never quite figured out why the other wizard had punched the Dark Lord, but Marcus' expression of shock had been worth it.)
'Hm. I suppose the Cruciatus is illegal in Italy, too,' the Dark Lord commented in Harry's mind.
'How illegal?' Harry asked, frowning thoughtfully and rolling the parchment back up. They really didn't need Tom thrown in Azkaban over a punch.
'Not that illegal,' Tom assured him. 'Usually a trial is held and money is paid to the victim if the court rules it should be. I already had my 'stepfather' take care of it.'
'Let's move to Italy,' Harry decided, earning him a laugh from the Dark Lord.
"So? What did he say?" Hermione wanted to know once Harry had slipped the letter away.
"Nothing I didn't already know," Harry replied with a shrug. "Marcus used some Dark magic openly in his youth when it wasn't actually illegal in Italy, and has been pretty well behaved since then. In public, at least." His lips twitched with an amused smile at the scowls of the Gryffindors and the knowing smirks of the Slytherins. "There was an incident just this summer, but Italian law is pretty lax about the use of Dark magic as long as you have money, so it was swept under the rug."
"Are all ministries corrupt?" Dean complained.
"Yes," Nott said with certainty.
"It's politics," Malfoy added with a shrug. "Politics and corruption go hand-in-hand."
"Can't the British Ministry still call him out on that?" Ron wanted to know. "Not that we really want Brutús to be dragged out of the school, but they actually have evidence that he knows Dark magic, right?"
"Just because you know Dark magic doesn't necessarily mean you're going to cast it," Blaise pointed out. "As long as he doesn't perform any spells on British soil, they can't do anything more than smear his name."
"They can't even do that," Seamus commented, grinning at Harry. "Someone won't let them."
Harry grinned back and waved his fork around a bit in agreement, mouth full.
"They can still come and search his property though, right?" Ginny asked. Merlin knew her father had performed enough searches on the Malfoy Estate with no viable evidence.
"Sure," Malfoy agreed, shrugging. "But if Brutús is smart, he won't have any Dark artefacts out for them to find."
"He works at Hogwarts," Nott pointed out drily. "Do you really think he's going to have anything illegal with him?"
"Umbridge did," Dean pointed out, unconsciously rubbing at the back of his right hand.
The other Gryffindors who'd faced similar detentions also rubbed at their scars, grimacing. None of them were about to forget the blood quill the toad of a woman had used on them, and those who'd been present for it weren't about to forget how the woman had almost cast the Cruciatus Curse on Harry.
"I'd like to think Marcus is smarter than Umbridge," Harry commented, giving his potatoes an irritated look.
"Not much of a stretch," Parkinson said, rolling her eyes. "Vincent and Gregory are smarter than her."
There was some strained laughter at that.
"Do you think the Ministry would really come here and search his rooms?" Ginny asked after a moment of uncomfortable silence.
"If they have any sense, no," Neville offered. "Not only would it be a waste of resources, it would also irritate Harry."
"Considering how often they do that anyway..." Dean said, shrugging.
"Good point." Seamus shot Harry a smile, which had the younger teen rolling his eyes. "We could stop by and make sure Brutús knows to hide anything potentially illegal."
"You just want to see if he's got anything with him," Malfoy accused.
"What? You blame me?"
"We'll go by after dinner," Ginny decided, nodding.
"Is that necessary?" Neville enquired. "Harry's capable of making sure Brutús knows without us tagging along."
Ginny smiled sweetly. "What if we want to tag along?" she asked.
The others turned to Harry, wanting to see what he'd say to Ginny wanting to accompany him. The Boy Who Lived just shrugged. "Whatever."
Ginny and Seamus traded excited looks while the others either rolled their eyes or sighed helplessly.
Harry grinned then. "But when he kicks you out, go away. I won't be held responsible for you if you refuse."
Ginny and Seamus shot him suspicious looks while the others snorted in amusement.
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"I don't need any help hiding my non-existent illegal artefacts," Marcus muttered as the line of students burst into his room.
Harry, who had brought up the end of the line, leant up and kissed the Dark Lord. "You're the one who let them in here to begin with," he commented.
"Shut up," Marcus retorted, waving his door closed and leaning back against the wall to watch as Ginny and Seamus wandered around, trying to find Dark items. The Slytherins were helpfully telling them whether something was Dark or not (nothing was) while the rest of the Gryffindors just looked resigned.
Harry leant against the wall next to Marcus, smiling when an arm wrapped around his waist. "You're not that irritated."
The Dark Lord snorted. "Not really," he agreed. "It's actually a bit sweet, in a vomit-inducing, Gryffindor sort of way."
Harry snickered and rolled his eyes. "They'd have more luck going through my trunk, I think," he decided, glancing up at the ceiling, where a shimmer caught his eye. "I expected you to hide stuff better than that."
The Dark Lord chuckled, eyes flicking up towards the shimmer on the ceiling himself. "There's nothing illegal in there. It's just to make the particularly observant twitchy."
"No one in this room, then."
"Other than you, no."
"What's in there, then?"
"Cooking supplies."
Harry burst out laughing, making the other students turn to them with curious looks.
"Aww... You're so cute together," Ginny said, noticing Marcus' arm around Harry's waist.
"What's so funny?" Ron asked, deciding to ignore his sister completely.
"Cooking supplies," Marcus replied drily.
The students just sort of blinked, with Ginny and Seamus shooting the Dark Lord distrustful looks.
"You're having way too much fun with this," Harry decided, leaning his head on Marcus' shoulder.
"They make it too easy," Marcus replied, smirking at the students.
"Is Potter the only person you aren't an arse to?" Nott wanted to know.
"I'm an arse to him, too," Marcus assured the Slytherin, then turned to Seamus with a dark look as the Gryffindor grinned. "If you speak, Mr Finnigan, I will be happy to try cooked human."
Seamus let out a loud gulp and hid behind Ginny, pale.
Harry rolled his eyes and dragged the Dark Lord over to an open spot on the couch. "You're going to help me tell Scrimgeour where to stick it," he ordered.
"You actually need my help with that?" Marcus replied, taking the seat next to Harry.
"Not really, but I figured I'd let you unleash your vitriol on someone more deserving than teenagers."
Marcus grunted, but took the letter Harry held out to him from the minister. Harry pulled out a quill and some parchment while the Dark Lord read and, once he was done, happily wrote down the suggestions the others in the room gave him, even his friends getting into it.
By the end, Harry was quite pleased with the letter and kissed Marcus one last time before herding his friends out of the professor's room and going to send the letter. It was always nice to see everyone getting along.
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A/N: Sorry about this chapter being mostly filler. But I wanted to try and get a shot of Harry and Albus' relationship in there without Tom present and then I just had to add Poppy.
Anyway, next chapter is going to see a bit of a time jump. Just a couple of weeks, but I thought I'd warn you.
~Bats ^.^x
Spell Explanations:
- Reverentis -- meaning 'respectful' in Latin. Charm of Respect
A self-casting light charm which causes the caster to become extremely respectful to everyone they meet, despite how they might actually feel about that person. An often-used charm among politicians.
It is one of the rare few spells which can only affect the one who casts it, which classifies it as a light spell, as it cannot be used against someone.
Abandon & Reclaim Series:
Abandon the Prequel: Sixth Year
Abandon chapter 01
Reclaim chapter One
Abandoned Chapters:
One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten
Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Fourteen || Fifteen || Sixteen || Seventeen || Eighteen || Nineteen || Twenty
INCOMPLETE
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