Cursed

Jack had only listened with half an ear to Harry when he had given him Tosh’s message, but he perked up now as Ron entered with a heavily scarred man.  The two were clearly related, a fact confirmed when Ron introduced the man – Bill – as his brother.

Bill frowned at Ianto for a moment before murmuring, “Are you sure that’s him?”

“Definitely,” Ron nodded.

Bill looked at Hermione, who gave a slight frown at Bill questioning his brother.  She straightened and explained, “The Hominum Revelio spell triggered a painful reaction.  He managed to tell us that his appearance had been changed and the changes were made permanent when he was forced to ingest unicorn blood.”

“Merlin,” Bill breathed.  “Pain?”

“Yes.  Ianto is two inches shorter than… he used to be,” she caught herself.  “The name he was born with also triggers a painful curse, as do the names of those who did this to him.  Anything he said to try to tell us about his situation resulted in slashing wounds reminiscent of the Sectumsempra curse, though the cuts were not quite as deep, and are healing well, with Dittany.”

Bill pulled out his wand and muttered spells, some of which caused faint marks to show on Ianto’s skin where the curses had slashed at him, earlier.

“What else?” he asked.

Hermione described the curse that was triggered when Ianto asked for assistance or initiated any sort of personal exchange.  She also explained that the person attacking Ianto would have no memory of the event.  Finally, she told him that Ianto was spellbound and handed over the notebook Ianto had been keeping.

“Oh, this is good,” Bill said, sitting down to give his attention to the book.  He huffed.  “It’s color-coded and cross-referenced.  Are you sure…” he looked at Ianto again.

Jack chuckled.  “He may not be like the boy you knew, but that,” he pointed at the notebook, “is all Ianto.”

“And he’s Welsh,” Bill shook his head.

“Problem?” Jack asked, straightening but not loosening his hold on Ianto.

Bill’s eyes widened slightly, but then he smiled and shook his head.  “Not at all.”  He turned back to the notebook and carefully read all of Ianto’s notes and observations.  “He’s thorough,” Bill admitted, sometime later.

Hermione had set out some parchment, a pot of ink, and a quill and Bill began to make notes, turning back through the notebook to consult.  Several times he gave a quiet curse and scratched through what he had written, adjusting his plan to accommodate all of the spells and curses binding Ianto.

“We’ll have to work our way backwards,” he explained.  “The first thing the Carrows,” he winced as Ianto let out a groan, and a Healer rushed to close the cut that had opened on his chest.  “Sorry,” he muttered. 

“It seems like it’s escalating,” Hermione frowned towards Ianto as Jack glared at Bill.

“It is.  The various curses have been triggered pretty intensely in the last few hours.  The fact that the names are doing so much damage means those curses are the main line of defense against any attempt to break them.”

“So we have to unravel the curses in reverse order,” Hermione sat and pulled Bill’s parchment around so she could read his notes.  “You think the last curse is the one causing harm when he reaches out or asks for help.”

“Yes.  The first and last tend to be the strongest, with the ones in between defending the structure.”

“So the curses around his identity and speaking of what happened lie in the middle,” Ron joined in, looking over Hermione’s shoulder.

“And then the binding is the first,” Harry finished.

“Are you familiar with these?” Hermione asked Bill.

He nodded.  “I wouldn’t have recognized some of the smaller curses in between, but his notes are thorough.  He knew what they had done, even if he couldn’t articulate it.  He was still able to describe the effects of each, and he knew enough to record the strength of each reaction, which helps me see the hierarchy.”

“But why him?” Hermione asked, looking distressed.

“He stood up to Voldemort and then took out Nagini,” Bill shrugged.  “The war was all but won, and not by us, up until that moment, when he stepped forward.”  He hesitated.  “And he was the most vulnerable.  The only one on his own…” he did not need to add that Neville had always been a bit of an outsider, even within their group of friends.  Despite never letting them down and carrying on the war from within the very walls of Hogwarts, he had simply never been able to draw any closer to the rest of the tight-knit group.

“We really failed him, didn’t we?” she whispered.

“You mustn’t think that,” Bill reassured.  “I’m sure he doesn’t.  He never had it in him, to be bitter or resentful, though Merlin knows, he had enough reason to be.  And you’re here, now.  Let’s make this right.”

They spent a good deal of time planning.  Jack stayed next to Ianto, who seemed mostly unconscious but not entirely comfortable.  They would occasionally ask Jack questions, which he answered as best he could, though every question he could not answer felt like a failure – a missed opportunity to know his Welshman.  His wizard.  He was still amazed.  It had stung that Ianto hadn’t told him until he realized that Ianto couldn’t have told him without engaging one or more of the curses.  And even if he’d told Jack…  Being spellbound, he had no way of proving it.

“I have a question,” Jack spoke up, some hours later.  They were eating, and Jack had politely declined to join them.  He still had Ianto’s hand in his and had continued to card his hand through the younger man’s hair and whisper to him in Boeshanian. 

“Yes?” Hermione asked.  She had to admit that the handsome leader of Torchwood intrigued her.  She had not realized Neville had same-sex inclinations, and she certainly wasn’t one to judge.  But she had heard a lot about the infamous Captain Jack Harkness, and to think that quiet, sweet Neville Longbottom would be attracted to him was a bit of a surprise.  After all, Neville had never been the type to appreciate the kind of fuss a dramatic partner could make.

She was pulled from her musings as Jack said, “I seem to have a bit of resistance to spells and jinxes.  I’m pretty sure I know why, but I’m curious as to how it works.”

Intrigued, Bill pulled out his wand and waved it at Jack.  His eyes widened at what he saw.  “That’s the vortex!” he exclaimed.

“What?” Harry frowned.

“He’s…” Bill was speechless, for a moment.

Hermione, who had pulled out her wand to cast the same spell, merely stared.  “Not just a spark, either,” she muttered, her voice low and awed.

“He’s a channel,” Bill nodded.

“What does that mean?” Jack asked.  He knew he had the time vortex coursing through his body, but how did these people know what it was?

“The way it was explained to us in our magical theory classes, every human being has this sort of… metaphorical window.  Most say it’s located in the sacrum, somewhere between the lower lumbar spine and the tailbone,” Hermione began.

“A window,” Jack said, looking at her flatly.

She waved him quiet, so she could finish.  “Any human can open this window and access the vortex.  Capture a spark of it.  And what their spark taps into will dictate their fire, their genius.  For instance, those who tap into the creativity of the universe are the artists.  The creative geniuses.”

“Though some are just kind of flaky, if they just groove on their spark, without tapping into anything,” Ron grinned.

“I’ve known a few of those,” Jack chuckled.

“And those of us who are magically inclined tap into the elemental nature of the universe and then use the spark to ground our magical energy,” Hermione continued, warming to the subject.  “And it’s a matter of capacity, what any person taps into, once they’ve found their spark.  Some have the capacity for magic, some for painting, some for… astrophysics.”

“But the thing is,” Bill added.  “You can do anything, go as far as your capacity and inclination will take you.  But all you need is a spark, to access it.”

“And you just said,” Jack crossed his arms over his chest.  “I’ve got a bit more than just a spark.”

“Your window has been distorted to the size of a… very large door,” Bill nodded.  “And it’s not just a spark.  It’s pouring through you.  You’re a channel.”

“Meaning?” Jack knew all too well what it meant, but he felt a small stirring of hope that maybe they could help him.

“You’re… immortal?” Bill breathed, realizing what channeling the vortex would mean.  “You have an endless stream of vortex energy, constantly pouring through you.” 

“That’s why you’re all… tingly!” Ron exclaimed, then looked a bit abashed as Harry chuckled.

“Tingly?” Jack frowned.  Then he looked dismayed.  “I feel wrong to you, don’t I?”

“What?  No!” Hermione answered quickly.  “What my husband is trying to say is that the air around you sort of tingles.  It’s… buzzy.”  She smiled reassuringly.  “It’s actually quite nice.”

Jack looked from one to the other, his panic subsiding.  For a moment, he’d had a feeling of dread that once they freed Ianto’s magic, he wouldn’t be able to tolerate Jack’s presence.  He realized his greatest fear was that Ianto would react the way the Doctor had – with revulsion, distance, and a casual sort of contempt that hurt more than anything else ever had.

But this was Ianto.  He would never do that.  He wasn’t some pompous, jumped-up Time Lord.  (Jack was not bitter.)  But it did beg the question…

“If he’s spellbound, he hasn’t felt that, has he?”  Jack glanced towards Ianto’s sleeping form.

They looked uncertain.  “Probably not,” Bill admitted, after a few moments’ thought.  “But it’s hard to say.”

“Will he hate it, when you fix him?” Jack could not keep the waver out of his voice.

Hermione giggled.

“No, mate,” Bill smiled.  “Remember, it’s a spark of the vortex in each of us that anchors our magic.  So it’s something that is very familiar and beautiful, to us.  It’s not a bad feeling.”  He frowned.  “Has someone told you that it is?”

Jack shrugged, not looking at them.  He cleared his throat and got back to his question.  “Can you close the window?”

Bill looked startled.  “I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s possible.”  He looked at Hermione.  “Do you know of anything…”

She shook her head, thinking.  “I don’t, but I can do some research, once we have Ianto sorted.”

***