Cursed

“You are so beautiful.”

Ianto stopped laughing, but the echo of his joy could still be seen in the curve of his lips and the light in his eyes.  It was clear that he had heard Jack, because the compliment had stalled his laugh.  But it was equally clear that maybe… maybe… he believed Jack’s sentiment, because he did not stop smiling. 

With care, consideration, and a courage Jack could only wonder at, Ianto leaned in.  Slowly enough that he could quickly retreat, because it was too soon after the curses had been broken for him to truly trust that he wouldn’t get punished for the attempt.  But also without hesitation, which made Jack think Ianto might be the most fearless person he’d ever met.

Ianto was lying on his right side, and he had somehow managed to snake his right arm under Jack so his hand was at the top of Jack’s left hip.  His left hand made its way through Jack’s hair as he took a firm hold of the back of Jack’s head and gently pulled him closer.  Jack’s left hand found Ianto’s cheek as his right landed on Ianto’s shoulder blade.

Ianto kissed Jack, tentatively, at first.  It was a sweet, tender testing of the waters, and Jack worked to keep his response as passive as he could manage while still encouraging forward momentum.  More than anything, he wanted Ianto to feel safe, leading this.

How had he never noticed how completely passive the curses had forced Ianto to be, in their loving?  Jack was frustrated and ashamed, not only because he had doubtless treated his lover horribly, but also because Ianto taking the lead, in that careful, intensely focused way, was not something to be missed.

Ianto moved from Jack’s mouth far too soon, trailing kisses along his jaw.  He lapped at a spot beyond the hinge of Jack’s jaw, just behind his earlobe, and Jack sucked in a breath.  Without even trying, Ianto had found one of Jack’s sweet spots.  There were only a scant few, but the right kind of attention to one of them could have Jack coming, untouched.

Though he must have felt Jack’s jolt of desire, Ianto did not linger there.  One last lick and he was taking Jack’s earlobe, sucking at it with just the right amount of pressure, and worrying at it with his teeth. 

But again, he didn’t linger.  With a sigh that Jack interpreted as regret, he smoothed his cheek against Jack’s, dragging their skin together in a lightly-stubbled scratch before claiming Jack’s mouth again. 

The kiss was patient and slow, potent, and absolutely perfect.  Soft, open mouths moving languidly against one another.  All the time in the world, and no endgame, as Ianto wasn’t yet up for anything strenuous, even in the unlikely event that he might be inclined to get naked in an unlocked room where people could (and often did) come and go at random.

Ianto sighed into the kiss, deepening it, and rolled slightly away from Jack, pulling him along.  Jack was now mostly on top of Ianto, who was not quite fully on his back.  He sighed again, clearly enjoying the feel of Jack’s weight on him, and Jack felt the nip of teeth at his bottom lip. 

It was all he could do, not to moan into Ianto’s mouth, but he was doing his best not to escalate.  He wanted Ianto to do that, if he so chose.  But he also knew that Ianto was dreadfully tired.  He returned the favor, though instead of biting, he ventured the tiniest feather-light touch of his tongue along the outside edge of Ianto’s bottom lip.

Ianto’s entire body shivered in response, and he finally gave in to the temptation he had been resisting.  He pulled Jack closer and with that same slow deliberation, began exploring Jack’s mouth with his tongue.  Both men became lost in the soft, delicious enjoyment of holding one another tenderly and snogging lazily.

After all he had been through, Ianto could be forgiven for only being able to focus on one thing at a time.  In this moment, that one thing was Jack and the gorgeous sensations of the kiss, as well as being allowed to lead the exchange.  Jack was almost as carried away, though he did register, somewhere far away, the strident demands of an angry woman, tempered by a more reasonable tone that, while it held more authority, couldn’t seem to gainsay the angry one.

“Augusta, for heaven’s sake, you can’t just barge into patients’ rooms.  Let us find a Healer who can tell us where to find him, and what his condition is.”

“I will not be stonewalled!  Now either help me find him, or get out of my way, Minerva!”

“Here we are, my dear,” came the brisk reply shaded by impatience.  “This is the only room with a curse-breaking warning.  Now remember…”

“Out of my way!”

The voices had barely registered, much less the words.  But when two older women burst into the room, Jack couldn’t help but take notice.

“What is the meaning of this?” one of the women all but shouted.

Jack leaned back with a show of insouciance, his native defiance not appreciating the rude interruption.  What surprised him was Ianto lurching from his arms and bolting upright, a look of shock on his face.

“Gran?”

Jack sat up, glad that he and Ianto were still dressed.  He had been contemplating at least getting their vests off, but they were having such a lovely time, he hadn’t rushed.  He was thankful now, suspecting that Ianto would have been mortified.  He looked at his lover now and was both surprised and pleased to see that Ianto looked startled, but not embarrassed.

The old woman, who was tall and stately, was dressed in a preposterous hat with a stuffed vulture on it.  Jack would have laughed, but he had lived long enough to know better than to cross such a woman.

He watched her watch Ianto for a moment, and realized that Ianto wasn’t up to initiating this first interaction.  So he put on his most affable smile.

“Captain Jack Harkness,” he said.  “Pleasure to meet you.”

Augusta Longbottom looked down her nose at Jack and made it clear she was not impressed.  She returned to staring at Ianto. 

“Minerva McGonagall,” the Headmistress of Hogwarts held out her hand to Jack, clearly attempting to regain some control of the situation.

“I’m curious how you found us,” Jack said.  “The curse-breaker and Healer both thought it best to keep Ianto quiet until he was more recovered.”

“I’m afraid that was my fault,” Professor McGonagall said, looking chagrined.  “Susan Bones and Bill Weasley reached out to consult on an unusual case.  They had to fully explain the situation so I could properly help, and I guessed that it was Mr. Longbottom who had been found.  Or I suppose I should say, Mr. Jones.”  She smiled at Ianto, and Jack liked her immensely for not being obvious in searching for Neville in Ianto’s face.

“Susan mentioned a loose end to be tied up,” Jack said, casting a glance at Ianto’s grandmother, who seemed to be vibrating with tension.

Professor McGonagall clearly felt the tension as well, and continued to speak in an attempt to alleviate it.  “I consulted Albus Dumbledore’s notes on the uses of dragon’s blood and worked with our Healer and Potions Master to create a receipt to alleviate some of the effects Mr. Jones has been enduring.  One in particular, actually.  I’ve brought the receipt so they can create the potion, as I could not get my hands on the needed quantities of dragon’s blood as expeditiously as Mr. Weasley.”

Jack smiled, not really understanding where Ianto’s grandmother came into the mix.  He had a hand at the small of Ianto’s back, and he was a little concerned that neither Ianto nor his grandmother had said a word, as yet.  Ianto was leaning against Jack, and it likely appeared that he was leaning away from her, but he was simply too weak to hold himself up straight.  Jack suspected the slight tremor was nerves.  He had gathered that their last interaction had not gone well.

Professor McGonagall once more rushed to fill the silence.  This was out of character for her, but she was quickly realizing her misstep.  Ianto was clearly still quite weak, though the comfort he had been receiving when she and Augusta arrived had clearly done him some good.  But he looked nothing like Neville.  This should have come as no surprise, given what Bill and Susan had told her, but she was not certain that Augusta had grasped the full weight of the situation.

“I ran into Augusta when I arrived.  She was visiting Frank and Alice, but I thought she was visiting…” she looked to Ianto.

“Ianto,” he said, dragging his eyes from his grandmother to speak to the professor.  “Ianto Jones, ma’am.”

Professor McGonagall’s eyebrows had sailed high onto her forehead.  “Welsh?”

“Ma’am.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Augusta finally found her voice.  “And why do you still look like this?”

“Augusta, I already explained,” Professor McGonagall said, her voice betraying her frayed patience with the overbearing woman.

“Yes, yes, the Carrows,” Augusta spat.  “They changed him and cursed him.  But now the curses have been lifted.  There’s no need to continue with this,” she looked him up and down, clearly disapproving of what she saw, “inferior disguise.”

Jack bristled as he felt Ianto shrink away from the assault.  “How dare you!” he seethed.

“How dare I?” she brought herself up to her full height, towering over them in the bed.  “I have every right to want to see my grandson, who has been missing for years!  And I have every right to demand that this… this imposter return my grandson to me.  Ianto Jones, indeed,” she sneered.  “To abandon your name, your heritage, your parents?  It is not to be borne!”

“Augusta,” Professor McGonagall warned as Jack threw back the covers and made to stand.  Ianto was curling in on himself, and Jack was enraged.

“You come in here after seven years and just start attacking him?” Jack was struggling not to shout.  “You don’t know anything about what he’s been through, about what they did to him, about what he has suffered.  And did it not occur to you – one of the curses caused people to attack him, if he asked for help.  Do you really think he didn’t come to you for help, when this first happened?  What do you think you did to him, that he became so willing to admit that Neville was dead and to create Ianto, from the ashes?” 

“Stop talking nonsense,” Augusta said, her voice rising with her temper.  “I would never harm my grandson!”

Jack looked at Ianto.  “Tell her,” he commanded, his voice gentling.  When Ianto shook his head, Jack sat next to him and ran a comforting hand down his spine.  “She needs to know what happened, so she can understand.”  He reached out and with his index finger under Ianto’s chin, he encouraged the younger man to look at him. 

“Tell me, then.  Tell me what happened.  You went to your friends for help.  You said Hermione tried to stab you, Ron beat you up, and Harry and Ginny tried to curse you.  Where did you go, next?”

“I went to Luna, and then Gran,” Ianto said, his voice wavering.  “And she…”  He swallowed, and glanced quickly up at Augusta, then back to Jack, raw anguish in his eyes.  He shook his head, not wanting to say.  “It wasn’t her fault.  It was the curse!”

“I know, Love.  But she doesn’t remember.  What did she do?”

Ianto sniffed and lifted his vest to reveal part of his scarred torso.  Professor McGonagall stifled a gasp at the sight of one scar in particular that was clearly a magical injury.  A long, jagged wound that was part slash, part burn followed his ribs from just under his left pectoral muscle and around his side.  It was a vivid, ugly scar that time had not softened.

“I refuse to stand here and listen to these lies!” Augusta shouted.  “Stop this nonsense at once!  I demand to see Neville!”  Before anyone could react, she pulled out her wand and cried, “Hominum Revelio!”

***