Cursed

Augusta Longbottom looked at the source of her grandchild’s excess vortex.  By all accounts, Captain Jack Harkness’ devotion to Ianto had proved singular in the weeks they had been at St. Mungo’s.  Other than going to pack a bag for them both, the only time he had left Ianto’s side was to go shoot the Carrows dead. 

She could not disapprove.

And while it would be all too easy to assume it was mere gratitude on Harkness’ part, it was acknowledged that he had angered and annoyed most of the Healers by refusing to leave Ianto’s side, well before his own transformation had occurred.  Even as she inspected the immortal muggle, his eyes were fixed on her grandson, not for a moment straying from him, his worry and protectiveness raw and unmasked.

“Now,” she returned her attention to Ianto.  “What is this nonsense about you not being any better than a squib?  I never uttered those words, in my life.”

“You did,” Ianto leaned back, and she was glad to see anger and defiance in his eyes, even if they were directed at her.  “Uncle Algie said you told him…”

A startling sound erupted from her, somewhere between a growl and a hiss, and she looked very much like an angry cat as she gritted out, “That weeping pustule of dragon dung!”

Jack let out a startled laugh as Ianto sat back, his eyes wide.  Augusta caught herself and reined in her temper before reaching out and taking Ianto by the arms.

“Ianto.  This is very important.  When was the last time you saw your Uncle Algernon?”

Ianto frowned as he considered.  “I think it was at the wake, after Great-Nan passed,” he replied.  “The summer after my second year at Hogwarts.”  He hesitated.  “That’s when he told me…  He said that Professor McGonagall had told you I was a disappointment…” he admitted, looking ashamed.

“Oh, sweet Merlin,” she groaned, her dismay apparent.  “Minerva never said any such thing, and nor did I!” 

“But you were always reading me a lecture on what a disappointment I was,” Ianto challenged, shifting further away from her and leaning against Jack’s chest, for support, “How unlike my parents I was.  How unlike my father,” he slumped against Jack, whose arms came up to embrace and support him.  “That howler, in third year,” he sniffed.

Augusta had no reply to that, because it was all true.

After a few moments, Ianto spoke into the silence.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Whatever for?” Augusta asked, confused.  “My boy, it’s you who deserve every apology, for how we all behaved,” she declared.

“’m sorry I was never good enough,” he said, if possible, looking even more ashamed.

Augusta felt her eyes welling with tears.  Jack kissed Ianto’s head and quickly explained how the potions Ianto had been given were helping him to talk and to offload the sources of the negativity that had escaped him in that cloud, several days before.

Augusta took her grandson’s hand and said, “Ianto, you are and always have been perfect.  And I owe you an apology for making you feel that you were ever less than worthy of every good thing.  I know it’s not an excuse, but I had lost Frank and Alice, but I still had you, and I made the mistake of looking for your father in you when you deserved to be seen as yourself.  And I promise you, I will not make that mistake again,” she declared.

Jack felt certain she was speaking the truth, because he had not yet seen her searching Ianto’s face for any trace of Neville during this meeting.  He believed that she had learned her lesson.

She shook her head and returned to the topic at hand.  “And before that?” she asked.  “When did you last see your uncle, before the wake?”

Ianto frowned, confused.  He didn’t understand why this was important, but he leaned back into Jack’s supportive touch and tried to think.  He gave a full-body shudder and drew further into himself as he remembered.  “It was that day…  Th-the window,” he tried to shake off the memory.

Ianto began trembling, remembering the terror of being dangled by his ankles and then dropped from an upper-story window of a tall old house set on a hill.  He had been very young, and it had given him a lifelong fear of heights.

Suddenly, Jack realized the source of Ianto’s phobia.  On occasion, he had taken Ianto to different rooftops to enjoy the silence and the view, and he had always been baffled by Ianto’s irrational terror.  Jack had even laughed at the younger man for staying close to the door rather than coming anywhere near the edge of whatever building Jack was perched on. 

He had also noticed how Ianto always avoided the invisible lift, and on the occasions that Jack had pulled him onto it, Ianto had practically clung to him for the duration of the ascent or descent.

He now understood Ianto’s fear and felt guilty for having mocked it.

Jack kissed Ianto’s temple and whispered soothing words to him, trying to calm the tremors as Augusta looked on with regret, realizing the trauma of what her horrible idiot brother-in-law had done.  She took Ianto’s hand again.

“I don’t think you remember this, but I sent Algernon away after that… incident.  He had already gone too far in Blackpool, and I had told him in no uncertain terms that I would banish him from our home if anything like that happened again.  And I stayed true to my word.  I sent him away after he dropped you from the window, and he only came back for Mother’s funeral and wake.  And now I see that even then, he managed to do more damage.  I am sorry for that.  I should have told you how wrong he was, to try to force your magic.”

Ianto gave her a nod to indicate that he understood what she was saying.  He was surprised.  He hadn’t realized that she had sent his uncle away, but he did remember feeling a sense of relief at the extended period that he had gone without seeing his terrifying uncle and the sense of dread when he saw the man approaching him at the wake with a malicious gleam in his eye. 

Ianto’s Uncle Algernon had never had a kind word for him.  Or a kind act, for that matter.  Ianto had never understood why, other than some sort of familial pride being bruised by young Neville not living up to the Longbottom name.  It did not seem to be sufficient reason to terrorize a lonely, grieving child.  But then again, cruelty never needed a reason.

He was still shivering, and Jack made the suggestion of getting them up off of the floor.  “How about we go sit on one of the beds over there?” he said, and Ianto inexplicably began to panic.

He wrapped himself around Jack, crying, “No!”  He began to weep.  “No, please!”

“Ianto?” Jack asked, confused.

“Don’t put me in here,” Ianto replied in a terrified whisper, and a tiny sob escaped from Augusta.

Too late, Jack realized that one of Ianto’s fears had been that he would end up in this very ward, like his parents.

“No.  You’re right.  I’m sorry,” he replied calmly, “That will never happen, Love.  But can we get a blanket?  It’s freezing down here on the floor, and I don’t want you to catch a chill.”

Augusta pulled out her wand, and Jack tried not to flinch as she waved it.  But her intentions became clear as a thick, squashy cushion appeared beneath them, and Jack was able to sit comfortably, holding Ianto close.

In the next moment, Susan and Bill were draping a blanket over Ianto.  But before they could tuck it around him, Ianto gave a great sigh and called on something resembling muscle memory, and the blanket magically tightened around him.  He snuggled more closely into Jack’s warmth as Susan let out a gasp and Bill made a sound resembling, “Whoah.”

Jack’s eyes were on Augusta, whose wand was still caught mid-air, her expression wide-eyed.  “I wondered about that,” Jack said.  “Ianto said his magic never presented when he was young.  Or if it did, it wasn’t in a way that the adults around him could recognize.  But he’s been swaddling himself for a long time, hasn’t he?”

Augusta nodded dumbly.  After a moment, she found her words.  “Within moments of his birth,” she whispered.  “The midwife congratulated Frank for knowing how to swaddle… the baby.”

She had hesitated, because the child’s name at the time had been Neville.  In fairness, she was trying to develop the discipline of calling him Ianto.  Because she realized that’s who he was, now.  And she was willing to accept that reality as the tradeoff for knowing that her grandson had been returned to her.

She let out a rueful chuckle.  “Frank just smiled and nodded; he was too besotted with his new child to have even heard what she’d said.  But it was a confusing moment, because I knew full well that Frank had no more idea how to swaddle a child than he would have known how to tame a dragon.  And it always seemed,” she added thoughtfully, “I would always find him more securely tucked in than I had left him.  Oh, Merlin,” she sighed.  “He was showing his magic from almost the moment he was born, and I never thought anything of it!”

“He doesn’t like being cold,” Jack offered with a smile full of warmth and affection.

“No.  No, he never has,” she replied with a fond chuckle, happy that there was something that was still the same. 

She was finding hints of Neville in Ianto, and it was more than enough.  Because each small example brought her such joy.  And each new thing she learned, even if it was different than before, was proving to be a source of happiness and discovery.

Her Neville may be gone, but this young man was still fundamentally her grandson.  She knew this by instinct as much as anything else, and she looked forward to getting to know him, again.  The things she had already heard were extraordinary, and she had no intention of squandering this second chance.

Jack recognized her resolve and admired her for it.  By all accounts, she was a stubborn woman, and things could have turned out very differently, had that stubbornness insisted upon trying to find Neville rather than Ianto.  And yet, she was doing everything she could to accept Ianto as he was.  It seemed that the previous week’s experience had at least taught a lesson, even if it had been at a terrible price.  Jack reached out and took her hand and smiled at her reassuringly. 

“It’ll be worth the effort,” he assured her.

“Oh, I have no doubt of that, Captain,” she replied, her voice softening in a becoming way, and he realized that most of her stern gruffness was a sort of armor against all the pain the world had hurled at her.  “I have heard enough already to be certain that is true,” she added.

She looked at Ianto, who was now dozing against Jack’s chest and sighed.  “The Healers told me that he wanted to see his parents.  I was trying to leave as quickly as I could.”

“No,” Jack said, quickly.  “This is good.  It’s good for you two to have a chance to talk and clear the air.  He’s been offloading a lot in the past few days, but I think there are things that wouldn’t necessarily have come up in our conversations, so I think it’s good that this has happened, to give him the chance to purge that old pain.”

“Indeed,” she sighed.

“Are you alright?” Jack asked.  “This can’t be easy for you.  I mean, you have him back, but he’s not the same.  And now you’ve got to navigate difficult memories before you can celebrate.”

“I will be fine,” she gave him a kindly smile.  “The joy of having him back shall sustain me through the admission of my own culpability in the pain that has been stirred up.”  She gave a huff.  “Never mind it’s my own fault that it got stirred up, in the first place.”

“He would have had to deal with it, one way or another,” Susan put in, her voice gentle.

“Not sure about Neville, but one thing I think you’ll discover about Ianto is that he never does anything by halves,” Jack added wryly, and Augusta chuckled before turning pensive, watching the handsome young man resting against the Captain’s chest.

***