Cursed

In contrast to the Cartier, the navigator’s watch was almost stark in its simplicity.  A utilitarian steel watch with a white face and black Arabic numbers, its appeal was mostly in how the engravings had been worn almost smooth by the many years it had spent in Jack’s pocket.  It was a piece of Jack’s history, and the fact that he had indulged Ianto by allowing the younger man to carry the timepiece and use the stopwatch had always caused those pesky butterflies to become more active in his stomach.

“I thought I’d ruined it,” Ianto whispered, his eyes wet with tears.

“Oh, Love,” Jack sighed.  “Come, now.  I need to hear you say it.  I need for you to tell me you know it was the curse that caused the damage.  Not my fists or boot, not you forgetting the constraints of the curse for a moment, not anything other than the Carrows’ malice and the curses’ malevolence.”  He paused, and Ianto sniffed but remained silent.  “Ianto, please,” he allowed some desperation into his voice.  “Because if it’s your fault, then that means it’s also mine.”  They had worked so hard on this.  Jack prayed it wasn’t a setback.

“No,” Ianto sniffed again and seemed to snap out of the memories that had momentarily paralyzed him.  “No, I’m sorry.  That wasn’t what I meant.  Well, maybe it was, but it’s like a habit.  I just need to keep catching myself at it and correcting the wrong thoughts.  You’re right.  It was the Carrows, and I’m so grateful that you’ve made it so I don’t have to fear them, anymore.  But it felt like it was my fault that it was ruined, because I insisted on carrying it around.  But it was a part of you that you didn’t mind me hanging onto, so…” he sniffed again.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Jack asked, touched.  At Ianto’s nod, he said, “You don’t wear lapel pins anymore, because you lost one in the hub, remember?  You said you worried Myfanwy had swallowed it, but…” he hesitated, reaching into the pocket of his waistcoat.  “I found it on the floor in my office, and I took to carrying it around.”

Ianto stared at him, dumbfounded.

“It was a part of you that I could hang onto, see,” Jack said, holding out the pin that Ianto had thought lost.

“Jack,” Ianto choked out, and it sounded like a laugh and a sob, all rolled into one.  He folded Jack’s hand back over the pin loving the idea that each of them had been carrying around a token of the other.  Jack quickly secreted the item back into his pocket before Ianto could change his mind.  He grinned at his lover, who was trying to compose himself.

“The watchmaker did an amazing job,” he ventured.

“He really did,” Ianto agreed, then looked up at Jack as he placed the watch into the watch pocket of his waistcoat.  “I’d like to thank you, now,” he added, and the smile that had begun so tentatively widened and turned a bit wicked.

Jack called for the check and they began to make their way back to the hotel as quickly as dignity would allow.  As they began to run, laughingly pulling one another along, Ianto conceded that there were some moments in life where dignity was overrated.

The muffliato spell served its purpose once more, and several energetic, deeply pleasurable hours later, a sleepy, finally sated Ianto draped himself over Jack’s chest.  Jack could feel every exertion and it was all well worth it, but he was looking forward to a few hours of well-earned rest.  But he was just drifting off when it hit him…

Oh, goddess…  Would Ianto always have the libido of a twenty-seven-year-old?  Jack shuddered, the thought filling him with a strange amalgamation of lust, exhaustion, anticipation, and dread.

***

They got back on track with Ianto’s training the next day.  Jack was able to help Archie and return to Hogwarts just after lunch.  The agenda for the second week was to test Ianto’s memory for spells, potions, and charms, and it was discovered that the unicorn’s blood had truly done its work.  As it turned out, Ianto’s eidetic memory did not begin in the Carrows’ basement; rather, it extended back to retroactively encompass the entirety of his life.  It had been meant as a punishment, but one useful side effect was that he remembered everything he had learned in school.  It was uncanny, really.

Horrible, but uncanny. 

But Ianto had done what came naturally; he’d shrugged and decided to make the best of it.

After a few more days, Professor McGonagall told Ianto it was time to start practicing certain spells.  She was a bit cross when Jack made Ianto confess that he had been using the muffliato spell… well, a lot. 

“How often?” she asked, looking stern.

“Only when we go to our rooms at night,” Ianto said, but Jack nudged him.  “Well, and also in the mornings.  You know, in case the spell dissipated overnight.  And… well, okay, also when we go there to rest in the afternoons.” 

At this point, Ianto’s face had gone a delicious shade of rose and everyone besides Ianto, Jack, and Professor McGonagall were fighting off laughter.  Jack was smiling fondly at Ianto, who looked like he wanted the floor to open and swallow him up.  Professor McGonagall, who was concerned that Ianto’s use of his magic had not been quite as restricted as she’d hoped, remained stern.

“And why, when we asked you to refrain from using your magic while we did our evaluations, did you decide to cast these spells?”

In a moment of panic reminiscent of Neville’s first years at Hogwarts, he blurted, “Luna said I should.”

“My fault, really,” Jack joined in, his appreciation for Ianto’s blushes being squelched by the embarrassment washing along their bond, quickly headed for shame and humiliation.  “Bit of a screamer, me,” he added, his grin dimmed somewhat by the glare he was aiming at McGonagall, whose mouth dropped open when she realized what Ianto had been using the spell for.

Ianto facepalmed as everyone burst into laughter, no longer able to hold in their merriment.  Jack knew better than to reach for him in that moment; Ianto was a good sport despite his embarrassment most of the time, but if pushed too far, his anger could be quite scathing.  Jack sent a good dose of affection and reassurance along their bond and hoped his lover wouldn’t be too angry with him for making him tell the professor about the spellwork he’d been doing.

But Jack had ‘accidentally’ overheard Professor McGonagall briefing the other teachers about her concerns.  She had been talking about some sort of proof of Ianto’s power, but Jack hadn’t really understood that bit – he assumed it was something they’d discovered from all the testing they’d been doing.  But her point had been that Ianto was quite powerful, and she was concerned about how that might affect him.

Some of her caution was because she did not wish for him to be overwhelmed by the return of his magic, but another possibility was that, not realizing his own strength, he could easily use too much magic in a spell, to devastating effect.

Jack found it interesting that she had not considered a third possibility – that the creatures’ blood had stabilized Ianto’s magic.  The unicorns had sort of indicated that.  Magic might be the scales balancing the blood of the unicorn and the dragon, but Jack intuited that another way of seeing it might be that the blood of the creatures also kept the magic from getting out of hand – their power assisting with control.

He had kept these ideas to himself, but perhaps a conversation between the three of them without all of the laughing witnesses might be in order.

“Mr. Jones, I apologize for embarrassing you,” Professor McGonagall began, but she stopped speaking when Ianto raised a hand to halt her.

“Professor, you’ve said several times since I’ve arrived that I’m no longer a student, here.  And as much as I appreciate all of the help everyone has so generously offered, I must ask that you remember that, as well.  I realize now that your concern is that I cannot control my magic, but scolding me like a child in front of everyone is not the way to address that.”

Neville never would have spoken to her thus.  A genuine, pleased, proud smile spread across Professor McGonagall’s face.  “Of course, you are correct.  It would seem that we have both been falling into old habits.  Again, I offer my apologies.”

“Thank you,” Ianto nodded, then went on.  “I have not used any other spells.  I think part of me felt safe using that one because I was sure Luna wouldn’t have told me to use it, if it posed any danger.  But I also think we might want to do more to evaluate and confirm the stability of my magic, based on what we learned from the unicorns the other night.  And I think we’ve come to the point where the only way to assess my control is by allowing me to actually do some magic.”

Jack found himself stood there, grinning madly at his lover.  Ianto regularly faced down hostile aliens, ran meetings with the Queen to report on Torchwood activities, and had even told the prime minister to fuck off on one gloriously memorable occasion.  But he had confided in Jack that he found Professor McGonagall as intimidating as when he’d been a student.  Jack was pleased that Ianto had not allowed his respect for her to keep him from standing up for himself.

“Ah, I see what you mean,” she replied, still smiling.  “But having had several friends who were seers, allow me to advise you that while their counsel can be quite good, it is best not to consider it flawless.”

“Noted,” Ianto tried not to smile, despite hearing Luna make an indignant huff.

“And you are correct; the information from the blessing is helpful.  But I believe you will agree that a methodical approach will be best as we explore your control.  We shall proceed as planned, though you may continue to use that spell as you deem necessary, as there have been no issues.”

“Thank you,” Ianto said, trying to shake off some of his embarrassment.

“We will walk you through each discipline,” she smiled, feeling the best way forward now would be through the awkwardness she had helped to create.  “Each professor will take the lead and quiz you in their area of study, and your friends will help you practice and remember the nuances.”

***

The following week-and-a-half was interesting, exhilarating, and exhausting by turns.  The morning sessions would find Ianto being quizzed and instructed by one of the professors, and then the afternoon would include practice sessions with his friends.  Everyone showed up to all of the sessions, as a show of support.

Not all sessions included practice; Herbology did not really involve magic, so it was more a refresher on the knowledge and theory.  That was the most difficult session, for Ianto.  Professor Sprout could tell he had lost his affinity for the discipline, though he remembered everything she had taught him.  It was a source of great grief to Ianto, and though it saddened her to see his pain, she chose to find happiness in the fact that he was back with them, and she helped him to focus on the things he had gained rather than what he had lost.  In so doing, she proved that it was not merely her expertise in the subject she taught that had made her such an outstanding teacher.

Ianto retreated to their rooms after that session and took lunch and dinner there, giving himself the time to allow and process the grief that had arisen.  Jack joined the others for lunch and games in the common room that afternoon so his lover could have time to himself, but he joined Ianto for dinner that evening.  Despite the younger man’s sorrow, Jack wanted to rejoice because Ianto had actually asked for what he needed.  Jack spent the evening holding Ianto, only talking when he felt inclined.

Ianto was himself again by the next day, having learned a valuable lesson about the benefits of taking care of himself.

Professor Slughorn was eager to hear about the collection of potions Ianto had carried with him during the years of what he had privately begun to call his exile.  Jack would have been offended if he had felt any discomfort along their bond, but Ianto was in a good place mentally and emotionally, and he was willing to satisfy the professor’s curiosity.  As a bonus, the afternoon’s practice session passed without a single melted cauldron.

To everyone’s surprise, Ianto now had a bit of a knack for Transfiguration.  This was likely down to the fact that his affinity had shifted from Herbology to spell-casting.  He had several sessions with Professors Flitwick and McGonagall where they challenged him with progressively more sophisticated charms and spells.

Tucked in between these sessions were a couple of Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons.  It was during the second of these that Jack made a discovery of his own.

***