Cursed

It was a Saturday afternoon.  They’d been at Hogwarts for almost three weeks, and the morning had been devoted to some of the higher-level topics from the Defense Against the Dark Arts coursework.  They had just returned from lunch, and the instructor suggested they all practice the Patronus charm.  Ianto looked unsure of himself, and he wandered over to a window as the others settled into the room. 

“What is it?” Jack asked, leaning casually against the casement with his hands in his pockets, looking back into the room while watching his lover from the corner of his eye.

“Always struggled with this one,” he said.

“Why do you think that was?” Jack asked, hoping to talk Ianto around.  His grief could keep him from doing his best magic, and Jack was determined to help him keep his head above those waters that were so apt to drag him under at the most inopportune moments.  Ianto had come a very long way, but that didn’t mean his grief wasn’t still profound.

Ianto lifted an unenthusiastic shoulder. 

“Hey, Lover,” Jack nudged that shoulder with his own.  “Talk to me.”

Ianto sighed, and after a few moments, he began speaking.  “The Patronus charm is pretty advanced magic.  It relies on focus and a strong sense memory.”

Jack wasn’t sure he saw the problem.  Except…  “And you had focus issues?”

“More like confidence issues,” Ianto replied.  “And the spell relies on sort of infusing yourself with a happy memory.”

“Ah.”

Ianto had shared enough for Jack to know that the younger man had not had the happiest of childhoods.  Finding a strong, happy memory must have been damned hard for young Neville.  Jack’s heart went out to him, but he was there to remind Ianto that he did have some happy memories now.

“It doesn’t help that I was the only one of this lot who couldn’t produce a corporeal patronus.”

Jack frowned.  “What does that mean?”

“The patronus spell is defensive.  It conjures a guardian.  Non-corporeal results don’t offer much protection.  A well-cast patronus takes on a corporeal form.”

“Like what?” Jack asked, fascinated.

“An animal.”

“Any animal?”  Jack smiled.  “That could be fun.  What animal would you want it to be?”

“That’s not really how it works,” Ianto shook his head, but gave Jack a small smile.  “They say it takes the shape of the animal that the witch or wizard has a connection to.  Like a spirit animal, I suppose.” 

The color rose on his cheekbones, and Jack refrained from reaching out and pulling him in for a kiss.  He stayed still, wondering if Ianto would share what thought had caused that lovely blush.

“They say it can be influenced by the person the witch or wizard… loves,” Ianto said, his voice quiet, and he hesitated before uttering the last word, though he did not stumble over it.

“Ooh, then maybe yours will be a badass animal,” Jack said, his voice full of mischief, “like a honey badger.”  He made his voice more camp.  “Honey badger don’t care.”[1]

“That’s it, I’m cutting off your internet access,” Ianto chuckled, then leaned in for a kiss.  “More like a peacock, I think.”

“Hey!  I’m more than just a pretty face,” Jack pouted.

“I know,” Ianto replied, serious again.  “And it will probably be something fierce.”  He paused before adding, “Beautiful, but fierce.”

“Flatterer,” Jack laughed as he pulled Ianto in for a hug, then kissed him tenderly before releasing him.

“Oi, enough kissy face,” Ron admonished with a grin.  “Time to see how this goes.”

Ianto was excessively grateful that Ron had chosen his words so carefully.  “Time to see if you can do this,” just didn’t have the same ring.

“We’ll go first,” Hermione said, nodding to the Defense professor, a small, haughty man named Dankworth.

Jack’s breath caught as, one after one, those present cast the Patronus charm.  Dankworth’s was a dingo.  McGonagall’s was a cat.  Flitwick’s was a hedgehog.  Slughorn’s was an emperor penguin.  Both Professor Sprout and Madame Pomfrey produced non-corporeal patronuses.

Jack watched as the glowing mist hung in the air before Professor Sprout, and an idea began to form.

Next came Harry, whose stag was strong and exuberant.  Ginny, who had a day off between practice and the next afternoon’s match, produced a horse that trotted proudly around the perimeter of the room.

Jack’s eyes narrowed.

Hermione’s otter floated serenely through the air, while Ron’s Jack Russell terrier capered about.  By the time Luna produced her hare patronus, Jack was grinning.

“You see it, don’t you?” Ianto murmured from Jack’s side, smiling at the menagerie of patronuses as they settled and began to dissipate.

“Nag seems a bit unkind for such a lovely specimen,” Jack observed, watching Ginny’s majestic Arabian amble past one last time.

“Yeah, well.  There was a misdirected bat-bogey hex that might have landed on me instead of Pansy Parkinson just before I gave her that name.”

Jack laughed.  “Bunny’s more self-evident.”  He leaned his shoulder against Ianto’s before adding quietly, “So is Smoke.”

Ianto blew out a breath.  “Let’s see whether that holds true, or it’s something else that’s changed.”

“My bet’s on the latter,” Jack said, backing away and leaning against a desk.  “You’re one of the most focused people I know, Ianto.”

“Remember, Mr. Jones,” Professor Dankworth advised.  “Think of the happiest, most powerful memory you can.  Let it permeate your being.”

Ianto looked around.  His friends looked nervous for him.  The professors looked encouraging.  Jack was just leaned against the desk, legs crossed at the ankles, arms folded over his chest, watching with an expression that was so fond and affectionate, it made those damned butterflies take flight again.  Along the bond he felt Jack’s anticipation – like he already knew Ianto could do this.

Ianto closed his eyes and tried to think of a happy memory to conjure, though it felt important that for this, it not be Jack-related.  He was pleased to realize that there had been quite a few happy memories in the past few weeks, alone.  The most powerful that came to mind was of that wild run through the Forbidden Forest, followed by the frenzied lovemaking in the moonlit clearing.  Ianto felt joy spread through his entire being and heard Jack’s intake of breath as it washed through their bond, as well.

Ianto opened his eyes, waved his wand in a circular motion, and incanted, “Expecto Patronum!”

A bright, bluish-white light erupted from his wand with enough force that he had to take a step back in order to keep his balance.  It felt as though something physical had burst from his wand.  Almost at once, it took shape, leaping forward and prowling nimbly around the perimeter of the room before jumping onto a desk.  It settled onto its haunches, back straight, front legs extended, and wrapped its tail neatly around its paws, somehow looking both prim and fierce.

“Whoa,” Ron muttered. 

“Yes!” Ginny hissed as Luna clapped her hands together in delight.  The others looked pleased and surprised.

“Keep your focus,” Dankworth advised, reaching for one of the books on his desk and quickly paging through. 

That was no chore, Ianto thought.  It was gorgeous!  All grace and coiled power, it sat and took in its surroundings with cautious curiosity.  There was something cool and mysterious about it, and yet it drew one towards it like the most approachable of friends.

It sat with such calm dignity that Ianto could hardly believe it was his patronus.  He might have developed a talent for appearing calm and dignified, but he rarely felt the former and could almost never sustain the latter.  But seeing it gave him the same deeply-seated, practically autonomic response as a hug from Jack.  He felt safe, loved, and protected. 

And then he realized.  It was calmly watching its surroundings with eyes the same shade of blue as a certain captain.  Ianto smiled, recognizing who the true source of the patronus must be.

“It’s Jack,” he smiled, knowing how one’s love could affect one’s patronus.  But something about that niggled.  Of all the animals to choose from, he wasn’t certain the first thing that came to mind when he thought of Jack was particularly cat-like. 

“No, Love,” Jack replied, his voice soft and full of affection.  “Or… not entirely,” he added, having seen the patronus’ eyes.  But then, echoing Ianto’s thoughts, he added, “Between us, I’m not the one who screams ‘feline’.”

Ianto frowned, but before he could think on it further, Dankworth spoke up.

“Yes, here we are.  Melanistic, or black, panther.”  He looked up, staring at the patronus over his spectacles.  “Is this a jaguar, or leopard?”

The patronus seemed less ethereal than most, because it was less silver, which meant the large cat’s features were easily discernible, right down to its spots.  Ianto was staring hard, taking in every detail, but he was too preoccupied to answer, so Luna spoke up.

“Leopard,” she answered.  “It’s leaner than a jaguar, and its tail is longer.  And its rosettes don’t have spots inside.”  She approached the patronus, her abstract expression telling them she was seeing more than just the image before her.  “Ah,” she said after a moment, her face relaxing into a smile of satisfaction.

“What?” Ianto asked, still watching the patronus. 

“What have you found, Professor?” she deflected.

“Qualities of the black panther include strength, ferocity, intelligence, courage, grace, and intuition.  It is a protector, at heart.  Able to move swiftly in the night, shrouded by the moon, which is in turn a symbol of part of this creature’s mystery.”

“See?” Ianto smiled at Jack, recognizing all of those qualities in his lover.  “That’s all you.”

As the others protested the omission inherent in that statement, Jack returned Ianto’s smile with fond exasperation, knowing the younger man’s thoughts and realizing that he did not recognize those qualities as his own.

“Loved for its noble qualities but feared for its might,” Professor Dankworth continued, “it often walks alone.  Able to be silent and still, it is known for its introspection.”

“See?” Jack pointed out.  “When have you ever known me to be silent or still?”

Ianto blinked.  “Well, I’ve never known you to fall off any of those buildings you’re so fond of ruminating on.”

Jack’s mouth opened in surprise, but he had no response to that.  He pointed a finger at Ianto and began to say something, but his mouth snapped shut again when Ianto added, “And being shoved off a building doesn’t count!”

Dankworth looked from one to the other, realizing what Luna had concluded, and continued, “Secrecy, mysticism, and sexuality are defining characteristics, as are its craving for knowledge.”

“Ha!” both men exclaimed, each pointing at the other.

The others began laughing.

“Above all,” Dankworth concluded, raising his voice to be heard above the laughter, “it is a symbol of transformation.”

“Oh, Smoke,” Luna sighed.  Then she gave a start and looked over at Ginny.  “Can we still call him that?” she asked, as though it were a real dilemma.

Ginny strode over, faced the patronus, pulled out her wand, and reached out as though touching the wand to its right shoulder.  “I hereby dub thee ‘Smoke’,” she said, moving the wand to touch the patronus’ left shoulder, as well.  She turned to Luna and grinned.  “Sorted.”

“Sorted,” Luna laughed, and they both turned to Ianto, who had to fight the impulse to take a step back under their unified scrutiny.  The patronus shifted slightly and gave its tail a flick, a minor reflection of Ianto’s unease.

“What?” he asked again.

***

[1]The Crazy Nastyass Honey Badger (original narration by Randall) - YouTube.  Just pretend it came out before August of 2007…