Fandoms: Torchwood, Harry Potter

Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones (technically Harry Potter)

Prompt: Ianto loses his memory. The last thing he remembers is being Harry Potter.

Prompt Made By: I. H. Scribe

Disclaimer: I don't own the following series(es) or any character(s) that follow, and unless I. H. Scribe is listed after Prompt Made By chances are I don't own the idea for this story either.

Jack paced back and forth outside the autopsy bay. Owen was cleaning up after finally getting Ianto's head to stop bleeding and stitching the wound. Jack glanced at Owen every few seconds but remained silent. Finally, Owen nodded to him and went into Jack's office.

"How is he?" Jack asked.

"He'll live. Until he wakes up we won't know the effect on his mental state, but physically he'll be fine in a few weeks." Jack nodded.

"Tell me the second he wakes up."

"You got it," Owen said, before returning to the autopsy bay. A few hours later a paler-than-usual Owen walked back into his office.

"Ianto?" Jack asked, his head going through a thousand scenarios at once, each worse than the last, at the look on the doctor's face.

"He woke up, but he claims not to be Ianto."

"Did you-" Owen cut him off before he could finish the question.

"Checked everything from his blood to his aura. Ianto Jones is definitely the one in my autopsy bay. He just doesn't remember being him."

"Who does he remember being?"

"Says his name is Harry, and that he's only seventeen. Wants to know if everything worked out at something, but he caught himself before he said what exactly it was, and he's remained tight-lipped since."

"How tight-lipped?"

"He's cooperative, answers my questions with a lot of basic information, but no details."

"I want to see him." Owen nodded, and the two of them headed towards the autopsy bay. Ianto-Harry was looking at his reflection in one of Owen's mirrors. He glanced at them when they walked in.

"Can you tell if I'm wearing contacts?" Ianto-Harry asked.

"Sure, c'mere," Owen said. "What makes you think you're wearing contacts?"

"I'm not wearing glasses but I can see, and my eyes are blue instead of green."

"Huh, you are. You want 'em out? Wait, how well can you see without 'em?"

"As I currently can't remember how, yes, and only a few feet in front of me clearly. Everything else is blurry."

"Alright," Owen said. "Hold still. No wonder you keep 'em hidden. You'd get all the bloody birds if you didn't." Ianto-Harry blushed, and Owen moved away to put the contacts in a dish, letting Jack see Ianto-Harry's eyes for the first time. He whistled making Ianto-Harry's blush grow darker.

The last thing Harry could consciously remember was coming back from the dead with Narcissa Malfoy leaning over him. He had quick flashes of things afterwards but that was it. Then, he woke to a doctor who called him Ianto. The doctor left shortly after he woke up, and came back a few minutes later with another man.

"So," the other man said, after wolf-whistling at his eyes. "Any idea how you became Ianto Jones?"

"Not a bloody clue," Harry answered. "And what accent am I speaking with?"

"Welsh."

"Hmm. I like it."

"So do I."

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to flirt with someone without introducing yourself first?"

"My apologies. Captain Jack Harkness," he held out his hand as he said his name.

"Harry Potter," Harry said, as he offered his own and they shook. "Exactly how old am I?"

"Twenty-six," the doctor said. "And I'm Dr. Owen Harper. You are to follow all my orders."

"Within reason," Harry said. "Is it really 2006 already?" Jack and Owen both looked at him strangely.

"It's 2009," Owen said. Harry frowned.

"You said I was twenty-six. I was born July 31, 1980. That makes it 2006."

"Your file says you were born 1983."

"So I changed my eye color, my name, my age, and my accent. I guess that half-thought plan of getting away from everyone got a little better thought through." Harry felt sick. "I'd like very much to go home. Wherever home is. Where do I live? How do I get there from here?"

"I'll get your address from your file. Owen, check and make sure he's cleared to drive." Jack left, presumably to find Harry's file – or would that be Ianto's file?

"I don't want you driving," Owen said. "If Jack won't take you home, and stay with you I will. Here, pain meds for the hellish headache you'll have once the ones in you stop working. If your head starts hurting too badly or you feel woozy or sick, tell someone."

"I wouldn't want me driving either – can't remember how. I already feel a little sick, but I think that's because I don't know anything about, well, me."

"Got it," Jack said.

"He's not cleared to drive, and if you take him home you have to stay with him, to make sure his head wound doesn't cause any more problems."

"Are you able to stay here for the night if I can get Tosh to relieve you around midnight?"

"Works for me."

"Alright then. C'mon, Ian, uh, Harry." Harry remained quiet as Jack led him to his car, but took the time to look around. When they got in the car, he turned to Jack.

"Where the bloody hell do I work?" he asked, incredulously. Jack started laughing.

As always, I am accepting prompts, however, I am not accepting prompts through reviews. If you wish to give me a prompt, please see the Accepting Prompts section of my profile for instructions. Thank you.

I. H. Scribe