Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

At the Town Line

Heartbroken, Rumpelstiltskin watched as Belle spun on her heel and stalked back to town. She held her head high, limping in those ridiculous shoes she always wore, acting like she was some noble knight off to fight a dragon; except the dragon was defeated and the knight was being a self-righteous prat about it.

He knew why she was angry, of course. He'd gone too far. His anxiety and desperation were all consuming, and no matter how much he was conflicted, he couldn’t stop his plans. The very idea of anyone touching the dagger was too much. Even Belle.

As it turned out, especially Belle.

Gritting his teeth, Rumple stood and hobbled toward the woods. He needed a cane or he would never make it to the nearest gas station. While he didn’t fancy the walk, crawling the entire way was definitely unappealing.

Upon closer inspection, there were no low hanging branches near the road. The trees themselves were tall and foreboding; not the least bit inviting. Uneasily Rumple searched the sides of the road, hoping a storm had scattered debris. He didn’t like the idea of entering the forest without a cane. Nobody knew for sure what kind of dangerous creatures lurked there. The surrounding forest had always felt a bit dark and mysterious, much like the Enchanted Forest. Without his magic, he would prefer to stay on the road.

Finally, Rumple spotted a large branch twenty yards from the tree line. Hobbling over, he picked it up. Pulling out his pocket knife, he quickly stripped the bark and twigs; slightly smoothing the top to avoid splinters. Rumple sighed, inspecting his new walking stick with an uncritical eye as he slipped his knife back into his pocket.

With each passing moment, the voices in his mind were growing louder. It was unnerving. And considering that the voices had been silent the last time he left Storybrooke, disconcerting. He racked his brain trying to understand the difference, but he couldn’t focus. The voices kept goading him, telling him he was never going to be good enough for Belle or Henry.

That he was a failure.

Swallowing, Rumple shook his head and began putting one foot in front of the other. Physical pain tended to keep the voices away, and it was going to be a long walk to the gas station. As he hobbled down the road, he kept replaying Belle’s last words.

She had called him a beast.

Wincing, Rumple kept walking, contemplating his situation. Was he really that terrible for wanting to be separated from the dagger? For wanting to be free from compulsion? Even his own wife had used the dagger against him twice, yet nobody seemed worried that he was so easily controlled.

Maybe they wanted him that way.

Gritting his teeth, Rumple fought against his spiraling thoughts. Distracted, he didn’t notice how far from the town line he’d traveled until a sharp, blinding pain slammed into his skull. Stumbling, Rumple fell to his knees, a woman’s screams ringing in his ears. An evil green light exploded behind his eyes as a life’s worth of memories burst into his mind; worsening the pain. Blackness surrounded Rumpelstiltskin as he collapsed in the middle of the road, helpless against the torrent of memories that engulfed him.

He opened his eyes and found himself standing in the middle of a wooded clearing. As he frantically glanced around, his eyes landed on a young woman. She couldn't have been more than seventeen or eighteen years old. She stood perfectly frozen; her shoulders thrown back and her head held high in defiance. He turned to see who she was confronting and gasped in horror.

He was more monster than man. Despite the black hood that shrouded his face, Rumple could see his complexion was colorless. The skin on the monster’s face was stretched tightly across his cheekbones and his nose was flat and snakelike. He was crouched slightly, his wand at the ready, and his reptilian crimson eyes emanated malice. Rumple was struck by how closely he resembled the Dark One. As he scrutinized the monster, he felt his mouth grow dry as his eyes lingered on the monster’s cheekbones and shoulders. Despite obvious differences between them, all he could see was himself.

It was like a punch to the gut.

Looking at the girl, Rumple saw that she was short. Even shorter than he was, and he was not a tall man. She wore a simple white dress covered in dirt, sweat, and blood, the fabric ripped in several places. Her long black hair was filled with sticks and debris and she was barefoot. Yet, she had the most determined expression he had ever seen. Her eyes drew him in, a piercing emerald green that glowed with magic. A shiver ran down Rumple’s spine.

“Harry,” He whispered, realizing he knew her, “Harriet Potter.”

He turned and limped to the other version of himself. With each step he remembered; the orphanage, Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts, learning magic, the basilisk, hating muggles, learning mind magic, making horcruxes, feeling less and less human, emptiness, the dark mark, his death eaters, war, pain, hate, RAGE!

The world spun in a sickening twirl and Rumpelstiltskin fell to his knees, head between his hands, keening, “No, no, no, no!”

He finally understood why the dark magic felt like an extension of himself. Why the corruption didn’t affect him as it had the other Dark Ones.

Because it was him.

Rumpelstiltskin was the Dark One, and the Dark One was Rumpelstiltskin. He had been split down the middle and the two aspects of himself, the man and the monster, had been sent from this world to another.

How the hell could that have happened?

The pain in his head ebbed away, allowing him to stand. Glancing around, he saw that he was still in the middle of the deserted road to Storybrooke, five miles from the town line. His magic swirled around; no longer restricted to Storybrooke. Had magic ever been? Or was it the belief that this was the Land Without Magic that had kept them from accessing it? Either way, Rumple had no idea what he was going to do. He was barred from Storybrooke and he was not safe in this world.

As he stood, he felt his ankle pinch and he instinctively placed his hand on his leg, allowing his magic to flow downwards to ease his pain. Sighing, he pitched his makeshift cane into the woods and looked back toward Storybrooke.

He was a Beast; that much was clear. Too much of a Beast for his Beauty. While he knew he was different from the monster he had been, he still wasn’t a whole man.

Why was he even alive?

Bae should have left him in that vault. Belle should have stopped him when she realized something was wrong, and Regina should never have taken Emma and Henry’s memories away. Everything was fucked and there was no fixing it. The one good thing he had done, dying for that damn town, was ruined.

Zelena had destroyed any progress toward the light he’d made, Belle had his dagger and Merlin knew what she would do with it, and now Henry was alone with Captain Hook. A Captain Hook he had almost killed. A Captain Hook that would turn his grandson against him. A Captain Hook that had made no progress toward bettering himself, yet everyone accepted.

Tears flowed freely down his face as he turned his back toward Storybrooke and headed toward the uncertainty of the Land of Hidden Magic. He had no limp to remind him of who he used to be and he had no love to keep him from the Darkness. He had nothing.

Nothing but the certainty of who he’d been and the disgust of what he was.

He hated himself.

He didn’t want to be here.

He wanted to die.

Rumpelstiltskin cast a glance towards the woods, eyes narrowing into the darkness, before darting forward; wracking his brain to remember if he had ever seen a map. He had no idea where the woods would take him, but he suspected there was a cliff nearby. As he ran, limbs and branches tore at his suit and he felt his leg twinge with every step. His shoes scuffed his feet, rubbing the skin raw. Moonlight shone ahead, urging Rumple to burst into a mad dash. He wanted to find the cliff before he lost his nerve. Quickly, he reached the tree line and skidded to a stop. Looking down, he saw nothing but a dark chasm and a river winding its way through the dark forest far below.

He could jump.

Would it kill him in the Land of Hidden Magic?

Would it paralyze him?

Was this the coward’s way out?

Did he care?

He took a deep breath and thought of his son. The only person in any of his lives that he’d loved fully and without reservation. He thought of Milah and how she broke him. He thought of Cora and how she’d chosen power over him; ripping her own heart out in the process. He thought of his sweet Belle, of how certain he’d been that she was his True Love. His parents had abandoned him for power and eternal youth. The spinners he’d lived with only pitied him.

And then there was Henry Mills.

His own grandson didn’t seem to care if they had a relationship; referring to him as Mr. Gold. Rumple had wanted to address it, but was too afraid Henry would refuse to call him Grandpa to say anything. It would have broken his heart even more if Henry had rejected him.

Funny, he used to pride himself on not having one.

Thinking of the vast difference between Rumpelstiltskin and Lord Voldemort, he laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed and when he couldn’t laugh anymore.

He jumped.

Storybrooke

2 months later

Ruby was getting tired of Hook’s bullshit. Every morning he and Emma came to the diner for coffee and breakfast, and every morning he kept staring down her blouse. Normally, she would have said something by this point, but Emma had witnessed his behavior and never said a word. Her smile would tighten, her eyes would narrow, but she would always look away. It hurt, knowing Emma overlooked his poor behavior, but not enough to lose a friend over it. She was used to poor treatment from men.

Strangely, it took Dr. Hopper intervening for the issue to be addressed.

“Would you please stop staring at Ruby like a piece of meat, Captain,” Archie scolded as he paid for his breakfast, “She is a human being.”

Hook looked surprised as he glanced over his shoulder, which quickly turned to embarrassment then anger.

“Why don’t you say that to my face?” Hook snarled, shifting toward Archie as he drew himself up to his full height. Emma did nothing as the pirate captain tried to intimidate the town's conscience.

“You heard me correctly the first time,” Archie calmly replied. Bemused, he tilted his head, and asked, “Are you trying to threaten me?”

Hook froze as he realized what he was doing. Looking away, he pursed his lips as his face twisted in unease. The psychiatrist supposed the Captain seemed contrite, yet his slips back into his uncouth, pirate behavior were becoming tiresome.

Glancing at Emma, Archie said, “Really Sheriff, I understand he is your boyfriend, but you do need to say something. His behavior is appalling.”

He paused, watching as Emma’s face turned pale with horrified embarrassment as she glanced between Archie and Hook.

“Especially as I could still press charges against him for kidnapping, unlawful imprisonment, and torture.”

Emma couldn’t say anything. All she was able to do was sputter before running out of the diner, Hook calling after her, “Swan, wait!”

“Thank you for that.” Ruby said as they basked in their small victory.

Archie watched Emma and Hook arguing across the street, before he thoughtfully said. “Since Rumpelstiltskin was banished, people act like they can do whatever they want. It’s been terrible of late.”

“You mean the villains?” Ruby pressed, wanting to make sure they were on the same page before she voiced her opinion.

“No,” Archie replied, glancing at Ruby, “I mean the heroes too. They act as if everything they do is just and right. When in reality everything they do is…flawed.”

Ruby sighed and sagged against the table, “Thank god, I’m not the only one that thinks so. It seems like everyone is perfectly happy with letting the heroes do whatever they want.”

Ruby continued, babbling, “I mean, if Rumpelstiltskin can get banished, what is stopping them from doing the same thing to anyone else? He saved the whole town and he’s basically invincible!”

“There should have been a trial. He did try to kill Hook. Despite my dislike for the pirate, that is against the law.” Archie grimaced, “Although, he probably would have gotten off.”

“Not that it would have hurt a lot of people’s feelings, “Ruby whispered dryly, “I don’t think they realize just how many people dislike Hook and prefer Rumpelstiltskin.” Ruby paused and glanced at Granny.

“I mean he was mean and prickly a lot of the time, but we were all used to him,” Ruby amended, “Plus he would always step in before things got too…. intense.”

“Unless he made them that way,” Archie replied, thinking of the wraith Gold had sent after Regina.

“I much prefer his controlled chaos to Regina’s rage,” Ruby said as she surveyed the room, worried someone would overhear them.

“That is true,” Archie replied, “It was always nice to know that he would be there to curb the worst of Regina. Or push the heroes in the right direction.”

They fell into a companionable silence before Archie whispered, “I called him.”

“What,” Ruby whispered back, leaning forward, “What did he say?”

“I couldn’t get through,” Archie replied, obviously distraught, “I’ve tried calling at varying times but no answer. It rings, but always goes to voicemail.”

Ruby bit her lip, “Maybe he doesn’t have his cell?”

Archie shook his head, “Even if he had left it, he would have already bought a new one. In case Henry or Belle called.”

“I’m not sure he would answer for Belle,” Ruby muttered, “Not after the banishment.”

“I….” Archie began but another large group walked into the diner, reminding him of the time. Ruby would soon need to go back to work. Impulsively he said, “Come to my office. We can talk more there.”

Ruby nodded and agreed, “I’ll be there at noon.”

Distractedly, Archie agreed and quickly exited the diner. He was worried about Rumpelstiltskin. Before the unfortunate trouble with Peter Pan, Gold had been making significant progress toward bettering himself. There had been a few small break-throughs, in regards to his obsession with his son and its origins. He’d been doing well and Archie had felt that maybe they could focus on some of his control issues when Henry was abducted. Soon after, Gold had sacrificed himself for the town.

After discovering Zelena had captured him, Archie had been frantic with worry. He knew that Gold’s already fragile mental state and the loss of his son would push him further away from any progress they’d made. Which would then push him further into the darkness. To make matters worse, Belle had been in his office constantly, crying about Rumple's impressment, but unwilling to do much towards saving him. She seemed content to do whatever the heroes wanted, leaving Gold in Zelena’s clutches for far too long.

After Zelena was defeated, Archie had waited for him to resume their sessions, but Gold never had. Worried, Archie began calling periodically to check in. Rumpelstiltskin always answered and would always speak with him. Archie tried treating Gold like every other client, but it was hard. Rumpelstiltskin desperately needed a friend, and he obviously wasn’t going to get one from the heroes. Not that he really blamed the Nolan’s for their standoffish relationship with Gold. He understood their anger. Gold had separated them from their daughter and aided in creating the Dark Curse. However they had built a relationship with Regina for Henry’s sake, the person who had actually cast the dark curse, killing the one she loved the most; her own father.

During his conversations with Gold, he discovered that Zelena had made him suffer far more than the others suspected. It had been a horrible realization when he finally understood what Rumple wasn’t saying. He still couldn’t be sure what had happened between them, but he could imagine. Zelena had complete control over him and there wasn’t anything Gold could have done about it.

It hadn’t surprised him when Zelena was found dead. However, what had surprised him was the evidence that she’d killed herself. He knew it was fake. Why anyone would believe Gold was innocent, was a mystery. She killed his son and controlled his every movement for over a year. She was a dead woman as soon as Gold had control of his dagger.

Another unpleasant surprise had been Rumpelstiltskin's decision to lie to Belle. Their relationship breaking down was disappointing. If Archie had even an inkling about their problems, he never would have married them. He always felt protective of all of his patients, but for some reason he felt even more so for Rumpelstiltskin.

Maybe it was because he so desperately wanted to be good. Maybe it was because he seemed to be filled with so much love and devotion. A devotion that just needed a proper outlet. Archie had thought it could be Belle, but it seemed that without his son he was lost, and not even True Love could save him.

Frustrated, Archie opened the door to his office and threw himself into his chair. He needed to focus on his current patients, but it was hard when he knew someone needed his help.

Ruby was more annoyed with her morning shift than usual. Everyone at the dinner seemed to be on edge today; annoyed with town leadership. Since the Spell of Shattered Sight, petty differences and minor arguments between former heroes and villains were starting to get heated, causing problems among the residents. Just last week Ella and Thomas were arguing with Drizella about side street parking. Now mysterious dead animals were appearing on their lawn. More specially, the mice and birds that Ella fed. When Ella went to speak with Emma about it, she was nowhere to be found.

Poor David was trying to take care of the office and all the outgoing complaints, but he needed help and Ruby knew it was useless going to Regina. Not even her secretary could find her. If she hadn’t constantly been with Emma people would have assumed she had disappeared with Rumpelstiltskin.

“I wish they would just fuck already,” Grumpy growled as he drank his coffee.

“I don’t think that’s it, Grumpy,” Ruby muttered as she refilled his coffee for the third time.

“No?” Grumpy grunted.

He recently made sure everyone knew that Leroy was his townie name and he wouldn’t answer to it. Not that Grumpy was much better in Ruby’s opinion, but it wasn’t her business.

Arguments over what names to call each other were breaking out all over town causing nothing but hard feelings and chaos. The whole town was at each other’s throats and with nobody at the helm, Ruby couldn’t help but fear for Storybrooke.

“No,” Ruby said a bit more firmly, “She’s still obsessing over Hook.”

“Ugh,” Grumpy muttered, “What’s up with her and villains?”

“No clue, but honestly, I don’t think it’s our business.”

“She’s the Savior,” Grumpy snapped, “Not to mention the Sheriff. If she can’t be objective, where does that leave us?”

Ruby said nothing. It wasn’t like he was wrong, but she very much wished to change the subject. She’d been thinking herself in circles all morning as she tried to analyze their problem from all angles. The only conclusion she could make was that Rumpelstiltskin was the only one that could conceivably keep everyone in check.

They needed him back.

Looking at the clock, Ruby yanked her apron off and yelled at Granny that she was taking her lunch. She almost made it out of the diner when she literally ran into Belle. Muttering a quick, “sorry” she shot out the door. She didn't want to listen to Belle as she moaned and groaned about Will Scarlet. She had heard more about that relationship than she cared for. As someone who’d still not found her true love, she found it grating how easily Belle fell in and out of love.

Not that Ruby could judge. Her cursed-self had been very affectionate with other people. Yet, she had never been in love. Belle had; according to her. Yet two months after her separation from her husband and supposed True Love, Belle thought it was possible that Will was “the one.” Those two things did not compute for Ruby. If Belle wanted to embrace her inner Lacey and have fun, then good on her, but she didn’t like seeing people so easily replaced. In her opinion, that was what Belle was doing, replacing a man that was hard to love with someone she could fix.

Knocking on Archie’s door, she waited for the “please come in” and quickly sat on the couch. When she’d been cursed, she’d often come here to try and curb her nymphomaniac tendencies, but she never could. Of course, that was more to do with the curse than her own proclivities, but it never stopped her from feeling slightly embarrassed.

“So, what are we going to do?” Ruby asked.

Archie just sighed in frustration and leaned forward. Technically, it was unethical to be so casual with a former patient, but Storybook was cut off from the rest of the world, making it impossible to treat everyone as he ought.

“I’m not sure there is anything we can do,” He said as he was looking through a notebook, scanning the pages before moving quickly to the next one.

“Rumpelstiltskin is not answering his phone, text or email,” Archie continued, "None of the others mention him. Belle has moved on to another man and nobody seems to know what to do with Gold’s dagger.”

He paused before carefully saying, “Henry hasn’t said a word either.”

“Should we even do anything?” Ruby asked with a frustrated sigh, “I mean Gold is an asshole and would probably sell us out if it furthered his agenda. Why the fuck are we worried?”

“We have a soft spot for him,” Archie quietly offered, “I know that I rather like him. He has always made me feel valued and listened to. People have overlooked me ever since we were forced back into Storybrooke, even after the curse was broken. He never has.”

Ruby was quiet and nodded in agreement, “Gold is very good at making people feel valued. He never discounts anyone’s potential.”

Archie shut the book in frustration. Ruby bit her lip. She knew what needed to be done, but wasn’t sure how Archie would feel about it.

“We need to see the Sorcerer’s Apprentice.”

Archie flinched and looked away. It hadn’t occurred to him to seek the Apprentice’s council. He mostly kept away from magic users, Rumpelstiltskin notwithstanding. He had too many close calls with Regina and her ilk to feel safe around them. It also didn’t help that everyone in the town was incredibly nosey. He knew rumors would start as soon as someone saw them with the Apprentice. Archie would rather have the Dark One back in town before anyone knew he was involved with his reappearance.

“We should probably visit him after hours,” Archie replied after a moment of contemplative silence, “We wouldn’t want anyone to figure out our plan.”

Ruby nodded. If people knew what they intended, someone would try and stop them. She would defend herself if pushed, but she would rather not hurt anyone. There were many heroes and villains that had been glad about the banishment. With Gold gone, they no longer had to worry about being blackmailed. Many of them would do desperate things to keep Rumpelstiltskin out of town.

However the rest of the townspeople, the “small folk” as they used to be called, had been rather anxious about his banishment. Under the guise of certain charities and grants, Gold had been helping the less fortunate. Now Dove was in charge, but if the gossip could be believed, there were things he simply couldn’t do without Belle’s permission and she refused to even speak to him.

Archie looked at his watch. It would soon be time for his next patient and he didn’t want to keep him waiting. However, he was conflicted. He knew that he wanted to help Rumpelstiltskin, but he also knew to do so would mean drawing on skills he had tried hard to forget. He didn’t want to be Jiminy again, but it was becoming obvious that nobody in Storybrooke could live completely innocent lives. In order to do what was right, Archie would need to make peace with who he’d been.

“I’ll see you around ten this evening,” Ruby said as she stood, noticing the time. Granny would need her back as soon as possible. The more disgruntled the town became, the busier the diner.

Still deep in thought, Archie nodded and walked her out of his office. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Storybrooke was going to implode without some sort of intervention. Gold was their only option. He only hoped they weren’t too late.

Chapter Text

London

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Harriet screamed as she sat up in bed, her hand clutching her forehead as her heart pounded wildly in her ears. When she pulled it back, she felt something warm and sticky. Flipping on her bedside lamp, she saw her hand was covered in blood.

In her haste to stand, she fell out of the bed; bleary eyed and confused. She staggered into the bathroom, shakily flipping on the overhead light. Looking at her reflection, she saw that her forehead was dripping blood. Eyes wide, she froze in shock as she watched the blood trail down her face. Fumbling for a washcloth, she gently wiped the blood away with shaking hands revealing a red, welted, and extremely painful scar. She stared at her reflection in horror, sobs beginning to wrack her body, as she stumbled backward into the corner of the bathroom. Sinking to the floor, she wrapped her arms around her legs and began rocking back and forth. It had been twelve years since her scar had hurt, but even then, it had never bled.

Every night for the past two months she had horrific, disturbing nightmares. She was always prone to them, especially when drunk. They started off as random flashes of shapes and shadows that made very little sense. Yet as time passed, they became clearer, darker, more disturbing until it was obvious that she was dreaming of killing herself.

Some nights she dreamed of overdoses, suffocation, hanging. Yet others were far more gruesome; stabbings, shootings, car wrecks. The nightmare with the cannon made her throw up for hours, prompting her into a downward spiral of drinking and abusing sleeping potions. All in an attempt to stop the nightmares. She thought if she could get her mind to rest then they would go away, but nothing seemed to help. They invaded her mind, worsening as the weeks passed and she began to fear she was suicidal again.

“Not that anyone would care if I were gone,” Harriet muttered, sobbing as she huddled in the corner of her bathroom. She knew she was just an unpleasant reminder of a war that most everyone wanted to forget. Her popularity had grown stale, even before the Ministry had enforced drastic changes.

Soon after the war, pureblood ideology became forbidden in Britain. Being pureblood, half-blood, or muggleborn no longer mattered. The war with Voldemort had highlighted just how dangerous pureblood ideology could be. Nobody wanted to be seen indulging in pureblood supremacy. It had been a positive, thrilling change. One that Harriet could be proud of. She started working for the Ministry excited about the Wizarding World’s future. But the prejudice wasn’t gone, it was still there, festering under the surface, needing an outlet. Wizards lived far too long to let things go easily. It wasn’t long before wizardkind supremacy became actively encouraged.

As always when she spiraled, Harriet’s thoughts turned to the past, dwelling on things she had no hope of changing. Blaming herself for not doing more, she sobbed harder as her thoughts turned toward the terrible changes that the Ministry had enacted.

Werewolves had officially been banned from attending Hogwarts, stripped of their rights to carry a wand. They were confined to the wilds of Scotland behind heavy wards designed to keep them in one place. They couldn’t even leave the country without special permission and the Ministry never gave special permission. The only exception had been Remus Lupin.

Due to his service for the Order of Phenix and his association with Harriet, he was allowed to live outside the wards at 12 Grimmauld Place. However, the Ministry had degreed that Remus and Teddy were both Harriet’s wards. He had no rights to his son or his life. Should he hurt someone, Remus would be separated from his son, and Teddy would be shipped off to his muggle relatives. No contact would ever be allowed between them again.

Once that decision had been made, the floodgates of prejudice had opened. Vampires and hags were restricted to the moors; causing an uproar in the Society for the Tolerance of Vampires. People were concerned, until the Ministry pointed out that they were being punished for siding with Lord Voldemort; that they were dangerous and needed to be managed.

It mollified wizardkind for a time. Many witches and wizards proclaimed that human safety was more important than magical beings' rights. It wasn’t until the Ministry began regulating more “acceptable” beings that people began to grow concerned.

House-elves were no longer allowed to stay free, they had to go to the Ministry for reassignment. Boundary wards were put in place to keep the giants and trolls in the mountains, pushing them to become more violent as their territory shrank. Veela’s were no longer allowed to intermarry with wizards, forcing many families to flee the country.

To everyone’s surprise, the Ministry had left the goblins alone. They didn’t repeal the outdated laws that governed goblinkind, but neither did they take privileges away. Harriet knew it was because the Ministry didn’t have the manpower or inclination to deal with another goblin revolt. Many goblins were on par with wizards, and another revolt from them would have decimated the Ministry.

Then they had turned their attention to half-humans, forcing them on a registry. For those that refused, they were made to live with their non-human family; banned from ever leaving Britain. It was straight from Dolores Umbridge’s playbook, and it left Harriet bewildered as to how the Ministry could be so prejudiced.

She wiped her dripping nose on her sleeve, sniffing hard, as Harriet remembered that Albus had tried to stop the half-human persecution. But it had taken all his considerable influence to keep Severus Snape, Draco Malfoy, and himself out of Azkaban. Even with all his power, Albus had suffered from the fickleness of public opinion. Many people truly believed he’d abandoned them. Nobody cared that he’d been completely indisposed in a glass coffin; fighting a deadly poison that could have killed him. All they cared about was that he’d left them to fight alone. It was only the deeds of his past that allowed him to reestablish himself as the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

Harriet had opposed the changes every step of the way; constantly arguing with Ministry officials. They allowed her dissenting opinion only because of her popularity. As if having the famous Harry Potter working for them gave credence to their prejudices. However, when she’d given an unsanctioned interview with the Quibbler, they fired her for insubordination. The Minister had been so happy, he’d even done it himself. Still, Harriet had been stubborn and vowed she wouldn’t stop fighting until someone listened. She began giving more interviews and organizing rallies to try and gather support. It would have worked too, but then the Minister had threatened to separate Remus and Teddy. She had no choice but to stop.

That’s when the drinking started.

It wasn’t a lot at first. Just drinks when she “needed it”. It took a long time for her to admit it was a problem. Such a problem that Remus had asked her to separate 12 Grimmauld Place into two separate apartments so Teddy didn’t have to see his “aunty” drunk all the time.

That had been a slap in the face. For which, she responded by slapping him in his face. Of course, that had been the wrong thing to do. While Remus was normally a mild mannered man, the week before a full moon caused many werewolves to be on edge, to become more animalistic. Yet, it had never been an issue between them before. There were angry words every now and again but nothing noticeable. It had come at a complete surprise when he’d kissed her.

She hadn’t seen it coming.

He never once mentioned his attraction to her. Nor had he ever acted in a way that she would have considered romantic. Yet the kiss had been possessive, animal, and bruising. Even now, she could still remember how his lips had felt against hers and the moan of pleasure he’d elicited from her. She remembered how he’d growled in response and how tightly he had pressed his body against hers. For one moment, everything had been perfect.

Then he pulled away, looking absolutely horrified.

Harriet’s sobs turned stronger, deeper, more pained as she remembered how he fled from her. How he avoided speaking to her unless it’d been about Teddy. Harriet had been heart-sick. His kiss had awakened something inside her. A part of herself that she’d denied for so long. She finally understood what she needed and had wanted to share that with Remus.

A month passed before Harriet had finally cornered him. She had gone to pick him up from work and stumbled upon him kissing another woman. She'd been shocked, angry, but had waited until the woman was out of sight before she’d confronted him.

“What the hell Remus!”

“H..H…Harriet?” Remus had stuttered.

“What the fuck is the matter with you!” Harriet had hissed, dangerously close to slipping into parseltongue, “First you kiss me, then you avoid me for a fucking month, and now I find out you have a girlfriend?”

Uncaring about muggles or Ministry rules, she'd turned on her heel and apparited to their home. She had just started stomping up the stairs when Remus had yelled for her to stop. He’d run after her, reaching out to grab her arm, when the rage and hurt she felt for the past month had exploded and she’d swung at him; only to be pinned against the wall, his lips inches from hers.

“Stop it, Harriet!” Remus had snarled, “What if Teddy had seen?”

“He’s with Mrs. Weasley,” Harriet had hissed, “Do you think I would’ve left him alone? I know you have a low opinion of me, but give me some credit Remus!”

He’d moved away from her then, crossing his arms tightly over his chest; refusing to even look her in the eye, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Elizabeth. It just started and I wanted to see if it was serious before I let you know.”

“What happened to kissing me?” Harriet had heartbrokenly asked, “Was I really that bad?”

Remus had stared at his shoes, “I’m sorry about that Harriet. That was my fault as a werewolf.”

“What does that mean?” Harriet had whined, much to her chagrin.

“You are a dominant female,” Remus had said, finally looking at her in embarrassment, “And I’m a dominant male. My wolf wants you to be its mate.”

“I take it you don’t,” Harriet had dully responded, trying to understand what Remus wasn’t saying, “That your instincts are to mate with me but you don’t actually want to.”

Remus had pressed his lips together, putting space between them.

Harriet had frowned, snarling, “Fine. Don’t tell me a fucking thing.”

She’d turned to leave, when Remus had said, “And that’s why I hesitate.”

She’d glanced over her shoulder as Remus finally told her what everyone had been thinking, “You’re a drunk, Harriet. You’re bitter. And you’re changeable.”

She had just stared at him, blinking back tears. Remus had continued with barely contained frustration, “It doesn’t help that you're my best friend’s daughter and twenty years younger than me. But you are so good with Teddy and our arrangement is such that I could overlook that.”

Remus had sighed and cupped her cheek, pulling her close.

“But I can’t overlook the drinking. I can’t overlook how you’re beginning to pull away from Teddy and I. How unstable you’re becoming.”

He had laid his forehead against hers, sighing in regret.

“I do care for you Harriet,” Remus had whispered, kissing her forehead softly, “I would have proudly called you my mate, my wife, had you just stopped drinking.”

Harriet hadn’t said anything after that, she couldn’t. Her heart had been slamming into her ribs and her stomach had been twisting in knots. She remembered feeling her heart break as she’d watched Remus pull away from her.

Even now, her heart was still broken beyond repair.

Feeling her stomach twist violently, Harriet lunged for the toilet and began dry heaving. She hated thinking about the past. Whenever she thought about her mistakes, she always felt ill. It had only gotten worse when she finally admitted the truth to herself. That if she had been paying attention, she might have recognized Remus’ feelings earlier. Maybe if she had, she would have recognized her own. Then her life might have been better.

Still, it hadn’t been all her fault. Remus had known how little experience she had with romance. Her relationship with Neville notwithstanding, she didn’t like to be touched. At Hogwarts, she hadn’t really noticed it. The constant emergencies and battles during her childhood had never given her much time to consider why her skin crawled every time someone touched her.

It wasn’t until she worked at the Ministry that her aversion to touch became obvious. Too many strangers were always slapping her back or shaking her hand. When her discomfort had combined with the daily stress of the job, she had often found herself snapping and growling at people to leave her alone. By the time she realized something was wrong, her reputation as a hot-blooded auror was set in stone.

Closing her eyes, Harriet laid her head on the porcelain seat and fought back tears as she remembered spending all night planning; determined that she would convince Remus to give her a chance. She had stopped drinking, truly believing she didn’t have a problem. She remembered how devastated she’d been when her hands began to shake barely twenty-four hours without a drink. She realized then that she was more dependent on alcohol than she’d realized.

The next day she waited for Remus to leave, went to find Teddy, and sent him to Mrs. Weasley. Without stopping to eat breakfast, Harriet had begun to separate the two apartments. Unfortunately, her alcohol withdrawal had made her magic unpredictable. Kreacher and Winky had been alarmed when they found her passed out in the new foyer. After giving her some water and toast, Harriet had finally felt well enough to explain what was wrong. Without needing further explanation, the two elves had quickly taken over. When Remus had come home from work that day, he had been confronted by a foyer and two separate apartments.

“Yours is on the left,” Harriet had said, standing in the middle of the foyer, sipping directly from a wine bottle, “You and Teddy have two bedrooms, a play room, a library, a bathroom, a kitchen and your own access to the yard. Not to mention a fair amount of storage space and a room for Winky.”

Remus’ face had been impassive as he watched her drink, his eyes sad, “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Harriet had replied, turning her back on Remus and opening her door, “Teddy’s at the Weasley’s. You might want to speak with them about babysitting since I can’t be trusted.”

She’d slammed the door then, but not before she’d seen the stricken look on Remus’ face. She’d been absurdly glad that she’d hurt him.

Harriet stood shakily and grabbed some toilet paper to wipe her mouth. She couldn’t help but remember how much worse the drinking had become after that. With nothing to fill her days, she soon began drinking all the time. Despite Kreacher’s insistence that she eat, she couldn't keep food down. Teddy would bang on her door, begging her to come play. And every night, between her own sobs she would hear Kreacher’s muffled crying.

For two months she’d hid in her apartment, never leaving. In her depression, she had used Kreacher to fetch her wine and whatever food she could stomach; forcing him to enable her. As a twisted version of self torment, she would just stare out the window and slowly drink glass after glass of wine, her mind intentionally fuzzy so she didn’t have to think about her situation. Finally, Kreacher could take no more; his fear for her safety driving him to disable the wards, allowing Hermione and Ron inside the small apartment.

Disturbed by her thoughts, Harriet stood and stumbled into the living room; wrinkling her nose. Glancing around, she realized she had designed herself a prison. While she’d spent time and thought on Remus’ and Teddy’s home, she had only given herself a two-bedroom apartment. It had a small kitchenette, a bedroom, a bathroom, and Kreacher’s living space. She had spent more thought on Kreacher’s own room than she had her own.

Swallowing, Harriet sat on the couch and held her head in her hands. She remembered that after Kreacher had dispelled the protective wards, he’d beaten himself over the head with a book while Winky tried to stop him. When Hermione had seen Harriet for the first time in months, she froze; shocked. Harriet’s hair had been a rat’s nest, her skin waxy, and she’d smelt of sweat, vomit, and wine. Ron had easily picked her off the floor, his voice shaking as he called her name.

“Where can we take her?” Ron had asked Hermione, who was sobbing into her hands.

“Is she even alive?” Hermione had been hysterical.

“Barely,” Ron had replied, shifting Harriet’s weight so he could check to see if she was breathing.

“Take her to Madame Pomfrey,” Hermione had finally said through her tears. Harriet remembered wanting to comfort her but she’d immediately passed out when Ron had apparited.

When she'd woken up, she had been in a private room in Hogwarts’s Hospital Wing. Dumbledore had been sitting by her bedside, reading the Daily Prophet. Glancing at her over his half-moon spectacles, he had folded his paper and sadly said, “It is good to see you awake, Harriet.”

“How long was I out?” Harriet had asked. She’d struggled to speak; her body extremely weak. Despite trying, she couldn’t even sit up.

“A week,” Dumbledore had said, watching her struggle, “Madame Pomfrey felt it best to keep you unconscious while the potions worked to reverse the damage to your body.”

“Damage?” Harriet had whispered.

“Your excessive drinking and lack of food almost killed you. The potions you were given were painful.”

Both were quiet for some time, then Albus had finally asked, “Why Harriet?”

She remembered a deep rage taking hold of her then. She had looked at the Headmaster and sneered, “Why not? I was raised to die, wasn’t I?”

Albus had looked devastated, but had never said a word in his own defense. He’d just looked away. Harriet’s rage had quickly dissipated, leaving only numbness in its wake.

A week later, she’d been released and Ron and Hermione had made her go to rehab. They were convinced she was trying to kill herself. That she needed some place to go and heal. They enrolled her into a muggle rehab and left her there for six months. Harriet hadn’t protested. She knew her friends were only trying to help; she’d gone hoping it would work.

It hadn’t.

Slowly, over time, all her friends distanced themselves from her; tired of the violence and self-flagellation. It was lucky that she had magic and money or she would have been homeless long ago. As it were, her last stint in rehab had severed her friendship with the Weasleys. They had told her if she drank again, they would have to cut ties with her, unable to watch her kill herself. It had caused something inside Harriet to break. Her magic had lashed out and broken every window in the Burrow.

“Then fucking leave me alone then!” Harriet had shouted, “If you can’t bare it, then fuck off! It was easy for you to watch the Dursleys abuse me. But God forbid if I abuse myself!”

Molly had sobbed, hiding her face while Mr. Weasley had yelled at her to get out. Harriet had flipped him off and made sure to blow the door off its hinges as she left; just to be petty.

After that, she had gone directly to Hogwarts and signed over guardianship of Remus and Teddy to Dumbledore. She’d known that if the Ministry had found out they would have been separated, but she hadn’t cared. She’d been done.

She’d called Ron and Hermione to tell them to leave her alone. That she wasn’t safe for the children to be around. Hermione had taken that harder than Ron, who was still angry at her for destroying the Burrow. She’d asked Kreacher if he wanted to be reassigned, but he had begged her to let him stay. She had agreed, but on one condition: that he wouldn’t ask anyone for help on her behalf.

“I’m going to kill myself, Kreacher,” Harriet had announced, “ Please let me go.”

Then she had taken a few bottles of wine into the bathroom and locked the door. He had cried and begged her to stop. Harriet had drunk bottle after bottle; desperately trying to become numb. She’d been done, ready to move on and go somewhere she was loved. When she was drunk enough, she took a knife and slit her wrists. She laid in the dry tub watching as the blood poured from her veins

It hadn’t worked. Her magical core was too used to keeping her alive to let her bleed out. It burnt off the alcohol just enough for her to feel the pain. Not wanting to die that way, she had stumbled out of the bathroom, smearing blood across her apartment, as she hunted for her blood replenishing potions. Kreacher rushed to her side and helped heal her wounds.

She had cried herself to sleep that night. There would be no easy way out for her. If she wanted to kill herself, she was going to have to try something else. Which, as it turned out, she hadn’t wanted to do. She was tired of hurting herself and her drinking binge had made her sick at the thought of alcohol.

For three months she was sober. It was the longest she’d ever gone without relapsing. She had just begun contemplating sending owls to everyone and asking for forgiveness when the nightmares had started. Then she stopped being able to sleep. Soon after that, she had begun drinking again. When she still couldn’t sleep, she had begun abusing sleeping potions. Finally, it had gotten to the point where Snape had stopped selling them to her and made sure nobody else would either.

So, she made them herself.

Harriet smiled faintly thinking about Severus’ reaction.

“Leave it to you Potter to finally learn potions when you are denied something; like the brat you are.” Snape had sneered when he came to check on her.

Being able to live his life on his own terms had calmed the dour potions master considerably. Slowly, with time and patience, they had struck up a friendship; something Harriet was always surprised existed but happy to know was possible. He’d finally seen her for herself, having been able to finally move on from his past.

“Well, if you had been a better teacher then maybe I would have learned sooner,” Harriet had snapped aggressively.

“Touché Potter,” Snape had conceded, giving her an evaluating look, “If you would stop drinking, then the potions might work. You look exhausted.”

“Do you think so?” Harriet had desperately whispered, “I mean, I tried but it didn’t seem to work.”

“Do it for a month,” Severus had suggested, frowning as he took in her appearance.

She remembered looking awful. There had been bags under her eyes. Her scar had been red and itchy. There were splotches on her face. She had even smelled.

“Okay,” Harriet had whispered, “I’ll do it.”

She had been true to her word. She had done everything exactly as Severus had told her, but nothing helped. Nothing kept the dreams away. With each passing day the nightmares had become more and more vivid. Soon, not only was she forced to watch her own suicide, but was forced to feel it as well.

Wiping the tears from her face, Harriet stood and went back to the bathroom, startled when she saw her reflection. The splotches on her face had worsened, her scar was still inflamed, and the bags under her eyes were so black it looked like someone had punched her. She looked far worse than she ever had when the Dursleys were starving her.

She fought her growing hysteria, as she swiped her hair from her face, flinching when her hand came into contact with her scar. This last nightmare had been the worst. As always, Harriet felt everything that had happened in the dream, as if she were the one doing it. She had gotten into a tub with her clothes on. She had picked up a toaster and turned it on; feeling its heat as she held it in her hands. The overhead lights had been almost unbearably bright, making her eyes feel slightly raw. She had filled the tub with water and had winced when her shoes had gotten wet. Then she looked at herself in the mirror.

But it hadn’t been her.

It had been a man, not much taller than herself. He wore a ragged suit so dirty she couldn’t tell what color it was. He looked painfully thin, with dark circles under his captivating eyes. They had been the loveliest shade of brown, full of sorrow and desperation. It had been quite the shock when they had dilated, shifting into a reptilian amber just before he dropped the toaster. The lights had flickered widely in the rundown bathroom as a scream shattered the eerie silence. She felt like she was being ripped apart and flung in different directions before she had woken up. Her stomach rolled again as she remembered the smell of burning flesh.

Harriet glanced at her scar, finally admitting what she’d been denying for weeks. Lord Voldemort was back. It was the only explanation for what was happening to her and her scar.

But how? He was dead and the man in her dreams looked nothing like the monster he’d been. Was Voldemort possessing people? Having them kill themselves and then moving on to the next host? And if so, why was she just now having nightmares about it? Was it some way of gaining power?

Quickly Harriet fled the bathroom, desperately searching through her book shelf for her photo album. Flipping to the back page, she yanked out an envelope and scattered the few pictures she found across her bed, gasping in horror.

All of them showed a younger version of the man in her nightmares. She was so used to the monstrous version of Voldemort, that she’d forgotten he’d once been a boy; a man.

Shivering with fear, Harriet picked up a photo of Tom Riddle at his Hogwarts graduation. There was no difference between the boy in the photo and the man in the nightmare, except in the eyes. Tom Riddle’s eyes were emotionless, dead, with only cold satisfaction swirling within their depths. The man from her nightmare, however, had the most expressive eyes she had ever seen. They had been so sad, desperate, and human. Numbly, Harriet dropped the picture on the bed.

“Does Mistress need Kreacher?” Kreacher asked as he watched his mistress stare into space. Jumping slightly, Harriet glanced his way and nodded.

“Please make some tea,” Harriet muttered, rubbing her eyes. She was so tired she felt like crawling out of her own skin, “I can’t sleep again, Kreacher.”

“Yes Mistress,” Kreacher replied, beginning to reach out to her, but thinking better of it. Lately, Kreacher had been trying to comfort her, but he could never make himself actually touch her. Instead he fussed around the house, trying to make her as comfortable as possible.

Harriet smiled at Kreacher, wanting to keep the little elf from worrying, but it disappeared as soon as he’d left the room. Frowning at the various photos scattered across her bed, she knew she should tell someone. It was obvious that Lord Voldemort was alive. If she shared her suspicions now, they could intervene before he gained power.

But one question stopped her. If Lord Voldemort was back, why was he trying to kill himself?

Chapter Text

New York City

Rumpelstiltskin was exhausted. He couldn’t go on like this anymore. For two months he had tried everything short of decapitation to kill himself. Jumping off ravines and buildings, running in front of buses, and taking every muggle drug that could induce an OD. He had tried handguns and when that hadn’t worked, he had tried a shotgun. There had been one time with a cannon.

He had drowned himself, set himself on fire, blown himself up and finally tried electrocution. Nothing worked. The worst that ever happened to him was a temporary death, almost like a coma, and then a few hours later he was up and fully healed. The realization of his immortality hit him hard.

He would never see his son again.

After that horrible realization, his mind had turned inward. He wandered New York City like a ghost. He was constantly in motion, muttering to himself and causing passersby to stop and stare. As days turned to weeks, his hair had become dirty and matted, his clothes were ripped and torn, and his shoes had been shredded from the constant motion. Not once did he notice.

This had only ever happened once before. Very shortly after he had killed Milah, he had been spinning when he let his mind wander. He started thinking of his family and realized that everyone he had ever loved, abandoned him. Even his boy. When he had finally stopped spinning, six months had passed, and he had more gold than he could possibly use in several lifetimes.

Now, his mind was once again with his Baelfire. He couldn’t stop thinking about his death, about Zelena, and how she had tricked Belle and Bae. Over and over his thoughts tumbled trying to understand why this had to happen. After everything he had done to get him back. It just wasn’t fair.

Then his mind turned to the price of magic. Despite never knowing it. Despite being a good person without magic, Rumpelstiltskin had been a dark wizard long before he was the Dark One. As Lord Voldemort, he bent the rules of magic almost to the breaking point. Maybe the loss of his son, his Happy Ending, was the price. Maybe that was why he remembered who he really was only after his son’s death.

In the end, Lord Voldemort got what he wanted, immortality. Rumpelstiltskin had lost everything and the Darkness. Who the hell knew what it wanted? It was still there, whispering to him, trying to goad him into taking his rightful place. Was the Darkness Lord Voldemort? Or was it a distinct personality like Rumpelstiltskin?

And what rightful place? He had won no battles and had no honors during his time in the Land of Hidden Magic. He had no power, except the fear that had followed him like poison. Everyone had been too afraid of him to allow him a position. Not that he could blame them. Every time he created a horcrux and splintered his soul, his mind and body were splintered as well. Soon he looked and acted like the monster he was on the inside, a Beast of his own creation.

It scared him. Knowing what he had been and what he had done. Deep down, Rumpelstiltskin wanted to do good. It was why he went to fight the Ogres in the first war and why he saved the children in the second. There was a big part of him that wanted to help others, but he was a coward. He wanted to save people, but he didn’t want to die himself.

The price of immortality. Was that why, on some level, he was afraid of dying?

Yet, if that were true, he had overcome that fear. He had genuinely thought that stabbing himself would end his life. However, all it had done was transport him back to the Vault. Waiting for someone desperate enough to open it.

Why did it have to be his boy?

Why couldn’t it have been Belle?

He was ashamed of himself. Belle was supposed to be his True Love. Yet, after his boy died and the heroes left him at the mercy of Zelena, he realized that it would be easier to live without Belle then it would be Bae. He had already done it when Regina had her imprisoned. He’d thought she was dead. While it had broken his heart, it never crushed his soul like Baelfire’s death had.

After Zelena had been detained and Belle had bargained with him over the dagger, Rumple had thought about letting it go. Thought about letting “justice” run its course. Thought about being the bigger person. However, as soon as the thought flitted through his mind, he knew it would never happen. He was petty and Zelena had not only been responsible for his own son’s death, but the dark thoughts toward the woman he loved.

So he had killed her for it.

It hadn’t helped. The dark thoughts had never gone away. In moments when he didn’t feel good enough for Belle, he often thought he would rather have his son. He often thought he would be happier with his boy. The Darkness in him had whispered and cajoled. It had made the wound he carried in his heart fester, until in his darkest moments he almost hated Belle.

When he saw the hat, he knew he had found a way to save himself from being controlled. What had sold it for him, however, was the thought that without the Darkness he could love Belle with a full heart. Like he promised her he would.

Now he knew that was impossible. The Darkness was a part of him, and it would never go away. He would have these ugly thoughts about his own True Love, forever.

Suddenly, Rumple felt a pressure on his shoulder. He heard his name from far away, causing him to blink. Looking around he found himself face to face with Robin Hood and Maid Marian.

“Robin?” Rumple croaked, as he felt hands steady him. Looking around, he saw that he was sitting in a chair, wrapped up in a blanket. Sluggishly, Rumple realized he was in Baelfire’s apartment. Robin and Marian were standing in front of him.

However, something wasn’t right. Marian wasn’t right. He could feel magic emanating from her. It seeped into his bones, like spite. There was only one person whose magic had ever felt like that.

“Who are you, dearie?” Rumple asked, looking hard at Maid Marian as he stood.

“Mr. Gold,” Robin said, reaching over and putting a steadying hand on his shoulder, “It’s my wife, Marian.”

Gold said nothing. He was still woozy. From the corner of his eye, he could see her wooden smile and that familiar crazy glint in her eyes.

“Marian, my ass.” Rumple thought.

“Kill the witch,” The Darkness hissed.

“How did I get here?” Rumple groaned, appearing feeble. Had he walked here?

“You don’t remember?” Robin asked, looking at Rumple worriedly.

“I’m afraid not lad,” Rumple said, limping toward the table and closer to Marian.

“We found you as we were coming back from Roland’s school,” Robin replied, “so we brought you back here. You didn’t seem to understand us before.”

“Ah,” Rumple said, taking another clumsy step toward Marion and away from Robin. Suddenly, like a snake, Rumple snatched his arm forward and grasped Marion’s heart. Pulling it out, he heard Marian scream and Robin yell.

“I wouldn’t scream if I were you,” Rumple sneered, his voice high and impish.

“We helped you,” Robin growled, looking at Rumple with hatred, “We brought you into our home!”

“Yes, you did,” Rumple replied with a solemn look in Robin’s direction. He had a hard grip on Marian’s heart, “And I’m trying to return the favor.”

Looking at Marian he sneered, “Show yourself dearie,”

Marian glared hard at Rumpelstiltskin and snapped, “How did you know?” Then in a green puff of smoke Marian disappeared and Zelena reappeared. Robin gasped, “Marian?”

“Not Marian, lover,” Zelena smirked looking Robin up and down, “I can see why Regina was keen to keep you.” She winked at him, causing Robin to look positively ill.

“How?” Rumple growled.

“My pendent darling,” Zelena replied, “And a rather nasty time traveling spell. I made sure to be in the right place.”

“You killed Marian,” Robin whispered, distraught.

“Oh please,” Zelena sneered at Robin with an eye roll, “Like you care. You fucked my sister right next to your frozen wife’s body.”

Robin turned a nasty shade of green and looked away from Zelena, “That was you.”

“But you didn’t know that love,” Zelena giggled, a nasty gleam in her eyes, “You thought it was your perfectly sweet wife back from the dead, and yet you still fucked another woman right beside her cursed body.”

“Enough!” Rumple shouted, squeezing Zelena’s heart. She screamed and doubled over in pain, “It’s over!”

“It’s never over,” Zelena growled, clutching her chest where her heart should be, “It will never be over!”

“This time it will be dearie,” Rumple replied and squeezed her heart until he crushed it. Zelena’s eyes widened, she gasped, and then she collapsed at Robin’s feet. Rumple just stared at her body, his hand still clenched, and his body stiff. He was ready for her to spring back to life. He was ready to kill her as many times as it took.

Finally, Robin said, “I think she’s dead Mr. Gold.”

Rumple limped toward her body and kicked it, hard. She didn’t move. Then madness gripped Rumple’s mind and he began kicking Zelena’s body again and again until Robin grabbed the dark wizard and pulled him off her. Rumple struggled against Robin’s hold, but Robin was unyielding. While Rumple’s magic still burned strong, months of suicide attempts, no food, and manic moods had weakened Rumple’s body.

“Mr. Gold!” Robin shouted, “It’s over! She’s dead Mr. Gold! She’s dead!”

Rumple pulled away from Robin and glared at the other man. Glancing at Zelena’s dead body, Rumple sank to the floor. His body began to shake from gut-wrenching sobs as he leaned forward and rested his forehead on the floor, feeling the cool boards on his overheated face.

Robin glanced at Zelena, expressionless. He then moved toward Rumpelstiltskin, kneeling beside him. He placed his hand on the older man’s shoulder and pulled him toward his chest. Rumple allowed it and found himself leaning into the younger man, sobbing his boy’s name over and over again. Robin just held him, his own tears mingling with the Dark One’s.

London

Harriet found herself pacing the length of her living room, still unable to sleep. Since her startling realization that Lord Voldemort was still alive, she hadn’t had any more nightmares. Yet sleep eluded her. Every time she tried, she felt ill. Almost like motion sickness. All she could do was pace and feel restless, wondering what Voldemort was up to. Wondering who she should tell and what she should say. No amount of alcohol could make her feel tired. Her mind whirled and never settled. She barely even ate.

She had taken to walking the streets when the whirling became too much. Her mind was so scattered that she rarely even took her wand or phone. Just herself, wandering the streets like a wraith. Even now she could feel the overwhelming urge to move.

Harriet had just decided to leave the apartment when, without warning, her body became leaden. She all but collapsed onto the kitchen chair. Yawning, Harriet couldn’t stop herself from laying her head on the kitchen table. She knew something was wrong with her, but she didn’t even have time to worry before she had fallen asleep.

New York City

Robin and Rumple sat side by side. Both leaning against the kitchen chairs, and each other, for support. They were just staring at Zelena’s dead body. She still hadn’t moved, and Rumple was becoming reasonably sure that she was actually dead this time.

“What are we going to do with her?” Robin asked. They could have called the police before Rumple had started kicking her, but now that would be impossible. Looking at the clock, Robin realized he would be expected to pick Roland up from school within the hour.

“Go pick up your boy,” Rumple said, realizing why Robin suddenly looked panicked, “I’ll take care of the body.”

“Are you sure?” Robin asked, his voice soft and gentle. He was worried about leaving Mr. Gold alone. After seeing Rumple’s break-down he couldn’t imagine truly hating the other man. Frustrated by his decisions? Yes. Scared of his power? Yes. Think he is an evil soulless monster? No. Never.

“Don’t worry lad,” Rumple replied, smirking at Robin, “I’m an old hat at getting rid of a dead body. Besides, I still have my magic. It will be a snap.”

Robin nodded and stood. He went to help Rumple, but Rumple ignored it and stood on his own. Robin could tell that Mr. Gold was a bit sheepish by his break-down, but he would never fault Rumpelstiltskin for it. He couldn’t imagine losing his son the way Rumpelstiltskin had.

Looking at the clock again, he hurried out the door. Rumple sincerely hoped that Robin could pull himself together. There would be questions about Marian’s disappearance, but he should be able to avoid them long enough to call Regina and figure out how to get back into Storybrooke.

“It’s just you and me dearie,” Rumple growled at Zelena’s dead body. He truly hated the witch. She had taken a wicked glee from hurting him. Often doing so for hours on end just to hear him scream. The things she had done to him were burned into his mind forever and he hoped wherever her soul ended up, she was paying for it.

Snapping his fingers, Zelena’s body turned into a cockroach. One that Rumple took great satisfaction in stepping on. He then grabbed a paper towel and cleaned up his mess. Rumple went to pull his phone from his outer pocket, intent on contacting Regina for Robin, when he realized it was gone. Checking for his wallet he was relieved to find that it was still in his inner pocket. Luckily, he wouldn’t have to replace any of his information. He made a note to pick up a burner phone later.

He went to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked homeless, which he supposed he technically was. Snapping his fingers, his magic fixed his suit, straightened his hair, and gave him an all-around well-groomed appearance. He didn’t feel clean, magic never could replace a good shower, but it was enough for him to be inoffensive to others.

Rumple wasn’t sure what to do. He knew that Roland was probably afraid of him. The only time the boy had ever seen him was when he’d been threatening to kill him. Making a quick decision, Rumple left Robin a note and made his way to the roof. Hopefully, by the time they were home, Roland would be prepared to see him.

Looking out over the city, Rumple looked down and contemplated trying to jump one more time. Maybe in his weakened state it would work? Although, it would be cruel for Roland to see that. Rumple had too much respect for Robin to ever do that to his son. Besides, he knew it wouldn’t really kill him. It would just take longer for his body to heal. Nothing could kill him.

Except Harriet Potter.

He wondered if she would do him the favor of trying again? He had deduced that it had been twelve years since the battle at Hogwarts. She would be around thirty now. If she could take him out as a teenager, then an adult Harriet would likely find it much easier.

Rumple sighed in irritation. He knew asking would be selfish. There was no need to worry her about his presence. She need not know he was alive. Besides, she probably had a family now to think of. He couldn’t do that to her.

Rumple wondered what she would look like now. She had been a striking young woman, so it stood to reason that she would be a beautiful adult. He imagined she would be kind and brave and happy. He had no idea what she would look like in her happiness, he had only ever seen her afraid. Rumple looked down at the city below contemplating fate when he heard a voice hiss from behind him.

“Don’t. Even. Fucking. Think about it,” Rumple spun around. Only to be face to face with a very pissed off green eyed witch.

“Potter?” Rumple whispered, looking at her. His eyes devoured her in a single instant, noting the physical changes. Her eyes were sunken in, her hair was lank and wild, and she was skeletal in appearance. She was nothing like he had just imagined.

“What’s happened to you?” Rumple breathed as he stepped closer to her. His hand reached out to her in a half-hearted attempt to forge a connection.

She took a step back from him, flinching hard. That was when he noticed that her edges weren’t…real. She flickered in and out like the shadow in the corner of one’s eye. He put his hand down and sighed sadly.

“You’re not really here,” Rumple muttered while turning away from her.

He took a step closer to the edge, tempted to jump on principle.

“Please don’t!” Harriet shouted in panic, causing Rumple to look at her oddly, “I can’t take watching you kill yourself again.” She had her hands over her eyes, and he could tell she was trying to suppress a sob, “I just want to sleep.”

The last bit was said so quietly, so desperately, that Rumple stepped closer to her again. Before she even noticed him move, he placed his hand on her shoulder. Startled, Harriet took her hands from her eyes and looked Rumple full in the face.

Rumple was just as startled.

“You're real?” Rumple breathed, taking her other shoulder in his hands and squeezing gently.

Harriet nodded and asked, “Did you not think I was?” She was confused, but also surprised that she didn’t seem uncomfortable with him so close.

“I sometimes see things that aren’t there,” Rumple whispered, breathing in her scent of tea, soap, and booze.

Harriet said nothing. She just stared at the sadness in his eyes. Swallowing, she said, “I’ve been watching you harm yourself. It was like I was seeing through your eyes.” She bit her lip suddenly feeling as if she should take a step back, but not feeling anxious enough to do so, “For two months, I thought I was dreaming of hurting myself.”

Rumple made a distressed noise in his throat, “I didn’t know you were there. I would have blocked you out.”

“You never knew when I was around before,” Harriet said with a slight chuckle, “It makes sense you didn’t know now.”

Rumple sighed at that and pulled away from her. He turned his back on her and stared at the city. He was uncomfortably reminded of their relationship. To Harriet he was a villain.

“I’m sorry you’ve been brought into this,” Rumple replied quietly, “I’ve been trying to keep it from you. I never considered we would still have the connection.”

“I didn’t either,” Harriet replied, coming to stand next to him, careful not to touch him, “Quite frankly, I was rather convinced you were dead.” None of this felt real. It had a surreal quality to it that Harriet found was keeping her panic and fear at bay.

“I should have been,” Rumple replied bluntly. He said nothing more, but Harriet knew he wanted to, so she kept silent and stared at the unknown city before her. There was a weird, comfortable silence between them. One, that by rights, should not belong to them.

Finally, Rumple continued, “All I know, is that I was split in two. One half became Rumpelstiltskin, a regular man with no magic, and the other half became a monster so horrible that they had to tie it to a magical dagger to control it.”

Frowning, Harriet looked at Rumple, and said, “I’m going to need more information. That whole statement sounded like gibberish.”

Rumple chuckled darkly and looked at Harriet. Seeing pain and exhaustion in her face, he wondered if maybe she was too tired for this conversation.

Taking a deep breath, Rumple said, “You should go back and get some sleep, Potter. You're exhausted.”

“I need to know what is going on,” Harriet replied, wrapping her arms around herself, chilled by the night air, “I need to know why you’re not dead and why you're still in my head.” Harriet paused and then said in a small voice, “I don’t even know how I got here.”

Rumple reached out, slowly, and placed his hand on her shoulder. It was so boney, like there was no fat there at all.

“You’re not eating, “Rumple whispered, and Harriet looked at him. So much sadness in her eyes, “Did I do this to you? Did I cause this?”

Harriet opened her mouth to yell at him. To scream that it was all his fault and that if he had never been born, she wouldn’t be like this. Yet, while that was all true, it wasn’t all his fault either. The wizarding world wasn’t a kind place to those that didn’t conform. If not him, it would have been someone else. Maybe even her own parents.

She sobbed as tears began streaming down her face and went to pull away from Rumple. Instead, he began wiping her tears away, making gentle sounds to soothe her. His hands were gentle, and she found herself leaning into them. It had been so long since anyone had touched her in kindness. She hadn’t even realized she craved it.

Taking an unsteady breath, Rumpelstiltskin felt his stomach drop and twist. His heart constricted and for a second nothing moved or made a sound. It took a single moment for him to change his whole outlook on his life. He wanted to atone for what he had done. He thought by dying he could do that. Now, he realized there was a second option.

He could save the Chosen One.

“Not just you,” Harriet finally replied, leaning against his hand despite herself. She was desperate to feel some kind of friendly contact, “The wizarding world has really gone to shit after you left.”

“Died you mean,” Rumple corrected with a twisted smile, “You did kill me, Harriet.”

Harriet sucked in a breath at the use of her name. She liked the way his voice, with that odd Scottish lilt, pronounced it. It was both reverent and kind. It clashed oddly with the memories of the monster she remembered.

Pulling away Harriet took a step back and wrapped her arms around herself again. Her head hurt, she was tired and hungry, and so confused. Yet, she wasn’t afraid. Shouldn’t she be afraid?

“How are you like this?” Harriet whispered looking at Rumpelstiltskin. She wanted answers, but none of them made sense.

“Alive?” Rumple began but Harriet cut him off, “Kind.”

Rumple said nothing for a moment and then, in a hard voice, “I’m not a kind man. According to my wife, I’m a Beast.”

“Wife?” Harriet whispered, shocked. How did he have a wife?

“Yes. Wife,” Rumpelstiltskin growled with another twisted smile, “The Beauty to my Beast, as it were.”

“Like a fairy tale?” Harriet asked, biting her lip. None of this was making sense.

“Unfortunately,” Rumple replied as he looked at Harriet. She seemed to be trying to put everything together and he didn’t want her to. He wanted to take her downstairs and put her to bed. He wanted to make her eat something and forbid her to ask questions. He wanted to put his rusty homemaker skills to use and live in a bubble where he could be a good person and save her.

It was a stupid wish. He owed her every explanation he had. He owed her his very life for what he had done to her.

“I don’t understand,” Harriet said in a small voice, “The Beauty saved the Beast.”

His smile twisted even more, and he replied in a voice dripping in acid, “Not everything is a fairy tale, Potter. Even when it’s supposed to be.”

Harriet said nothing. That was the closest he had sounded to Lord Voldemort the entire conversation. For a split second, she had started to think that part of him was dead.

“Then maybe you should get a different fairy tale,” Harriet found herself saying. She had no idea why she was trying to reassure Lord Voldemort, but she felt more connected to him than she ever had. Maybe it was the isolation she felt from the wizarding world or the small kindness he showed her. She would never forget how he looked at her when he realized she was not a figment of his imagination, like she was a miracle.

Nobody had ever looked at her like that.

Rumpelstiltskin glared at her, but then his shoulders sagged, and he rubbed his palm across his face. In a broken voice he said, “Potter, I’m three hundred years old. I’m so tired of starting over.”

“Three hundred?” Harriet echoed, “But it’s only been twelve years since the battle at Hogwarts!”

“Not for me,” Rumpelstiltskin replied brokenly, “It was only two months ago I remembered being Lord Voldemort at all.”

Harriet gasped, “Seriously? How?” But then she felt herself become woozy. She took another step away from him and felt her head swim. She leaned against the rail that outlined the roof and heard a faint knocking. Her breathing became ragged.

Rumple took a step forward and reached out to steady her. Then suddenly she was gone, leaving Rumpelstiltskin with more questions than answers. Gripping the iron bars that lined the roof Rumple took deep breaths as he looked over the rail. Where had she gone?

For the second time that day, someone came up behind him catching him unawares.

“Mr. Gold,” Robin said, “Were you speaking with someone? I thought I heard a woman’s voice.”

“No dearie,” Rumple replied, turning to face him. He was unsure how he would explain everything to Robin and was unwilling to tell the truth about his alter ego, “It was only me and the wind.”

“Mr. Gold,” Robin began but Rumple cut him off. He looked at the thief and said, “You need to call Regina. I lost my phone, or I would have already.”

“What do I say?” Robin asked, pulling out the cell phone Regina had given him.

“The truth,” Rumple replied with a sad expression on his face, “You always tell the truth to the woman you love.”

Robin opened his mouth but thought better of it. He still didn’t know why Mr. Gold was in New York. Although it was obvious that something had gone terribly wrong in his life.

“Okay,” Robin replied. He turned to leave, then glanced at Mr. Gold. The other man had his eyes closed. A look of concentration on his face. When he opened them, Robin noticed they were reptilian, much as they had been in the Enchanted Forest.

Robin jerked his thumb at the door and asked, “Are you going to stay with us for a while?” Robin wasn’t even going to discuss the mysterious eye change; too tired to point it out. His nerves were strung taut and his heart was broken from Marion’s death. He hadn’t even told Roland about his mother yet.

Rumple smiled at Robin kindly and said, “That’s a nice invitation lad, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline. Give Regina my best.”

Then he was gone, leaving Robin alone with far too many questions.

London

Harriet bolted from the kitchen table. The kitchen chair fell backwards as Harriet shakily stood. Groggily she looked around and found herself back in her apartment, away from Lord Voldemort.

“Fuck!” Harriet yelled, pulling at her hair. He had been about to open up and explain the fucked-up nightmare she found herself in and she had woken up?

Shrieking in frustration, Harriet began to pace when she noticed the banging coming from her front door. The same banging from New York. Harriet frowned. Had she somehow used astral projection? Was that a thing? Growling, she wondered where Kreacher was as she yanked open the front door.

“What?” Harriet hissed only to be met with Severus Snape looking pale and shaken, “Severus?”

“He’s back,” Snape muttered as he pushed himself in. Harriet said nothing, confused as to how Snape could possibly have found out. She made sure to brush her hair in front of her scar. She could feel the pounding in her head, and she knew from experience it would make her scar hot and red.

“Whose back?” Harriet finally asked, trying to feign confusion.

Severus looked at her sharply and noticed the way she had rearranged her hair and tilted his head in question. Harriet just crossed her arms and said nothing. There was no way in hell she was going to explain things to Severus Snape. Not when she didn’t understand herself, but then the option was taken from her. Suddenly, blinding pain exploded from her scar. She yelled and clutched her head, falling to her knees.

“Potter!” Severus cried as he tried to catch her, but abruptly stopped when a man suddenly appeared between them. The sudden pain eased, and Harriet looked up to find that Lord Voldemort was standing between her and Severus.

“You!” Severus thundered, while raising his wand. Unconcerned Rumpelstiltskin made a motion with his hands causing Severus to stand unnaturally still. Nothing moved except his panicked and desperate eyes.

Harriet tried to stand but her legs were shaky. With her eyes trained on Rumpelstiltskin she said, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Obviously,” Rumple drawled as he kneeled in front of her, his back turned unconcernedly away from Severus. Smirking he said, “But on the off chance you actually fell off the roof, I had to be sure.”

He then put his hand out and asked, “Do you need help to stand?”

Harriet looked at his hand and then her legs. Swallowing, she nodded and felt Rumpelstiltskin gently help her up and lead her to the kitchen table. Depositing her in a seat, he went directly to her kitchenette and started making tea.

“Where do you keep your tea bags?” Rumpelstiltskin muttered as he looked through the cabinets.

“Kreacher,” Harriet hollered, and a small elderly house elf popped into sight, right by her elbow. It occurred to her he must have been visiting Winky.

“Yes Mistress?” Kreacher asked, as he looked at her and then at Severus. Finally, he turned around and found himself face to face with Rumpelstiltskin.

“What are you doing, sir?” Kreacher asked, a bit aggressively.

“I’m trying to make tea dearie,” Rumpelstiltskin replied, his whole-body tense at the sight of the house-elf. Then in an off-hand manner, his voice unnaturally high, he said, “You can move again, Severus.”

Whirling around, Severus kept Rumpelstiltskin in his line of sight. His wand at the ready.

“Kreacher will do that for you sir,” Kreacher croaked, aggressively taking a step forward. Rumpelstiltskin nodded and allowed Kreacher the kitchenette. Not that he could have stopped the elf.

Severus stared hard at Rumpelstiltskin as the other man reached toward Harriet and felt her forehead with the back of his hand, “Your feverish.”

Harriet said nothing at first, but then sighed in resignation and motioned for him to take a seat. Harriet rubbed her face trying to figure out what to say when Rumpelstiltskin snapped, “I’m not sure who you are trying to fool Severus. Sit down.”

Severus immediately sank into the chair in front of him, face impassive as he stared hard at Harriet and Rumpelstiltskin. Their familiarity was unnerving.

Silence descended. Nobody seemed to know what to say. What could be said? It was happening again, Lord Voldemort was back from the dead, the Dark Mark was once again revealed, and Harriet’s scar was causing more pain than before. History repeating itself, except Lord Voldemort didn’t seem…. insane. In fact, he was downright calm.

Realizing the silence needed to be broken, Harriet said, “My forehead always feels feverish when I find myself in your mind. I suppose it does the same thing when you shove yourself into mine.”

“I’m sorry,” Rumpelstiltskin replied, immediately looking chagrined, “I didn’t know where you had gone, and you looked to be in so much pain. I wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn’t expect Severus to be here.”

Harriet nodded and said, “He was warning me that you were back.”

“And how did he know that?” Rumpelstiltskin rumbled, looking at his former potions master curiously.

Wordlessly, Severus rolled his robes up to his elbow and showed them his Dark Mark. He saw no reason to conceal it from either one of them. It should be a warning to his former master that someone would know he was back. He hoped Harriet found it comforting that there would be warnings of the Dark Lord’s return.

“Well, that’s a problem,” Rumpelstiltskin muttered, glowering at the Dark Mark he had branded Severus with.

He quickly reached over and grabbed Severus’ wrist and brought it close to his face. Severus grunted in surprise at the snake-like reflexes of the dark wizard. He had to stand to be able to lean over the table more comfortably. Frowning, Rumpelstiltskin reached out his other hand and poked the Dark Mark.

Severus grunted in pain but said nothing. Rumpelstiltskin poked it again, and again Severus grunted.

“Stop it,” Harriet growled, putting her hand between Severus’ arm and Rumpelstiltskin’s finger, “You’ll bring all the Death Eaters in Azkaban here if you keep that up. Unless that’s your aim?”

Rumpelstiltskin just sighed in annoyance and let Severus have his arm back. Severus rubbed his arm begrudgingly, glaring at his former master. Rumpelstiltskin didn’t need an army of Death Eaters descending on him. He would hate to have to kill so many people right when he decided to turn over a new leaf.

“It’s the same tattoo,” Rumpelstiltskin cocked his head at Harriet and continued, “but I have no idea why it’s still there. After I died, it should have disappeared.”

“It did,” Severus growled, “And yet somehow it came back. Fresh, like when you first put it there.”

“Well, I didn’t do it,” Rumpelstiltskin said, motioning to himself with a flourish, “And I wasn’t doing anything particularly Lord Voldemort-like to even have it respond to my magic.”

All was quiet for a time, dwelling on the mystery, and then Kreacher put a teacup in front of Rumpelstiltskin. He gently picked the cup up to take a sip, but stopped abruptly. Carefully, he put the teacup back and sighed.

“You're bad at poisoning people Kreacher,” Rumple looked at the house elf who was standing close to Harriet, arms crossed defiantly.

“You will not hurt my Mistress,” Kreacher growled, “Dark Lord.”

Rumpelstiltskin pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance and muttered, “I should have stayed in New York.”

“Why didn’t you?” Harriet asked, placing her hand on Kreacher’s shoulder to make sure he would stand down. She didn’t need Kreacher hurt. He was the only friend she had.

Rumple said nothing for a moment. He just looked at Harriet with an unreadable expression. Finally, he crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair and replied, “Like I said before. I wanted to check on you.”

“Why?” Harriet pressed, “You have tried to kill me numerous times, succeeded once, and yet you expect me to believe you were worried?”

“I’m a difficult man to understand,” Rumpelstiltskin replied with another flourish of his hand and a slight high-pitched giggle that even seemed to surprise Rumpelstiltskin.

“Stop being so damn cryptic!” Harriet shouted standing up. Rumpelstiltskin just watched as she pushed away from the table to pace. Kreacher still stood between them and Severus barely blinked. Both seemed ready to pounce should he move.

He cocked his head to the side as he watched Harriet, his face unreadable. Inside, he was in turmoil. He never wanted her to know about his return. Never wanted to inconvenience her and cause distress. Yet, here he was doing both.

Why were all of his good intentions always thrown back in his face?

For that matter, why was he reverting back to his Enchanted Forest Dark One persona? The more uncomfortable he became, the more he relied on it. It occurred to Rumpelstiltskin that even as Lord Voldemort he relied on different personalities to keep everyone around him off guard. It was not a flattering realization.

Severus was sitting motionless trying hard not to panic. The Dark Lord was back! Sitting in his worst enemy’s kitchen, at ease. What did that mean? It also didn’t help that Potter was being aggressive and antagonistic. Or that Kreacher had just tried to poison him or that Severus had just tried to attack him. It also didn’t help that the Dark Lord seemed to be more powerful than ever before.

He didn’t care for it.

All he had was his ability to spy, and so Severus sat back and watched his former master. Hoping and waiting for an opportunity to save himself and Potter.

Harriet paced, frustration, hunger, and lack of sleep making her woozy. She just wanted everything to slow down and stop moving at a breakneck pace. Nothing made sense and she was so tired. Most importantly, she was very confused.

Why was HE here? She just couldn’t understand it. He said he was concerned, he acted like he was concerned, yet she could not find a conceivable reason why he would actually be concerned.

She turned and abruptly collided with Rumpelstiltskin. Their eyes locked and she felt his hands reach out to steady her. Staring into his eyes made Harriet feel like she was standing still on an escalator. They pulled her forward, drowning her in warm amber tinted chocolate. His concern, pain, confusion, and anxiety were all there for her to see. His hands, while strong, were gentle. She took in his charcoal suit and his blue and black striped tie. He looked every bit like a legitimate businessman and nothing like the mad Slytherin that still haunted her nightmares.

His hands tightened around her shoulders. In that Scottish lilt of his, that was so different from his voice as Lord Voldemort, he said softly, “Please calm down. You’ll make yourself sick.”

“I’m already sick,” Harriet whispered, leaning against his hands, looking at the floor, “I don’t eat, I don’t sleep….” Harriet sobbed and felt her knees grow weak. She was about to admit her greatest weakness to her greatest enemy. Yet she needed someone to hear her for once. Nobody else would listen. She just needed one person to understand.

Still, Harriet couldn’t get it out. Her confession was stuck in her throat and all Harriet could do was cry as her knees buckled. She felt Rumple’s hands move from her shoulders to her elbow and waist. She felt herself being brought forward and then his arms were around her and her nose was in the crook of his neck. His chin was on top of her head and he was running his fingers through her hair in an act of comfort.

“Hush lass,” Rumpelstiltskin whispered in her ear, “You’re having a panic attack. Just listen to my voice and breathe in and out. Slowly.”

Harriet did as he bid. She found his hands in her hair calming. His scent filled her nose and the mixture of sweat and his natural musk caused her to feel drowsy. Her breathing started to steady as she listened to Rumpelstiltskin speak.

“Once Upon a Time, in a not so faraway London, a young boy lived in a molding orphanage. He had nothing to love or care for and that made him selfish and unkind. He was different from the other children, always whispering to snakes, and the children began to fear him.”

Harriet held her breath as he continued to speak, “But then, one Spring Day, there came a professor to the orphanage and told him that he was a wizard. That he had a place in the world and that he would soon go to Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, but the boy showed no emotion to the older man. Only grim satisfaction that he would no longer have to spend his whole life in that awful orphanage. It scared the professor, and he had every right to be scared, because the boy had no love in his heart.”

Harriet’s breathing returned to normal prompting Rumple to gently push her back and look at her. His face haunted, he continued, “The boy grew into a young man, killing and splitting his soul into various pieces, never imagining that his sanity would go with it. Never questioning the idiotic pureblood supremacy that being housed in Slytherin had instilled in him. He became less and less human and more and more a monster. Until one night a misguided youth told him a prophecy, and he committed the ultimate sin; killing a child.”

Rumpelstiltskin turned away from Harriet, his hands behind his back. Taking a breath to steady himself, he then turned back and asked,” You’ve calmed down?”

Harriet nodded, not saying a word. He had told her a story, his story, but he had not finished it. Would he? Would she finally understand the monster Lord Voldemort was (is?). For better or worse, his tenderness touched her deeply. However, when she noticed that Severus was still sitting at the table and Kreacher was still standing in the same spot she realized what he had done.

“Did you freeze them again?” Harriet asked exasperated and Rumpelstiltskin waved his hand in front of his face

“It’s easier, and they weren’t paying attention to you. Someone had to help you through the panic attack.”

“And you elected yourself?” Harriet asked, trying hard to understand the inscrutable man before her. One moment he was helping and kind and the next he was cursing people.

“Yes,” Rumpelstiltskin said, “because I know what panic attacks are. I have them often.”

“The great Lord Voldemort has panic attacks?” Harriet asked sarcastically, throwing her hands up. Rumpelstiltskin winced.

“No,” he said, looking away from her, “but Rumpelstiltskin does.”

“Do you really expect me to believe there’s a difference?” Harriet snipped. She was angry at him for being so complicated, for starting stories only to stop abruptly in the middle. For giving her headaches and sleepless nights. Mostly she was angry that she allowed him to comfort her not once, but twice now.

Was she so desperate for a human connection she would crave it even from Lord Voldemort?

Rumpelstiltskin said nothing for a time. He just stood there, clenching and unclenching his hands, glaring at Harriet. Harriet defiantly glared back and crossed her arms. Finally, Rumpelstiltskin threw his hands up in the air and said, “I don’t expect you to understand dearie. It’s hard to understand even for me. But trust and believe I am very different from the monster you knew.”

“Name one difference,” Harriet snapped and took an aggressive step in his direction. She had her hands clenched now. She felt her magic, usually slow to respond to her anger, tingle in her finger tips. She needed her wand, but it was in her bedroom. Which was not a good thing when Lord Voldemort was in your apartment.

“I can laugh,” Rumpelstiltskin replied, quietly trying to get her to understand, “I whistle when I tinker in my pawnshop. I have a fondness for American French Fries and ketchup and I own far too many Armani suits. I usually carry a cell phone so my grandson can call me; even when I know he never will.” Rumple swallowed trying to keep the tears away. He noticed that Harriet had stopped advancing and that her aggression was lessening. She was listening, “I had a son that I loved beyond all reason. That I became a Beast for. When he was young, I became a Storyteller to help feed him.

He took a step toward Harriet and said, “I’ve loved and lost and cried and screamed. It’s true that I’ve hurt others. That I’ve killed and tortured and manipulated, but I never lost my ability to love.”

Tears began to stain Rumple’s face, but he let them. He hated Severus seeing him this way, but Harriet deserved to know. There were few people he would humiliate himself for, but Harriet was one of them just by virtue of what he had done to her.

“Lord Voldemort knew nothing of that,” Rumple said, “Even as a boy he couldn’t feel anything but rage.” He shrugged, “I don’t know if he was always like that or if the orphanage made him like that. It wasn’t a kind place for children.” He took a deep breath and admitted something he’d just now realized, “I’ve lived more in my time as Rumpelstiltskin Gold than I ever did as Tom Riddle.”

Harriet said nothing as she looked at the man before her. The tears were trailing down his face and he looked so heart broken. So sick to his very soul when speaking of Lord Voldemort.

“Was that why you tried to kill yourself so many times?” Harriet quietly asked, “Because you feel guilty?”

“Yes,” Rumpelstiltskin breathed, she was finally starting to understand, “I have done many horrible things as the Dark One, but nothing ever so evil as my time as Lord Voldemort. Yet, I seemed to achieve what I wanted in the end. I cannot die.”

He ran his hands through his hair, and Harriet noticed that he had long brown hair. It was startling to her that she kept noticing Rumpelstiltskin’s details in halts and starts. As if her subconscious was resisting knowing more about him to protect herself.

“I held villains like Lord Voldemort in contempt as the Dark One,” Rumpelstiltskin laughed, but it held no mirth, only self-condemnation, “It’s amazing how ashamed a person can be of themselves. I thought I knew all about that, but when my memories came back…. well…. I was very wrong.”

“I’m a drunk,” Harriet blurted out with a twisted smile. He looked surprised and startled, “And I starve myself because I feel so guilty that I turned out this way. That I disappointed everyone that looked up to me.” Tears trailed down her face and she said, “I tried to kill myself once. So, I understand being disappointed in yourself.”

She brushed her tears away and made a decision. Why she made it or how she thought it was a good idea she didn’t know, but she made it all the same. Maybe it was intuition.

“Not the same dearie,” Rumpelstiltskin said as he watched Harriet slowly approach him, “You hurt yourself because traumatic things happened to you. I killed people and tried to take over magical Britain for no better reason than because I wanted to.”

“Guilt is guilt,” Harriet smiled sadly, “And I hurt the people around me. I traumatized those that loved me and I pushed people away. Good people.”

Rumpelstiltskin said nothing to that. There was nothing to say. She was right. Guilt was guilt. Either way, if you let it, it would make you eat yourself alive. He had given into the guilt and was saved by his immortality.

Harriet had nobody or nothing to save her, and it looked like the guilt was winning.

She reached out and put her hand on his arm. “I don’t pretend to understand everything,” Harriet began, “There is so much you still need to explain to me but….” She trailed off and looked him in the eye again, in parselmouth she said, “But I understand what you’re trying to say.”

Rumple nodded as Harriet took her hand away and turned toward the table. Again, in parselmouth she said “Please unfreeze them.” Her tone was gentle but Rumple knew there was no room to argue.

With a snap of his fingers Kreacher and Severus began to move. Severus stood again with his wand out and Kreacher was crouched beside Harriet, ready for trouble.

“Now Kreacher,” Harriet began with an abruptness that caused Rumple to reel slightly, “Please put supper on. I’m famished.” She smiled at the house elf, “And please don’t poison Mr. Gold again. He’s our guest.”

“Yes Mistress,” Kreacher croaked, as he scuttled to the kitchenette. Harriet looked at Snape and said, “You’re welcome to stay for supper Severus.”

“Stay for supper?” Severus thundered in his silky voice, “Guest? Potter, have you lost what is left of your alcohol-addled mind?”

Harriet’s voice turned dark and ugly at the mention of her drinking, “You could just say no Severus. You don’t have to get ugly about it.”

“Potter, the Dark Lord is standing in your kitchen; the murderer of your parents and half of magical Britain, and you just expect us to break bread with him!” Severus looked at Harriet like she had gone mad, and maybe she had. Nothing seemed real.

“Didn’t you hear a word he just said?” Harriet asked. There was a buzzing in her ears. Severus Snape was a frustrating man on a good day. Add scared into the mix and he was downright unbearable. She looked at Rumpelstiltskin and tilted her head in Severus' direction.

Rumpelstiltskin was surprised when he heard a faint feminine voice in his mind say, “Could you Obliviate him for me?”

Rumpelstiltskin didn’t even nod. One second, he was standing behind his chair the next he was beside Severus. Before he could move, Rumple had reached out and placed his index finger to Severus’ forehead.

“Obliviate,” Rumpelstiltskin muttered, and Severus stumbled. For good measure Rumple cursed Severus to sleep, “Dornröschen.”

Severus began to fall but Rumpelstiltskin guided him slowly to the floor, being careful not to hurt the other man. While Severus annoyed him, he acknowledged that the younger man had many grievances against him. He felt genuinely bad that he had to obliviate him.

“Is there any way you can take off the Dark Mark,” Harriet asked as she knelt beside Severus, rolling up his sleeve once again to show off the mark, “And thereby destroying the rest?”

“Yes,” Rumpelstiltskin said, taking Severus’ arm gently in his hand, “I do believe that is possible.”

He placed his hand on the Dark Mark and muttered words under his breath. The mark felt hot under his hand, and he knew if Severus was awake, he would be screaming. As it were, he was whimpering in his sleep, clearly uncomfortable even in slumber.

Then it was over, and Rumple took his hand away. Severus’ arm was clear; no mark to be found. Harriet rolled the sleeve down and looked at Kreacher who had come to stand next to them. He curiously looked between Rumple and Harriet and then down at the potions master.

“Kreacher take him home,” Harriet commanded. She then took the elf’s hand in her own and squeezed it affectionately, “I’m also commanding you not to tell a single soul, magical or non-magical, about any of this. From now on, the subject of Rumpelstiltskin and Lord Voldemort is to be kept between the three of us. Do you understand?”

“Yes Mistress,” Kreacher whimpered. Harriet didn’t command him often.

“I mean it Kreacher,” Harriet continued, “You figure out a way around my commands and I will have to find you a new family.”

Kreacher whimpered and said, “No Mistress! Kreacher wants to stay with you!”

“Then do as I ask,” Harriet commanded with a sad smile and a kiss to his cheek. She used to hate the older elf. However, with time, care, and attention she soon realized she couldn’t possibly do without him. He was her friend and only companion.

“Yes Mistress,” Kreacher croaked. He knew she meant business this time and he would not fail her. He snapped his fingers and disappeared with Severus. Rumple and Harriet were quiet. Neither getting to their feet, both were content to sit quietly. Finally, Rumple said, “You have done wonders with him. The last time I encountered him, he was rather demented.”

“You, remember Kreacher?” Harriet asked, surprised that he would even pay attention to house elves.

“I may have been an insane egomaniac,” Rumpelstiltskin replied with a self-deprecating smile, “But I wasn’t stupid. I knew house elves could be a problem and I made sure to know which of my followers had one. Kreacher was easy to remember because Walburga Black was absolutely insane, and the poor thing worshiped her.”

He stood and held his hand out for her. Harriet ignored it and stood on her own. Rumple found her yoyoing emotions hard to follow. She alternated between being comfortable with him and skittish. It was like her mind was waging war on itself.

Not that he blamed her. She had just thrown her lot in with the Dark One.

“Do you think anyone would have noticed the Mark?” Harriet asked, fretting.

“Most likely,” Rumpelstiltskin replied, “How many Death Eaters still remain at large?”

“None,” Harriet replied, her voice once again hard and ugly, “We made sure of that. Severus and Draco Malfoy were the only Death Eaters given a pardon.”

“Would Malfoy say something?” Rumple asked, his head cocked.

“Possibly?” Harriet said quietly, questioningly, “But he doesn’t really involve himself in the magical world anymore. The last I heard, he had fallen in love with an American muggle and was living his life there.”

Harriet cocked her head and evaluated Rumpelstiltskin. There was something about him, an aura, that drew her in. She didn’t understand it. Maybe it was their mental connection or maybe it was something else. All she knew was that it alternatively made her feel anxious and safe.

“I don’t have to stay for dinner,” Rumpelstiltskin said as he watched her stand, “In fact, I’ll leave you alone. I promise you that dearie.”

Harriet shook her head and was just about to check on the food when Kreacher reappeared in the kitchenette and continued supper as if he had not been interrupted. Shuffling her feet, she looked at Rumpelstiltskin who stood awkwardly by Severus’s vacated chair.

“If I’d wanted you to leave, I wouldn’t have asked you to obliviate Severus,” Harriet replied. She felt tired, “Besides, I want to sleep, and I don’t trust you to stay out of trouble.”

“You can’t make me stay where I don’t want to, dearie,” Rumpelstiltskin replied, bristling, “I will not be controlled, ever again.”

Harriet could tell there was more to that statement, but she chose to ignore it for now.

“I’m not asking to control you,” Harriet replied with a sniff, “I’m simply asking you to stay here and don’t do anything stupid for at least one night so I can sleep.”

“And then?” Rumpelstiltskin asked testily, “Because one night’s sleep isn’t going to help you.”

“And then we figure out how to separate our minds for good,” Harriet replied with grim determination, “Because if you think I’m going to stay connected to an immortal Dark Lord for the rest of my life, you really are crazy.”

“Dark One dearie,” Rumpelstiltskin corrected. He retook his seat across from her, “Fine. I'll stay the night with you.”

“Thank you,” Harriet replied with a faint smile as Kreacher wordlessly placed their food in front of them. Rumpelstiltskin faintly smiled back and they both began eating.

Kreacher stared glumly between the two, hoping with all his might that his Mistress would remain strong and uncorrupted despite the dark wizard’s presence.

Chapter Text

Storybrooke

Ruby and Archie were quiet as they made their way through town, alternatively glancing over their shoulders to make sure they were not seen. The night was calm and pleasantly cool with a clear crescent moon hanging in the sky. There was a very light breeze and the smell of salt hung in the air. The town was utterly silent.

Seeing the small cottage, they hurried up the short steps and knocked on the door. Shuffling sounds could be heard from inside making them nervous. Glancing at each other they were startled when the Apprentice abruptly answered the door.

“Can I help you?” The Apprentice asked as he looked between the two.

Archie introduced them, “I’m Dr. Archie Hopper and this is Ruby Hood. We have a few questions.”

The Apprentice motioned for them to come in. Asking them to sit, he took a seat across from them. Ruby and Archie perched on the edge of the couch, both clearly uncomfortable in their surroundings.

“I am rather surprised to see the town conscience and werewolf together, at night, with the full moon so close.” The Apprentice commented.

Ruby said nothing. The full moon held no danger for her now, but she didn’t want to let him know that. So, she just pinched her lips together, while Archie frowned. He wasn’t afraid of Ruby and never had been. Wolves didn’t hunt crickets.

Ignoring the Apprentice’s comment Archie began, “This town is on the brink of chaos, and the only person we think can fix it, is Rumpelstiltskin.”

“Why would a villain such as Rumpelstiltskin help you?” the Apprentice asked calmly.

Archie paused, stuck searching for the right words. Looking at Ruby, who nodded in encouragement, he finally answered, “Because there is good in Rumpelstiltskin. If there wasn’t, we would’ve all been dead a long time ago.”

The Apprentice cocked his head in thought and then nodded in agreement, “Rumpelstiltskin is a very interesting case. Of all Dark Ones, he has been cursed the longest. He seems to have a natural affinity for keeping the Darkness at bay. I have always wondered why.”

“Could it be love?” Archie asked, “He was very attached to his son.”

“Possibly,” The Apprentice agreed, “I have known other Dark Ones. None of them were as “human” as Rumpelstiltskin. By the end, a few had turned into nothing but wild creatures only capable of horrible atrocities.”

Archie and Ruby said nothing as they glanced nervously at each other. It was really beginning to sink in just how cursed Rumpelstiltskin was. It was one thing to know the Darkness existed. However, it was another to truly believe that this curse wasn’t of Gold’s own making. Both had believed that the curse was something that Gold brought on himself, not something that happened to him. It brought home just how important the dagger was to Storybrooke’s continued existence.

Finally, Ruby said, “Belle isn’t protecting the dagger. She just totes it around in her purse. Anyone could steal it. Honestly, I trust Rumpelstiltskin with it far more than I do anyone else. It seems everyone is easily corrupted by the idea of using that thing.”

“You are not wrong Ms. Hood,” The Apprentice agreed, “However, while I do not trust Mrs. Gold to keep it safe, I am not sure that I trust Rumpelstiltskin with it either.”

“Then what do you purpose we do,” Ruby asked with a huff, “Belle is making me nervous.”

“Give it to the Savior of course,” The Apprentice suggested but Archie and Ruby both made disagreeable noises.

“She’s dating Hook,” Ruby said with contempt, “She’d give it to him just on principle. It doesn’t matter that Mr. Gold is Henry’s Grandfather or that Hook is just as much a villain.”

“She isn’t acting very Savior like,” Archie tactfully added.

“I’m not speaking of Storybooke’s Savior,” the Apprentice replied as he stood up and walked over to his bookshelf, “I have realized that Emma Swan is currently troubled. She would not be an appropriate choice to safeguard the dagger.” He paused for a moment before he continued, “ I’m speaking of this world’s Savior”

“The Land Without Magic has a Savior?” Archie asked, confused at the prospect. His memories of the wider world may be false, but they did remind him that this world was very large.

“This is not the Land Without Magic,” the Apprentice replied, taking a book from the bookshelf and handing it to Ruby. It was an extremely slim book created out of red leather. It had maybe twenty or so pages and on the spine the words “The Chosen One” were embossed in gold. The cover showed a young woman with a lightning bolt scar, holding a wand, with a huge imposing castle in the background. She wore a determined expression on her face. Ruby was startled when the picture began to move. She watched as the young woman was seen fighting an unseen entity, using her wand as a weapon.

“This book appeared not long after Rumpelstiltskin was banished,” The Apprentice said, “While the book isn’t large, it does have enough information to start your search.” The Apprentice paused and took a sip of water, “According to the book, this is the Land of Hidden Magic and that young woman saved this world from a great evil. She would be the perfect person to help us.”

“And how are we to leave Storybrooke to find her?” Archie asked absently. He was watching the young woman twirl and twist, fighting for her life. He itched to open the book and delve into its contents. There was something about the young woman that drew him in. The way she moved was fascinating.

“That I cannot tell you,” The Apprentice grimly replied, “But I can say that I will speak with Mrs. Gold and convince her to give me the dagger to safeguard. Between the three of us, surely, we can find a way to protect this town from those that would do it harm.”

Nodding, Archie reached out and gently took the book from Ruby. There was much to do, and he could only hope this book would set them on the right path. Looking at Ruby, he could tell she was nervous. She only ever bit her nails when she was upset.

“Ruby?” Archie whispered, reaching out and laying his hand gently on the top of her arm.

“I’m just nervous about the dagger Archie,” Ruby quietly replied, “It makes sense that Gold’s extreme behavior coincided with someone using the dagger, but….” Ruby sighed and stopped biting her nails, “What’s he going to be like when we find him?”

“I don’t know,” Archie replied with a sigh of his own, “We can only work toward safeguarding the dagger and finding him and this Chosen One.” He held up the book.

Ruby nodded and grimly said, “It’s about time we do something instead of letting those “heroes” do everything.”

The Apprentice smiled, “I couldn’t agree more.”

Regina was holding her phone in a crushing grip. She was listening to what Robin had to say but she couldn’t believe most of it. Zelena had been alive? Gold had killed Zelena, again? Gold had his powers? Gold had helped Robin?

“What does he want in return?” Regina asked with an edge to her voice. There was always something with Rumpelstiltskin. No good deed went unrewarded with him.

“Nothing that I know of,” Robin said as he hurriedly packed “He wasn’t in a good place Regina. We found him wandering the streets and brought him back to the apartment. He was dirty and unkempt and out of his mind. When he came to, he realized Marian was Zelena.”

Regina sighed. She didn’t even know how to respond to that. Gold unkempt? When had she seen Rumpelstiltskin look anything but pristine? Even in Neverland, he had looked more put together then the rest of them and they were all traipsing across an island!

Grimacing at the memories she said, “You need to get back here.”

“But how do I get back in?” Robin asked. His voice high in frustration and fear, “I don’t want to stay here a moment longer. While I am worried about Mr. Gold. I’m even more worried someone is going to realize Marian is missing!”

“I’m working on it, Robin,” Regina said, placing her hand on her kitchen counter and leaning forward. She could feel panic creeping in. Any other time she would run to the pawnshop and ask Rumpelstiltskin for help, but since he was banished, she had to reason it out on her own.

She was not a fan of that.

“Can you call his cell phone?” Regina asked, pacing, “I’ve tried to call him a couple times since his banishment, but it goes to voicemail and his voicemail is full.”

“He probably doesn’t have one,” Robin said, “I think something other than banishment was on his mind.”

“What do you mean?” Regina asked, stopping and frowning. Something worse than Zelena?

“Right before he disappeared,” Robin replied, “His eyes changed. They looked like they had in the Enchanted Forest. It was almost like he was turning back into the Imp.”

Regina made a click with her tongue. That didn’t sound good in the slightest. She needed Robin back before Gold sought him out for payment. Or to use him as leverage.

“I’ll ask Emma,” Regina said, “Maybe she can think of something to bring you home.”

“I don’t care who you ask,” Robin responded, “Just get me out of her Regina.”

“I will,” Regina vowed, “I promise.”

She hung up and called Emma. She heard the other woman’s groggy voice whisper sleepily, “Hello?”

“Emma, I need your help.” Regina was throwing on her coat and was heading out the door. She wouldn’t lose another true love again, not if she could help it, “It’s important.”

The Apprentice calmly walked his visitors to the door. Once it was firmly closed behind them and the dead bolt back in place, he leaned against the door in exhaustion. The mere mention of the Dark One always set his teeth on edge.

He never could understand it. The Darkness should have already taken him over. It was the pattern, the Darkness took a host, burnt them out, and in an act of desperation the host manipulated someone into murdering them. Then the cycle continued, but not with Rumpelstiltskin.

Why?

Did the Darkness find what it was looking for?

Did Rumpelstiltskin have some unknown power no other had?

Most of the lore and his personal experience with the Dark One, always included a master or mistress. Someone who controlled the Dark One. Yet, Rumpelstiltskin only recently had to deal with that problem. The consequences of that being Michael’s and the fairy's entrapment in the hat and Rumpelstiltskin’s banishment. He was still uncertain how they were all released from the hat. Nobody had admitted to helping them and the Savior had been content with not knowing.

Shaking his head, he moved to his bookshelf and listlessly began looking through the tiles.

Did Rumpelstiltskin’s freedom somehow slow the spread of the curse?

He knew Dr. Hopper preferred the idea of love, and while love was powerful, it wasn’t enough against the Darkness. If it had been, there would have been no Dark One in the first place. Merlin would have been able to help Nimue.

He remembered what Merlin had said about the Darkness, “It came out of nowhere Michael. One minute she was herself, and the next…she was gone.”

Sighing, Michael decided it was late and slowly made his way to his bedroom, turning off lights as he went. He was tired. He had lived a very long life, and since coming to Storybrooke he felt every bit of those years. Laying down, Michael stared into the darkness of his room, still trying to process all the information he had.

He was uncertain about helping Rumpelstiltskin. However, with Storybook increasingly becoming dangerous, the Savior being unhelpful, and nowhere to turn, Michael couldn’t afford to remain neutral. Storybrooke would fall to darkness without help.

He just wished that help wasn’t in the shape of Rumpelstiltskin. The Imp could easily help the town if he so chose. Or he could embrace the town’s dark nature and cause it to implode.

That thought kept Michael up for the rest of the night.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: Broken

Rumpelstiltskin didn’t care for the current arrangement he found himself in. While he didn’t want to roam the streets until morning, he did think he could find a reasonably nice muggle hotel for an accommodating price. Of course, it would help to know where he was. He hadn’t asked Harriet before she went to bed and he suspected if he tried to have a discussion with Kreacher, the spiteful elf would probably ignore him.

He had his wallet, so he wasn’t destitute, but he was leery about running into someone else that could recognize him. Not many people knew what Lord Voldemort had truly looked like. However, he would prefer to err on the side of caution, especially now that he had Harriet to think of.

He still didn’t know why Harriet wanted him to stay. He understood that she needed rest. However, he would have thought having Lord Voldemort in her living room would be more uncomfortable than having him stay someplace else. Apparently, for Harriet, that was not the case. Surprisingly, he was finding it hard to say no to her.

Still, he didn’t care for being alone in a strange place with a temperamental house elf. After supper, Harriet had excused herself to rest. Leaving him with Kreacher, who kept glaring at him from the kitchen. Rumple could practically hear the house elf’s teeth grinding together.

Rumple did not like being stared at. Years of ridicule by his fellow villagers had made him self-conscious. Hundreds of years of looking like a deranged hobgoblin had made him even more sensitive. Having enough, Rumple returned Kreacher’s glare and snarled, “Go to sleep you idiot. You can’t protect your mistress, sleep deprived.”

Kreacher glowered and sniffed once in disapproval. He then turned and went into his room. Sighing in relief, Rumple looked at his surroundings. Harriet’s home was rather sparse and small. He couldn’t fathom why Harriet lived in such a place. Everybody had known the Potters had money. Maybe it was a preference?

He had always disliked small spaces. The home he had with Milah had never been large enough and he had wanted something better for them. With his spinning skills, they could have made it out of their small village. Then the first Ogre War had broken out and he had felt called to defend their home. When he had been sent back, all he could afford was a hovel. It took a mixture of storytelling, babysitting, forging, and farming to keep them fed and a roof over their heads.

While it had been true that people would leave their children with him out of desperation. Nobody had seemed desperate enough to buy his thread. He had always suspected it was spite that kept people from it. Nobody wanted to see the town coward rise, while everyone else’s fortunes plummeted.

Once he had become the Dark One, his homes had progressively become larger until he had acquired his castle. After that, he felt he could finally breathe. While being alone in a large castle had its own disadvantages, he never again felt claustrophobic.

Frowning, Rumple was about to sit on the couch to rest when the voices started. They were the merest whispers, not the screaming shouts they had been before Zelena’s death. Yet they still unnerved him. Groaning, Rumple went to the bathroom and looked at his reflection. Despite his magical refresher at Robin’s, he looked like hell.

That would not do.

Hoping that Harriet wouldn’t mind if he took a shower, Rumple turned the faucet on, making it as hot as he could stand. He took his clothes and shoes off and carefully climbed into the shower. He let the water cascade down his body and his mind wandered. He leaned forward, using the shower walls to brace himself and allowed the tears to flow.

Today was too much. Between killing Zelena and finally avenging Bae to meeting Harriet, it had all felt like a bad nightmare. Now, alone in the bathroom, everything finally seemed real. Between Severus and Kreacher’s reactions, and seeing the Dark Mark again, there could be no doubt of who he was.

Not that he had much hope before.

Tears slipped down his face, mingling with the water. He tried to cry quietly. Not wanting to disturb Harriet.

After his banishment and the return of his original memories he had been lost in a maelstrom of grief, guilt and self-hatred. He hadn’t had time to really evaluate everything that happened in Storybooke. Now that he was finally able to think. He understood a few things.

One: Belle never loved him. She loved the idea of him.

Two: Henry didn’t like him.

Three: Hook was still a selfish villain, and he would hurt Emma and Henry.

Four: He would never be severed from the dagger.

And finally: His son was never coming back.

Huge sobs racked his body. He tried to be quiet but was unsuccessful. He sank to his hands and knees. Reducing himself to cowering in a shower, sobbing like his life was over.

Of course, it kind of was.

Now, he had another Savior to look after. A young woman that he had wronged so thoroughly, nothing he could do would ever make up for it. He was responsible for everything that had gone wrong in her life. He wanted to help her, but would she even allow it? How could she stand to be near him? He sobbed harder, his body sore from the strength of his guilt and grief.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and he heard it slowly open.

“Are you okay in there?” Harriet’s voice was gentle, and kind and it made him cry even harder. She had no reason to be kind to him, except that she had a kind heart. He had tried to destroy everything that made Harriet herself, and yet, here she was checking on him.

“Rumpelstiltskin?” Harriet asked as she opened the door wider and hesitantly walked in. The heat in the room steamed her glasses and she was forced to take them off.

“Damn,” He heard her mutter as she opened the door, “How are you not scalded?”

Rumple forced himself to stop crying, sniffing as he kneeled in the shower. He replied, his throat raw from sobbing, “I’m invincible. I hardly feel it.”

“Don’t lie,” Harriet muttered, “You still feel. I have the nightmares to prove it.”

Rumple said nothing to that. What could he say? That her nightmares were just another thing he was sorry for? She wouldn’t believe him.

“Are you upset that I decided to shower?” Rumple finally asked, leaning his forehead against the shower door. His voice was small and tired.

“Of course not,” Harriet replied. Rumple could hear her glasses squeak as she cleaned them, “You are welcome to it. I’ll bring you some clothes.”

Rumple grunted in response. Sniffing again, he decided to pull himself together and finish his shower before the water turned cold. Standing, he grabbed the soap and realized he forgot a washcloth. Shrugging, he began using his hands instead. Then he used Harriet’s shampoo. Soon Harriet was back laying something on the toilet seat.

“I resized some of my old pajamas,” Harriet replied in a small voice, “Don’t worry, they came from the men’s section to begin with.” He heard a door open and close, and he assumed she had left. He began opening the shower door when he heard a meep and a, “I’m still in here!’

Rumple didn’t close the door, but poked his head out instead., “May I ask why dearie?”

Harriet was standing there in a knee length, long sleeved, faded, flannel nightgown. Her hair had a frizzy and rumpled appearance, but he could tell it fell well past her shoulder blades. While the clothing she had worn earlier had been two sizes too large for her, the nightgown was perfectly sized and seemed to enhance her fragile and fey appearance. Her feet were bare despite the chill in the apartment, and he could see bruises on legs. He supposed they were from lack of care on her part. She bit her bottom lip and glanced shyly in his direction, scuffing her feet across the floor. She had a red fluffy towel in her hands.

Rumpelstiltskin was floored by how exquisite she was.

“I was getting you a towel.” Harriet said, blushing. He noticed that her cheeks and chest flushed when she was embarrassed. He found that absolutely endearing.

“I’m going to be ill,” The Darkness hissed. Rumple just ignored it, determined to act as if the Darkness didn’t exist.

“Well then,” Rumple replied dry mouthed. Without taking his eyes off Harriet he turned off the water and reached out his arm, “Please hand it over.”

Their eyes locked and Harriet became even more nervous. She inched forward a little and placed the towel in his out-stretched hand. However, before he could even bring the towel into the shower, she fled. The door slammed behind her.

“Well, aren’t you jumpy,” Rumple muttered as he dried himself and carefully stepped out of the shower. Tiredly, he grabbed the pajamas. He could feel his leg throb as he pulled on the pants and winced as his foot touched the floor. He wasn’t sure why his magic stopped taking the pain away. He must have something to do with his exhaustion. He was an immortal Beast, and yet lately he felt fatigued and ill.

He assumed it was from trying to kill himself so often.

Looking in the mirror, he used his fingers to comb his hair and clean his teeth. His foot, while hurting, didn’t stop him from walking normally. The pajamas fit nicely, and he finally felt clean despite his exhaustion. The exhaustion, he assumed, was what caused those strange thoughts about Harriet.

“Keep telling yourself that,” The Darkness hissed. Exiting the bathroom, his hands full of his wet towel, Rumple noticed Harriet was waiting for him in the living room. She was holding a blanket in her arms.

“I thought maybe you wanted to lie down,” Harriet said, not looking at him, using her hair to hide her face, “I know you said you didn’t sleep but….” She bit her lip and then looked at him through her hair, “You do want to lie down?”

“No,” Rumple replied, “I was going to conjure my spinning wheel.”

“Spinning wheel?” Harriet asked, placing the folded blanket on the couch.

“Where do I put this?” Rumple asked motioning to his towel, ignoring her question, and not looking at her directly. Did this woman not own a robe?

Harriet stepped toward him and took the towel, carefully not touching him, “I’ll put this in the hamper. I’ll leave the blanket out just in case you need it. Goodnight.”

She scurried into the bathroom, came back out, waved to him goodnight, and then fled to her bedroom. He watched her shut the door and listened as she slipped into her bed. He could hear the box springs squeak as she tried to get comfortable. Rumplestilskin couldn’t help but wonder, once again, why she lived in such a small place. You could hear everything.

Exhausted, he moved his hand in a specific flourish and a spinning wheel materialized before him. Sitting down, he began to spin. Hoping that if he emptied his mind he wouldn’t have to think. He was tired of his circular thoughts, and he needed a break from the voices.

Harriet’s heart was beating fast as she huddled under her covers, wrapping them tightly around herself in an attempt to feel held. She honestly didn’t know what had possessed her to enter the bathroom. She had been trying to sleep when she had begun shaking. It had pulled her from her drowsing and she became aware of her need to relieve herself. Tiredly, she had made her way to the bathroom only to hear the water running. She had been about to turn around, when she heard heart rending sobs. Before she knew it, she had opened the door.

Her enemy had been crying like his life was over, and she had been worried.

What was wrong with her? Harriet rolled over and tried to empty her mind to sleep. He was Lord Voldemort, no matter that he was obviously different. He had killed her family, which forced her to live with the Dursleys. He had dogged her steps throughout Hogwarts and was the subject of her nightmares. He was, by his own admittance, a Beast. Yet her tender heart had prevailed, and she entered the bathroom and tried to make him comfortable.

“Maybe Hermione is right,” Harriet thought to herself, “Maybe I do have a saving people thing.”

All had been fine at first. She had a task and it didn’t occur to her that maybe she should feel awkward about conversing with a naked man taking a shower. Between Hogwarts and the Ministry, semi-communal showers were not unfamiliar to her. However, when Rumpelstiltskin had almost exited the shower, she panicked.

Harriet had seen naked men before. Apprehending dark wizards in compromising situations always seemed to be the easiest and safest option. Yet, this was different. Rumpelstiltskin was a man who was staying in her apartment. He had tried to kill her often, with varying degrees of success, and he was her worst enemy. The prospect of seeing him naked had terrified her

He also happened to be rather attractive. The “meep” that had come out of her mouth had been unbidden. Thankfully, he had kept everything hidden in the shower, except his head. He had been dripping wet, with that scrubbed look you get after a rather hot shower, and his hair had been matted to his face. He looked tired. She had found herself disconcerted with how normal he looked.

He was certainly not a normal man.

Then he reached for the towel. She had noticed how well muscled his arm was despite how thin it appeared. He had light scars that wrapped around his wrist and his skin was pale and lightly freckled. His fingers were long, and his palm looked soft to the touch. She had the most ridiculous urge to trace his lifelines. Becoming overwhelmed, she shoved the towel at him and ran.

Like a damn flake.

She really was a stupid, silly woman. Not only was she a drunk with a bad temper, but she was a virgin. She had never been drunk enough to feel comfortable allowing strangers to touch her and she was never sober enough to build a trusting relationship. For her, there had only been Remus, but her affections were never returned.

Now, here she was having a schoolgirl panic at the prospect of seeing the Dark Lord’s naked arm. She was far too old for that. Was she a Gryffindor or not? Rolling her eyes, she flopped onto her stomach determined to finally fall asleep. She had almost achieved her coveted goal when she heard a weird clanking sound come from the living room and went to investigate.

Cracking the door, she found herself staring at Rumpelstiltskin. He was sitting at a spinning wheel with a faraway look on his face. His bare feet were planted firmly on the carpet. One hand was gently spinning the wheel while the other was guiding what looked like straw. As she watched, it turned to gold, startling Harriet.

That explained his name. It did not, however, explain where he had learned to spin straw into gold. There were many things about the risen Dark Lord that she had no explanation for. She supposed three hundred years of life would give someone abilities past the knowledge of others, but it was still jarring to see how different he was. She watched his hands move, gentle yet confident in their task, and she found herself blushing once again.

What was her fascination with his hands?

Her hands began to shake again. Closing the door she went back to bed, suddenly very tired, and pulled the covers up over her head. She was over the entire day. She had her worst enemy in her apartment, a random spinning wheel in her living room, an extremely unhappy house elf, and she was craving a drink.

Shaking from exhaustion and withdrawal, she curled up in a ball and allowed the sound of the spinning wheel to lull her to sleep.

For once she was at peace.

As soon as the clock changed to 7:00 a.m., Rumpelstiltskin had quickly changed from Harriet’s pajamas to his usual charcoal suit. He wanted to make sure that he could slip out before Harriet or Kreacher saw him, but still be able to utilize the shops.

He walked out of the apartment only to be met with a well lightened foyer. Looking around, he found the walls were red brick and the door was a startling shade of yellow. Directly across the foyer, he noticed another door that he assumed led to another apartment. A young boy was leaning against the brick walls, arms crossed, and he looked ready to munity. What startled Rumple about the boy was how white and spiky his hair was.

Upon seeing him, the boy straightened and took a step in Rumple’s direction, “Who are you? And why are you at Auntie's apartment?” the boy abruptly asked. Rumple guessed he was no more than twelve.

“Call me Mr. Gold,” Rumple replied with a smile. No matter how stressed or depressed he was, he always had a special place in his heart for children. He had always assumed it was because of his love for Bae. That every child he saved from selfish parents was a tribute to his boy. However, now he wondered if on some level, he was trying to make up for what he had done to Harriet. That by saving children he could erase his past, “I’m a friend of hers.”

Suddenly, the door opened, and he came face to face with Remus Lupin.

Fuck.

While it was true that Rumple couldn’t remember much about the werewolf from before, he did remember that Remus had looked tired and careworn. Most werewolves that fought against their wolf’s nature typically did. However, now Remus seemed more comfortable with himself. More confident. Rumple supposed it was having a child to care for. Parenthood seemed to make some people blossom. As Lord Voldemort, he had written Remus off as a non-threat. Now, he could clearly see that had been folly. There was something about the werewolf that put him on edge.

“Who are you?” Remus growled when his eyes rested on Rumple. He watched as Remus made a motion for his son to stay back. Rumple tried to look like a non-threatening muggle, and he found himself absurdly glad that the werewolf couldn’t recognize him.

“He came out of Auntie's apartment,” the boy said quickly with a frown and a sly glance at his father. Remus’ eyes narrowed and he took a step in Rumple’s direction. He seemed angry, although Rumple could find no reason behind it. He heard a low growl come from the werewolf and Rumple found himself startled. What was the wolf’s problem?

“I’m a friend of Ms. Potter,” Rumple replied, keeping his cool. He could feel his anger rise inside of him but was determined to keep it in check. There was no reason to upset Harriet by assaulting her neighbor. Using his most disarming smile he said, “I met Mrs. Potter at a local watering hole I frequent.”

Remus stopped short. There was something like pain that passed through his eyes and then he snorted. Rumple watched as the werewolf placed his hand on his son’s shoulder and guided him to the foyer’s door. Snidely Remus said, “Of course you did. I wondered when she would start bringing “friends” home.” He looked Rumple up and down, “Although, I thought they would be younger.”

Rumple bristled at that. What in the hell was the wolf’s problem? Remus Lupin had been one of James Potter’s friends. He had been close to Harriet all through the war and one of her most trusted companions. Yet he was insulting her? How dare he?

And what did he mean by his age? Rumple had stopped aging at forty. Due to a hard life, he knew he looked a little older. However, it wasn’t like he was decrepit looking!

“I’m not sure what you are implying,” Rumple snapped, annoyed and infuriated by Remus’ innuendo.

“You know exactly what I’m saying,” Remus growled. Glaring at the door behind Rumple, “Harriet’s troubled.”

“I found her quite charming,” Rumple growled back, “And kind and sweet. I was rather a mess last night and she was kind enough to help a drunk man. Didn’t know where I lived, so she brought me here.”

It wasn’t an entire lie either. She had been kind and sweet.

Rumple had also found her a bit bewitching too, but the wolf didn’t need to know that.

Remus didn’t say anything. He just sniffed, trying to decide if Rumple was lying or not and then gently pushed his son out the door. Making a noise in the back of his throat, Rumple was about to follow the wolf and continue giving him a piece of his mind, when he heard, “Thanks for defending me.”

He stopped abruptly and turned, surprised that Harriet was awake. She was standing in her doorway wearing only her nightgown and shaking. He was sorry they had been loud enough to wake her.

“Are you cold?” Rumple asked, immediately pulling his suit jacket off and wrapping it around her. She stiffened, but Rumple made sure that it was secure before he stepped back. He found her clasping the jacket in a tight grip.

“It’s not the cold shakes,” Harriet replied, licking her lips, wincing.

“Ah,” Rumple said, lost for words. She was struggling far more than he had realized. He looked at her standing there, hunched in on herself, and found himself saying, “Why don’t you take a hot shower. I’ll be back soon with coffee for us.”

“Do you even have muggle money?” Harriet asked dully and with a sniff. He could see the tears in her eyes and felt the urge to strangle the idiot werewolf.

“Credit cards are universal dearie,” Rumple replied with a soft smile and Harriet’s eyes widened in surprise. He couldn’t help but feel for the woman before him. She seemed so lost. It brought out a softness in him that he had long forgotten was there.

Harriet only nodded, so Rumple continued, “I’ll be back soon”

Harriet watched him leave, holding his suit jacket in one hand and the door in the other. She was gripping them both like her life depended on it and she found herself wondering if he would really come back.

Closing the door, Harriet walked toward Rumple’s spinning wheel and sat down. She found herself brushing her fingers lightly across the gold thread. Harriet had no idea why he had left the spinning wheel sitting out, but she was glad he had. Glad that she was reminded of how serene he looked, of how quiet he was when he spun. It helped her to remember he was different now.

If he left his spinning wheel, did that mean he would come back?

Rumpelstiltskin was extremely dangerous. He was more powerful now, then he had ever been as Lord Voldemort. Simple passes of his hand or whispered words were enough to bring magic springing forth. It worried her; just how powerful he was. She was afraid he might be even more powerful than Albus Dumbledore.

He was obviously brutal and confident in his powers. He knew he could get what he wanted, just by taking. When she had asked him to Obliviate Severus, there had been no hesitation. He did what he had to do and moved on. Yet, he allowed Harriet to see him upset and self-conscious. When she had a panic attack, he was gentle and kind. When she had been uncertain, he had wiped her tears. There was a gentleness to him. A kindness that wasn’t there previously. There was something about his dual nature that Harriet found compelling.

Rumple also seemed to be taking a particular interest in her well-being. At great personal risk to himself, he had come from New York to check on her. He also stayed the night with minimal fuss. In truth, she should have been terrified that Lord Voldemort was staying in her living room. Yet, despite everything that had passed between them, she was not afraid. Fear was replaced by curiosity.

Sighing at her confusing circular thoughts, she placed Rumple’s coat gently on the spinning wheel and decided to get ready for the day. Rumple was right, she needed a shower.

Rumpelstiltskin sniffed. He was in bloody London.

He had suspected it, but he hadn’t wanted it to be true. He had never liked London. It reminded him of the orphanage he was raised in and he never felt particularly comfortable in highly populated areas. He still didn’t. Unknown dangers and surprises around every corner unnerved him. He felt much more comfortable in isolated areas.

Like a huge castle in the middle of the Enchanted Forest.

Glaring at his surroundings, Rumple quickly ducked into a convenience store and bought a temporary phone. If he wasn’t going to die, then he needed to check on his grandson and wife. Belle was probably still self -righteously angry and Henry had always had an “out of sight, out of mind” kind of relationship with him. Rumple assumed he would be fine. Annoyed, he rolled up his shirt sleeves while the cashier waited on him. He felt naked without his jacket.

On the walk back, he noticed a small coffee shop and stopped. It occurred to him that he had forgotten to ask what Harriet preferred. There was no other option but to order what he liked and hoped she liked it too. He even bought some blueberry muffins.

By the time he made it back to her apartment he realized that she lived in the Black family’s old residence. At some point it had been converted into an apartment building, but he couldn’t understand why. It had been a large home. There would have been no need to change it to accommodate three people. It could have easily housed twice that.

Trouble in paradise?

From Remus’ behavior earlier, he knew something had happened between Harriet and the werewolf. Although, he couldn’t imagine what. Harriet seemed like a perfectly lovely woman, but then so did Milah. Headstrong Milah who was violent and quick tempered when drunk. It had been no home for Bae to grow up in and he could not fault Remus protecting his son.

Still, Milah was no Harriet. She had not been a hero, just a bitter woman in search of something more. Harriet had trauma and pain. She had been forced to fight in a war far too young. It did not sit well with Rumpelstiltskin how cast aside Harriet seemed. How forgotten. She had fought incredibly hard for the Wizarding World. It was ungrateful.

Besides, she had been so kind to him last night. That kindness had touched him deeply. He couldn’t imagine her being unkind to others. All last night, despite himself, he kept thinking about her. Her kindness, her beauty, her strength. If he was from a land of fairy tales and stories, would Harriet not be a part of them as well? Were they not connected?

He had lived long enough to be many things to many people. He was the crocodile and a lost boy from Peter Pan, the fairy Godmother from Cinderella, the dark Imp from Rumpelstiltskin, the Mephistopheles of untold stories, and the Beast from Beauty and the Beast.

Who would Harriet be in those stories?

They had their own story together. One where she was the shining hero, and he was the evil villain. A story not recorded in the Once Upon a Time book. However, if she was from the Enchanted Forest, like everyone else, what story would it have been?

The only one she seemed to fit best, was Beauty and the Beast.

Not the Disney version that seemed to have taken inspiration from the relationship he had with his wife, but the first version of the story to appear in this world. The one where the heroine was simply named Beauty. Beauty who was sweet and kind with a family that had treated her unkindly. A Beauty who had been forced through fate and a cowardly father to save her whole family.

In Harriet’s case, it was the whole wizarding world instead of a family. Albus Dumbledore had been the man to betray her to the Beast, not a father. Of course, Harriet didn’t tame the Beast by finding his goodness and falling in love with him. There had been no goodness inside of him then. She had just been a child and he had been a monster, but she had saved the wizarding world all the same. There were enough similarities for it to fit.

All of the fairy tales of this world were always different from their inspirations.

It was fanciful and stupid. Yet, his mind had mulled it over all night as he spun his straw into gold. There was something about Harriet that had Rumpelstiltskin entranced. Was it out of respect? Admiration? He wasn’t sure, but it unnerved him.

Looking at Grummulad Place, he huffed. The building had always been an eye sore, and he hated the idea of perfectly sweet Harriet living in the monstrosity. She didn’t fit. He closed his eyes and found himself thinking of a sweet little cottage, in the middle of the woods. Harriet running barefoot through the underbrush. He could imagine her laughing and carefree while he hovered in the shadows. Coming to visit her from the large looming castle in the background. She would fit well in the Enchanted Forest. She would probably be so much happier there.

Rumple had only been in Harriet’s life for a day, and everything seemed so complicated.

Opening his eyes, he forced himself to focus on his task. He walked into the foyer and then toward her apartment. He found it unlocked and he walked in. Harriet was sitting in the living room, curled up with a book. Her long black hair was tied in a tight bun. She wore a long black peasant skirt with a deep red, high-necked, long-sleeved blouse. She was turning the page, her hands shaking, when he walked in. Her black cat eyeglasses were perched on her nose, and she was scrunching her face in concentration.

She looked so lovely it hurt.

Rumple hated to admit it, but he found her genuinely beautiful. It was a wild beauty, so different from the other women in his life. While Milah, Cora, and Belle had wanted adventure or power, none of them had the wildness that Harriet had. Last night, it struck him how fey-like she seemed. Now, he realized that she was as much a wild thing as he was. He felt his heart twist and tug in his chest. Almost like it was reaching for Harriet. He had no idea what it meant.

Rumple had no idea what was wrong with him. Ever since his memories came back, he felt off kilter. More vulnerable and unlike himself. Lonelier than he had ever been before. He felt like he was sinking in quicksand. It worried him that maybe this time, he was too broken. Maybe that was why he often found his thoughts on Harriet. She was just as broken as he was.

He didn’t want to dwell on it. He had coffee and muffins and Harriet’s company for the day. Hopefully, it would be enough to help him forget about his failed marriage and inattentive grandson and an ungrateful town filled with people that hated him. At least for a little while.

Harriet looked up and smiled kindly at him, “You forgot your suit jacket.”

“I didn’t forget dearie,” Rumple replied with a grin as he sat down next to her, “You seemed to need it more than I.”

“Thank you,” Harriet said, “The coffee smells great!”

“I hope you like it,” Rumple pulled a blueberry muffin from the bag, “And I hope you enjoy this as well.”

Harriet took a sip and found the coffee delicious. Sweet with cream and chocolate just the way she liked it.

“Yum,” Harriet hummed happily. She grinned upon seeing the muffin, “Blueberry is my favorite.”

Rumpelstiltskin cocked his eyebrow at her, “Well, it’s lucky we have the same tastes then.”

Harriet watched as he took the second muffin from the bag and bit into it with relish. Harriet giggled slightly and Rumple smirked at her. He watched as she devoured her muffin and sipped her coffee slowly, clearly enjoying it. He felt a small, genuine smile spread across his face.

She was most certainly a welcome distraction.

Harriet was having a wonderful time. She had delicious coffee, a warm muffin, and the company of a surprisingly charming man. His mischievous smirks were enough to send her into fits of giggles and his ability to weave a story was unparalleled. Sipping her coffee, she attentively listened as he told various stories from his time in the Enchanted Forest.

“You really tricked a dwarf into giving you fairy dust?” Harriet asked as he took a sip of coffee and playfully continued, “Or did you just kill him?”

Rumpelstiltskin gasped and put his hand over his heart, “What faith you have.”

Harriet found herself giving him an “I’m onto you” look. Rumple laughed, delighted in Harriet’s playful nature.

“I didn’t,” Rumple insisted, but then in an offhand manner, “Although, I did kill a fairy for her wand once.”

Harriet stilled. Her face became devoid of all expression. She just looked at him. However, Rumple was unrepentant.

“Don’t feel sorry for them Harriet,” Rumple replied, trying to get her to look at him, “Whenever there’s injustice in the world, there’s always a fairy. Trust me.”

Harriet’s lips pursed together, but then the tension left her body and she looked at the floor, “I suppose you have quite a few stories with murder in them.”

“I do,” Rumpelstiltskin replied with a twisted sparkle in his eye. He found himself smirking, “And not all of them are my fault.”

She looked at him then. The charming man was gone in an instant, replaced by the dark wizard he still was. A man willing to do anything to get what he wanted. A real-life Beast. She had only been joking when she had asked if he killed the dwarf; forgetting for a moment that he was an actual murderer.

“What are you thinking?” Rumple asked, scooting closer to her on the couch. He was giving her a searching look, like he really cared about her opinion. It was unnerving.

Harriet said nothing for a moment, just watched his curious face try and read her. She was finding that there was a stillness about Rumpelstiltskin when he was trying to understand something. It contrasted with Lord Voldemort, who was never calm. He was constantly agitated and never able to remain still. It left victims and followers alike uncomfortable and afraid.

“It will take some getting used to,” Harriet answered evenly, finally finding the words for what she wanted to say, “Your ever-changing moods.”

“Ever-changing?” Rumple echoed. He looked confused and Harriet almost laughed. How could he not realize just how erratic he could be? Harriet elaborated, “One minute we are laughing and joking and the next you are telling me stories of murder.”

She reached out hesitantly and placed her hand on top of his, “I know it has always been a reality for you, murdering, but it’s not something I’m used to discussing. It’s jarring when you bring it up in a conversation.”

“I’ll try and remember that,” Rumple replied quietly, looking at their joined hands.

“I’m not asking you to lie,” Harriet replied with conviction, “If we are to work together, then I must insist you tell me the truth. Always.”

“Even if it makes you uncomfortable?” Rumpelstiltskin asked in a whisper. He was looking at her again, searching for lies or half-truths. Harriet looked at him defiantly. Daring him to accuse her of lying.

“Especially if it makes me uncomfortable,” Harriet replied with such conviction that Rumpelstiltskin realized that maybe there was more to her then he had supposed. He kept underestimating her.

“Then I must ask for your truthfulness in return,” Rumpelstiltskin said, clearing his throat, “Even if you find it embarrassing.”

Harriet looked at him, bit her lip, and nodded. She took her hand from his and sat straight, “That seems fair.”

“It does, doesn’t?” Rumpelstiltskin commented. Clearing their wrappers and cups, Rumpelstiltskin began searching for the trashcan in the kitchenette. Upon seeing it by Kreacher’s door, he made his way over. Dropping the trash in the can, he happened to glance over at Kreacher. The old elf looked glum.

Going back into the living room he said, “You house-elf looks sad.”

“He doesn’t like you,” Harriet replied standing. Looking into the mirror by the entrance she fixed her hair. She slipped on a pair of black ballerina flats and asked, “You ready?”

“And where are we going?” Rumpelstiltskin took his suit jacket from the spinning wheel and buttoned it up. He then stood behind her, using the mirror to fix his tie. Their eyes locked and Harriet blushed, realizing she had been caught staring.

“Like something you see dearie?” Rumpelstiltskin asked, his voice unexpectedly flirty. Harriet was startled for a moment until she realized he was trying to hide his discomfort.

Turning around she smiled shyly and said, “Just trying to figure you out.”

“Better people than you have tried,” Rumpelstiltskin muttered, but Harriet just ignored him.

“We will be back around six Kreacher!” Harriet hollered, “Please have supper ready by then!”

She then opened the door and motioned for Rumple to take the lead. She put a little flair into her movements, trying to bring back the levity her staring had chased away. She saw Rumple smirk as he walked past her, and her heart began to race. Her face flushed slightly.

What was happening to her?

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: Thought Contagion

“Where are we going?” Rumpelstiltskin asked again, as they stood in the foyer. Harriet surveyed the room to make sure nobody was around. Then she walked to the empty back wall that separated the apartments. Glancing over her shoulder at Rumpelstiltskin, she grinned. It had been a while since she had used this particular entrance and was rather proud of herself for its construction. Sticking her tongue between her teeth, she flicked her wrist and her wand slid out of its sheath. She tapped the wall three times in the shape of a triangle.

Or the Deathly Hallows.

Harriet watched as the wall began separating itself, in much the same way as the entrance to Diagon Alley. Looking at Rumple again, who seemed surprised, she said, “Follow me.”

As Rumpelstiltskin followed her into the dark entrance, it occurred to him that he had no idea what Harriet had been doing for the past twelve years. Clearly, she was capable of a great many things. It wasn’t easy to create a magical entrance. In fact, it took great focus.

“What did you do after the war?” Rumpelstiltskin asked as he followed her down a winding staircase. It hung suspended in midair, glowing green and gold. The light was enough to see by, but not enough to be blinding. The staircase itself didn’t feel like stone or wood, but ice. Yet it wasn’t slippery. Instead, every time he took a step, a small electric tingle traveled from his toes to his ankle.

Rumple realized that the tingle, which was not an unpleasant feeling, kept him from slipping down the stairs. It also allowed him to feel the magic it took to create the staircase. It was soft and comforting and wrapped itself around Rumpelstiltskin like a blanket. Yet, he could feel a hardness around its edges, like iron.

It was obviously Harriet’s magical signature.

“I worked for the Ministry,” Harriet replied absently, “The Dark Arts Division.”

“Dark Arts Division?” Rumpelstiltskin echoed, confused, “That wasn’t around when I was here last.”

“It was developed because of you,” Harriet’s voice was grim, “And I was their best auror.”

“Oh?” Rumpelstiltskin stopped walking, surprised. Harriet stopped too and turned to look at him

“I’m particularly adept at Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Harriet replied, motioning for him to continue their descent, “If this room is any evidence, I also seem to be pretty decent at Transfiguration and Charms.”

Rumpelstiltskin continued to stare, clearly surprised. He knew she was a resourceful and competent witch. She was only seventeen when she defeated him. However, at the time she did have the allegiance of the Elder Wand. Not to mention Albus Dumbledore’s help and that of her gaggle of friends. It never occurred to him that she was a force in her own right.

That she might be his equal.

Harriet continued, her voice flat and dull, “Soon after I finished my official training, they began sending me out to capture your remaining followers. During that time, I helped establish a library from the tomes of the dark practitioner’s we defeated. It isn’t large, but it is protected.”

“And how do we get in?” Rumple asked quietly as they stopped descending. He wanted to tell her how impressed he was with her, but he was afraid it would sound awkward.

How does one tell their greatest enemy, they’re impressive?

Before them was a door, the perfect height for Harriet and Rumpelstiltskin. It shimmered green with a golden doorknob. There was a small peephole perfectly placed for someone of a shorter stature to look through.

“Something tells me you and the Ministry did not part on good terms,” Rumpelstiltskin continued, starting to realize where the door led.

“Nope,” Harriet agreed, looking over her shoulder and smiling playfully at him, “Wanna guess where the mysterious floating door leads?”

“Well, aren’t you clever,” Rumpelstiltskin muttered, giving her a look of respect.

“With you stalking my childhood, I had to learn,” Harriet responded.. She peeked through the peephole and then turned the doorknob to the Ministry library. Rumpelstiltskin quickly walked in behind her. He was about to shut the door when Harriet stopped him.

“The door disappears if you shut it,” Harriet whispered urgently, “I don’t think you want to be stuck in here.”

Rumpelstiltskin nodded and followed Harriet as they made their way to the far wall. The library wasn’t large, maybe a hundred books in total. There were also quite a few magical weapons in the room.

Including wands.

Rumple stopped abruptly and looked to his left. There, in a clear case off to the right, was a bone white wand. He knew that wand just as sure as he knew his right hand. It was thirteen and a half inches long, made out of yew with a phoenix feather core. The same phoenix that Dumbledore claimed as a familiar.

A brother wand to Harriet Potter’s.

He reached out to touch the case when a hand grabbed his wrist, hard.

“Don’t,” Harriet hissed, “It has spells all around it. You touch the case. You trigger the spells, and We. Are. Fucked.”

Rumpelstiltskin nodded and followed her to the far wall. Trying very hard to ignore the whispers in his mind begging him to take the wand. Telling him that he missed it.

For once, the voices weren’t wrong. He did miss it. Once bonded to a wand a witch or wizard found themselves inexplicably attached to it, like a familiar. It was a trick of magic that nobody seemed able to figure out, except maybe the Ollivanders.

Shaking his head slightly, he watched as Harriet moved her wand over the bookshelves; muttering the spell to break the wards. Looking at Rumple she said, “You take the right and I’ll take the left.”

“They are not well protected,” Rumple muttered as he began reading the titles on the book spines. He couldn’t help but smile sadly as he thought how excited Belle would be to see these books.. He felt his heart shatter once again as he realized that he might never see Belle excited again. That those moments were now lost to the past.

Forcing his thoughts on the current task, he found that many of the books were unhelpful. Quite a few of them were in Goblin. However, there were a few that looked promising. Opening one of the more interesting books, he glanced from page to page quickly and efficiently.

“What are you doing?” Harriet asked. He looked at her, his eyebrow cocked, and found her looking at him in confusion. She held a book in her hands, that she obviously intended to look through, but stopped when she noticed him

“Speed reading,” Rumpelstiltskin replied, “It is a particular habit I developed over the last three hundred years. It’s quite useful.”

Harriet gave him a contemplative look and then looked at the bookshelves. He watched as she began searching for a specific title. In the end, she picked three specific volumes.

“Read these,” Harriet ordered and then turned and began reviewing the shelves again.

Rumpelstiltskin didn’t even think. He took the books from her and began looking through them. Committing their contents to the vast library that existed in his mind.

“You have to teach me how to do that,” Harriet muttered after thirty minutes and three books.

“Mental magic,” Rumpelstiltskin replied, paging through his fourth book, “Pretty helpful for finding information, horrible if you enjoy reading for leisure.”

“Of course, it is,” Harriet muttered as she put the other books back where she found them. She was not in the least proficient at that type of magic. In fact, she still vividly remembered her lessons with Severus. Since the war, she had never dabbled in mental magic again. Not that she didn’t find it fascinating. When she could, she tried to learn, but everything she read made no sense.

“Have you found anything yet?” Harriet asked, but then she cocked her ear toward the Ministry’s entrance. Someone was coming.

“We have to go, now,” Harriet snapped, snatching the book Rumple was reading and placing it back on the shelf. She quickly remade the bookshelves’ wards and tugged on his arm for him to follow her.

Rumpelstiltskin could now hear someone on the other side of the door speaking. It sounded like they were standing at the end of a long tunnel. The magic in the room began to thin and Rumple realized there were additional spells protecting the entire room. If he had been less distracted by his wand, he would have noticed them.

Right as they passed the wand cases, Rumpelstiltskin stopped. He looked at his wand and Harriet tugged his arm. The wards were almost dismissed and pretty soon two ministry officials would be witnesses to their trespassing

The Daily Prophet would have a field day.

Not to mention the Ministry themselves.

“Harriet please,” Rumpelstiltskin said suddenly, “It’s my wand.”

“Not now, Rumple,” Harriet hissed as she tugged on his arm again, but Rumple refused to move, “What if I made a replica? I could easily dismiss the wards, replace the wand with a fake, and redo the wards in under a few minutes.”

“We don’t have a few minutes,” Harriet hissed, and Rumple felt the protective wards give. She tugged on his arm again and they quickly crossed the room. Rumple and Harriet ran through the back entrance. Quickly and quietly, Harriet shut the door right as the official entrance opened.

Harriet sighed in relief and leaned her forehead against the door. Then she rounded on Rumpelstiltskin, “We could have been caught!” “But my wand,” Rumple replied, plaintively looking at the door behind her.

“You don’t need it,” Harriet hissed in parseltongue, motioning for him to go up the stairs. Rumpelstiltskin found himself sulking. He didn’t particularly like being told he couldn’t do something. It made him feel itchy and claustrophobic.

They came to a stop on the top landing and the brick door opened before them. Walking back into the foyer, Rumpelstiltskin watched as the wall stitched itself back together. He saw Harriet make the triangle motion again, but backward, and then she pointed at the wall.

“Don’t even think of doing it yourself,” Harriet snapped, revealing she had noticed him paying close attention, “I’m the only one that can unlock that door.”

“And what would happen if I tried,” Rumple asked absently as he followed her into the apartment. He could tell she was upset with him by the clenching and unclenching of her fists. She was holding herself rigid, like she was trying to keep her temper in check. Rumple found that he didn’t like the idea that Harriet was angry with him.

“It would swallow and deposit you in the dumpster in the back alley,” Harriet replied with a dangerous flash in her emerald green eyes, “I’m sure it would be very uncomfortable for you.”

“Would it now, dearie?” Rumpelstiltskin’s voice was higher pitched than he intended. More Enchanted Forest Dark One and less Storybrooke Mr. Gold. He was trying desperately to bring some humor into the situation, but realized too late that Harriet would take his words as a challenge.

“Do it and see Rumpelstiltskin,” Harriet’s voice was steady and in control, but her eyes were narrowed for a fight, “Since you don’t seem to be able to listen to anyone.”

Rumpelstiltskin opened his mouth to argue but Harriet completely ignored him and charged ahead, “It’s not like it’s SHOCKING that you don’t know how to listen. And then there is that pesky problem of NOBODY knowing how to actually listen to ME.” Harriet’s voice was growing high pitched and loud as she took an aggressive step in his direction, “But if we’re going to work together, you are going to have to actually LISTEN to me when I know what the HELL I’m doing!”

Harriet took another aggressive step forward. Rumpelstiltskin was surprised at the venom in her voice and how quickly she resorted to aggression. She had been so calm and patient since their first meeting. So very kind. Even when she shouldn’t have.

However, now her eyes were narrowed, her veins in her neck were bulging, and she was shaking in anger. The sweet and kind woman was replaced with a vicious, spitting harpy. He was floored that one minor disagreement could have her react to him in such a way.

Was it just him? Or was she like this with everyone? Was this why she was alone?

Either way, this did not bode well for their sudden partnership. If there was one thing that Rumpelstiltskin was good at, it was causing people to lose patience.

For her part, Harriet realized that she was becoming too angry to have a rational discussion. Deciding to take a walk in the hopes of alleviating some of her aggression, she began to stomp toward the door. However, Rumpelstiltskin stepped in her way, determined to keep her from leaving. She felt herself become cornered and her anger exploded in a cold rage. Looking Rumple in the eye, she leaned menacingly forward and snarled, “Get the FUCK, out of my way.”

They glared at each other. Both silently warring for dominance. Harriet’s breathing was ragged and she was more than ready to fist fight him in her own living room. Rumple knew that their argument was escalating. He knew that if he made one wrong move, she would attack. Rumple didn’t want to fight with her. He knew once it became physical, his temper would flair and he would have her by the throat.

He didn’t want to hurt her.

With great restraint on his part, Rumple stepped out of her way. His eyes, never leaving hers. She sneered at him as she stomped past him toward the door. Aggressively, she opened it and then slammed it behind her.

He winced at the loud boom that echoed through the small apartment and ran his fingers down his face in frustration. She didn’t even give him a chance to speak! How was he supposed to defend himself? To point out how helpful the wand could be? She wouldn’t even let him have a conversation about it. She went from annoyed to raging far too quickly.

He knew it was from abstaining. The fact that she was going through withdrawal after only a day of no alcohol, caused Rumple no amount of anxiety. Just how much was she actually drinking? How was he going to support her if she turned vicious every time they disagreed? Would he have to eventually put his hands on her?

The more he pondered the angrier he became, until he practically felt his blood boil. How dare she talk to him like that? He was trying to turn over a new leaf. He was trying to be better for himself and for her. How dare she try and sabotage that? Before he could even acknowledge how irrational he was being, he jerked open the apartment door only to freeze abruptly in the doorway.

There in the foyer, Harriet was being aggressively kissed by Remus Lupin. Rumple was shocked as he watched Remus pin Harriet against the back wall. Blood pounded in his ears as he watched the werewolf wrap a hand around Harriet’s throat and continue kissing her hard enough to bruise. He was dumbfounded as he watched Harriet attempt to push him back, only for the wolf to ignore her.

What the actual hell?

Absolute rage overwhelmed Rumpelstiltskin. His breathing turned ragged, and his heart sped up. His mouth went dry as he watched the couple in the foyer; hands curling into fists.

How dare that werewolf touch her!

How dare he even be in the same room as her?

How dare he force himself on her?

Hearing buzzing in his ears, Rumpelstiltskin disappeared and reappeared behind the werewolf. Grabbing Remus by the back of his shirt, he threw him into the opposite wall, growling, “Get off her!”

He could feel his body practically vibrating with anger and aggression. Not only was he forced to watch as Harriet was manhandled by an idiot, but he found himself still incredibly pissed at her for her explosive temper.

Suddenly, he could feel his skin prickling, like a thousand needles were being jabbed simultaneously into his flesh. He had felt this sensation only once before, when he turned into the Dark One. In that moment he knew, without a doubt, that he had physically changed. He could feel his skin grow hard like it had in the Enchanted Forest. He knew wild, snakelike eyes and grayish brown hair occupied the new look. His clothes shifted and morphed. An off-hand glance confirmed to Rumple that he now wore his dragonhide suit and boots.

“You will treat her with respect dearie,” Rumpelstiltskin sneered, ending his sentence with his usual menacing giggle and twirl of his hand, “Or I might have to neuter a wolf.”

Slowly standing, Remus’ eyes were wide and fearful. He looked around for an exit, but settled on clenching his hands at his sides. Rumple was sure Remus wouldn’t know who he truly was, but he also knew that his Dark One appearance could be overwhelming. The strange eyes, the crocodile-like skin, and menacing gestures were enough to keep people anxious and off-guard.

“What are you?” Remus gasped, moving to pull out his wand. Rolling his eyes, Rumple lazily waved his hand causing Remus to stand unnaturally still.

“You know that is a really unfair advantage,” Harriet commented, moving from the wall. Her voice was a bit shaky, but as she walked toward him she seemed confident. Unafraid.

Rumpelstiltskin glared, “I could have let the mangy wolf keep assaulting you.”

Harriet didn’t say anything, she blushed a deep red and bit her lip. Finally, looking at the floor she said, “He wasn’t assaulting me. He was kissing me.”

“It looked like assault,” Rumpelstiltskin replied evenly, “He had his hand on your throat.”

“It wasn’t though,” Harriet replied tightly, still not looking at Rumpelstiltskin.

“He practically called you a whore this morning,” Again Rumple’s voice was even. He felt proud of that fact, considering how high his blood pressure was. He felt a faint pounding behind his eyes.

“He did,” Harriet agreed, crossing her arms. She looked up then and her face flushed even more in embarrassment.

Rumpelstiltskin said nothing. He was clenching and unclenching his hands. Not only was she a suicidal alcoholic, but she also liked to abuse herself with half-witted men. Half-witted men who weren’t fit to lick her boots.

He had overreacted. Assumed the worst; like he had when Belle was Lacey. Of course, Harriet wasn’t cursed. She was completely free to engage in aggressive make out sessions in her own foyer. The ferocity of Remus’s actions however, had encouraged Rumpelstiltskin to assume it had been unwanted.

Growling in frustration, Rumpelstiltskin realized he had exposed them. While it was true Remus didn’t know who he was, he would surely tell Albus Dumbledore of the strange creature Harriet seemed to have befriended. They couldn’t have that. Rumpelstiltskin shot across the room and touched the wolf’s forehead.

“Obliviate,” He hissed. Sparing a glance at Harriet, he found her looking at him rather forlornly. He wanted to go to her, yet the Darkness chose that moment to rear its ugly head.

“If she likes it rough, we could show her what true aggression is,” The Darkness hissed. Startled Rumple apparated back into Harriet’s apartment, leaving her to deal with the aftermath of their poor decisions.

Harriet had been seething when she left her apartment. She thought she had found a partner in Rumpelstiltskin, an equal. Someone that would listen to her, maybe even support her. She found her faith had been misplaced. Once again, she had been able to forget what he truly was.

She stomped out of her apartment only to be met with Remus in the foyer. He was wearing the gray cardigan and black dress pants he usually wore to work. His hair was charmingly mussed, and he had a determined expression on his face. In the back of her mind, Harriet acknowledged he looked rather nice, but she was too distracted to give him much thought. Until he called her name.

“Not now Remus,” Harriet snapped, aggressively glaring at the werewolf. She had turned to leave when Remus said, “I’m sorry about this morning.” Harriet paused and looked over her shoulder. Remus took a step in her direction and said in a low voice, “When I saw that man leave your apartment I…I was jealous.”

“Jealous?” Harriet asked, startled. Half of her still wanted to throttle Rumpelstiltskin, but the other was keen to listen to Remus. Did he miss her like she missed him?

“Yes,” Remus growled, walking toward her. Harriet felt her heart begin to pound and her breathing turned shallow. Desire started to pool at the bottom of her stomach as she watched how confidently he strode toward her.

“Why?” Harriet asked breathlessly. In the back of her mind, she knew that Remus wouldn’t act this way on his own. On some level, she knew his wolf was encouraging him. That his actions had more to do with ownership than love, but her foolish heart still hoped that he really missed her. Between her anger at Rumple and her desire to be loved she couldn’t break away from Remus’s penetrating gaze.

“He was my age, Harriet,” Remus growled, “I thought after our kiss, you would move on to someone your own age. That your attraction to me was a fluke. I was clearly wrong.”

Before Harriet could replay, Remus reached out and grabbed her hips. He brought her flush against him and Harriet could feel how much Remus wanted her. Dry mouthed, Harriet nervously placed her hands on his biceps. Before she could even acknowledge that this was a bad idea, he kissed her.

Fire shot up her spine, and liquid heat spread downward. She groaned into his mouth. There was something about Remus that called to Harriet, making her desperate for his kisses. Her hands moved up Remus arms, into his hair and she tugged lightly. In response he slammed her, rather uncomfortably, against the wall. She felt one of his hands wrap around her throat and lightly squeeze. He was far more aggressive than he had been previously. She wasn’t sure she liked it.

Harriet pushed on his chest to steady him. To let him know to slow down. Instead, Remus pushed back against her hand, pinning her to the wall. It made her feel claustrophobic. Her desire fizzled out and was replaced with hurt. Frowning, Harriet was about to push Remus off more forcefully when he was suddenly gone. Opening her eyes, she found herself face to face with an incredibly pissed off Dark One.

While she could tell that it was still Rumpelstiltskin standing before her; he looked incredibly different. His skin had taken on a grayish green tinge that sparkled gold in the light of the foyer’s windows. His eyes had dilated, making them appear reptilian with a beautiful amber cast to them. He was grimacing at them and she could tell his teeth were yellow and rotten. Yet, the gold in his skin made his lips shimmer in a way that was distracting. His hair had taken on a grayish brown tinge, kinking and wild. His suit had changed to leather with a green undershirt and boots. He was wild, dangerous, and alluring. Every bit the Dark One he proclaimed to be. At that moment, there wasn’t a bit of Lord Voldemort left inside of Rumpelstiltskin. Just pure magic.

Harriet quickly stepped between the two men and began to explain what Rumple had interrupted. The more Harriet spoke, the more his rage seemed to dim. Until finally, she could see how chagrined he was; how sad. When he left, she felt forlorn. Would he leave her now? Between her rage, her burning desire to be loved, and her poor decision-making skills she wouldn’t be surprised if he thought she was a lost case. She had been a hero and now here she was surrounded by the ashes of her life.

“Harriet?” Remus whispered as he looked at her, groggy from Rumple’s spell, “What were we saying? And why does my back hurt?”

Harriet bit her lip and could finally look at Remus with clear eyes. He really was a handsome man. There was no denying that. There was something comforting and soft about him. Yet, he never shared that part of himself with her. He always tried to dominate her, when all he had to do was hold her. If he had, she would have been his forever. Instead, she was starting to suspect that Remus only wanted her because his wolf wanted it. Not because he loved her.

There would always be a part of her that longed for passion and domination. Her entire childhood had been a trial by fire. It was unsurprising that it had left its mark. Yet she also yearned to love someone so deeply, that they were a friend as well as a lover. It occurred to her then, that in order to truly feel love, she would have to find a man that could do both.

That was not Remus Lupin.

“Nothing Remus,” Harriet sighed in agitation, “You were just apologizing for earlier.”

Remus started to say something but Harriet brushed him off and walked toward her door. “I don’t accept your apology, so maybe we shouldn’t speak for a few days.” She then slammed the door shut and firmly locked it. She leaned against the door, feeling her hands begin to shake as the adrenaline drained from her.

Would this day never end?

Tired of the shaking. Harriet turned toward her kitchen fully intending to finish the last bottle of wine, when she stopped mid stride. There in the living room, was the Dark One. Still looking as inhuman and wild as before. Harriet watched as he carefully spun straw into gold while mumbling quietly to himself.

She hadn’t expected him to stay.

Harriet cleared her throat and Rumple stopped. Blinking, he looked over and Harriet’s mouth went dry as she stared into his beautiful eyes. Finally, she croaked. “I didn’t know you could change your appearance.”

Rumple said nothing for a moment. His eyes widened and he just breathed. Finally, he replied, “Neither did I dearie.”

Both stood in silence until Rumpelstiltskin carefully stood and hesitantly made his way toward her, “I looked like this in the Enchanted Forest, after I became the Dark One.”

“But isn’t the Dark One, Lord Voldemort?” Harriet asked confused, “Shouldn’t you have changed into how you looked before you died?”

Rumpelstiltskin fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable, “It’s complicated Harriet.”

“Then explain it to me,” Harriet replied, feeling her frustration rise, “This is all so confusing.”

Rumple said nothing. He just stared at his hands and pursed his lips. Finally, when Harriet felt the urge to strangle him, he began, “All I know, is what I told you before. After you defeated me, I split somehow. Half of me became a dark entity that was bound to a magical dagger. Whoever holds the dagger controls the dark entity. The dark entity cannot survive without a host. Thus, the Dark One. There have been quite a few Dark Ones, but all succumb to the magic of the dagger. All seek someone else desperate enough to take over the burden before the Darkness can fully take them over. Most of them looked something like I do now.”

Harriet bit her lip when Rumple stopped. She asked, “But then why didn’t you get your memories back when you first became the Dark One?”

“I don’t know,” Rumple replied, frustrated, “It might have something to do with why I took the curse. I wanted to save my son from a senseless war. He was only thirteen.” Rumpelstiltskin paused, his eyes closed in pain. He swallowed and then continued, “We are now two distinct personalities warring for dominance. Even now I can hear the Darkness in my mind, whispering.”

“You haven’t accepted each other,” Harriet replied faintly, she was beginning to understand, “Could you have done something wrong when you made your horcruxes?”

Rumple looked thoughtful and hesitantly nodded, “Yes….it must have been.” Cocking his head with a faraway look he continued, “ Only one book in the library had information. It was just a foot-note, something mentioned in passing, about how using a human as a horcrux could erode the laws of magic. Although it did not elaborate.”

Both were silent. Harriet was scrubbing her shoes against the floor and Rumpelstiltskin was fidgeting with the cuffs of his suit, both deep in thought. Finally Harriet asked, while moving her hands up and down in Rumple’s general area, “So why aren’t you turning back.”

“I don’t know,” Rumple growled, shifting uncomfortably under her gaze, “I haven’t been like this since before Storybrooke.” Harriet frowned.

“Could it be tied to your emotions somehow? You didn’t get like this until you became really angry.” Harriet paused and then continued, “You're still angry,” Harriet babbled, trying to get her thoughts out, “Maybe since you know who you are now, there is less of a barrier between you and the Darkness?”

“That is not a comforting thought, Harriet,” Rumple muttered, flustered but trying to hide it, “I would rather not walk around looking like a deranged hobgoblin.”

“You don’t look like a hobgoblin, Rum,” Harriet babbled, not realizing she had given him a nickname, “In fact, you look a lot better than you did when you were still Lord Voldemort.”

Rumple stared unblinkingly at her and Harriet realized she wasn’t doing a very good job of reassuring him. Swallowing Harriet attempted to make herself clearer, “I mean you do have the same amber eyes you had from before. But at least you have a nose this time.” Rumple snorted at that, she couldn’t tell if it was in anger or laughter so she pressed forward anyway, “Plus you’re a gold color now, it’s very Gryffindor of you.”

Rumpelstiltskin rolled his eyes and chuckled softly. He knew what she was trying to say and he appreciated it. While he would never be happy with his crocodile-like appearance, he was glad it didn’t put her off. Lightly smirking, he teased, “My skin is green too dearie.”

“Yes, but more gold,” Harriet replied, moving her hand as if to shoo his words away. Her stomach had finally stopped churning and she could feel the tension leaving her body. She was beginning to feel giddy and lightheaded from relief. Maybe they would be able to move past their disagreement after all.

She took a step closer to the Dark One and gave him an evaluating look. She watched as Rumple stiffened and she realized that he was uncomfortable with his appearance. On a whim, Harriet decided to share some thoughts she normally wouldn’t have.

“To be honest,” Harriet took another step forward. Smiling reassuringly, she said, “Your skin is rather pretty.”

Now that she was closer, Harriet could tell that his skin shimmered because it was scaled, like a crocodile. Her eyes traveled to his hands and she found herself wondering if his touch would be rough or smooth? Would it be warm or cold?

“Pretty?” Rumpelstiltskin echoed in disbelief, “You think my green and gold crocodile skin is pretty?” “Sure,” Harriet replied with a shrug. She realized her thoughts were turning toward a dangerous road and put a halt to them. She stopped coming closer, “I mean, you certainly don’t look human, but that doesn’t mean your skin’s color choices aren’t nice to look at.

Rumpelstiltskin just gaped at her. Finally, he closed his mouth and croaked, “Your daft.”

“So, everyone tells me,” Harriet replied, reaching out slowly and taking Rumple’s hand. As she moved her thumb over its back, she could feel how smooth his hand was, how warm. Strangely, it put her in mind of silk. She squeezed it, “But I don’t listen to the haters.”

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled and this time the tension finally left his body. Instantly, he felt the prickling sensation again, but this time, it was accompanied by a slight shift inside of him. He looked at his hands. They were human once again.

“Well,” Rumple said, his accent back, “That’s a new development.”

Harriet was still holding his hand and rubbing it with her thumb. They stood there, both feeling calmer than they had in hours. It was a heady feeling. Finally, Harriet let his hand go and stood awkwardly before him.

“Look, I’m sorry for before,” Harriet began but Rumple cut her off, “No, I’m sorry. I should have listened to you.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled,” Harriet began but Rumple cut her off again, “I shouldn’t have been stupid. I’m used to doing things my own way. It’s odd to have to follow someone else’s lead.”

“I’m sorry for making out with Remus in the foyer,” Harriet muttered, and Rumple stilled. Some of the tension back. Clearing his throat he said, “That is none of my business dearie. What you prefer to do, with the wolf, is between the two of you. I should not have interfered.”

Both were quiet, awkwardly looking anywhere else but the other until Rumple sighed in resignation. Looking at her as she stared at the wall, listlessly scrubbing her foot, he said, “How are we going to work together if neither one of us knows how to follow?”

“We learn,” Harriet offered. Nervously, Harriet took down her bun and slipped the tie onto her wrist. Her hair flowed messy and wild down her back. From where Rumple stood, he could smell the scent of her shampoo and found himself touched. Harriet’s actions were simple, and yet intimate. Simple things that a person would do in the company of someone they were comfortable with.

How was she comfortable with him?

“I’m your villain,” Rumple said, clearly uncomfortable with the subject, “You’re the hero of our story. How is this going to work?”

“Life isn’t a fairytale, Rumple,” Harriet said looking at him, her face unreadable, “We aren’t a story someone is writing. We are real people with real feelings and a complicated relationship. We can change.” Harriet smiled then and continued, “You clearly have.”

Rumple looked ashamed, “Not as much as you think.”

“More than you realize,” Harriet insisted. Looking at the clock, Harriet huffed and abruptly changed the subject. She knew they would only go in circles and she was tired, sweet soaked, and hungry, “We have an hour before supper. What do you want to do until then?”

Rumple was quiet for a moment. He wanted to continue this conversation, but he could tell Harriet was tired. It wouldn’t be right to continue. They had both apologized for their behavior. While he wasn’t going to allow her to abuse him. Given their history, he didn’t feel comfortable pressing the issue.

Scratching the back of his neck, Rumple looked at the shopping bag on the end table. “I have a cell phone to turn on.” Reaching out he picked up the bag and looked at its contents. “I need to see if anyone has tried to get a hold of me.” Looking up, he found Harriet’s eyes had softened. She was looking at him with such compassion and kindness, that once again he felt his heart clench, “I can use a phone here?”

“Of course,” Harriet said, smiling, “I spend most of my time in the muggle world,” Her smile dimmed and she looked at the floor and frowned, “Hermione made me get one. In case I needed her.”

The past tense didn’t escape Rumple. He could read between the lines. Harriet really didn’t have anyone. Despite her relationship with the werewolf, she only had Kreacher for support. He found his heart going out to her. He wanted to be able to support her. To be her friend.

Would she want that too?

Did she have enough room in her heart for a Beast? He was her villain. The sole reason she was an orphan. What person could forgive that?

Looking at the heartbroken woman in front of him, he felt himself yearning for acceptance. Something he had once convinced himself he didn’t need.

Chapter Text

While Rumpelstiltskin activated his phone, Harriet decided to take another shower. She needed space to understand what happened between them. Absently grabbing a nightdress, she made her way to the bathroom and locked the door. Leaning against the sink, she glanced at the mirror and found herself starting into sad, ashamed eyes.

She had lost her temper, again. The urge to drink was strong. Yet, with Rumple around, she had thought she wouldn’t notice the withdrawal as much. To a certain extent, she had been right. He did distract her…. until he didn’t. People not listening to her was a trigger. She just hadn’t realized how much of one until she was in Rumpelstiltskin’s face.

Closing her eyes, tears slipped down her cheeks. She hadn’t asked for any of this. Being the Chosen One at a young age had taken everything from her. It had placed a child in an adult’s world, making her a target. It hadn’t mattered to Voldemort that she was just a child; she was a threat. Albus saw her as a weapon and a means to an end. Umbridge had looked at her like a parasite trying to undermine the Ministry and Severus had seen the ghost of her father, too traumatized by his life to see how traumatized she was by her own.

Over time, she learned to thrive in dysfunction. The Dursleys, Umbridge, Dumbledore, Severus, and Voldemort all took pieces of her and left nothing but pain, fear, dysfunction, depression and anger in their wake. By the time she had become an auror with the Ministry, she was already a shell of her former self.

Looking at her shaking right hand, Harriet could still make out the faint lines “I must not tell lies”. Even with Severus trying to heal her scars, they had not gone away. Only time seemed to be able to fade them. Of all the abuse she suffered, Umbridge’s blood quill had been the worst. Try as she might, she never could understand Umbridge’s motivations. While Voldemort was her worst enemy, it was Dolores Umbridge that had left the worst mark.

Harriet traced her scar and then physically shook herself. She was too early in her sobriety for her thoughts to dwell on Umbridge. Inevitably, she always drank the worst when she thought about her fifth year. Instead, her thoughts wandered to the Dark One in the living room.

Her entire argument with Rumpelstiltskin had surprised her. Given who he was, both in the past and present, she was surprised he hadn’t fought her. Instead, despite the moment of tension in the living room, he had allowed her to rage and then leave. She was grateful for that. She hated to be cornered. If he hadn’t moved, she would have hit him.

Despite everything Rumple had done to her, Harriet didn’t hate him. When she had first realized that Lord Voldemort was back, she panicked. However, between her exhaustion, drinking, and their odd mental connection, she could only stew in her own feelings.

When she met him on the rooftop in New York, she had only briefly been afraid, and it had confused her. Despite how imposing and dark he had seemed; he had shown her kindness. A kindness that hadn’t been shown to her in a long time. She had felt comfortable with him.

After her panic attack in the kitchenette, she no longer doubted he had changed. Lord Voldemort had been incapable of true feeling. Faking those emotions would have been impossible for him. Rumpelstiltskin, on the other hand, overflowed with feeling. The dichotomy was fascinating, and her curiosity overpowered any lingering feelings of panic or fear that might have been lurking. Now, loneliness was replacing good sense.

That was the only explanation for her unexpected attraction.

Objectively, she should not find Dark One Rumpelstiltskin the least bit alluring. He barely looked human. Yet, the confidence he had was unbelievably attractive. The way his body moved, like a predator, intrigued her. He had a way of holding the eye, even when he was nervous. She found herself wondering if the rest of his body was just as warm, soft, and scaled as his hands.

She also found human Rumpelstiltskin attractive. He was just as confident as the dark version of himself, but there was a quietness to his human form that Harriet found comforting. He had a strong presence that soothed her. All day, she had found herself thinking how nice he looked with his sleeves rolled up. How smooth his voice was as he told her stories. His hair had looked soft and she couldn’t get enough of watching his hands.

She had some weird fascination with his hands in either form.

Shaking her head, she splashed water on her face and muttered, “Get it together woman. You are lonely and horny and Lord Voldemort is not the appropriate person to have fantasies about.”

Sometimes, she worried that all of her trauma had caused her to have issues bonding. That she could only feel comfortable with people that had hurt her in some way. Severus had terrorized her all through school and yet, she found him comforting now despite her constant frustration with him. Remus constantly hurt her feelings and self-esteem and yet she yearned for his touch. Now Rumpelstiltskin, the very monster that had set her on the path of ruination, invoked intense feelings of safety and lust. After only a day of knowing him.

Was she really that broken?

Clearing her throat, Harriet brushed away her tears. She mourned the lack of normality in her life. For once she wished she could have something normal, something good that wasn’t tainted by her past.

Rumpelstiltskin was sitting on the couch, gaping at his phone. More people had called him over the past two months than they had in the past two years. Every voicemail and text message left him confused and dumbfounded.

Most of them only wanted to know who to pay their rent to. Apparently, from what he could piece together, Dove and Belle didn’t seem to be getting along. Which he found strange considering how much Belle wanted to help people.

A few messages were from Dove asking where he was and if he was alright. Dove had always been faithful. It had never mattered if it were in Storybrooke or the Enchanted Forest, the man had always been ready to aid him in his quests. Even the Dark Curse had not changed that.

Of course, looking back, Dove had never been a fan of Belle. He had always seemed uncomfortable around her. Rumple had supposed that had more to do with Dove’s dislike of people than anything else. However, he had been openly hostile in Storybrooke and Rumple had taken to keeping them separated

Saving Dove's message for later, he listened to more voicemails. Granny was persistent in her phone calls, insisting she had the money for rent.

“I’m not giving it to your flake of a wife, Gold,” Granny had said in her usual gruff manner, “So you better tell me what you want me to do with it.”

Confused, Rumple saved hers too.

What really surprised him was the constant calls and text messages from Dr. Hopper and Ruby. Many of them were short, asking if he was okay or to please call them. One message from Ruby really struck him.

“Look Gold. I know you can take or leave most of us in this town. But you saved us once. So, on the off chance you give a fuck, please call me back.

Another from Dr. Hopper made his chest tighten.

“I know you must be having a hard time adjusting to your personal loss, but feel free to call me any time. Just because you're banished, doesn’t mean you don’t have a friend.”

Clearing his throat, Rumple threw his phone onto the couch and closed his eyes. He couldn’t even articulate what Dr. Hopper’s voicemail meant to him. Of all the people in Storybrooke, he respected Archie Hopper the most. He was the only person Rumple knew that was brave enough to truly own their mistakes.

“Is everything alright?” Harriet asked. Rumple looked up and his brain stuttered to a stop. She had just stepped out of the bathroom, freshly washed and still damp, in a red nightdress that clung to her. It outlined her entire body, clinging to her hips and breasts in a way that did not leave much to the imagination.

“Uhm…. Harriet,” Rumple said hoarsely. Harriet frowned and Rumple was unable to appropriately say what he needed to. Instead, he pointed at her and gestured up and down. At a loss, Harriet looked down and blushed a deep red.

“Let me grab a robe,” Harriet muttered as she fled into her room. Rumple was still staring after her when she came back into the living room, wearing a black fluffy robe trimmed in a dark blue celestial pattern.

“Sorry about that,” Harriet said, trying to appear nonchalant instead of mortified. When Rumple still looked startled, Harriet rolled her eyes and said, “For Merlin’s sake Rum, you are over three hundred years old and married. You’ve seen a half-naked woman before!”

Rumple cleared his throat and said, “It just caught me off guard.”

“Clearly,” Harriet said, crossing her arms.

“I was just looking through my phone,” Rumple offered, “And I seem to have quite a number of voice messages.”

“Is that…. good?” Harriet tentatively asked. Thankful for the subject change.

“Odd,” Rumple replied, gruffly, “I’m rather confused why it took banishment for some of them to speak to me.”

Harriet placed her hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. She knew what it was like to be lonely and have those around you ignore it. Rumple looked at her hand and then her face. She smiled encouragingly at him, and he smiled tentatively back.

For some reason, Harriet felt the urge to hold Rumpelstiltskin. She knew it was stupid. While he was no longer evil, he wasn’t good either. Yet, she knew what it was to want comfort and never receive it. Swallowing nervously, Harriet watched Rumple fiddle with his phone and found herself asking “What can I do?”

“I can’t believe this,” Rumple hissed, ignoring her. “Hook messaged me at least ten times just to gloat about “finally getting his revenge.” Rumple threw down his phone in disgust, “He is the most juvenile pirate I have ever seen!”

“Who is he?” Harriet asked, but Rumple ignored her once again. His curiosity overcame his disgust, and he picked up the phone.

Harriet felt her throat go dry and a pressure began to build in her head. She felt like someone was squeezing her brain. Rumple’s constant mood swings were becoming draining, and she contemplated the bottle of wine in the fridge. She knew her head would feel better if she drank. It always did when she began to feel like this.

“I’m thirsty,” Harriet said standing up, “Do you want something to drink?”

However, Harriet was interrupted by Kreacher announcing supper was ready. Grateful to be able to focus on something other than her cravings, she looked at Rumple. He was hyper focused on reading his messages and listening to voicemails.

“Why don’t you bring his food into the living room Kreacher,” Harriet suggested as she gathered her plate and soda, willing her hands to stop shaking. She stared longingly at the fridge but made herself look away, reminding herself that she was serious about getting better this time.

“Please eat sir,” Kreacher said as she shoved a plate of food into Rumple’s face. Hurriedly, he placed his phone to the side and grabbed the food before Kreacher could throw it at him. Picking up his fork, he slowly began eating. He wasn’t hungry. He never really was. Yet, without food, his body would weaken eventually.

All magic comes with a price.

“You can sit next to me, Harriet,” Rumple said, wondering how she could possibly be comfortable sitting cross-legged in front of his spinning wheel. Harriet just smiled at him and began to eat.

In truth, she felt she needed physical distance from Rumpelstiltskin. The entire day had been a rollercoaster of emotions. Not to mention pesky hormones. She needed some objectivity, and that seemed to come best if there was space between them. Conjuring a seat would only bring attention to her need for space so she opted for the floor.

“Anything from your wife or grandson?” Harriet asked, desperate to change the subject.

Rumpelstiltskin chewed and swallowed as he held the plate with one hand and picked up his phone with the other. Looking through his messages, his mouth suddenly went dry. He felt the apartment walls close in around him and he shakily placed his plate on the end table before he dropped it.

“What?” Harriet asked, sitting her fork down and placing her own plate on the spinning wheel seat. She was alarmed by Rumple’s sudden ashen appearance.

“Belle texted me,” Rumple replied hollowly, his throat began to feel clogged, and he could feel his eyes burning from tears that threatened to fall.

“Well, that’s good right?” Harriet asked, rising to her knees. Shifting a little closer to Rumpelstiltskin. He shook his head.

“Belle wants a divorce,” Rumple whispered, voice ragged.

“Oh,” Harriet said quietly. She watched as Rumple’s shoulders began shaking. He tried to smother his sobs, but they came out as soft whimpers instead. He closed his eyes, trying to stop the tears but was unsuccessful. She stood up then and gently took a seat next to him. Tentatively, she reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder. Rumple began to sob harder. She then pulled him toward her, placing her forehead against the side of his head, hoping that her presence would calm him. They sat like that for a while. Rumple clutching his phone, staring at Belle’s words while Harriet made soothing sounds in his ear

Kreacher came into the living room to investigate the noise, afraid it was his Mistress. Instead, he found himself inexplicably touched by the Dark One’s display. It was startling to the little elf to see him cry. He remembered an emotionless and imposing presence. Now he was confronted with a flesh and blood man.

“Here sir,” Kreacher said quietly as he handed Rumpelstiltskin a handkerchief. Rumple looked at the elf and gently took it from him.

“Thank you, Kreacher,” Rumple whispered, hoarsely.

“You are welcome, sir,” Kreacher replied quietly and then took their plates. He knew it was futile to expect them to eat now.

“Strange little elf,” Rumple muttered quietly, but somewhat fondly.

“He is,” Harriet whispered, “I couldn’t possibly do without him.”

They were both quiet for a moment when Rumple sniffed and muttered, “I can’t believe this is how it ends.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Harriet asked quietly as she pulled away from him. She felt her body tingle where they touched, “It might help.”

Rumple thought of all the things he had done during his short marriage and felt himself grow physically ill. There was a very real possibility that if he told Harriet everything, she would realize that he was still the awful Dark Lord she remembered. He didn’t want her to look at him like she used to, in fear and disgust.

“Not really,” Rumple said, slumping forward. Harriet nodded and leaned back on the couch. Just watching him continue to go through his messages. Suddenly, Rumple sat up straight and looked a bit panicked.

“What?” Harriet asked urgently. Rumple looked at her with scared eyes and said, “My grandson is calling me.”

“Well, answer it,” Harriet insisted, and Rumple pursed his lips and shook his head. He just watched as the phone vibrated in his hand. Finally, it stopped, and Rumple sighed in relief.

“Seriously?” Harriet asked in disbelief.

“What?” Rumple snapped. He refused to look at her.

“What if it was an emergency?” Harriet was becoming mildly irritated. How could this man make her want to hold him one minute and smack him upside the head the next?

“What can I do from here?” Rumple was becoming embarrassed by his obvious attempt to avoid his own grandson. He glanced over at Harriet and saw her cheeks were becoming a charming shade of red as she began to get upset with him. .

“Maybe give him some advice?” Harriet suggested her voice going high in frustration.

“You're irritated,” Rumple observed, puzzled, “Why? It’s my grandson.”

“Yes Rum, I am,” Harriet snapped, “I know what it’s like to need an adult’s advice and never get it.”

Rumple frowned, confused. She was the Chosen One and yet she implied that she was ignored. Didn’t Albus help her? Clearing his throat, he was about to ask for clarification when his phone once again rang, and he froze.

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Harriet muttered rolling her eyes. She snatched the phone from him and answered it. “Henry?”

“Who is this?” A voice on the other end asked. He sounded young. Harriet wasn’t sure how old he was, “Mr. Gold?”

“Not at the moment,” Harriet said. Rumple had a panicked look in his eyes and he was opening and closing his mouth like a fish. She rolled her eyes again.

“Is he there?” Henry asked urgently, “Can he come get me? Nobody’s saying anything. Everybody’s ignoring me and I don’t want to be here!” She heard a sob on the other end and then, “They just say he’s banished, but he’s the Dark One. Nobody banishes the Dark One.”

“Slow down,” Harriet said quickly, “Please let me explain.” She paused as she heard crying on the other end. Sighing deeply, she said, “It’s going to be okay Henry. Your grandfather is safe, but he IS banished. He can’t come get you.”

Henry cried harder on the other end of the phone and Harriet became very concerned. Gently she asked, “Are you safe? Is someone hurting you?”

At that moment, Rumple realized he was being selfish. He knew it would be hard to speak with Henry, but his grandson needed him. He couldn’t ignore him. Henry might not ever reach out again. Holding out his hand for the phone, Harriet nodded and handed it to him.

Quietly, Rumple asked, “Henry lad, are you alright?”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone and then Rumple was shocked when Henry began to cry even harder, “Grandpapa, where are you? I need you!”

“Henry lad,” Rumple said in his most soothing voice, “Whatever is wrong?”

He watched as Harriet smiled and moved away to give them some privacy.

“Both of my moms are ignoring me,” Henry said. Rumple could hear him wiping his eyes and sniffling, “Whenever I ask about you, they say it’s for the best that you were banished. Belle won’t even say anything about you other than, “he loved power over us Henry,” Henry mimicked her in a high falsetto that almost made Rumple snicker, “Hook gloats and talks bad about you all the time and I don’t like it.” Henry hiccupped and then heartbrokenly said, “Nobody seems to remember my dad.”

Rumple closed his eyes and swallowed his tears. He had to be strong for Henry. Clearing his throat, Rumple decided he should tell the lad what was in his heart. Henry was Bae’s son. He was still just a boy and he needed someone. He was only twelve.

He looked at Harriet and her words echoed in his ears, “I know what it’s like to need an adult’s advice and never get it.”

Was that another reason for her anger? For her loneliness? Because she had no guidance? Rumple didn’t want that for Henry. He wanted his grandson to have a safe harbor, someone to turn to no matter what. It didn’t seem anyone in Storybrooke could currently provide that.

So, Rumple decided for once, to do the brave thing. Belle had always assured him that if he did, bravery would follow. He never really believed her, but now, he hoped he was wrong. “Lad,” Rumple said, rubbing his forehead with his other hand, “I don’t love power more than you.”

“You don’t?” Henry asked sniffing, “Belle said the gauntlet shows a person’s greatest love.”

“It shows a person their greatest weakness,” Rumple corrected, “Most of the time it is a person’s greatest love. But I’m the Dark One lad. The dagger controls me. It will always be my greatest weakness. You, Bae, and Belle have always been my strength.”

Harriet was sitting in the kitchen, trying to give him space, when something dark gripped her heart. A jealous longing. Despite everything he had ever done, Lord Voldemort had people to love, a family. She had no one. Swallowing, Harriet contemplated her fridge. She felt her hands curl into claws and her breathing quickened. She was across her small kitchenette in a second and opened the fridge. Only to find it empty of wine.

She glanced over at Kreacher as he sat quietly in his room, knitting. They looked at each other and finally he said, “Kreacher cleaned the fridge, Mistress.”

Harriet felt frustration and anger hit her like a brick, but she took a deep breath and nodded in Kreacher’s direction, “Thank you Kreacher. You did well.”

The house elf smiled grimly and went back to his knitting. Harriet moved to the sink and began drinking glass after glass of water. Trying to slack her thirst. Hoping the act of drinking would help her cravings.

Meanwhile, Rumple noticed Harriet’s agitation but ignored it. Preferring to deal with Henry first.

“That’s what I thought, but nobody would listen!” Henry raged, “Nobody ever listens! I want to be with you! You always listen to me!”

Rumple sighed deeply and said, “I would love nothing more lad, but I’m not in America right now.”

“What?” Henry asked quietly and Rumple grimaced. How was he going to explain?

“Henry, it's too complicated right now to explain properly,” Rumple said urgently, “Just know that you are safer in Storybrooke.”

“Please don’t keep things from me.” Henry whispered.

“I’m not trying to, lad,” Rumple said quietly, “I can’t…. I don’t…” Rumple was at a loss for words. He looked at Harriet then, hoping she could help, but saw she was distracted.

Taking a deep breath, Rumple decided to keep telling the truth, “Henry, I don’t know enough about what is going on to fully explain it. Just know that I’m safe and with a friend.”

Rumple stopped, unsure how to continue. Henry beat him to it.

“The woman that answered?” Henry asked, “She sounded really nice.”

“She is really nice,” Rumple replied, making Harriet stop and look at him. Her fourth glass of water in her hand, “With everything going on, she really needs me now.”

Henry paused and then, “I understand Grandpapa. I trust you.”

Rumple closed his eyes. Henry’s trust meant the world to him. He never wanted to lose it.

“I have to go Grandpapa,” Henry said urgently, “Someone’s coming.”

Then the line went dead.

Rumple looked at the phone as he swallowed back tears. His heart felt full. Henry cared for him! Enough to even start calling him Grandpapa. In that moment he vowed he would never let Henry down like he had Bae. Looking at Harriet he said, “Thank you for answering the phone.”

“You’re welcome,” Harriet replied, slugging back another glass of water. She went to refill it again, when Rumple asked, “What are you doing, dearie?”

Harriet bit her lip and then looked over her shoulder at Rumple. She knew he was puzzled, but she couldn’t help the thirst that was clawing at her throat.

“Trying to get rid of this thirst,” Harriet despondently replied. She refilled the glass for a fifth time.

“I have a feeling, you aren’t speaking about water,” Rumpelstiltskin said carefully.

“No,” Harriet replied, clipped and dark. She wasn’t looking at him, “I’m not.”

Rumpelstiltskin just stood there, watching as Harriet sipped her water. He wanted to reach out and hold her, but the tension in her shoulders made him think that wasn’t a good idea. He remembered the times when Milah couldn’t afford to drink. She had been filled with tension and rage, with hatred. She would be at her most abusive, screaming that if he had died, she could have had a better husband.

He didn’t want to recreate that with Harriet. He didn’t want that kind of poison coming between their partnership. Nor did he want to leave her alone. He had with Milah, thinking that was what she needed. He realized too late it wasn’t.

“How can I help you, Harriet?” Rumple asked softly. She looked at him again, fire and rage in her eyes, and they stood still for a moment. Suddenly, Harriet’s shoulders slumped, and she looked away from him. She just wanted to be comforted and yet she didn’t want to be held. Remembering Rumple said he was a Storyteller, she bit her lip and asked self-consciously, “Tell me a story?”

Rumple smiled, grateful for a task, and took her hand. Harriet felt a spark travel up her arm at the contact. She followed Rumple into the living room and let him guide her to the couch. She watched as he sat on the seat of his spinning wheel. Leaning forward he asked, “What kind?”

Harriet was still very upset and knew a funny or amusing story would only agitate her. A story about love or family would hurt her. That left pain and anger. She wanted to wallow in her hurt.

“Tell me a story about hate,” Harriet demanded darkly. Rumple sucked in a breath. Only one story sprung to mind, and he found himself reluctant to tell it. It would not show him at his best. He wondered why she suddenly found herself in such a dark mood. She had seemed fine before he had taken the phone from her.

However, he decided to be brave. He had promised to never lie to her. To tell her things that were uncomfortable to hear. It was only fair for her to know what kind of beast she had let into her home.

“I have the perfect story,” Rumple replied thickly. He swallowed, thinking of how Milah had looked at Killian as she lay dying.

“Once upon a time, there were two very different men.” Rumple began, “Both happened to love the same woman.”

Storybrooke

Henry threw his phone on his nightstand and dove for the bed. He didn’t want to speak to anybody, but he knew Regina wouldn’t listen to what he wanted. After losing him for a year, Henry thought she would be different. Yet everything was the same. She still told him how he should feel. She still made him feel crazy.

When he met Emma for the first time. He was excited. He would finally have a mom that loved him. He hadn’t understood what the dark curse had done to Regina. In getting her revenge, it had created a hole inside her. A hole that nothing, not even love, could fill. Once the dark curse was broken, Regina was free to feel again. He realized then that he wanted both of his moms in his life. When Neal showed up, he thought he had a partner for his new mission.

Then everything with Pan happened and his whole life changed forever. His moms took his memories and refused to give them back until long after his father was dead. They controlled who he could see. They did everything they could to keep him from his Grandpapa, until Regina needed him to spy on Rumple. To find the “author” that didn’t even exist.

He had gone along with it. Believing them when they told him his Grandpapa would hurt him. Even Snow and David had sided with Emma and Regina. They insisted that Rumpelstiltskin was dangerous.

Then Henry spent time with him. The dark wizard never belittled Henry. He never made him feel crazy. He spoke to him like he was smart enough to understand. The more they spent time together, the more Henry looked forward to it. The more he felt safe.

Still, he never actually called him Grandpapa before. He had wanted to, but Rumple had never corrected Henry when he called him Mr. Gold. It had hurt, but he also knew that Rumple was still grieving. That everything was probably too overwhelming. Rumpelstiltskin was a skittish person and Henry knew he couldn’t rush their relationship. It would take time.

Then, Rumpelstiltskin was gone. Leaving him alone with two inattentive mothers, distracted grandparents that were too young to be grandparents, and Killian Jones dogging his every step. He hated it.

Hook was being way too forceful in trying to get Henry to like him. Emma was being too over the top trying to convince everyone that she loved Hook, and Regina was running around town playing house with the newly returned Robin. While he didn’t actually hold anything against Robin, he was still frustrated by the lack of attention from Regina. All she seemed to do lately was nag at him.

“Henry,” Regina said, coming into his room, “Come out with us.”

“No thanks,” Henry said, looking away from his mom to stare at the head of his bed. He was lying on his stomach, clutching his pillow like a lifeline. Hoping she didn’t notice how red his eyes and nose were from crying.

“Henry,” Regina began seemingly out of patience, but then he heard Robin’s soft voice say, “Regina, just let him be. He needs time to process all the changes.”

“I don’t need time for anything,” Henry declared, both appreciative of Robin and irritated by him. Robin was a good man and a very good father, but Henry was leery about letting him close. Would he be another person in his life trying to poison him against his Grandpapa? Would he be another Hook? “I just don’t want to go.”

Regina just sighed, “You can be as stubborn as Rumpelstiltskin.”

“Well maybe if you didn’t keep him banished, he would be here to deal with me instead of you!” Henry snarled as he sat up. She always threw Rumpelstiltskin in his face when he did something she didn’t like.

“Henry,” Regina snapped, “He tried to kill Killian.”

Henry snapped back, “He was trying to cut his ties from the dagger! How could you blame him after what your crazy sister did!”

“Henry!” Regina said shocked, “Zelena is dead now thanks to Rumpelstiltskin.”

“Good riddance,” Henry snarled, his eyes narrowed, and his voice turned ugly.

Regina just stared at her son, truly realizing for the first time that Henry really was the grandson of the Dark One. That Henry favored him in a lot of ways.

“We will discuss this later,” Regina said, her tone final. She turned toward the door but then looked back at Henry and said, “I love you.”

Henry just glared at her as she left.

Robin watched as Regina left and said, low, “I’ll talk to her.”

“Whatever,” Henry replied, unable to accept the thief’s help. He closed his eyes and flopped on his back, starting at the ceiling. Once again, he felt his whole world was spinning out of control. Ever since his grandmother had given him the Once Upon a Time book, he had never truly felt settled.

He needed a plan. He knew that he needed his Grandpapa. While he would prefer to go visit him, Rumpelstiltskin insisted it wasn’t an option. Hearing the pain in his voice, he knew it was true. It made Henry want him back all the more.

Picking up his phone, Henry put it in his pocket and decided to go for a walk. There was the beginning of a plan forming, he just needed to work out the details. He knew the dagger, the gauntlet, and the Ice Queen’s scroll were all important. He just didn’t know how.

He needed Operation Gold to be flawless.

London

“So that’s who Hook is,” Harriet said, leaning back against the couch. She had been surprised when Rumpelstiltskin had started recounting a story from his own life. She hadn’t meant for him to. In fact, it might have been better if he hadn’t.

Not only was Rumpelstiltskin a murder, but he had killed his own wife. Ripped her heart out and coldly crushed it. He had watched the light die in her eyes and cut off Hook’s hand to get what he wanted.

A bean. A way to find his son.

She supposed that was the point of the story. Rumpelstiltskin refused to let his hate for Captain Hook go and it cost him his family. Killian had refused to let his hate for Rumpelstiltskin go and it twisted him.

“However, how was your banishment his revenge?” Harriet asked. Rumple turned away from her then and began to spin. He didn’t want her to know. Every piece of information he gave her was another stab to his heart. He regretted everything he had done and having to confess it to Harriet was literally painful. He felt his heart clench in the center of his chest, and he suddenly felt lightheaded. However, it passed as quickly as it came, leaving Rumpelstiltskin confused.

“What is he doing now?” Harriet continued, noticing Rumple’s discomfort but still pushing forward. She needed him to open up. Rumpelstiltskin made a disgusted noise and said, “He is dating my grandson’s mother.”

“Isn’t he your son’s step-father?” Harriet asked, startled. Rumple just nodded.

“Well…. that’s…...complicated,” Harriet replied delicately.

“You don’t say,” Rumple replied sarcastically. Looking over at Harriet, he sighed in defeat. He needed to tell her the truth. It was only fair. Taking a deep breath he confessed, “I tried to kill him. That’s why I got banished two months ago.”

Harriet didn’t say anything to that. There wasn’t much to say. Rumpelstiltskin had a rage problem, just like she had a drinking problem. She hurt herself, while Rumple hurt others.

Nobody was good in Rumple’s story. They were all flawed and broken people filled with hate. It was exactly the kind of story she had asked for.

It didn’t make her feel any better. If possible, it made her feel worse.

“Why did you kill her?” Harriet asked quietly. Rumpelstiltskin had clearly loved his first wife. When he had spoken of her, she could hear the pain in his voice. A pain only lost love could bring.

Rumple stopped spinning. He looked at her then and said brokenly, “I was angry. When she told me she never loved me, something in me broke.” Rumple turned back to his spinning wheel, “I haven’t been the same since.”

The silence was thick between them. Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes, feeling a headache coming on as Harriet quietly excused herself and fled to her room. It bothered him that they were ending the day like this. They had a pleasant morning. She had been the perfect companion and he had done his best to be charming. From her smiles and laughter, he had succeeded. However, between their argument, his outburst in the foyer, and the ugly truth he had just confessed to, he was sure she was disgusted by him.

He wondered if he should leave. He was clearly overstaying his welcome. However, they still had to figure out how to separate their minds or they would forever be plagued by the other. Besides, Harriet was still obviously having issues with her drinking, and Rumple didn’t want to leave her alone.

Still, it seemed odd to him that he was apparently just living with Harriet now. It was only a matter of time before someone stumbled onto their secret and he could only obliviate so many people. He figured Albus Dumbledore would be impossible.

Although, he had no idea of where he could go. There was still much they hadn’t spoken of. The fact that the Ministry now had a Dark Arts Division made Rumple nervous. It didn’t help that Belle wanted a divorce, which could potentially leave him destitute. They had no prenuptial agreement. She could push for everything.

He would give it to her. Belle was his sweetheart and he had hurt her.

“I need you to be less of a doormat,” Harriet suddenly announced, a bit of an edge still in her voice.

Looking up, he found Harriet leaning against her bedroom doorway, arms crossed. She had taken off her robe but this time her nightdress didn’t cling to her. There was lotion on her face that gave her a healthy glow and her hands continued to shake as she brushed hair from her face.

Absently, Rumple wondered why she always wore long sleeves.

“Isn’t it early for bed?” Rumple asked nervously, clearing his voice. Panic seized his chest, very different from the pain before, and his fingers fluttered against the gold thread he was spinning. He felt nervous with her staring at him in nothing but a nightdress. It didn’t help that she looked pretty in the lamp light. Or that he still vividly remembered the way the same nightdress had clung to her, hinting at secrets Rumple could only imagine.

“You’ve been spinning for three hours,” Harriet said, leaning her head on the doorway. She looked tired and unsatisfied. She was staring at him with that unreadable expression Rumple was starting to dislike, “You started muttering loudly to yourself about a divorce and giving your wife everything,” Harriet continued, “You’re being a wimp.”

“She deserves everything,” Rumple said defensively, “I’m a terrible husband.”

“It’s not like Belle is the best wife,” The Darkness hissed.

“Maybe,” Harriet conceded, “You haven’t told me everything that happened.” She was quiet, hoping Rumple would continue to fill her in. He had been rather forthcoming about what had happened with his first wife, but silent about the second. It made her wonder why. She already knew he was banished for trying to kill Hook. What more could it be?

When he didn’t say anything, she continued, “Yet, from the way you talk, I don’t think you abused her.”

“Of course not!” Rumple snapped, standing up and clenching his fists, “Is that what you think?”

“No,” Harriet said, defiantly and without hesitation, “I think you truly love her. I think something more happened then you’re telling me. I have pieced some of it together. You tried to kill Hook, somehow a gauntlet was involved, and your wife seemed to have clearly thought you preferred power over her.”

Rumple crossed his arms and looked away. She was becoming increasingly good at figuring him out. Something that nobody else seemed able to do. Not even his wife.

“Look,” Harriet said, when Rumple refused to engage with her, “We are going to need some money not attached to Gringotts, Rumpelstiltskin. So, you are going to have to keep some of your damn fortune.”

“How do you know I have a fortune,” Rumple muttered again, sulking.

“Armani isn’t cheap,” Harriet said evenly, “And I’m not stupid.”

Rumple snorted, “No, you certainly aren't. You seem to have me figured out.”

“Like calls to like,” Harriet muttered, still watching him from the doorway. When he was sad and vulnerable, it was so easy to forget he murdered her parents and ruined her life. Clearing her throat she continued, “The Dark Lord will mark her as his equal.”

Rumple looked at her then and sarcastically replied, “If I remember correctly, it also said; and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.”

“And we did,” Harriet said with a sad smile, causing Rumple to stiffen “Because make no mistake, Rumple. You killed me for sure. Being your horcrux was the only thing that saved me.”

Rumple deflated, “And yet, we still seem to just be surviving. I can’t do good for doing wrong and you…...well….” Rumple trailed off. Not wanting to say what he knew to be true.

“I’m an alcoholic,” Harriet replied, evenly, “All I do is drink. I’ve gone to five rehabs in five years, and nothing seems to help.” Harriet paused and licked her lips. Confessing this was hard, but it felt good to finally put her struggles into words, “I can be good for days and weeks. I can sometimes even quit for a few months but something inevitably sets me off and there I go again,” Harriet sighed, exhausted, “Drinking myself stupid.”

Rumple wanted nothing more than to help her. He felt his hand twitch with the need to reach out to her but held himself back. She was so guarded and stiff. He wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch her.

“I just don’t know how to stop,” Harriet cried, tears suddenly falling. She put her hands to her face to hide them. Without thinking, Rumplestilskin crossed the distance between them and wrapped her tightly in his arms. Harriet laid her head on his chest and sniffed, desperately trying to hold back her pain.

“I’ll help you,” Rumpelstiltskin said. Placing his cheek on top of her head, trying to give her the support she gave him earlier. He breathed in her scent and closed his eyes. She smelled of pomegranates and honey.

“You don’t drink,” Harriet sniffed again. She took in his scent, cedarwood and coffee, and allowed it to calm her.

“No, but I do make horrifically bad decisions that change the course of my life,” Rumple replied with a self-deprecating smile. Pulling back slightly to look at Harriet he continued, “Not to mention the lives of others. I need someone to help me break those habits just as you need someone to help you stop drinking.”

“I like that idea,” Harriet said with a soft smile.

Rumple smiled back, wishing for her to never leave his arms. Her warmth surrounded him, filling him with a peace he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Everything was still, nothing seemed to move or breathe. He found himself glancing at her lips in contemplation. He wondered what she would taste like.

Startled by his own thoughts, he swallowed and took a step away from her, plastering on a smile. He had no idea where his desire for her was coming from. He had felt his regard for her building all day, his need to protect her was absolute. She deserved protection after everything he had done to her. But this? This was unexpected.

Rumple watched her as she stepped back into her bedroom, rubbing her nose on the back of her hand. She didn’t seem to notice his conflicted feelings, which comforted Rumplestilskin. She could never know the direction of his thoughts.

Goodnight, Rum,” Harriet said, with what he thought was a wistful smile. She shut the door and he closed his eyes while he listened to her get ready for bed. It was comforting to know she was just on the other side of the door. That he was close in case she needed him.

“Goodnight, Beauty,” Rumple whispered, opening his eyes and placing his hand on the door. The name came across his lips unbidden, just as Baelfire’s name had. It felt right to say out loud. She was the kindest person he had ever met and he could only imagine how bright her heart would shine in his hands.

Smiling wistfully, Rumple went back to his spinning wheel. He vowed then that he would do anything it took to help her. She was everything that was good and kind in the world. She needed his help and attention, not his desire. She deserved someone to stand by her, and if it had to be him, then so be it.

Storybrooke

Henry wandered into the diner, looking to drown his sorrows in hot chocolate. While he had finally decided on a solid plan, he was unsure who to ask for help. According to the Once Upon a Time book, Dr. Hopper would be an excellent choice. However, he was afraid he would tell his moms. While Archie could be trusted in most situations, if he felt Henry could hurt himself, he had no trouble telling on him.

Looking around, Henry decided to sit in the far corner, away from the other patrons. He didn’t feel much like chatting and he usually found the space by the bathrooms empty. He looked through the menu idly, even though he knew it by heart. He was about to go find Ruby, so he could order, when he became aware of a heated conversation happening behind him. Carefully looking over his shoulder, his eyes landed on Archie and Ruby. Shifting quietly, he leaned closer and found he had the perfect spot to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“I don’t know Archie,” Ruby hissed, “He isn’t calling us back. I don’t know what we are going to do if we can’t get a hold of him.”

“Micheal said Belle is being stubborn about the dagger,” Archie whispered back clearly angry. Henry was surprised. Dr. Hopper almost never allowed himself to become upset, not since their adventure in the mines.

“Why?” Ruby asked in disbelief, “She’s fucking around with the town drunk! Why does she care who has the dagger?”

“I know,” Archie said, rubbing the back of his neck in annoyance, “But it doesn’t mean she doesn’t love Mr. Gold.”

“That makes it more shitty,” Ruby replied, obviously frustrated. Looking around her eyes suddenly landed on Henry and he quickly dunked his head. However, he knew he had been caught when he heard Ruby’s heels clicking together. Looking up, Henry found her scowling at him, “What can I help you with, Heny?”

“I was hoping for some hot chocolate,” Henryreplied quietly, and then taking a chance he whispered, “I just wanted something to cheer me up. I miss Grandpapa.”

Ruby cocked her head and looked at Archie. Archie stared at Henry for a moment and then nodded at Ruby. Looking back at Henry she said, “David? I know he is busy lately, but if you go to the Sheriff’s office he will see you.”

“Not Grandpa,” Henry corrected, curious to see how this conversation would go, “Grandpapa.”

Ruby grabbed him by the shoulder, a bit harder than she intended, and whispered, “Have you spoken to him?”

“Yes,” Henry said, whispering back. He was a little surprised by Ruby’s intensity but refused to show it. He knew he had the upper hand in this conversation, and if he had learned anything from Rumplestilskin, it was to keep the upper hand.

Archie came over and slipped into the vacant chair beside Henry. Ruby muttered to him, “He’s spoken to Gold.”

“How is he?” Archie asked. Henry could see how tense he was. The psychiatrist was trying to remain calm and mild mannered, the man most everyone knew, but Henry could tell there was an edginess to him that was typically masked with nervousness.

“He…..,” Henry bit his lip and thought of what to say. Rumple had seemed upset but Henry didn’t want anyone to know that. Knowledge was power after all, “ He said he was with a friend and that he wasn’t in America anymore.”

“Where is he, Henry?” Archie asked urgently.

“Why do you want to know?” Henry asked gruffly, frowning, “I’m not going to let you hurt my Grandpapa.”

“Why would you think that, Henry?” Archie asked, dismayed and taken aback. He thought Henry trusted him.

“Because I heard you say someone was trying to get the dagger from Belle,” Henry replied, crossing his arms and leaning away from the adults, “I’m not stupid. Only people that want to control Grandpapa want it.”

“Which is why we are trying to get it from Belle,” Ruby said, almost pleading, “She isn’t keeping it safe Henry. She carries it everywhere.”

“What?” Henry hissed, clearly angry, “Anyone could take it.”

“Yes,” Ruby said, sourly.

Henry sighed, suddenly very tired. More forces were against them than he originally prepared for. He felt overwhelmed. Looking between the adults he made a decision and prayed it was the right one. Whispering, he said, “I came up with a plan. I’m calling it Operation Gold.”

Archie and Ruby looked at each other and then Henry. Both were leery about Henry participating in their coup. However, it was becoming obvious they didn’t have much of a choice. It also didn’t help that Henry was surprisingly good at planning for someone so young. They could do worse than joining forces with Henry Mills.

“Oh?” Archie asked, eyeing Henry curiously.

“I need a thief,” Henry said, staring Archie in the eyes, “A good one. One that actually wants to help my Grandpapa.”

Archie sighed, he knew what Henry was getting at and he didn’t like it.

“I haven’t done anything like that in a long time,”Archie replied, looking away from Ruby and Henry.

“You?,” Ruby hissed in disbelief, “You used to be a thief?”

“More of a con man,” Archie corrected with a sad, twisted smile.

“But do you remember how?” Henry asked quietly, suddenly realizing he was asking a lot of Archie.

“Perfectly,” Archie replied, his voice hard, “It’s not something you forget how to do.”

“Will you do it?” Henry asked, but then Regina and Robin came in with Roland

Ruby immediately took Henry’s order to the back. Archie just smiled at Henry and said, “I think I may have what you're looking for, Henry. Let me find it.”

Henry nodded and watched as Archie left, leaving him with an annoyed Regina.

“I thought you didn’t want to come?” Regina asked impatiently.

Henry just grimaced and followed her to a booth, “I changed my mind.”

Regina beamed at him then. Henry just dunked his head and began to drink the hot chocolate that Ruby sat in front of him. Looking down, he noticed Ruby had left a napkin with writing on it. Thinking fast, Henry acted like he was wiping his mouth with it, and then balled it up and slipped it into his pocket. Nobody at the table seemed to notice.

Later that night, Henry went to the bathroom and pulled the napkin from his pocket. Smoothing it out, he read the words, “Tuesday, noon.” With an address underneath it. Once he memorized the address, he balled the napkin and flushed it down the toilet. To keep his cover, Henry relieved himself and washed his hands. He walked out of the bathroom and wished his mom and Robin a good night before climbing the stairs to his room. Confident nothing could be traced back to Ruby or Archie.

As he laid in bed, he began to feel excited. In two days, he would finally have people to help him bring his Grandpapa home. He wouldn’t be alone in his quest. He just hoped Ruby and Archie were wanting Rumpelstiltskin back for the right reasons. If not, and they succeeded, he would just have to make sure Rumple knew they would double cross him.

He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Chapter Text

Harriet woke suddenly, trying to remember the strange dream she had. She knew it involved Rumple, but she could not recall anything else about it. Sitting up, she yawned and then stopped. She could hear Kreacher and Rumple’s voice coming from the kitchen, one amused the other annoyed. She could smell bacon and eggs and hear the sizzling of the pan. Stretching Harriet stood and pulled on her robe and slippers, feeling well rested for the first time in ages

Walking into the living room, Harriet could immediately tell her living room was different, despite how groggy she was. Rumple’s spinning wheel was no longer in the middle of the room but in the corner closest to her bedroom. Her couch had been moved from the wall closest to her room to the far wall. Her two end tables were resized to better fit neatly at either end of the couch. She now had a small coffee table in the living room, a red throw blanket over her couch, and a plant in the space between her room and the bathroom. She was surprised at the changes in her living space but chose not to complain. They made the space feel more lived in and homey. Something the room had sorely lacked.

Surveying the room, Harriet noticed that Rumple didn’t have many personal items. His phone was neatly placed on the coffee table and his suit jacket hung by her purse next to the front door. With his ability to conjure whatever he needed; Rumple didn’t keep many personal items in her apartment. His precarious position in England contributed to his lack of permanency.

There was a small part of her that knew she should feel more disturbed by how comfortable the dark wizard was in her home. The part of herself that was a Gryffindor knew she should be angry by her whole situation. Yet, she wasn’t. Instead looking around, she felt an overwhelming sense of relief.

She wasn’t alone.

“Good morning, dearie” Rumple called, turning and pointing a spatula at her, “I’m making breakfast.”

“What time is it?” Harriet asked, feeling her mouth dry at Rumpelstiltskin’s altered appearance. Instead of his usual suit, he wore a white cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbow. The top two buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned revealing a long silver chain with his wedding ring hanging from it. Swallowing, she sat down and tried to ignore how his appearance made her feel. The tight blue jeans and the casual hiking boots weren’t helping her to focus either. Despite how attractive he looked; it was a bit jarring to see him dressed down. Even in her nightmares Rumple had still worn a suit. A torn and damaged suit, but a suit, nonetheless. Shaking her head to focus, she looked at the kitchenette clock and gasped.

It was almost 9 o’clock in the morning!

“I slept that long?” Harriet asked, looking at Rumple in surprise.

“I tried to make my mind as quiet as possible,” Rumple offered with a smile, “I’m glad my efforts paid off.” He frowned when he noticed Kreacher was pouring Harriet a cup of coffee, “I have tried to make peace with Kreacher by cooking everyone breakfast. Kreacher doesn’t seem to care for it.”

Harriet chuckled and whispered a thank you to the house elf, “The kitchenette is Kreacher’s domain, Rum.”

“Apparently,” Rumple replied as he placed a generous portion of bacon and eggs on a plate. He handed it to Kreacher to sit on the table for Harriet, “I offered for him to eat with us and he acted like it was a death sentence.”

“Kreacher is very traditional,” Harriet replied with a smile at her house elf, “No matter how much I ask, he always eats in his room.”

“Tis what is appropriate, Mistress,” Kreacher replied, accepting his own food.

“I know Kreacher,” Harriet said as Rumple sat across from her, “But I still want you to feel like family.”

“Yes Mistress,” Kreacher replied bowing respectfully, without spilling a bit of food. He then literally disappeared into his room.

Harriet shook her head with a small smile and picked up her fork, “There is no changing him.”

Rumple watched Harriet dive into her breakfast. Neither had really eaten yesterday and he knew she must be starved. Looking at his meal, Rumple took his time, content to watch Harriet. Last night while spinning, he decided to take a more proactive approach to assist in her recovery. They needed some time to breathe. Both were overwhelmed, neither really knew the other, and they were bone weary and sick. While Rumple was quickly gaining weight and recovering his strength, he knew Harriet would need some extra time. Neither could be successful while they were both out of sorts.

“Neither could live while the other survives,” He thought to himself. He was beginning to wonder if they had misinterpreted the prophecy. They were so deeply entwined with each other that they literally could not live while the other was only surviving. For them to thrive, they would have to work together.

Harriet finished with her eggs and started to eat her bacon. Looking up, she found Rumpelstiltskin watching her, smiling fondly. Realizing he had been discovered, he went back to his food.

What was he thinking of, when he looked at her like that?

There was enough evidence to suppose that he felt some fondness for her. That the growing companionable feelings she felt for him were being reciprocated. Despite how overwhelming yesterday had been, they had ended on good terms. She felt very comfortable with him.

That bothered her.

If it was just Rumpelstiltskin, a charming, slightly older man with a sketchy past befriending her, Harriet wouldn’t be so bothered. He was respectful of her, he could cook, he was attractive, and made her feel safe. However, he was also the most feared wizard of the past century. A dark entity that was bound to a magical dagger as a means of control. A monster that had killed his own wife.

And yet she felt safe with that part of him too.

The irony was not lost on Harriet.

“What do you have planned today?” Harriet asked as she finished her breakfast and wiped her mouth with a satisfied sigh. She was truly full for the first time in forever.

“We are going on a little daytrip,” Rumple replied, clearing off the table and taking their dishes to the sink. He was just starting the dish water when Kreacher bolted from his room and all but hurled Rumpelstiltskin from the kitchenette so he could clean up.

“Oh?” Harriet asked as she stood and followed Rumple into the living room, “Where might that be?’

Rumple smiled winningly and announced, “The Forbidden Forest.”

Harriet’s eyes widened, and she put her hands on her hips, “Come again?”

She hadn’t been in the Forbidden Forest since she was seventeen years old. It held many traumatic memories for her. She had been attacked there by a possessed Quirrell, the acromantula, the dementors, and Grawp. She had even died there. Since graduating Hogwarts, she had refused to go back.

“The Forbidden Forest,” Rumpelstiltskin repeated. Seeing Harriet’s darkened expression, he hurriedly explained, “Not by the school or Hogsmeade. On the other side, near the North Ford Bog. There is something there I want to show you.”

Harriet narrowed her eyes and tried to remember the North Ford Bog, but her mind was going startling blank. She wasn’t as familiar with the area around Hogwarts as she should have been. By the time she had finally defeated Lord Voldemort and had earned some peace, she just wanted to graduate Hogwarts quickly and get the hell out of there.

“What do you want to show me?” Harriet asked, wrinkling her nose.

“You will just have to see,” Rumpelstiltskin replied, grinning at her. Making a motion with his hands, he said, “Now go get ready. You’ll want to dress for hiking.”

Harriet just rolled her eyes but did as Rumpelstiltskin bid. Biting her lip, she quickly decided on blue jeans, her battered hiking boots, and a blank tank top. Grabbing her wand sheath with only mildly shaking hands, she adjusted it to her arm as she looked herself over in the mirror.

“God I’m ugly,” Harriet muttered, frowning. Despite having rested, her eyes were still bruised from lack of sleep. Her skin was ashy. Her hair was limp and dry. Her lips were cracked, and she looked like she had been starving herself.

Which she had.

The scars on her wrists were still raised and red. Harriet had been too drunk to heal herself properly and Kreacher wasn’t good at healing magic. The result had been raised, red, and ropy scars. She hated them. Just one more reminder of an event she would rather forget.

Still evaluating herself, she saw that her hips were jutting out more than normal and her jeans felt too loose. She was going to have to resize them quickly. Grabbing her wand, she finished fussing with her clothes and sighed in defeat. There wasn’t much else she could do. They would be hiking, so makeup would be inappropriate.

“This trip better be worth it Rumpelstiltskin,” Harriet muttered darkly to herself as she grabbed a black and white checkered button up and pulled it on. Pulling her hair from the collar and shoving it into a ponytail, she gave herself one last look.

Despite her best efforts, she looked like a walking corpse.

With Kreacher’s help, Rumpelstiltskin was putting the final touches to their lunch hamper when he felt his phone vibrate. Expecting it to be Henry, he felt his stomach drop when he looked at his phone. It was a new message from Belle.

“Rumple, where are you?”

Wincing, he stared at her words. A thousand thoughts rampaged through his mind before he decided what to send.

“Why do you care?” Rumple texted back. Realizing too late that he sounded juvenile and silly. More like a schoolboy and less like the imposing Dark One he was supposed to be. Rolling his eyes, he stood there and waited for her to text back.

Ding! “I haven’t heard from you since you left! Didn’t you get my last message?”

Frowning Rumple furiously texted back, “Banished you mean, I didn’t leave. I was banished. By you!”

Belle didn’t text back immediately. Which left them with enough time for Kreacher to finish the hamper and for Rumple to take the red blanket from the couch. He had everything gathered, when his phone vibrated again.

“I did what I had to do. Did you get my last text?”

Rumple thought of ignoring her but knew she would keep texting until he answered. He could place his phone on silent but he was afraid Henry would need him. Blocking Belle was an option but then he would never know what she really wanted from him.

Gritting his teeth he texted, “Do you really want a divorce?”

Quickly Belle texted back, “I don’t know, I’m confused.”

Rumple frowned. What did that mean? Was she confused about him? His love for her? Her own thoughts? What did she want?

Texting back, he asked, “What are you confused about?”

“Everything.” She replied and then the texting stopped.

Realizing that Belle didn’t seem to know what she wanted, Rumple put his phone away and pushed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes. Trying to relieve a headache. He honestly didn’t know what to believe when it came to his wife. Before the first curse, she had never seemed so indecisive. She knew herself and her own mind. However, ever since Emma had broken the curse, she had seemed lost. She would never speak about her time in captivity and seemed to avoid all mention of it. It had only gotten worse after the Lacey incident.

They were supposed to be True Love, but there had always been a separation between them. Even after they had married, and Rumple had given her the dagger. He had thought it was his fault. That what Zelena had done had created a hole inside of him that could never be healed. Now, he wondered if some of it had been Belle’s own doing.

Hearing a noise, Rumple looked over his shoulder and his eyes widened. While Rumple had requested that Harriet wear something for hiking, he couldn’t have fathomed how attractive she would look. The black jeans she wore were well suited to her fragile frame and stuffed into her red hiking boots. Harriet was underweight, but the tank top she wore was tight fitting enough to show off what curves she did have to her advantage. The plaid button up she wore was far too big, but somehow Harriet pulled it off. She had buttoned it at the bottom and let it hang off one shoulder.

Harriet clearly looked tired and ill. Her skin was pasty, and her lips were chapped. Her eyes were too bright, almost feverish, and she was painfully thin. Yet somehow Rumpelstiltskin still found her attractive.

He should not be thinking of her like this. It was not appropriate. Not to mention unexpected. He was a married man and Harriet was his enemy. If he ever had a nemesis, she would have been it.

Or was that Killian?

Ignoring his tumbling thoughts, Rumpelstiltskin smiled. He supposed the slight attraction he felt for her was the vulnerability they were both experiencing. Together, they were dealing with a situation that was unprecedented in the history of magic.

Besides she was a woman, and he was a man. Of course, he was going to notice how lovely she was. End. Of. Story.

“Denial isn't just a river in Egypt,” The Darkness quipped.

“Are you ready to go?” Rumple asked, looking away from her and picking up the blanket and hamper.

“Somebody has a crush,” The Darkness singsonged, “What would your beloved Belle think?”

Again, he ignored the Darkness. Knowing that if he acknowledged it, he would only give it more power.

“Do you plan on making us wear glamours?” Harriet asked, frowning. Rumple was ushering her out of the apartment and Harriet was still at a loss for where they were going. It was making her nervous.

“Nope,” Rumpelstiltskin replied with a smile. Handing her the blanket and hamper he shut the door behind them, “As long as we avoid Albus and Severus, we should be fine.”

Harriet smiled back but found herself startled when he pulled her close. Her whole body started to tingle, and she felt her cheeks go red. She started to ask what he was doing, when she felt her stomach flip and drop at the same time. Her eyes widened.

She hated, side-along apparition.

Rumpelstiltskin was hovering over Harriet as she hurled her breakfast up in the bushes. He hadn’t meant to make her sick. Apparition was the only way to get where he wanted. It would take days on foot and neither one of them could have handled that. She was far too weak, and his leg was far too painful.

“You suck, Rumpelstiltskin,” Harriet growled, another wave of nausea hitting her, and he winced. He was trying to get her to gain weight, not lose it.

“I’m sorry dearie,” Rumple said looking around. Trying to gauge how far it was. They were standing at the very edge of the forest, right at the entrance to a long-forgotten path. The sun was high and bright in the sky and the birds chirped cheerfully.

However, there was a chill in the air, which always seemed to emanate from the Forbidden Forest. A thousand-years worth of magic coalescing in the same place was bound to leave its mark. The Enchanted Forest had been the same. He watched as Harriet stood, wiped her mouth with one of Kreacher’s handkerchiefs and strode towards him.

“Apparition is the devil,” Harriet groused.

“I had no idea it did that to you,” Rumple replied, motioning for her to follow him.

“It’s been years since I used apparition by myself, let alone with someone,” Harriet replied frowning, “I’m out of practice.”

Rumple nodded, and they lapsed into silence. A silence neither felt the need to fill. Both content to walk and view the forest. Harriet breathed in the natural musk of her surroundings and smiled. She had forgotten how much she used to enjoy the forest and hadn’t even realized she missed it until now. Absently, Harriet found herself softly humming. Rumple glanced at her from the corner of his eye and smothered the desire to hold her hand.

They had been walking for half an hour, when they came to the top of a rocky hill. There they found an old clearing where the Forbidden Forest and the North Ford Bog met. There was a small dilapidated cottage in the back of the clearing with a worn path that wound in-between the cottage and the hill they were standing on. Yellow and red wildflowers filled the clearing and Harriet could just barely see old foundations where houses used to be.

“What is this place?” Harriet asked, as they made their way toward the cottage.

“The site of a very old magical village,” Rumpelstiltskin replied. They picked their way carefully down the hill and Harriet found herself grinning as they walked side by side down the picturesque path. She felt happier now than she had in months.

“What happened to it?” Harriet asked, swinging her arms playfully. Rumple shifted the hamper and blanket in his arms and found himself reaching for Harriet’s hand. At the last second, he brushed her shoulder instead and said quietly, “Look off to the right.”

Harriet stopped and did as she was told. Standing in the clearing was a beautiful white stag, far larger than any Harriet had ever seen. It was at least seven feet tall at the shoulder, no less than one hundred and fifty feet long and couldn’t weigh less than six hundred pounds. The stag’s antlers were large and majestic, reaching at least five feet in length. It stared at them, as they stared at it.

“It’s beautiful,” Harriet whispered. The stag continued to stare, until it grew bored and bounded from the clearing.

“The fabled White Hart,” Rumpelstiltskin said, continuing their walk to the cottage, “Not many of their ilk were around when I was a young man. I’m glad to see they are still alive.”

“The Scamander family has been working tirelessly to try and keep magical animals from going extent,” Harriet replied, following Rumpelstiltskin, “Luna told me they had been working with the White Hart population, but I didn’t think they had released any into the Forbidden Forest.”

Rumple smiled at Harriet’s obvious excitement and picked up the pace toward the cottage.

“Why are we here?” Harriet asked. Up close, the cottage was even more run down. Whole sections of the walls and roof had fallen in. The steps had long since rotted away and the wildlife had tried to reclaim it. Honeysuckle vines had spread over the entirety of the structure, and there was a heaviness coming from the cottage. It felt like dread.

“I used to live here,” Rumpelstiltskin replied, frowning at how uneasy Harriet seemed. He could feel the darkness that emanated from the cottage and began to wonder if this outing had been a good idea.

Before either one of them could change their minds, Rumple had flicked his wrist and the air shimmered between them and the cottage. Frowning, Harriet took a step away from the barrier, but Rumple took Harriet’s hand and pulled her through despite her protests. On the other side, was the same cottage, but in a far better condition.

There was still some neglect. The walls and roof of the house looked weathered, and the steps were rickety. There was honeysuckle trailing off the roof, but Harriet could tell that at some point, it had been pruned back. It should have been picturesque. However, there was a darkness emanating from it like poison.

“What in the world?” Harriet asked, as Rumple took his hand from hers. She was too distracted to notice her hand tingling where they touched. Rumpelstiltskin, however, was not.

“It’s a magical habit with an atmospheric charm,” Rumpelstiltskin replied, clearing his throat and walking toward the cottage, ignoring the spiking heart rate their touch had caused. He was a bit concerned by the heaviness that emanated from the cottage. Atmospheric charms didn’t do that, “I created this when I first left Hogwarts. I had nowhere to go and no job prospects.”

Rumple opened the door, and Harriet found the cottage tidy but dusty and sparsely decorated. It was larger inside than she would have thought. The front door opened to a spacious main room. It housed a stove, a table, two chairs, a caldron, and a small reading nook. In the back, she could see a shadowed hallway that she assumed led to a bedroom and a bathroom. On the floor, she could see the outlines of a cellar door close to where the caldron stood. The whole cottage should have felt as cozy as it looked. Instead, there was a heaviness in the air that seemed to press on Harriet’s shoulders making it a bit hard to breathe.

“I never liked living in the city,” Rumple continued, placing the hamper and blanket on the table. He seemed just as affected as Harriet by the heaviness in the room but was striving to ignore it, “I was content here.” Rumple looked around and then walked toward the reading nook, “I wanted a place that was perfectly controlled. When I stumbled on this old village, I realized I could have a place to myself, that nobody would bother.”

“But why hide it?” Harriet asked. She was looking at the caldron. There were stains on the lip and sides that looked suspiciously like blood. Looking around she found more dark stains on the floor by the caldron and cellar door. Harriet’s recently settled stomach began to roll. She was starting to understand why this place felt haunted.

“I was paranoid,” Rumple replied, grimacing, “I had created two horcruxes by then but I had nowhere to hide them.” He looked through the books, “Plus I needed a place to hide the books I used in my more, darker studies.”

“Darker studies?” Harriet echoed; eyebrows raised.

Rumpelstiltskin nodded and pulled a book from the shelf.

“This one should do,” Rumpelstiltskin said, bringing it to the table. He sat down and began leafing through the pages.

“Uhm, Rumple,” Harriet said, still looking at the caldron, “I’m not sure I want to be in here.”

“It does feel oppressive here, doesn't it?” Rumpelstiltskin said, looking around the cottage. His shoulders slumped and he was frowning.

“Yes.” Harriet agreed, “Besides, I’m fairly sure you tortured small animals in here.”

“You wouldn’t be wrong,” Rumpelstiltskin offhandedly replied, still surveying the cottage, “Could you please grab the other two books that look like this one? I’m going to look in the backroom briefly and then we can go.” Harriet grimaced.

“I’m not sure I want to,” Harriet muttered, but she began to look through the books anyway. Some of the titles were lost to time. However, for those that did have names, they made her even more uneasy.

“Blood Magic and the Soul,” Harriet read, scrunching her nose up, “Magick Moste Evile, The Munich Manual of Demonic Magic, Sex Magic and the Phases of the Moon, Sex Magic and the Use of Blood, ” Harriet muttered to herself, “What the fuck was he into?

Finally, she saw two identical books and grabbed them, placing them beside their mate. Uncomfortable with being alone in the cottage, she followed Rumple into the back room. She found him sitting on the dust encrusted bed looking vacantly at a picture.

“Rumple?” Harriet questioned, stepping into the bedroom. He looked at her then, his eyes a deep amber and a jolt went through her body. Slowly, she felt the back of her mind prickle and her head began hurting. Knowing something was wrong she asked, “What is it?”

“I found my mother’s picture,” Rumple replied, his voice a hiss. There was a vacantness in his eyes that she didn’t like, a hardness to them that worried her. She was well aware that Voldemort was now the Darkness, and she refused to lose Rumpelstiltskin to it. His darkness would not snuff out his light.

She sat down beside him and leaned into his shoulder. Looking at the picture Harriet smiled sadly. Merope Riddle was not a pretty woman. Years of abuse had aged her beyond her years. It was no wonder people had been surprised when she had run off with Tom Riddle Sr. Still, a part of Harriet wished it had been a love match for Merope. For her to have had some happiness in life.

“You don’t look like her,” Harriet said. She trailed her fingertips down his arm, hoping to bring Rumple back to himself. Rumple looked at her then and his eyes burned. Swallowing, she said, “Rum?”

“I take after my father in looks,” Rumple replied, his voice still a hiss, but his eyes less vacant.

“Do you want to take this with us?” Harriet asked, still stroking his arm, “It might be good for Henry to see his great-grandmother.”

Rumple didn’t say anything, he just stared at his mother’s picture. Finally, he looked up and asked, “Do you think Henry would like to see her?”

“I do,” Harriet replied with a soft smile. She found herself making swirl patterns on his wrist with her finger tip. She felt Rumple shutter slightly and her heartbeat quicken.

The amber in his eyes deepened for a moment. She could see the vacancy in his eyes fade. He licked his lips and took her hand in his, stopping her. Their eyes locked and Rumple asked, “What are you doing?”

“Your eyes Rum,” Harriet said, “The Darkness was close to the surface. I was trying to keep you calm.”

“This woman has no idea what she does to us,” The Darkness hissed and Rumple was forced to agree. Her simple touch had caused desire to blossom inside him and she had no idea. He was sure she would be mortified if she did.

“I am calm,” Rumple replied, his eyes fading back to brown. He watched as she smiled, holding his hand, “I was just upset for a moment. My mother is a touchy subject.”

“I can understand that,” Harriet replied quietly. Rumple winced and looked away. The desire he felt quickly died and a hollowness took its place.

What had he been thinking?

He killed her parents! He was married! He had been old when she was born, what in the world was he doing lusting after her? He had no right.

“She is ours,” The Darkness hissed, “We have every right!”

Rumple ignored the Darkness again, but began to feel worried. The Darkness inside of him was becoming possessive of her. Something it had never done with Belle or Cora. Was it because she was his horcrux? Or was it something more? Something deeper?

“Neither can live while the other survives,” The Darkness hissed.

“We should go,” Rumple said, taking Harriet’s hand and guiding her out of his old room.

“What are these books?” Harriet asked, pointing toward the table, smiling as she felt Rumple’s thumb absently rub the back of her hand.

“My journals,” Rumpelstiltskin replied. Realizing he still had her hand in his, he let go. Placing his mother’s picture on top of them he continued, “I detailed how I created the horcruxes. Maybe if we look through them, we can find out where I went wrong.”

Harriet nodded, “But not in here. This place gives me the creeps. It’s time to go.”

Rumple chuckled despite the oppression in the air, “Of course. This isn’t the place I wanted to show you anyway.” He waved his hand and the picture and books shrank. Placing them in his pocket he grabbed the hamper and blanket.

“No?” Harriet asked sarcastically as they left the cottage, “I’m relieved. I was beginning to think your idea of showing a girl a good time was magic sex books and disturbing potion equipment.

Rumpelstiltskin blushed as they walked through the shimmer that surrounded the cottage.

“You saw those,” Rumpelstiltskin muttered.

“Yep,” Harriet replied, popping the p.

“I never used them,” Rumpelstiltskin insisted. Why did he want her to know that?

“None of my business,” Harriet replied, smothering a smile. Looking at him from the corner of her eye, she found his discomfort hysterical.

“Maybe not,” Rumple conceded, yet he still felt the urge to explain, “I used them for research. Even the most wildly off topic books can have a kernel of information. However, once I realized they would be of no help, I dismissed them.”

“And yet, they were still in your cottage,” Harriet replied, trying to bring some levity to their situation.

“They were old,” Rumple replied defensively, “It seemed wrong to throw them out.”

“Sure,” Harriet replied, cocking her eyebrow, “Pervert.”

Rumpelstiltskin snorted at that and pursed his lips. The further they walked from the cottage, the less oppressive the air was. Both were thankful for that.

They backtracked toward the hill, and Rumple guided Harriet onto a mostly destroyed path. It led off to the right, toward a large tree. Cocking her head, Harriet saw the most beautiful birds fluttering. They were in deep blues and pinks with long feathers and plumes. The birds were dipping and whirling in flight. Harriet laughed, a truly joyful sound, and said, “They are so beautiful.”

“They are jobberknolls,” Rumpelstiltskin said as he spread the blanket and motioned for Harriet to sit down. Thankful they could finally change the subject from the cottage, “A truly interesting creature. They don’t make a sound until their deaths. When they do die, they scream every word they have ever heard backwards.”

“That’s awful,” Harriet said quietly as Rumple handed her a sandwich and a cup of cold pumpkin juice. He was relieved to see that her shaking was better.

“It’s unpleasant,” Rumpelstiltskin agreed.

Silence descended as they ate and watched the jobberknolls. Rumple was glad Harriet was enjoying herself, but he felt despondent. Picking at his sandwich, Rumple tried to hide his distress. Over the past few days, Rumple had noticed how Harriet tried to hide her pain, using sarcasm and humor as a shield. She seemed uncomfortable with letting others share her pain. He had hoped that by sharing this place with her, it would show Harriet that she could trust him. That she could share that painful piece of herself with him.

Unfortunately, all he seemed to do was cause her more discomfort. As Tom Riddle, he had underestimated how magic affected the wider world. Never once would he have thought his actions in the cottage would have caused a darkness to fester. Of course, Tom Riddle had never cared about the repercussions of his actions. Nor had he contemplated what immortality would actually be like. He had wanted the renown and power that immortality gave him. Never once did he think of the price of that magic.

“Are you sorry I brought you here?” Rumpelstiltskin asked once Harriet was finished with her meal. He threw what was left of his sandwich into the clearing and watched as Harriet laid on the blanket. Her naked shoulder caught his attention and he ideally wondered what kissing it would be like. She smelled of pomegranates and honey, would she taste like them too? Horrified with himself, Rumple tore his eyes away from her and watched the jobberknolls.

“Well,” Harriet began, looking at Rumpelstiltskin. She could tell he was feeling vulnerable by the way he was leaning away from her with his hair in his face, like a shield. She could tell something was bothering him, but she was unsure what.

“No, not really,” Harriet replied thoughtfully, “The jobberknolls and the white hart were definitely the highlights of the trip. Not to mention how beautiful this part of the Forbidden Forest is.”

Rumple looked at her then and she smiled at him. Prompting him to tentatively smile back.

“Why do you ask?” Harriet asked, cocking her head to the side questioningly.

“You seemed disturbed by my workshop,” Rumpelstiltskin replied uneasily, fiddling with the blanket. His fingers fluttered as if he were spinning. He knew that his past was disgusting. That no matter how he was beginning to feel, Harriet would never return those feelings. The most he could ever hope for from her was kindness.

Besides, he didn’t want her to return those feelings. It wouldn’t be right. He was using her as a way to distract himself from the drastic changes in his life. Over the past year and a half he had died, been resurrected at the expense of his son, imprisoned and used as a plaything, married, controlled, banished, suicidal, and soon to be divorced. He needed a distraction and Harriet was perfect for that role. Her beauty and kindness were easy to get swept up in.

“You know,” The Darkness hissed, “You’re only lying to yourself.”

“Well, that’s because I was disturbed by your workshop,” Harriet replied with a grim smile, “That was where you made horcruxes, Rumple. Where you stored them. Where you tortured animals. Why in the world would I be comfortable there?”

Rumpelstiltskin opened and closed his mouth several times, looking for the right words. He felt silly and awkward, like when he had courted Milah. What was it about this woman that reduced him to a staring, simpering, idiot? Finally, he said, “I didn’t think of it like that.”

“No?” Harriet asked, prompting him to continue.

“No,” Rumpelstiltskin confirmed, “While we do need my journals to figure out what has happened to us. I originally conceived of this outing as a way to get to know each other.”

Harriet said nothing, only nodded for Rumpelstiltskin to continue, “I thought it might be easier on our partnership if we knew something about each other. I can’t show you Storybrooke or the Enchanted Forest, but I can bring you here. To the next best place.” He moved his hand around to encompass the Forbidden Forest.

“You liked it here,” Harriet replied, with a bit of wonder to her voice.

“Very much,” Rumpelstiltskin agreed, “It was a breath of fresh air when compared to the city. I didn’t feel claustrophobic out here. At night, I sometimes came to the clearing to watch the stars. Wondering if we were really alone in the universe.” Swallowing, Rumple continued, “I would often watch the jobberknolls, wondering how they seemed so happy with so little.”

Harriet said nothing, just content to listen to him.

“I tried to understand the world around me here,” Rumpelstiltskin continued, “In-between gathering those repulsive books and working on understanding horcruxes. I truly tried. But I failed. I could never understand the beauty.”

“And now?” Harriet asked quietly. She was lying on her stomach in front of him, her open hand propping up her chin, her legs crossed. She was staring intently at Rumpelstiltskin, her stomach in knots. How many times had she done the same thing? Lying in her backyard, staring at the universe, trying to make sense of her life.

“Now, I know what I missed,” Rumpelstiltskin replied with a sad smile, “However, I also remember the destruction I wrought trying to understand. The pain I inflicted.”

Looking sadly at the jobberknoll den he said, “I have heard the death call of the jobberknoll far too many times. For many people, the bird’s death moves the murderer to remorse, but I felt nothing.” Rumpelstiltskin paused, regret heavily lacing his voice, “Their deaths haunt me.”

He felt a tight twist in his heart then. It was a slight, stabbing pain. It lasted for only a breath, but it was enough for Harriet to notice something was wrong.

“You, okay?” Harriet asked, Rumple was rubbing his sternum. Looking troubled he said, “I’m fine. Just heart trouble.”

“You have a bad heart?” Harriet asked, surprised. Wasn’t he immortal?

“I’m fine,” Rumpelstiltskin said, smiling at Harriet’s concern, “Hazard of being the Dark One.” He tried to hide his growing concern, but he was sure that she could tell how worried he was becoming. Last night, he had felt that same stabbing pain and now it was back. What could it mean?

“Well,” Harriet began. She knew he was trying to change the subject, but she also knew that Rumple’s confession had been hard, “Just let me know if it gets worse.”

“I will,” Rumple agreed, smiling as Harriet kicked her feet back and forth, laying her head on her arms, she closed her eyes. Almost immediately, Harriet’s feet stilled and she was asleep. Despite the sharp pain that had dissipated as quickly as it struck, Rumpelstiltskin felt peaceful. Lying on his back, he watched the flight of the jobberknolls, allowing his mind to wonder so they might both find rest.

Harriet jerked awake and found that night had descended on the Forbidden Forest. Cold, Harriet hugged herself and rubbed her shoulders. Looking around, she found Rumpelstiltskin lying on the blanket. His arm was propping his head up and he was just staring at the stars.

“How long have I been out?” Harriet asked, voice thick with sleep. She licked her lips, trying to bring moisture to their already cracked exterior.

“Most of the day,” Rumpelstiltskin replied, quietly stargazing.

“You should have woken me,” Harriet scolded, “Now we have to walk back to the apparition point in the dark.”

“I can apparite from here,” Rumpelstiltskin said absently, “I didn’t before because I wanted the jobberknoll den to be a surprise.”

Harriet was quiet for a moment content to watch Rumple stare into the infinite void that was the night sky.

“Why are you so gloomy?” Harriet asked, crawling closer to him. She was cold and the need to feel his presence beside her was strong. To know if the night sky invoked similar feelings in him that it did her. To understand what their connection really was.

“I’m not gloomy,” Rumpelstiltskin replied, looking at her as she crawled toward him. Inexplicably, he found himself thinking how bewitching she looked in the moonlight. They were alone in the clearing. Not another human for hundreds of miles. No sign of civilization to be had, but the rotted and charred remains of a magical community long since lost. They were utterly alone, and Rumpelstiltskin found himself suddenly uncomfortable.

Before he had become Lord Voldemort, but soon after he created his first two horcruxes, he had been curious about sex. When he was at school, he had been attractive enough that young women were not repelled by him. Yet, he had never met a witch he liked. Nor did he desire to find one. When his male classmates were bragging about their conquests, he was busy studying.

He had briefly wondered if his attraction was more for wizards than witches, but one look into the mechanics of male lovemaking was enough for the young Tom Riddle to realize it was not to his taste either. No, looking back, Rumpelstiltskin realized he had been completely asexual.

Well, not completely. He had dabbled with a few young witches. Trying to understand what the attraction to the activity was. In the end, he had stopped trying to understand and wrote it off as a fluke in the human experience. An activity coveted because the human population needed to procreate.

Tom Riddle had not felt the need for human connection, so he never could understand love. If Harriet had been born when he had, would Tom Riddle had felt attracted to her?

He knew for a fact that Tom Riddle would not have been attracted to Belle. She was too innocent and kind. Milah would have been too provincial. He might have been intrigued with Cora, as he had with Bellatrix, but he never would have looked to her as an equal.

Harriet was his equal in every way. Would he have recognized that then? Or would he have noticed that later? Would she have been the one to help him truly feel? Or would he have corrupted her? Used and abused her for his own selfish desires?

“Does it matter?” The Darkness hissed, “She’s here now.”

Yes, she was, but he was not free to pursue her. Nor was he convinced he was truly feeling attraction to her. Between his vulnerability and their unique magical situation, Rumple highly suspected it had more to do with their connection than any feelings on his part. Mental connections could be powerful. This one already altered how Harriet slept and felt. Who was to say that it couldn’t alter how he felt about her? He could very well be attracted to her because she had been his horcrux.

“You’re an idiot,” The Darkness muttered.

Harriet laid next to him and put her arms underneath her head to better view the stars, “What are you thinking about.”

“You,” Rumpelstiltskin said truthfully, “Wondering what it would have been like had we attended Hogwarts together.”

“Why?” Harriet asked, taken aback and yet she felt her cheeks burn.

Rumpelstiltskin paused. He knew he had to be careful not to reveal any of his inappropriate thoughts. She would be mortified. Quite possibly scared, since he had taken her into the middle of nowhere with a creepy cottage and weird sex books. Without being reincarnated, he was fifty-nine years older than her. Being reincarnated, he was three-hundred and eight-three years older than her. Either way, the age difference was unseemly.

“You have a great capacity for kindness,” Rumpelstiltskin said, “I never could understand it. Maybe if I had met you sooner, before I made my first horcrux, you could have helped me understand.”

“Maybe,” Harriet replied quietly, looking at the stars. Then in a sardonic tone she said, “Or maybe, you and I would have murdered each other before we even left Hogwarts and saved the world the trouble.”

Rumple chuckled and looked at Harriet, who in turn looked at him. They stared at each other for a time, until Rumple said, “You truly are the kindest person I have ever met Beauty.”

“Beauty?” Harriet asked, searchingly, “That’s the second time you have called me that.”

“Yes,” Rumpelstiltskin replied, looking deeply into her eyes. The stars were bright and he enjoyed how the green in Harriet’s eyes sparkled in the starlight. Silently, he tried to convey what he was afraid words couldn’t express “Names have power. While Harriet Potter is a good, strong name. The name of a hero. It doesn’t encompass everything that you are.”

“And Beauty does? Harriet asked quietly, feeling herself blush.

“Yes,” Rumpelstiltskin replied quietly, “Kindness is true beauty.”

Harriet felt her throat close and a few tears slipped down her cheeks, into her ears. Yet she didn’t brush them away. Instead, she found herself reaching for Rumple’s hand.

“Would you prefer I not call you Beauty?” Rumple asked, not looking at her. Instead, he preferred to focus on her hand in his, warm in the cool night air.

“No,” Harriet replied with a suspicious sniff and a light squeeze to his hand, “No Rum, Beauty is just fine.”

“Well, I like Rum,” Rumpelstiltskin replied and Harriet just smiled as she felt Rumple’s thumb rub the back of her hand.

Later that night, when they finally made it back home, neither noticed Remus watching them. He had gone to her apartment, still upset about yesterday, when Kreacher had answered the door. He had announced that his Mistress was out with her “man-friend” and to come back tomorrow.

It was 10 o’clock at night then. Now, at 2 o’clock in the morning, he watched as they apparated into the foyer. Rumple had his arm around Harriet’s waist and they were laughing. They both disappeared into her apartment and Harriet’s “man friend” never came back out.

Remus had stayed up the rest of the night. Stewing in his own jealousy and resentment.

Chapter Text

Harriet stumbled into the living room, blurry eyed and tired. She hadn’t fallen asleep until three in the morning and was barely awake. Rubbing her eyes, she walked into the kitchenette and was startled to see it was almost noon. At a loss, she started to ask why they had let her sleep for so long when she realized the apartment was empty.

“Where is everyone?” Harriet muttered. She went to the fridge and opened the door only to be met with nothing. Huffing in frustration, she shut it and crossed her arms. That explained where Kreacher was; he was on his weekly food run.

But where was Rum?

She felt disappointment stir in her stomach. Last night had been one of the best nights of her life. The way he had held her hand and the softness in his eyes had made her feel like a princess in a fairytale. She hadn’t wanted it to end.

After they arrived home, she had quietly gone to her room, but had hesitated at the door. There was so much she had wanted to say. So much that she was feeling, but Rumple had gently wished her goodnight and excused himself to the bathroom. She had sighed then, in disappointment or relief she couldn't be sure, and had gone to bed.

Harriet looked around the room and saw a note on the coffee table. Quickly she picked it up and read,

Dear Beauty,

I wanted to make you breakfast, despite Kreacher’s protests, but we need a few things. I’ve run to the market. Kreacher has decided, in his infinite wisdom, that he will come with me; muggle market or no. Apparently, I’m not to be trusted to follow a simple grocery list.

Don’t worry dearie, I won’t let the little fool be spotted by the muggles.

Your Rum

Harriet’s face instantly brightened, and she found herself carefully re-reading the letter. Her heart zeroed in on the words Your Rum and she found herself grinning.

Was she developing a crush on Rumpelstiltskin? Was this more than just loneliness? Harriet wanted to be horrified, like a good little Gryffindor, but found that she couldn’t. Instead, she carefully folded Rumple’s letter and decided to keep it. She wanted it as proof that there were differences between the Dark One and Lord Voldemort. That she wasn’t crazy for seeing something worthwhile inside of Rumpelstiltskin.

Harriet knew that she cared for others far more than was prudent. Even when she was a teen, she had found herself pitying Lord Voldemort far more than she should have. When she had discovered what his mother’s love potion had done to him, she had truly wished for some kind of spell to help him. He had so much potential, so much power, that he could have used it to help others. He could have been the greatest wizard of his time. Instead, he had used that power to impose his will on the whole of the wizarding world. He had been selfish, hateful, and unkind.

Rumpelstiltskin was still selfish, and he could be hateful, even unkind. Yet, his yearning for power seemed to stem more from a lack of control than for the subjugation of an entire world. As the Dark One, he had almost unlimited power, and yet he hadn’t used that power in the way Harriet knew Lord Voldemort would have.

She didn’t know much about Rumple’s son. All she knew was that Rumple lost him and that he had used the power of the Dark One to find him again. Rumple hadn’t been specific, but he admitted to doing terrible things to find him. Yet, he did those terrible things for love. Rumple’s capacity for love was great and where love was, kindness was surely to follow.

Sighing, Harriet walked to the bookshelf in her room and slipped the letter into her photo album, hoping to keep the note safe. She genuinely smiled for the first time in ages and decided she would start her day with a shower. Hopefully, by the end of it, Kreacher and Rumple would be back, and they could discuss lunch. For the first time in years, Harriet was famished.

Rumpelstiltskin was distracted. Something he hated to be in public, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering. He had been so frazzled that morning he had barely argued with Kreacher when the elf refused to let him go to the grocery by himself.

“It’s my job sir,” The house-elf had replied with injured dignity.

“It’s a muggle market,” Rumple had warned but Kreacher had just crossed his arms and looked defiant.

“Fine,” Rumple had snapped, “But you better stay invisible, or the muggles will think we’ve been invaded by aliens.”

To Kreacher’s credit, he didn’t react to Rumple’s insult. Instead, the elf had followed him into the foyer and disappeared as soon as Rumple had crossed the threshold onto the street. The elf seemed experienced in navigating muggle london, which was rather impressive. Most magical creatures avoided muggles like the plague.

Gritting his teeth, Rumple tried to keep his mind on task, but was fighting a losing battle. While he had a lot that should’ve been on his mind, his past life, his marriage, his grandson, and his fear of discovery. What was actually on his mind was Harriet.

He couldn’t stop thinking of how her eyes sparkled in the moonlight. He smiled when he remembered how perfect her hand had felt in his. With her at his side, even the Darkness had felt at peace.

As he moved from aisle to aisle, he daydreamed of what could have been. He felt his face heat as he imagined how her skin would have felt underneath his hand. Of how her lips would have felt moving against his own. Of the little moans and groans she would have made as his kisses moved from her lips to her neck, down to her bare shoulder.

“Are you going to buy that?” An elderly lady asked as he stood in front of the cereal aisle, staring unseeing at a box of cornflakes. Shaking his head, and trying to hide his flush of embarrassment, he replaced the box and all but ran from the aisle.

What in Merlin’s name was wrong with him? He needed to get a grip!

Yet, he once again found himself thinking about last night. How there had been a moment right before she went into her room where he had considered kissing her. Of pinning her against the door and devouring her lips with his own. He had never felt so desperate for kisses.

Instead he had bid her a quick goodnight and fled into the bathroom. He had stayed there until he was sure she had gone to bed before he began spinning. He hadn’t trusted himself alone with her. Not with the Darkness whispering in his mind to take her, to mark her as their own, to devour every last inch of ever and make her beg for it all the while.

Clearing his throat, Rumple shifted and frowned; realizing how uncomfortable he had become. Swallowing, Rumple shook his leg and hoped nobody noticed his erection.

“Fuck her,” The Darkness hissed, “and you might feel better.”

“Shut up,” Rumple snarled, too distressed to ignore the entity.

“Why are you fighting what we want?” The Darkness hissed in frustration.

“I’m married,” Rumple growled, quieting the Darkness.

It was as if a bucket of ice had been dumped over him. All desire left his body, leaving only guilt. How could he possibly want someone else when he was still married to his Belle? His sweet, bookish, beautiful Belle. Just because she was confused about what she wanted didn’t mean he could be unfaithful. They were True Love!

He abhorred adultery and he flat out refused to participate in it; no matter how Harriet made him feel. While he had every right to be upset by the possibility of divorce, he had no right to seek comfort elsewhere. Especially not with a woman he had so grievously wronged.

For good or ill he would remain a faithful husband. The love and duty he felt toward his family was something the Darkness, and his recently recovered memories, could never take from him. He would make sure of that. No matter how much his heart yearned for Harriet.

Suddenly feeling claustrophobic, Rumple sped through the rest of his shopping, desperate to escape the grocery. Of course, this aggravated his knee. By the time he left, his limp was noticeable. Kreacher offered to take the groceries, but Rumple declined. The more he walked, the more his throbbing leg distracted him from his adulterous thoughts.

That morning, when he had stood from the spinning wheel, he had noticed how much his leg and back were throbbing from the hike. He had decided to ignore it; sure, it would go away. Now, he could feel something in his knee pinching. Rumple knew it was his old injury flaring up and it frustrated him. Despite how well he had been feeling the last few days, his limp only became worse.

He suspected it had something to do with the differences in magic. In the Enchanted Forest, magic had been easier to wield. Here, it required far more energy and concentration. You had to be exceptionally gifted in order to use magic as he did as the Dark One. While he was sure he still had control of most of his magic, healing spells were some of the hardest to master. He worried that without a wand, he would have difficulty channeling the required magic. Thinking of Mad Eye Moody, a formidable wizard with a constant limp, Rumple grimaced. He didn’t want to have to go back to using a cane.

Next time he would just let Kreacher go to the damn grocery himself.

Suddenly, his phone began buzzing causing Rumple to frown. Despite how much pain he was in, he began to walk faster; worried that it could be Henry with an emergency. Soon Grimmauld Place came into view and Rumple took the steps two at a time. Kreacher opened the door for him and then appeared in front of Harriet’s apartment.

“I can take them from you, sir,” Kreacher croaked with a dignified air. Nodding, Rumple handed the bags to the elf and opened the door for Kreacher to walk in ahead of him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Remus watch him from his own apartment. When he looked over however, Remus was gone, and the door was shut.

“Odd,” Rumple muttered as he walked into Harriet’s apartment. Feeling slightly uneasy, he locked the door. Then cast a protective ward around the entrance for good measure.

That complete, Rumple grabbed his phone to see what was wrong. Killian had texted him the same photo at least six times. Frowning, he opened the text, knowing he was probably gloating about “his revenge” and almost dropped the phone.

“What’s wrong?” Harriet asked, coming from the bathroom. She had just finished her morning shower and was heading to her bedroom to dress, when she glanced in Rumple’s direction. Rumple ignored her, preferring to stare at his phone in horror. Making sure her robe was secure, Harriet walked up to Rumple who wordlessly handed her his phone; shock written across his face. Frowning, Harriet took the phone and found herself looking at a picture.

The woman in the picture was very beautiful. She wore a long brown coat with a brown polka-dotted blouse, a pink skirt, brown tights and pink high heels. Her hair was fixed in a half up half down hairstyle and she looked happy holding hands with a scruffy looking man. The man was dressed casually, but somehow seemed to match her in his all-black ensemble. They were walking down the street, neither seeming to have a care in the world. Looking closely, Harriet could see how the woman was leaning closer to the man and the man was looking adoringly at the woman.

“Who are they?” Harriet asked, as she looked at Rumple.

Seeing his stony expression, she felt the bottom fall out of her stomach. “This isn’t your wife, is it?” “Yes,” Rumple swallowed and looked away. His hands were clenched in fists, and he sarcastically replied, “and a new friend.”

“Who sent this?” Harriet asked.

“Killian Jones,” Rumple snarled, starting to pace in front of the door, “In fact, he sent it to me six times, just so I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Well fuck,” Harriet muttered still looking at the happy couple in the picture. Wincing she looked at Rumple again. The last time his wife cheated on him, he had murdered her and maimed her lover. What had Hook been thinking? Swallowing, she said, “Maybe you should sit down, Rum.”

“I don’t want to sit down,” Rumple snarled, crossing and uncrossing his arms. He couldn’t decide what angered him more. The fact that Belle had so clearly moved on, or the guilt he felt for his attraction to Harriet.

He truly believed that his feelings for Harriet were an after effect of the horcrux. It made no sense he would be so attracted to Harriet so quickly. He was lovestruck and he couldn’t understand how that was possible. He had already found his True Love. Belle was everything that he needed. She was supposed to be his strength.

Except she wasn’t. She should have been and at one time she was. Yet for their entire marriage she had only been a source of confusion and heartache. Someone he had to protect and keep things from. Not a person he could trust with his plans or pain. Not an equal partner.

Were they even supposed to be together?

“Rumple….” Harriet began, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked at her and fought the urge to pull her close. To smell her hair and feel her skin against his. He wanted her calm and peace, but he didn’t know how to ask for it. Instead, he allowed himself to fall into the rage and anger always boiling inside of him.

Harriet sighed when she saw how vacant his eyes had become and softly said, “I’m sorry Rum.”

Rumple stopped pacing. He closed his eyes and looked down at the floor, desperate to hide his pain. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him again. Was there something wrong with him? Every woman he had ever loved left him for another man. Milah and Hook, Cora and Henry, and now Belle and Will. Was there something about him that caused women to cheat? Was he THAT bad of a lover?

While he knew Belle had been confused about what she wanted. It never occurred to him that she would be seeing another man. Not so soon after his banishment. Not his Belle.

Apparently, she was no longer his.

“What can I do?” Harriet asked. She wanted to reach out, hold him, and take his pain away. She was only beginning to realize just how much she cared for him. They had only begun to know each other, and she was already feeling intense complicated romantic feelings for him. Feelings that by all rights, shouldn’t be there. There was no explanation for it, but Harriet wasn’t sure she cared. Swallowing, she meant to say something more when she felt the phone buzz in her hand. Looking down, she saw Hook had sent another text.

“So much for True Love.”

Growling, Harriet angrily pushed the call button and brought the phone to her ear. Rumple’s eyes widened when he noticed what Harriet was doing. He began to reach out to take the phone but ultimately decided against it. Her anger was palpable.

The call was picked up on the second ring and before Hook could say one word Harriet snarled, “Let me tell you something, you dumb motherfucker, if I ever get my hands on you, I’m going to choke you until your eyes bug out of your head.”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the line and a startled “oi”, but Harriet didn’t even give him a chance to speak, “You just sent the Dark One, the man that killed your lover, a picture of his current wife with another man. Do you think that was wise, dumbass?’

“Who the hell are you?” Killian snapped.

Harriet just rolled her eyes,” None of your fucking business, Captain Stupid.” Taking a breath she snarled, “Don’t text or call this phone again. You do and I’ll turn you into a toilet seat for a week.”

She then hung up and blocked his number.

Harriet was worried that she had overstepped and was about to apologize when Rumple began cackling hysterically. He leaned forward, his hands on his knees, while his whole body shook with hysterical laughter. She watched in surprise as Rumpelstiltskin’s laughter turned ugly. His eyes narrowed, turning from brown to amber, and before Harriet could even try and calm him, he morphed into the Dark One.

Rumpelstiltskin then turned and began attacking his spinning wheel; using his claws and brute strength to destroy it. Harriet and Kreacher watched in growing alarm as pieces of wood were thrown throughout the small apartment. With each crunch and groan of the spinning wheel, Rumple’s hysterical laughter became wilder. Harriet bit her lip, ducking as various pieces of wood were thrown their way.

“Rumple,” Harriet began taking a step toward him, but Kreacher grabbed her arm and jerked her back.

“No Mistress,” Kreacher whispered, “He may hurt you.”

Running her fingers through her hair, Harriet helplessly glared at the phone in her hands and threw it on the table in frustration. She wasn’t sure what she should do, but Rumple’s increasing violence was starting to affect her. She could feel herself becoming irrationally angry and there was a strong urge to start ripping apart her apartment.

“Please make us some tea, Kreacher,” Harriet asked softly, hoping to distract the little elf so he didn’t notice how hard it was for Harriet not to sink into Rumple’s anger. Kreacher frowned, but did what Harriet asked, knowing that something was wrong with his Mistress.

Harriet felt a growing sense of compulsion push her forward and she hastily took a step toward Rumpelstiltskin. Gritting her teeth, she made herself stop, frustrated at the connection between them.

She would be the mistress of her own mind!

Taking a breath, Harriet hadn’t realized how long she had struggled against the compulsion, when Kreacher announced the tea was ready and placed two mugs onto the kitchen table. It distracted Harriet enough to ignore the compulsion.

“Thank you, Kreacher,” Harriet said. She cautiously moved toward Rumple, who had stopped destroying his spinning wheel. Instead, he was just staring at the remains around him, breathing heavily, with his fists clenched. Worriedly, Harriet placed her hand on Rumple’s shoulder to make him aware of her presence. Quickly and violently, he grabbed Harriet’s wrist in his hand, jerking her forward and slightly twisting her arm.

“I want to hurt them,” Rumple growled, voice low and unnatural. Anger coiled inside of him like a snake, ready to strike at the nearest target.

Harriet felt her stomach twist with unease and pain blossomed in her wrist. He didn’t seem to know what he was doing; his eyes were full of wraith and unfocused. For the first time in their new acquaintance, Harriet wasn't entirely comfortable with him.

Swallowing, she opened her mouth to ask Rumple to let her go, when he clenched his hand. Harriet felt her wrist snap and heard a loud crack. Pain shot up her arm and she bit her lip to keep herself from crying out.

“I want to have Belle watch as I rip her lover’s heart from his chest,” Rumpelstiltskin snarled, seemingly unfazed by Harriet’s broken wrist. His mind was jumbled. All he could feel was white-hot rage. He wanted to destroy everything around him.

Whimpering, Harriet was suddenly pulled forward, her broken wrist grinding against bone. She felt woozy and stumbled when Rumple unconsciously pulled her against him. Startled, she looked into Rumple’s face. He wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he was glaring unseeing over her shoulder. She felt his arm snake possessively around her waist, pinning her against him.

For a split second she was overwhelmed by his rage and proximity. His scent surrounded her and despite the pain and growing fear, she felt desire stir within her.

What the fuck was wrong with her?

“Rum,” Harriet whispered painfully, “You’re hurting me.”

Rumple looked at her then and their eyes locked. She almost gasped when she saw how his anger transformed him. A few moments ago, Harriet had been trying to console Rumpelstiltskin, a kind if dangerous older man. Now standing before her, was her nemesis Lord Voldemort. It wasn’t in how the Darkness changed his outer appearance. It was his anger. It changed how he carried himself and how he spoke. His eyes were cold and distant, and his body was rigid against hers. She felt his magic tingle violently against her skin and despite being of an average height, he seemed to tower over her.

They stared at each other for a moment and then Rumple let her go; backing away. Horror made his amber eyes shine with unshed tears. How could he possibly have hurt her? She had only been trying to comfort him. To rouse him from his thoughts. He hadn’t even noticed she was there.

Harriet clutched her wrist to her chest, trying to breathe through the pain and ignore how her heart was breaking. Rumple had hurt her, something that she had been sure he would never do. If she was wrong about that, what else was she wrong about? Doubet spread through her like poison, and she struggled to keep the tears at bay.

An icy silence spread throughout the apartment. Kreacher watched from the kitchen, ready to defend his Mistress if she called. Rumple was just staring at Harriet in shock, flabbergasted by his own actions. Finally, Harriet coldly said, “I would appreciate it, if you would heal this.”

Looking at her uncertainty and praying he had the power available; Rumple gently took her wrist in his hands. He stared at her for a moment. His eyes were no longer twisted in anger. Instead, they seemed to be drowning in sorrow and Harriet felt her breath hitch. Seemingly coming to a decision, Rumple bent forward and touched his lips to her wrist. He found himself whispering, “never again” against her skin and Harriet felt herself shiver as warmth spread up her arm and the pain evaporated.

Pulling away, Harriet stepped back; making sure to put some space between them. Rumple watched forlornly as she eyed him suspiciously. He had hurt her enough for a thousand lifetimes, what had he been thinking?

“I don’t know what to say,” Rumple whispered, ashamed. He didn’t even have the courage to look her in the eye.

“I’m sorry; would be a good start,” Harriet replied calmly. She was still clutching her wrist, fascinated by how thoroughly Rumpelstiltskin had healed it.

Swallowing Rumple looked up and said, "I’m deeply sorry for hurting you.”

He reached out toward her, but noticed she was leaning away from him and let his arm drop, looking crestfallen “I had no cause to harm you like that.”

Harriet pursed her lips together and narrowed her eyes, “Why did you?”

“I didn’t….” Rumple stuttered, “I don’t…. I didn’t realize I was holding you,” Rumple finally managed to say, “I just remember grabbing something and squeezing. I didn’t notice it was your wrist.” He paused for a second and said, “I rather wanted it to be Will Scarlet’s heart.”

“I gathered that,” Harriet coldly replied. Rumpelstiltskin just hung his head, his shoulders slumping forward in misery. Harriet eyed him for a second and then she allowed the tension to leave her shoulders. She shook her head and sighed in disappointment. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, that was clear. His anger and rage had consumed him, and she happened to be too close.

Reaching out she brushed her fingertips against his shoulder, prompting him to look at her. Harriet flopped her wrist in front of his face and said, “No harm done.”

“Plenty of harm was done,” Rumpelstiltskin replied dully, turning his back toward her and walking stiffly to his spinning wheel, “I made you afraid of me.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” Harriet replied with an eye roll. She took a few steps toward Rumpelstiltskin but stopped short of touching him. Was she afraid of him?

He stared at her resignedly and snapped his fingers. In a swirl of golden sparks his broken spinning wheel put itself back together. It was perfect, as if it had never been destroyed. He sat down and began working the wheel, trying to calm his turbulent thoughts. Rumple seemed so practiced at repairing his broken wheel that Harriet wondered how many times he had destroyed it in a fit of rage.

Biting her lip, Harriet frowned. Was she afraid of him? Through their connection, she felt his guilt. She heard him whisper “never again” against her skin. She knew he hadn’t meant to hurt her. Yet, he had. He had lost control and she had been in the way. She could easily be again. Was this the kind of life she wanted for herself? To always be on edge around the person she cared for most?

Still, Harriet couldn’t deny how Rumpelstiltskin made her feel. He was at once gentle but dangerous, kind but cruel. His very nature contradicted itself; it was as intriguing as it was frightening. Gritting her teeth, Harriet made a decision. One she hoped she wouldn’t regret. Haltingly, she reached out and placed her hand on his, effectively stopping him from spinning. She then leaned into his back and said into his ear, unknowingly purring, “Do I seem afraid?”

Harriet gently nuzzled her nose against his ear, trying to prove to herself that she was unafraid. There was something about Rumple’s scent, his quiet sorrow, and the softness of his scales that mesmerized Harriet. She tightened her hold on Rumple’s shoulders, feeling the warm leather under her fingers and she let out a sigh as she nuzzled his ear again.

Rumple sat rigid under her touch. He felt his entire body warm and then flush, responding to her sultry voice. He closed his eyes and soaked in her warmth, focusing on her touch. His muscles began to relax and then constrict. The prickling returned for a moment and then he was human again.

Harriet stepped back from him then, a bit startled by her actions, and impassively watched as Rumple once again refused to look at her. Finally, he turned slightly and looked at Harriet from the corner of his eye.

“Do you want me to leave?” Rumple asked, ashamed. She had calmed his anger, but her actions had only stoked his longing. He desperately wanted her and almost whimpered when she pulled away. His attraction to her only served to make him feel even more ashamed of himself.

“Where would you go?” Harriet asked dismissively, a bit hurt that Rumple hadn’t noticed how intimate her caresses were.

“The clearing…” Rumple began but Harriet scoffed, “You are NOT going anywhere near that cabin.”

Rumple said nothing, and Harriet reached out, taking his chin in her hand and making him look at her. She put all her hurt and fear to the back of her mind and stared him in the eyes.

“You’re going to stay with me,” Harriet commanded, her voice gentle but firm.

“You still want me around?” Rumple whispered, confused. He had hurt her, why wasn’t she running from him?

“Yes,” Harriet replied, her voice gentle. Why wasn’t she trying to put space between them? Rumple was still Lord Voldemort, he was dangerous, and yet…. the idea of him leaving…. was distressing to her. She knew she had feelings for him, but this devotion was beginning to become ridiculous. He hurt her!

“I won’t do that again,” Rumpelstiltskin vowed. Reaching out and brushing his fingertips against Harriet’s healed wrist.

“I know,” Harriet replied quietly. She knew that he meant that, and she wanted it to be true. Yet, he had a monstrous temper, and she would be a liar if she said she wasn’t leery of it.

Harriet pulled away from Rumple and crossed her arms.

“About Will Scarlet,” Harriet began desperate to change the subject, but Rumple cut her off. He saw the fear and doubt in her eyes, and he felt his heart break even more, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Turning his back to her, he began to spin. His emotions were still churning dangerously, and he didn’t want to hurt Harriet again. Sighing in disappointment, Harriet uncrossed her arms and stomped to her room. She needed to change and then she was going to help Kreacher with lunch. Maybe by then Rumple would be ready to have a conversation.

Or maybe she would finally learn to ignore the longing she had for him. It was not healthy, and she couldn’t possibly still want him after what he had done?

Could she?

Storybrooke

Killian Jones hadn’t felt the slightest bit guilty about taking Belle’s picture. He surely didn’t feel guilty about sending it to the Crocodile. It never once occurred to him that Gold would harm Belle. Anyone could tell the old monster thought she hung the moon. It wasn’t until the strange woman on the phone was done shrieking at him that he realized maybe he should have had better forethought. If Will and Belle ended up dead, he would be partially to blame.

“I can’t believe you sent that to him!” Belle raged, as Granny’s patrons watched the drama play out, “You could get Will killed!”

“The last time his wife slept with another man; he killed her,” Hook replied unhelpfully. He was uncomfortable with the number of eyes on him and the direction of this conversation, “You should be more concerned about yourself.”

“I am NOT sleeping with Will!” Belle thundered, her face red and splotchy. Her eyes shifted. Hook suspected that she was lying, but that wasn’t his business.

“Whatever you tell yourself,” Killian replied sarcastically. He then pointed his hook in her direction, “But you had better keep a firm hand on that dagger, Mrs. Gold. Before your Beast stabs you with it.”

Mission accomplished, Killian turned and left the dinner. He ignored the sour looks he was getting, only wanting to put as much distance between Belle and himself as he could. Lately he was nervous prowling the streets of Storybrooke alone. There was a tension in the air since the Crocodile had been banished that was puzzling. Everyday it built on itself, like a storm, and Killian was becoming more and more worried about the inevitable break. Just the other day, Dr. Hopper had verbally accosted him over a harmless bit of lechery. Not that he could blame Dr. Hopper for disliking him. He had tortured the man.

He felt a bit bad about that.

Turning toward the Sheriff’s office, he decided to see Emma. It was close to noon, and he was sure she needed to eat. The number of petty crimes and nuisances were skyrocketing, and Emma was becoming frazzled, often forgetting to eat. The police force consisted of only David and Emma, and it was becoming too much for both of them to handle alone.

Killian had thought about offering to help, but most of the townspeople disliked him. He was sure his help would be more of a hindrance. Frowning, his thoughts turned back toward the woman on the phone, and he idly wondered if he should say something to Emma.

He was pretty sure that the Crocodile was sleeping with her. Why else would he be in her company? He was sure Belle would have felt better about her own affair if she knew the Crocodile was fucking around too. However, there had been something about the woman that unnerved him. He had no doubt that she was a witch, although since she was in the Land of No Magic, he wasn’t worried about her power. He was worried, however, of her getting into Storybrooke and making good on her threat.

Still, it wouldn’t do Emma or David any good worrying about threats from the outside. Right now, it was a petty domestic squabble that had nothing to do with them. If it turned ugly, Killian would say something. Feeling better about his decision, Hook entered the Sheriff's office determined to gain Emma’s attention.

Chapter Text

London

Lunch was a quiet affair. While Harriet still wanted to talk about what happened, Rumpelstiltskin refused to even look at her. In the aftermath of his anger, he felt deeply ashamed. He had hurt her, however unwittingly, and he found himself unable to even speak to her. The shame kept him from eating and all he had the energy to do was push his food around the plate.

Finally, Harriet could take no more of his silence, “We need to talk about what happened.”

Rumple opened his mouth, only to close it. Finally, he said, “I’m uncertain what more there is to say.”

“You’re not going to kill Will Scarlet, are you?” Harriet asked worriedly.

Rumple said nothing at first. His shoulders were tense, and he refused to look at her. Harriet bit her lip, determined to keep silent until he spoke. Finally, Rumple’s shoulders slumped, and he said, “No.”

“No?” Harriet asked, somewhat puzzled. She hadn’t expected that.

“No,” Rumple confirmed. Then he looked at her with sad, ashamed eyes, “It was my first instinct, killing that bastard, but no. I won’t do that.”

“Why?” Harriet asked. She had been prepared to talk him out of his murderous rage and hadn’t thought he could calm himself on his own. Not after what happened between them.

“Because I love her too well.” Rumple replied. He placed his elbows on the table and put his head in his hands. Taking in a shaky breath Rumpelstiltskin finally acknowledged the truth, “I thought I could make her happy, but I couldn’t. I wasn't a good husband. She deserves someone else.” Rumple looked Harriet in the eye and said, “Anyone else really.”

Harriet felt the urge to hold him, but her crushed wrist was still fresh in her mind. Her heart hurt for him, but she couldn’t make herself console him. She had said she wasn’t afraid of him, and while that was true, she still felt a certain reluctance to get into his personal space.

“I’m a hard man to love, Harriet,” Rumple looked at her then, his eyes filled with misery and self-hatred, “But she kept saying we were worth it.” Rumple gritted his teeth and rubbed his hand across his face, “Why did she lie to me?”

“I’m sorry Rumpelstiltskin,” With a sigh, Harriet looked at the phone sitting by his hand, “It’s not fair that Hook sent that picture to you.”

Rumple too looked at the phone, “It’s perfectly fair.”

Harriet watched as Rumple picked up the phone and miserably stared at Belle’s picture. Frowning she asked, “Is that what you do, torture each other?”

“Unfortunately,” Rumple replied, placing the phone back down and giving Harriet his attention, “But the older I get, the less taste I have for it.”

Silence once again descended between them. Watching Harriet pick at her food, Rumple changed the subject, “You haven’t touched your breakfast.”

“No,” Harriet agreed absently.

“You should focus on your eating,” Rumple softly scolded, but he could tell Harriet was distracted. Her eyes were vacant as she shifted the food around the plate.

“Beauty?” Rumple began, but Harriet cut him off. Looking at him she asked, “Are you going to call Belle now?”

“I don’t know what I want,” Rumple said quietly. His heart was conflicted. He was heartbroken over Belle, but something pulled him toward Harriet so completely he couldn't help but wonder why Belle’s betrayal hurt at all.

“You need to,” Harriet insisted but Rumple shook his head, “I don’t want to get that angry again.” When Harriet just frowned, he continued, “I was so angry I didn’t notice I broke your wrist. If I were to get angry again, what more damage could I do?”

Harriet bit her lip and nodded. Slowly, she began eating, but everything tasted like ashes. A gulf had sprung between them that she wanted to fix. Yet, she didn’t know how without losing what little self respect she had.

Rumple watched her try to eat; his stomach twisting in knots. She was putting space between them. Their connection was becoming weak and unstable, giving him a headache and making him feel unsettled. Yesterday, they had made a huge step toward understanding each other. Yet, with a clench of his hand, he had ruined it all.

Unable to pretend to eat any longer, Rumple began to take his plate to the sink but stopped at Harriet’s chair. They were at a crossroads and if he didn’t try and bridge the gap now, they would forever be uncertain of each other.

He knew he was a coward, and he was tired of it. He was always so afraid of losing people that he either pushed them away or clung too tightly. He never tried to be truthful with them. He very rarely spoke from the heart.

It ended now.

“What is it, Rum?” Harriet asked softly, looking up at him. He was staring intently at her, and she felt her heartbeat faster in response.

“I will never harm you again,” Rumpelstiltskin said quietly, placing the plate back on the table and kneeling in front of her. He felt his knee pinch and his leg shook, but he clutched her chair arm and hid his grimace. He didn’t touch her, not even a brief brush. He wanted to make sure Harriet understood she was in control. That he would abide by her wishes. Looking intently into her eyes, he said with conviction, “I will give you my unbreakable vow.”

Harriet silently stared at Rumple. She knew kneeling was hard for him, both physically and mentally, and she could feel how uncomfortable he was through their connection. However, she could also feel how serious he was about the unbreakable vow. He truly meant what he said, he would not hurt her. Feeling her heart warm, she slowly placed her hand on his and lightly squeezed.

Smiling shyly, she quietly said, “I know Rum. I know you will try.” She bit her lip and then continued, “But I want us to be equals. An unbreakable vow will only limit that partnership. I will take you at your word or not at all.”

Rumple went to speak, but Harriet placed a finger to his lips. She barely restrained a shiver at the contact. Unable to stop herself, she leaned forward slightly. Clearing her throat, she continued, “You're my friend Rum, and while my feelings are still hurt, I say let this pass.”

“Thank you,” Rumple whispered, barely stopping himself from pulling her into his arms. In that moment, he realized how much he truly admired her. Not just as a woman, but also as a person. Her ability to care for people, despite their own wrongdoings, was a skill he wished he could master, “You’re my friend too.”

Smiling shyly, Harriet took Rumple’s hand in hers and stood, pulling him up after her. Haltingly he obeyed, wincing as his knee pinched and then pulled. He felt himself fall forward as his leg gave way, but Harriet wrapped her arms around him to hold him up. Rumple sighed, both in regret that his limp was back and in satisfaction that he was in Harriet’s arms.

“Rumple,” Harriet said with mock sternness, “You're going to have to get a cane.”

Rumple humped but nodded. He breathed in her scent and then regretfully pulled away. Looking her in the eye, he replied sheepishly, “I hate having to use my cane, Beauty.”

“Why?” Harriet asked, still holding onto his waist to steady him. She felt her face flush slightly and hoped that Rumple didn’t notice.

“It makes me feel old,” Rumple muttered, looking away from her.

“No offense Rum,” Harriet giggled, “But you kinda are.”

Rumple just glowered, and Harriet laughed. He loved her laugh. It was like the tinkling of bells; high and clear. It sounded like pure joy.

“Thank you so much for reminding me, dearie,” Rumple muttered. He moved his arm in an arc and a cane materialized in his hand; black with a golden fleur-dis-li handle. Frowning, Rumple gripped the handle and the golden pattern swirled then changed to writhing snakes.

Leaning on it, Rumple frowned, “Well, I didn’t think I would be back here.”

Harriet looked at his cane speculatively and asked, “Why does your leg hurt? Didn’t you say as the Dark One you didn’t need a cane?”

Rumple nodded and ran his hand through his hair in annoyance, "The magic I wielded in the Enchanted Forest allowed me to infuse my leg with enough magic that I could walk normally.” Grimacing Rumple said, “But it didn’t take my pain away. I still felt it. Everyday.”

“When Regina cast the Dark Curse,” Rumple continued, “I, like everyone else, was brought to a town called Storybrooke. Everyone was cursed to forget who they were. Magic was sucked from the land, and we were all doomed to forever live our lives as pathetic versions of ourselves.”

Frowning, Rumple took his plate and limped toward the sink. Depositing it, he turned and continued, “My counterpart was Mr. Gold. The local pawnshop owner and slum lord. Theoretically, I ran the town.” Smiling sheepishly, he said, “Not that I did much running until Emma showed up and I remembered who I was.”

Harriet nodded, puzzled as to the strength of such a curse. Seeing Rumple’s guilty expression, however, she had a suspicious feeling she knew who was responsible for it. However, that would be a conversation for another time.

“The town amplified our weaknesses,” Rumple said with a tired shrug, “One of my weaknesses was my leg. So, as Mr. Gold, I limped.”

Frowning, Harriet asked, “But didn’t you say the curse was broken?”

“Yes,” Rumple replied, “It was, but it didn’t bring magic back to the land. I did.”

“How in the world…...?” Harriet began, mind whirling with how magic like that could possibly exist. She was used to spells, incantations, potions and divination. Not whatever passed as magic in the Enchanted Forest and Storybrooke.

Rumple smirked and cut her off, “A very strong potion”

“So,” Harriet said, trying to piece everything together, “You brought magic back and then stopped limping?’

“No,” Rumple said quietly, “I kept the limp. I was trying to find my son and it reminded me who I used to be.” Pausing, Rumple looked Harriet in the eye and said, “I had forgotten what it was like to be a father. I thought the limp would help remind me.”

“And did it?” Harriet asked.

Rumple just nodded, “For a time.”

“But then….?” Harriet began to ask but stopped, “Oh.”

Rumple didn’t say anything, dread forming in the pit of his stomach as Harriet said, “You stopped limping when your son died.”

Rumple closed his eyes and nodded. Tears threatening to fall. However, he refused to let them come. He had too much to do to fall into the maelstrom of grief that always threatened to choke him when speaking of his boy.

“Yes,” Rumple replied, “But maybe I shouldn’t have. It did me no good to forget.”

Harriet took a step toward Rumple, determined to hug him again, when he turned from her and limped toward the living room. He desperately wanted to change the subject before Harriet realized he was the reason that Storybrooke existed. He wasn’t sure their friendship was strong enough for Harriet to know his part in the Dark Curse.

Especially not so soon after hurting her.

Opening the end table drawer, Rumple pulled out three matchbox sized journals. Placing them on the coffee table he moved his hand over them, and they returned to their original size. Sighing deeply, Rumple sat on the couch and opened the first journal to begin reading.

“Do you want some help?” Harriet asked worriedly, coming to rest lightly next to him.

Rumple looked at her and grimaced. While he wasn’t eager to read the journals, he was ready for a subject change, “I have to do this alone Harriet. I need to face who I was.”

Harriet had nothing to say to that. She just nodded her head and bit her lip. She knew Rumple was right, but she also knew he was doing this as a way to punish himself. It was his form of self-flagellation.

As Rumple began reading, Harriet leaned back and closed her eyes. She needed time to process all the new information. There was so much to piece together that Harriet felt overwhelmed. However, she knew that getting a clearer idea of Rumpelstiltskin would help in better understanding their situation.

Still, that was easier said than done. Rumple was not an open book and the little information she could glean from him did not point her in any direction. Thoughtfully, Harriet stood and walked into her bedroom, picking up an unused journal and pen. Looking at her copy of Grimm's Fairy tales, Harriet took it from the shelf and began her own research. She needed to understand how magic worked in Rumpelstiltskin’s world. Until then, she felt she would always be one step behind.

Storybrooke

Belle couldn’t believe what Killian had done. After Rumple’s banishment, they had gotten along well. He would even come to the library for advice on occasion. Never once did she think he would betray her to Rumpelstiltskin, of all people. She thought they were friends! Grimacing, she remembered Rumple had advised her against trusting the pirate. He said that Killian’s spite would always dictate how he interacted with others. She hadn’t believed him, preferring to see kindness in the pirate. Now, she realized her husband had been right.

“Husband?” She thought to herself, feeling the urge to cry, “Was he still her husband?” None of her texts or calls were being responded to. She had left various voicemails, and she could feel panic claw at her chest. What was he going to do? What could he do from the Land of No Magic?

Knowing Rumpelstiltskin, a lot.

He could be spiteful when he wanted to be, and she knew seeing her with another man would bring it out of him. The part of her that was still Lacey, was actually thrilled at the prospect. Was that why she did this? To make her husband jealous? They were True Love, so what had she been thinking?

Finally, after twenty minutes she got a response.

“Stop texting!”

Sighing, she put her phone down and watched Will try and eat. He was doing his best to ignore the fact that his girlfriend was telling her husband about their affair. It did not put him in a good light and Will knew it.

“He threatened to kill me yet?” Will asked as he looked at Belle, trying to appear nonchalant.

“No,” Belle whispered, tears threatening to fall, “He told me to stop texting.”

“It’s to be expected,” Will said gently as Belle grabbed her phone and dialed Rumple’s number one more time. She couldn’t leave it like this. She had to tell Rumpelstiltskin something. Yet, when the phone finally rang through, there was a woman on the other end.

“Will you stop calling,” the woman hissed, “He’s in the bathroom.”

“Who is this?” Belle asked, her voice hard. She faintly noticed the woman had an accent but was more concerned by the fact that someone, not Rumpelstiltskin, was answering his phone. She felt her stomach twist with jealousy.

“ I know you want to talk to your husband,” The other woman snapped, ignoring Belle’s question, “but he doesn’t want to talk to you. He’s heartbroken. So, fuck off!”

The phone call disconnected, and all Belle could do was stare at her phone. She hadn’t thought Rumple knew anyone in the Land of No Magic. Now here he was, spending time with someone else. A female someone else.

What did that mean?

London

Harriet sat Rumple’s phone back in its place. She shouldn’t have answered it. Despite the constant buzzing and Rumple reading her some of Belle’s messages, it hadn’t been appropriate for her to insert herself into their private affairs. No matter how much the ringing was getting on her nerves.

From what Rumple had read, Belle seemed panicked; almost like she was afraid of him. That had bothered him, and he had quickly excused himself to the bathroom. Harriet suspected Rumple was trying to put space between them, afraid he would hurt her again. It saddened Harriet that he no longer trusted himself to be vulnerable with her.

Rumple had been surprised that Killian told Belle what he had done, but Harriet was sure it had been motivated by guilt. Nobody knew better than Killian what Rumple could do in a jealous temper. Yet, that hadn’t stopped him from putting Belle and Will in danger.

Sighing, Harriet bit her lip. She knew when she looked at the phone who it would be. Yet when she saw the name, Belle Gold, jealousy reared its ugly head and she found herself answering the call.

“Beauty?” Rumple said, pulling her from her thoughts. He sounded faintly bemused, but Harriet still winced.

“You okay, dearie?” Rumple asked quietly, reaching out and brushing his fingers against her wrist.

Harriet smiled sheepishly and said, “I shouldn’t have answered the phone, but the ringing was getting on my nerves.”

Rumple reached for his phone and silenced it.

“She shouldn't bother us again,” Rumple said as he sat back on the couch. Picking up his journal, he stared at it and frowned.

Tom Riddle had been utterly alone. With nobody to speak to, he had started using diaries as a way of recounting the events of his day. What had started out as progress reports had turned into a source of comfort. It freed Tom’s thoughts and allowed him to write things he normally wouldn’t have. There were moments in his dairies where he had been rather crass about the things he had done, and Rumple was thankful that nobody had ever read them.

“Thank you,” Harriet replied with a relieved sigh, “I don’t think I could take another of her texts.”

“Neither could I,” Rumple agreed, his expression glum. He knew the journals could be important, but he wished he had never found them. To be reminded of how he used to be on top of everything else, was becoming too much for him.

“Rumple?” Harriet asked, hoping to catch him before he began reading.

“Yes, Beauty?” Rumple asked, looking from the journal to the young woman next to him. She was biting her lip again, causing him to wince slightly. He knew her lips must be painful, as swollen and red as they were, but they still beckoned him. Clearing his throat, he made himself look into Harriet’s face.

As usual, Harriet didn’t notice his ogling.

He was going to have to figure out a way to block their connection without causing harm. He was sitting here, heartbroken and distraught over his wife’s affair, and yet he was ogling another woman. He felt pulled toward her and yet he couldn’t understand the compulsion. He had never felt this constant pull and tug toward another person before. It shouldn’t be possible after finding his True Love.

Of course, it turned out that their love wasn’t exactly true. Between Belle’s flip-flopping emotions, his inability to trust, her inability to listen, and his ogling another woman, Rumple felt that he was finally seeing the obvious red flags in their relationship. Red flags that had always been there. After all, she had only come back to him in the Enchanted Forest when she discovered she could break his curse. She never would have returned otherwise.

“You’re from a world of fairy tales, right?” Harriet began. Looking at her own journal while tapping her pen.

“Yes, darl.d..dearie,” Rumples stuttered, frowning slightly. Was he about to call her darling? Shaking his head he asked,“Why?”

“I was just curious about where you came from,” Harriet continued not noticing his stuttering, “Wondering what it was about the Enchanted Forest that helped you become a better person.”

Rumple snorted, “I’m hardly a better person, Beauty.”

“Better than Lord Voldemort,” Harriet replied with a smirk.

“That’s not a high bar,” Rumple begrudgingly muttered, causing Harriet to laugh.

“Maybe not, Rum,” Harriet snickered, “But it’s a bar.”

Rumple just rolled his eyes and noticed that she was staring at him. Blushing lightly she looked away and continued, “I just find the change in you fascinating.”

Rumple smirked and decided to humor her, “Every fairy-tale ever told originated from the Enchanted Forest. So maybe you’re right. Maybe something about the place contributed to my change in temperament.”

Harriet began to speak but Rumple put his hand up to stop her, “I don’t know how the transfer of information happens. Maybe it has something to do with dreams or maybe some strange cosmic connection.” Harriet said nothing, just frowned and Rumple continued, “Either way, stories are everyday life in the Enchanted Forest and I’ve been a part of many of them.”

Rumple took a deep breath and continued, “When I was a boy, my father preferred an extended adolescence to parenthood and became Peter Pan. I myself later became the Crocodile and proceeded to turn Killian Jones into Captain Hook.”

Harriet just grimaced and then prompted him to continue, “When I met Cora Mills, I taught her magic and how to spin straw into gold. In return, she was supposed to marry me.”

Harriet looked surprised, but once again said nothing. Rumple frowned at his memories, “I fancied myself in love with her. She wanted power and prestige, and I was lonely. I thought she was my equal.”

Rumple paused and then continued, “But she wasn’t. Before she allowed herself to love me, she ripped her own heart out of her chest.” Rumple grimaced and said, “Later… much later. She became the Queen of Hearts.”

“And you and Belle?” Harriet asked timidly. Rumple was just barely grazing his life and she could tell it had been tumultuous.

“Ah,” Rumple said with a twisted grimace, “Can’t you tell?”

“Beauty and the Beast,” Harriet said quietly, and Rumple nodded, “So, Belle is your Beauty.” They were quiet for a moment and then she asked, “Isn’t Belle supposed to be the Beast’s True Love?”

“Yes,” Rumple said tightly and Harriet bit her lip, disappointment curling in her stomach. Were Belle and Rumpelstiltskin really destined for each other? Even after everything that happened between them?

“However,” Rumple continued, intentionally not looking at Harriet, “there are many interpretations of our lives in the Enchanted Forest. Belle clearly inspired the Disney version, but I am hardly that version of the Beast.”

“So you're saying she might not be the right Beauty?” Harriet asked, frowning and looking over at Rumple. Rumple looked away from her then. His nickname for her taking on a new meaning. He could feel his heart begin to race and the words of their prophecy sprang to mind

“And either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives.”

Could the prophecy have been misinterpreted? His mind began whirling and tumbling and he felt himself become queasy. Harriet had just been a baby when that prophecy was given. Surely it hadn’t meant for her to be his True Love? Would fate be so cruel?

“I don’t know,” Rumple replied, his voice gritty, he cleared his throat and went back to his journal, “I don’t really want to think about it.’

Harriet nodded and watched as Rumple tried to continue his reading. His brow was furrowed, and she could tell he was less than pleased. Harriet was glad the journals bothered him. It was more proof that Lord Voldemort and Rumpelstiltskin were different.

She supposed that living his life in a fairy-tale realm, where the rules of magic were different, could be the reason for the change. Rumple’s life had been just as hard in the Enchanted Forest as it had in England. Yet, he hadn’t turned into the same heartless monster he’d been.

However, there was a nagging in the back of her mind that told her she was wrong. That it was something else that contributed to the change in him. Her instincts told her they wouldn’t be separating their minds until they figured it out.

A sudden knock came from the door, starling Harriet. She looked at Rumple, who seemed undisturbed, and bit her lip. She was nervous about who it could be. What if it was someone who could identify Rumple?

“You should answer that,” Rumpelstiltskin replied mildly, still reading his journal.

Sighing, Harriet trudged over to her door and looked through the peephole. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were on the other side of the door.

Pulling back, Harriet whispered in surprise., “Rum, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley is here.”

“Well,” Rumple said, picking up his journals, desizing them, and quickly slipping them into his pocket, “You had better let them in.”

Swallowing, she nodded and pulled open the door. Rumple stood and made sure his spinning wheel was placed under an invisibility charm.

“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley?” Harriet asked timidly, looking between the older man and woman, “What are you doing here?”

“We hadn’t heard from you in a while,” Mr. Weasley said quietly, “Then Remus floo called and said he had heard yelling here earlier. We were worried about you.”

“Remus heard that?” Harriet winced and motioned for the Weasleys to come in. Never having seen Harriet’s apartment, they were taken aback with how small it was.

“You live here?” Mrs. Weasley asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” Harriet said with a casual shrug, “It’s just me and Kreacher, we don’t need a lot of room.”

“Although,” Rumple quipped, walking up behind Harriet and putting his arm around her waist, “If I stay here much longer, then I’m going to have to request an addition.”

“And you are?” Mr. Weasley asked, his voice stiff and suspicious. Mrs. Weasley looked worriedly between Harriet and Rumple.

“Rumplestiltskin Gold,” Rumple replied. Smiling charmingly, he reached to shake Mr. Weasley’s hand. Hesitantly, Mr. Weasley complied, and Rumple continued, “I’m a friend of Harriet’s.”

“Yes,” Mrs. Weasley said faintly, “Remus mentioned you.”

Everyone was silent for a moment and then Mr. Weasley asked, “You’ve been staying with Harriet?”

“Yes,” Rumpelstiltskin replied, still attempting to be charming, “She’s been kind enough to allow me to stay on her couch. I’ve been having some bad luck recently.”

Mr. Weasley’s eyes lingered on Rumple’s wedding ring. Rumple frowned slightly as he slid his hand into his pocket. He cursed himself for putting his ring back on. It had been an impulse after they returned from their outing. A reminder as to his situation. Not that it mattered now.

“Clearly,” Mr. Weasley said, with a stiff smile.

“Harriet dear,” Mrs. Weasley began. She took Harriet’s hand and dragged her toward the door, “Might we have a word?”

Harriet just nodded and followed the Weasleys as they exited into the foyer. She looked back at Rumple, who looked worried, and made sure to crack the door on her way out; knowing Rumple would prefer to listen.

Making sure to stand in front of the cracked door, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

“You have an older man living with you.” Mr. Weasley stated his tone was mild, but she could see the disappointment on his face. Harriet sighed.

“Mr. Weasley,” Harriet began, “You didn’t mind when it was Remus.”

“Remus was James and Sirius’ best friend. You helped him keep custody of Teddy by letting him live with you.” Mr. Weasley pointed at Harriet's door, “That man is different.”

“Remus used me as a surrogate mother, and nobody seemed to have a problem with it.” Harriet snapped, irritated with the whole conversation, “Yet, me having a friend has everybody flustered.”

“We aren’t flustered!” Mrs. Weasley heatedly replied, “We ARE worried! Remus said he heard screaming here earlier!”

“He thinks this man is hurting you,” Mr. Weasley continued, his face pinched.

“Then why didn’t he show up?” Harriet asked, crossing her arms and giving the Weasley’s a mulish look, “If he was oh so worried?”

As if on cue, Remus came out of his apartment and hurriedly dashed toward the small group.

“I didn’t think I would be welcome,” Remus said, standing too close to Harriet. In order to put space between them, Harriet took a step back, bumping into the doorframe and causing Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to frown. Harriet just stared at Remus, a startling realization hitting her like a ton of bricks.

“You’re a coward,” Harriet snarled, “And I’m sick of dealing with your bullshit.”

Remus began to argue but Harriet cut him off. She didn’t want to use her condition as an excuse, but she had to tell them something, “I can’t be alone right now, it’s not safe for me.”

“What do you mean,” Mrs. Weasley asked, concerned, “Not safe?”

“If I’m alone, I’ll drink,” Harriet replied matter-of-factly, “With Rumple here, I don’t. Even if I made Kreacher buy me wine, Rumple would pour it out. He keeps me honest. I need that right now.”

“We could do that for,” Mr. Weasley began but Harriet cut him off, “No you couldn’t Mr. Weasley. You gave me an ultimatum the last time I left rehab.” Swallowing, she crossed her arms and asked, “Which begs the question, why are you even here?”

“Hermione pointed out how unfair we’ve been,” Mrs. Weasley said quietly, “You’ve had a hard life and she thinks you’re using alcohol to ignore your feelings.”

Harriet turned her face away and stared at the door to the foyer. Hermione wasn’t wrong. She was self medicating, but mostly because she had nobody to turn to. After the war, everyone assumed that she wouldn’t need extra support. Despite knowing she had died, they all acted as if she would be fine.

“The only person I can count on is Rum,” Harriet thought to herself. “How fucked up is that?”

Suddenly, the door to Harriet’s apartment opened.

“Kreacher made tea and biscuits,” Rumple announced. His eyes fell on Remus and his smile turned rigid, “Please come and enjoy them.”

Holding the door open, Rumple eyed the Weasleys as they reentered the apartment. While he didn’t think they knew what Lord Voldemort really looked like, he couldn’t be too sure a stray picture hadn’t been misplaced in either of their family belongings. Wizarding families were notorious for keeping everything from dead family members and both of them had been purebloods.

Remus, however, was another matter. He knew the wolf had no idea who he was, but that didn’t stop his intense dislike. He wished he could throw him out, but knew it wasn’t his place. This was Harriet’s apartment, and he would respect her wishes.

Glancing to see if their guests were distracted, Harriet quietly shut the door behind her and whispered, “Thank you. ”

Rumple only shook his head and jerked it towards Kreacher, indicating the elf was to get the credit. Harriet smiled at Kreacher and said, “Thank you for the tea, Kreacher.”

“Of course, Mistress,” Kreacher croaked, bowing to her. He then motioned for everyone to take their seats. Rumples quickly sat next to Harriet so he could keep his eye on Remus. He didn’t trust the wolf. There was something about his possessiveness of Harriet that bothered Rumple.

“Could it possibly be our own possessiveness?” The Darkness hissed. Once again Rumple ignored it.

“This is delightful,” Mrs. Weasley complimented. Despite Kreacher’s actions during the final battle, she still couldn’t believe this was the same house elf Sirius hated. He had changed so drastically over the past twelve years. Everyone watched as Kreacher respectfully bowed and retreated to his room.

Remus looked at Harriet and said, “I’m sorry. I just didn’t know how to check on you.”

“Learn to knock,” Harriet snapped. Remus grimaced but said nothing more. Silence blanketed the kitchenette, only to be broken by Mr. Weasley, "Why was there yelling earlier?”

“I received some .... unpleasant news,” Rumple replied, keeping his face impassive, “I may have had a rather unpleasant reaction.”

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley scowled, and Harriet said, “Luckily, I was here to calm him down.”

“Harriet has been good to me,” Rumple replied with a fond smile, sipping his tea.

“And how do we know we can trust you?” Mrs. Weasleys sniped, “Who are your people?”

“Nobody you would know,” Rumple said stiffly. Taking another sip of his tea, Rumple continued rather snidely, “I’m surprised you haven’t taken into consideration that I could be a muggle born. With your own family connections, I’m sure you can’t forget they exist.”

Mrs. Weasley had the grace to blush. However, she pursed her lips and continued with her questioning, “Where did you go to school?”

“I’m self-taught,” Rumple replied with a glare. It wasn’t a lie. He had taught himself how to use magic in the Enchanted Forest. Of course, the Darkness had helped him. Without it, he would have been lost on many of the rules of magic. Sniffing in annoyance, he continued, “With the help of a tutor, of course.”

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips but decided to keep her opinions to herself. If they could afford to send seven children to Hogwarts as poor as they were, what had prompted this man to be taught by a tutor? She couldn’t think of a good reason, and it bothered her.

Drinking her tea, she watched in silence as Harriet interacted with Rumpelstiltskin. Despite claiming friendship, it was obvious to Mrs. Weasley that Harriet was becoming infatuated. With each passing minute, she grew more worried. Who was this man to captivate Harriet’s attention? She had never seen her like this before.

Nibbling on another biscuit, she watched as Remus tried to engage Harriet into conversation, but Harriet resolutely ignored him. Instead, she preferred to lean closer to Rumpelstiltskin, earning him another glare from Remus. In turn, Rumpelstiltskin watched the wolf from the corner of his eye, a vicious smirk gracing his lips. Mrs. Weasley felt her blood run cold. Any man that could look at another person with such malice was someone to fear.

However, when Harriet spoke, his smirk softened into a boyish smile. The man’s eyes calmed and then brightened, and he answered Harriet with good humor. He was a contradiction and it left Mrs. Weasley feeling unsettled. Needing a second opinion, she made a decision.

“We’re having dinner tonight,” Mrs. Weasley announced, filling the silence that had fallen “A reunion for the Order of Phoenix.” Mrs. Weasley paused and watched as Harriet looked resigned.

Mrs. Weasley felt bad for not inviting Harriet earlier. She could only blame her own hard feelings for their estrangement, “We want you there, Harriet.”

Harriet didn’t know how to respond. She was hurt that she was just now hearing about a reunion but was also unsurprised. Most everyone had distanced themselves from her over the years.

“And bring Mr. Gold with you,” Mrs. Weasley continued, startling Harriet.

“Mrs. Weasley,” Rumple began. There was no way he could be in the same room as Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore. However, he was cut off by Mr. Weasley.

“We aren't taking no for an answer, Mr. Gold,” Mr. Weasley said with a tight smile.

“Exactly,” Mrs. Weasley agreed with a stiff smile of her own, “We want you both there.”

Harriet just nodded, swallowing nervously. Remus said nothing as he followed the Weasleys out the door. Turning back to Harriet, Mrs. Weasley hugged her and said, “We’ll see you at six.”

Then they left. Leaving a deafening silence in their wake, only broken when Kreacher started cleaning the kitchenette. Looking at Rumple, Harriet asked, “How fucked are we?”

“Extremely,” Rumple replied, running his hand down his face.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Harriet whispered, pacing in front of the door. They didn’t have to go, but she knew not attending would alarm the Weasleys. She could tell they were already suspicious. Mrs. Weasley had asked too many questions and Mr. Weasley had been too quiet. Running off now would only alarm the whole Order of Phoenix. However, taking Rumple to an order meeting would cause a riot.

Groaning, Harriet stopped pacing and looked at Rumple. She knew not taking him would be the best option, but that would involve lying. While she could be surprisingly good at it, she knew lying to the Order would only make her nervous. They would sense something was wrong and become suspicious, Dumbledore in particular. A suspicious Dumbledore was a dangerous Dumbledore.

“Rumple,” Harriet groaned, fighting panic, “What are we going to do? We can’t even use a glamor spell!”

“A recognize-me-not-spell,” Rumple muttered. As Harriet paced, Rumple had been deep in thought. He would not go to Azkaban, he had a grandson to care for, and he refused for Harriet to be seen as anything other than a hero.

“There’s a spell for that?” Harriet asked, surprised enough to stop pacing.

“Yes,” Rumple replied with a smirk, “It’s an older spell. One that fell out of popularity before you were born. The Ministry discouraged it by classifying it as “dark” magic.” Rumple used air quotes and rolled his eyes. The number of spells that had been put on the “dark” magic list was really rather insulting. Most of them were not even remotely dark.

“Will it be easy to do?” Harriet asked, looking at the time. They only had a few hours before they had to be at the Weasleys.

A snap,” Rumple replied with a smile. He took the journals out of his pocket and resized them. Placing them in the end table he said, “Usually this spell is used to influence everyone in the general area, but I’m confident that I can modify it specifically for Severus and Albus.

“Fine,” Harriet said resignedly. Rumple could see the panic in her eyes, “You do what you gotta do. I’m going to my room. Hopefully, I’ll find something in my wardrobe that doesn’t make me look like death.”

Rumple watched as Harriet stomped to her room and closed the door. He felt his stomach twist and his chest tighten. He couldn’t tell if it was another heart attack or if it was his anxiety. Heading for the shower, Rumple hoped the hot water would calm his nerves and allow him to focus on the spell he would soon cast. It had to be perfect, or they were ruined

Storybrooke

Looking around, Henry slipped out the back of the school, hoping to avoid the cameras that were recently added to the front. Tightening his backpack straps, he began jogging, knowing it would take at least twenty minutes to get across town. Glancing at his watch, Henry estimated that he had an hour and a half before the school noticed his absence.

He had lied to Ms. Potts, his art teacher, and said he hadn’t felt well. She had given him permission to miss her class to see the nurse. Luckily, her class was right after his thirty-minute lunch, giving him some additional time before anyone would call his mothers. Taking a side street, Henry guessed that he probably had an additional fifteen minutes before Emma and Regina would think to call Archie. By that point, he hoped to have a mostly convincing reason for skipping school.

Honestly, he didn’t know how his grandfather kept scheming all the time. While Henry found it thrilling, he also found it exhausting. Plus, he felt bad for lying to perfectly nice people. Ms. Potts would probably think twice before trusting him again.

Sighing, Henry was about to come to the end of the street when a black SUV pulled up next to him and honked. Startled, Henry looked to find Archie smiling at him.

“Get in,” Archie called out the window, motioning for him to hurry.

Henry crossed in front of the car and climbed into the passenger seat, “How’d you know?”

“Ruby told me to pick you up,” Archie replied with a strained smile, “Knowing you, I figured you would take the side street.”

“Where are we going?” Henry asked, biting his lip; a nervous habit that he couldn’t seem to break.

“To see Micheal,” Archie replied, keeping his eyes on the road, “The Sorcerer's Apprentice.”

“Does anyone know how he got out of the hat?” Henry asked as he slid down far enough that nobody could see him from the window.

“They’re tinted Henry,” Archie replied with a faint smile. Henry was a troublemaker; that much had been obvious from the first time he had ever met him. However, he could never have guessed how well he took to trouble. He used to think it was because of Emma, but now he was starting to suspect that Henry’s knack for trouble came from his paternal side of the family.

Sighing in relief, Henry nodded and sat up. He noticed that Archie hadn’t answered his question and found that interesting. Did Archie know something? All Henry knew was that his mothers had been fiddling with the hat, trying to figure out how to activate it. The next day, the Apprentice and the fairies had awoken in their own homes with no knowledge of how they got there. It stood to reason that Archie would investigate it. He often looked into matters that nobody else seemed to care about.

Certainly Emma hadn’t. She had moved on quickly, citing the excuse that the hat must have lost power. Henry knew enough about magic to know that powerful artifacts like the Sorcerer's hat just didn’t lose power. Someone else had let everyone out.

The question was who?

Archie stopped the car, startling Henry from his thoughts. Looking around he saw they had pulled up in front of a small unremarkable cottage. Within moments, they were inside the house with Henry sitting comfortably on Micheal’s couch, eating milk and cookies.

“So Henry,” Micheal began, “Archie and Ruby told me you have a plan.”

“Yes,” Henry replied, pulling out the Once Upon a Time book. Frowning, Henry looked at Micheal and asked, “Why is it bigger now?”

Micheal leaned forward and asked, “Bigger?”

“Heavier,” Henry amended, frowning. He opened the book and on the front page was the usual table of contents. However, when Henry turned to the next page, he saw that there were additional stories.

“There are seven new stories.” Henry muttered.

“Seven.” Archie echoed, looking over Henry’s shoulder, “Why seven?”

“They all seem to be about the same person,” Ruby replied. Looking over Henry's shoulder she read, “Harriet Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, Harriet Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Harriet Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Harriet Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Harriet Potter and the Order of Phoenix, Harriet Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, and Harriet Potter and the Deathly Hallows.”

“Who is Harriet Potter?” Henry asked. He turned to the first page of the first story and there in front of him was a young girl. She had piercing green eyes, with wild black hair, and a lighting bolt scar right in the middle of her forehead. Ruby gasped.

“That’s the Savior,” Ruby said, fishing out the red book from her purse, “See?”

Henry looked at the red leather book. It was the same girl in both pictures despite the differences in age.

“Savior?” Henry asked, the word finally registering.

“She can help us with the dagger,” Ruby said, looking at Micheal to explain.

“We think she will be able to withstand the pull of the dagger,” Micheal informed Henry who was still frowning, “From what I have read in the book, she is a powerful witch in her own right.”

“If she had the dagger that would make her even more powerful,” Henry pointed out, “She would control my Grandpapa!”

Henry didn’t like this, not in the slightest.

“Yes,” Micheal admitted, “That is a risk. However, I believe out of all the heroes we know, she can withstand the temptation.”

“How could she, when Belle couldn’t?” Henry asked, thinking of what Belle had told him she had done; used the dagger on his Grandpapa to make him leave Storybrooke. To make him leave Henry.

“Because she has withstood something similar,” Archie said, coming around to sit next to Henry. He could tell the young boy was upset and he wanted Henry to know that there was at least one adult on his side.

“In the red book it spoke of something called a horcrux,” Archie continued, “I don’t really understand all of it, but it seemed to be similar to the dagger.”

“It said she helped destroy six of them,” Ruby cut in, “And that she was unaffected by the evil that created them.”

“It didn’t explain more than that,” Archie said, picking up the thread of conversation as Ruby looked for the passage in the book, “The book isn’t very long, but it has given us a starting point.”

“And now we have these stories,” Micheal pointed out.

Henry nodded, still unhappy with the turn of events, and idly began flipping through the pages. The illustrations were extremely detailed and captivating. He was particularly intrigued by a disturbing one in the fourth story.

Harriet was tied to a gravestone and seemed to be in a tremendous amount of pain. A monstrous wizard was looming over her, reaching out to touch her scar. While Harriet was screaming, the man was laughing. She couldn’t have been much older than Henry.

Henry wrinkled his nose as his eyes rested on the wizard. He was an ugly eggshell white, completely bald with red eyes and a snakelike nose. He seemed more like a monster than a human. Henry was about to turn the page when he noticed something familiar about him. It was in the cheek bones and the way the wizard held his hands.

“Does that look like Grandpapa to you?” Henry asked, his voice high and panicked.

As they stared at the illustration, Ruby gasped, and Micheal paled. Archie just frowned in confusion.

“How could that be?” Micheal muttered to himself, “Your grandfather has never looked like that.”

“And yet,” Archie said, confused, “He looks vaguely like him.”

“Could that be another relative?” Ruby asked, trying to hide her own panic, “I mean, Gold’s dad was a son-of-a bitch. Maybe he has a deranged uncle running around?”

“Or another child?” Micheal suggested, shaken “Rumpelstiltskin is very old. It is not out of the question that he might have fathered a child as the Dark One.”

“Has that happened before?” Archie asked, intrigued at the prospect.

“No,” Micheal replied with a shake of the head, “But Rumpelstiltskin is no ordinary Dark One.”

“Or,” Henry muttered thinking of the sadness and panic in his Grandpapa’s voice, “Or maybe it’s him.”

“Maybe,” Archie said, looking at Henry’s devastated face and putting an arm around him, “Whatever may have happened in the past, Mr. Gold loves you.”

Henry smiled grimly and ran his hand over the illustration. The man in the picture oozed evil in a way his Grandpapa never had. Could this have been right after he lost his dad? Rumpelstiltskin would have been at his most vulnerable, maybe the Darkness had taken a hold of him then?

“Whoever it is,” Ruby said with a groan, “We can’t worry about it. We need Gold back, and we need to find this Savior.”

Henry frowned when he flipped back to the first story and saw the words Little Whinging, Surrey.

“Isn’t Surrey in England?” Henry asked, biting his lip. He felt a sense of dread in his stomach.

Ruby took out her phone and looked it up. Swallowing, she said, “Yes.”

“When I called Grandpapa,” Henry said quietly, “A woman picked up the phone.”

“A woman?” Archie asked, confused. Where was Henry going with this?”

“Yes,” Henry said looking at Archie, “She had an English accent.”

The room was quiet for a moment and then Ruby asked, “Are you telling me Gold could have already found the Savior?”

“Possibly,” Archie said with a soft laugh, “Mr. Gold is always five steps ahead of us.”

“But he wouldn’t know about the Savior,” Micheal said with a frown, looking at the book in Henry’s lap.

“And if he did,” Ruby said frightened, “Wouldn’t he try and get rid of her?”

“She wasn’t afraid,” Henry replied faintly, “Her voice was kind, and she seemed like she was worried about me. Then Grandpapa took the phone.” Henry thought back to the way Rumpelstiltskin’s voice softened when speaking about her. It was almost reverent.

“No,” Henry said, denying what everyone else was assuming, “He …. likes.... her.” Like didn’t seem like the right word but Henry pushed forward, “He said she was an old friend that he had to help. I don’t think he means to hurt her.”

“Old friend,” Micheal whispered looking at the book. Everyone was silent.

“We need to speak to Rumpelstiltskin,” Archie said, voicing what everyone else was thinking, “While I think we should still focus on letting him back in, we need to know what these stories mean.”

“Well, at least I have a plan for that,” Henry said carefully, closing the book and forcing himself to get back on task.

“Then let’s hear it,” Micheal commanded, agitated by the unexpected turn of events.

“Then we can call your grandpa and he can fill us in on whatever crap this is,” Ruby muttered as she gestured toward the book.

Henry nodded. He felt way over his head and was very glad that this time, he had help.

London

Rumple was pacing in front of his spinning wheel, nervous and annoyed. Harriet had already changed five times and from the amount of angry noise coming from her room, he was sure she still hadn’t found an acceptable outfit. If she kept this up, they would be late.

Cursing, Rumple began stomping toward Harriet’s room. If she needed an outfit that badly he would just make her one, when his phone suddenly rang. Frowning, he quickly answered. It was Henry.

“Lad,” Rumplestilskin said with a relieved sigh, “I’m glad to hear from you.”

“Grandpapa,” Henry said, smiling for the first time despite his nerves, “I’m going to put you on Facetime.”

“Why?” Rumple asked, pulling his phone away. Looking at his screen he saw the picture come in and there was Henry. Archie and Ruby were on either side of him.

“Well hello Ruby,” Rumplestilskin said, trying to hide his surprise, “Dr. Hopper. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to call you back. It’s….been interesting on my end.”

“It’s okay Mr. Gold,” Ruby said, looking uncomfortable, “But…we have a few questions.”

“What’s going on?” Rumple asked. Suddenly, Henry held up a red book. The screen blurred and then focused on a picture of a young Harriet.

“Where did you get that book?” Rumple asked, he felt his heart clench.

“I had it,” Micheal said, coming up behind Henry, “I found it soon after you left Storybrooke.

Rumple swallowed. He would bet good money it materialized just as soon as he remembered who he was.

“And the Once Upon a Time book has new stories,” Henry said, and Rumple focused on his grandson, “About a Harriet Potter.”

“Someone say my name?” Harriet called, poking her head out of her room. Rumple pinched the bridge of his nose and said, “Henry.”

“Henry’s on the phone?” Harriet asked with a smile, “Let me get dressed.”

Irritated, Rumple snapped his fingers and Harriet squeaked in surprise. She came out of her room dressed in a sleeveless yellow dress, with a red button down sweater, and black tights. She wore red flats and her hair was pulled back in a neat french twist. A long rose pin held her hair in place and Harriet’s broom necklace rested neatly against her breasts.

“You couldn’t have done this sooner?” Harriet muttered, sitting next to him on the couch and leaning against his shoulder so she could see the phone.

“Hey Henry,” Harriet said, waving her fingers at the boy. Henry’s eyes widened as he looked at Harriet.

“It’s you!” Micheal whispered, eyes focused on her scar.

“It’s me?” Harriet asked, confused and a little alarmed.

“You're the Savior,” Henry said simply.

“Come again?” Harriet squeaked. Henry simply held the red leather book for Harriet to see. Her frown deepened. Henry then showed her the Once Upon a Time book’s table of contents. Seven stories with her name.

“How?” Harriet asked, swallowing her fear.

“It happened not long after I was banished,” Rumple said quietly.

Harriet stiffened and looked at Rumple, “When you remembered?”

“Yes,” Rumple cut her off and gave her a warning glance. Henry noticed and his heart plummeted.

“It’s you then,” Henry said quietly, clearly disappointed. Rumple swallowed as he looked at Henry’s crestfallen face. He watched as his grandson held up a picture of Harriet tied to a gravestone and Lord Voldemort looming over her.

Rumple’s heart stuttered to a stop. It was the graveyard. The night when he had circumvented her mother’s protection and led them both irrevocably to their destiny. He felt his throat tighten in regret and then a stabbing pain slammed into his chest. Grimacing, he quickly handed Harriet the phone and leaned forward, clutching his heart.

Harriet was alarmed, but made sure to keep her features neutral. She didn’t know if she could trust the other people in the room with Henry, but she did know that Rumple’s weakness needed to be kept secret. Right now they thought of him as the all powerful Dark One and Harriet wasn’t in a hurry to dissuade them of that opinion.

However, she was surprised they were able to connect Rum with Lord Voldemort so quickly. They barely looked alike. Bringing the screen closer to her face, she studied the illustration. There could be no denying who it was. For some reason, only known to magic, the illustration had made sure to combine the two aspects of Rumplestilskin’s personality.

“Yes, Henry,” Harriet said. She watched as Henry took the book away from the camera and looked at Harriet. There was such sadness in the boy’s eyes, “That's your grandfather.”

“But when?” Archie asked, with a frown, “He looks nothing like he did in the Enchanted Forest.”

“That was before,” Harriet said, keeping an eye on Rumplestilskin as the man focused on his breathing, “Before he was Rumplestilskin.”

“That makes no sense,” Micheal said with a frown, “There was nothing before Rumplestilskin.”

“Before Rumplestilskin was Tom Marvolo Riddle,” Harriet replied in a stiff voice, “An extremely violent psychopath whose main goal was to live forever.”

“He’s the reason that the Dark One exists,” Harriet continued, glancing at Rumple to make sure he was still breathing, “He’s the Dark One in fact.”

Micheal began to speak but Rumple, who had finally overcome his heart attack, interrupted, “I was reincarnated.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Rumple leaned into Harriet, his face gray and pale. Henry was immediately alarmed.

“Grandpapa,” Henry said leaning forward, “What’s wrong.”

“A heart attack,” Rumple replied truthfully. Harriet grimaced, hoping Rumple knew what he was doing by trusting the other people in the room, “I’ve just started having them.”

“Why?” Henry asked, worried.

“I don’t know,” Rumple said, wincing as he moved. It felt like a giant had punched him in the chest. Harriet shifted closer to him to make sure they were both in the camera.

“We don’t know a lot,” Harriet replied with a very deep sigh, “We know that after he was banished from Storybrooke, he remembered who he used to be. I then started having horrible nightmares.” Harriet swallowed, remembering the many things Rumple had done to try and kill himself, “We think it has something to do with the horcruxes. That he made them wrong, but we don’t know anything for sure.”

“We’re stuck,” Rumple said, glancing over at Harriet. Unhappy to admit they’d hit a wall.

“Hogwarts might have the information,” Harriet said, sighing again, “But we have been avoiding it.”

“Why?” Ruby asked, trying to process the situation, “I’m confused.”

“It’s complicated for sure,” Harriet replied absently rubbing her forehead, “But Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster of the school, could recognize Rumple and we’re trying to avoid detection.”

“Anyone could recognize him,” Henry said looking at the book, “He doesn’t look that different.”

“The illustration isn’t accurate Henry,” Harriet said, grimacing, “The book probably wanted you to realize who Lord Voldemort was. However, in real life there wasn’t much of Rumplestilskin in him by that point.”

“There was never Rumplestilskin in him,” Rumple replied, his voice breaking, “Who I am now is very different to who I used to be.”

“How can we know for sure?” Archie finally asked. He looked at Rumple sadly and continued, “We know how to bring you back to Storybrooke. We were wanting to bring you back. However, now….”

“You understand our hesitation,” Micheal continued, his voice hard, “You are an even bigger threat than we believed. How are we to feel comfortable bringing you back anywhere near your dagger?”

“He isn’t like that anymore,” Harriet hissed, “Do you think I would allow him anywhere near me, if he were?”

Nobody said anything, surprised by the venom in Harriet’s voice. Finally Ruby said thoughtfully, “It’s odd that you’re together. You’re the Savior, after all. The one destined to possess the dagger.”

“Possess the dagger?” Rumple echoed. What little color he had regained, drained from his face.

“Yes,” Micheal replied, glancing at Rumplestilskin, “It is my belief that Harriet is the only one unable to be corrupted by the dagger. That she will be its Guardian.”

“I don’t want that thing,” Harriet snapped, looking at Rumple in panic. They had just now got back on equal footing. She didn’t want anything to get in the way of their partnership, and she knew that Rumple was hyper focused on being controlled.

“Why not?” Micheal asked, surprised.

“Why not?” Harriet echoed in disbelief, “I don’t want to control him! Who wants to control someone they care about?”

Rumple glanced at Harriet in surprise. He knew they were friends but to hear her casually admitting it was startling.

“Care for?” Micheall whispered in shock, “We have only read the first two stories in the book but it is enough to understand the relationship you two shared. He is your villain in every way. He is a monster.”

“He was a monster,” Harriet conceded, “But he isn’t now. He IS a man. A man that has learned to love and care and feel. He was never able to before.”

“Not once?” Henry asked, looking at his Grandpapa.

“Not even a little,” Rumple replied, looking into his grandson’s eyes. Swallowing, he decided to tell his grandson the horrible truth, “If your father had been born to Lord Voldemort, magicless, he would have killed him. There was no love in him.”

“You speak of Lord Voldemort like he’s a different person,” Archie noted, intrigued.

“He is now,” Rumple replied frowning, “He is the Darkness. Together we make the Dark One.”

“It’s complicated,” Harreit replied, frowning. She was tired of saying that, no matter how true it was, “It’s weird, but honestly we’re just going with it for now.” She swallowed and said, “He wouldn’t hurt you Henry.”

Rumple closed his eyes. Heartbroken that Henry was afraid of him. Henry snorted and said, “I know that. It’s everyone else that’s upset about it.”

Rumple’s eyes flew open and he looked at his grandson. Henry smiled at Rumple and said, “I know you wouldn’t hurt me Grandpapa. Just like you wouldn’t hurt dad or Belle.”

“The heart of the truest believer,” Micheal said, his face impassive, “He believes in you where others cannot.”

“I believe in him too,” Harriet replied, smiling at Rumple. She reached out to squeeze his hand.

“We have a plan to bring you back into Storybrooke.” Archie said, looking at Harriet carefully. While he trusted that Henry wanted to believe the best in Rumple, it was Harriet’s endorsement that meant the most.

“You have my dagger?” Rumple asked in surprise.

“Belle still has it,” Ruby said, frowning, “But if we can keep your arrival secret, you can steal it back.”

“That sounds like fun actually,” Harriet said smirking, “It’s been a while since I stole anything.”

“When we get the scroll,” Archie said overlooking Harriet’s comment, “You will need to get here as fast as possible. It can’t be found missing.”

Harriet and Rumple looked at each other. She bit her lip and Rumple swallowed. She could feel Rumple’s nervousness and fear swirling at the back of her mind. She hoped to alleviate some of that.

“It’s your choice Rum,” Harriet said quietly, “Guardian of the dagger or not. If you don’t want me to have it, then I won’t touch it.”

Rumple stared into Harriet’s eyes and felt her presence gently touch his mind, trying to calm him. However, Rumple pulled away from her and gently pushed her out. Looking away from her, he whispered, “I don’t trust anyone with it.”

Harriet grimaced. Rumple looked at his phone screen and said, “I can’t say that I will give it to her. The dagger corrupts everyone who has ever come into contact with it.”

There was quiet on the phone. Finally Micheal said, “If we can find more evidence to support my theory will you reconsider it?”

Rumple said nothing. He looked at Harriet from the corner of his eye. He could tell she was saddened by his lack of trust in her and felt himself nod jerkily. The Darkness, for once, was silent, and that disquieted him even more.

“When we have more information we will call you,” Micheal said with a sigh, “Until we know more, I can’t in good conscience allow you back into town. Not until you agree.”

Rumple was unsurprised by Micheal’s decision but he was gratified by Henry’s frown. He clearly did not agree with the Apprentice.

“I’m not sure I agree with that,” Ruby said quietly, surprising Rumple, “Not with how things are going.”

“And you want to make it worse?” Micheal snapped, but Archie came to Ruby’s defense, “We want what’s best for the town.”

Micheal just sighed and rubbed his eyes. Finally, he opened them and said, “Please give me more time, my friends. Just a few days.”

Rumple sniffed as Archie and Ruby glanced at each other and then nodded. Henry looked muntious.

“Look,” Harriet said, clearly irritated, “We can’t come right now. So gather your evidence and call us back.”

Henry’s chin jutted out and he looked ready to argue when Rumple said, “Henry, please listen to Harriet.”

Henry sighed then and nodded. He did not look happy.

“Thank you Henry,” Harriet said, smiling at Henry who tentatively smiled back, feeling suddenly shy. Here was a person,who had been Henry’s own age, when she started her adventures. Already Henry was feeling a bit overwhelmed by her presence. Not to mention, impressed by what she had accomplished at such a young age and he still had five stories left to go!

Looking at the clock Harriet said urgently, “We have to go. But we’ll check in with you later.” She disconnected the Facetime call and looked at Rumple.

“Well, that was interesting,” Harriet said, biting her lip.

Rumple just frowned,“Everything has suddenly become a thousand times more complicated.”

“Have they really?” Harriet asked, looking at Rumple intently, “Nothing’s really changed.”

“Except you’re destined to control me,” Rumple muttered darkly, causing Harriet to click her tongue in annoyance.

“Like I'm really going to do that,” Harriet started to say, but Rumple cut her off, “You may have no choice, dearie.”

Harriet just snorted, “ There’s always a choice, Rum.”

Rumple just looked at her then and sighed in frustration. Events were moving faster than he had anticipated and the lack of control Rumple was experiencing was frightening. He spent centuries using his long lost foresight to manipulate others and encourage Regina’s eventual use of the Dark Curse. Even stuck in Storybrooke, Rumple had made sure he had the right tools to stay in control. Now, he felt himself being dragged by the current and it was decidedly uncomfortable.

“I’m not used to being out of control Harriet,” Rumple said quietly, “I always have plans. Plans on top of plans actually.”

“You will soon,” Harriet soothed, reaching out and squeezing his hand, “We just need more information.”

“Until then?” Rumple asked, worriedly.

“Until then we pivot,” Harriet replied, a mischievous grin spreading across her face, “And I’m the Queen of Pivoting.”

Rumple smiled back, nodding. She did have a point. Time and time again she had frustrated his best laid plans. Often causing him to change and reshape plans that had been years in the making. For now, he would trust her to take the lead.

Glancing at the clock, Harriet sighed,“We have ten minutes to get to the Burrow, Rum.”

Taking a deep breath, Rumple held his hand out and sarcastically said, “It’s showtime.”

Nervously, Harriet took it. He pulled her gently to his side and she breathed in his scent to steady her nerves. Everything hinged on Rumple’s ability to deceive Albus and Severus. If that were to fail…. then they had nowhere to run. Not even Storybrooke.

Chapter Text

The Burrow

“What in the hell is this place,” Rumpelstiltskin muttered as they stood outside of the Burrow. The house was several stories high and so crooked that magic was the only thing holding it together. It was a mix of several different types of brick, stone, and wood with five chimneys perched haphazardly on the roof. Several chickens were running amuck in the front yard and Rumple could see an untidy garden in the back corner. He was sure he heard gnomes giggling in the distance.

“I think it’s cozy,” Harriet croaked, emerging from the bushes she’d been puking in. She spit one last time and took the handkerchief that Rumple offered her.

“It’s chaotic,” Rumple muttered as Harriet fixed her outfit and hair. She wiped her mouth one last time and then pocketed the handkerchief. Glancing worriedly at her, he wondered how she was going to gain weight if every time they apparate she got sick.

“You should feel at home then,” Harriet quipped, smirking in the Dark One’s direction. Rumple just glared at her half-heartedly and followed her to the Burrow’s front door. He felt his knee twinge on the uneven cobblestone path and glared at his surroundings.

Rumple tried to hide his nervousness with annoyance, but knew he did a poor job of it.

Deception wasn’t new for him. Centuries worth of deceiving and manipulating had desensitized him. He no longer felt nervous. However, the very idea that he might have to face Albus Dumbledore had his stomach faintly churning and he could feel his palms begin to sweat.

As a student, Dumbledore had always worried him. No matter how charming Tom had been, he always saw right through him. If Dumbledore had been Headmaster then, Rumpelstiltskin knew he would have been locked in Azkaban for killing Myrtle Warren. However, never once had Dumbledore actually scared him. This intense nervousness was unsettling.

Realizing he needed to use Occlumency to gain better control of his emotions, he began to concentrate. As they made their way toward the Weasley’s door, he was startled to find that his nervousness was not his own, but Harriet’s. Peering at her from his peripheral, he saw that despite her churning emotions, she appeared only mildly nervous.

He was both impressed and worried by how well she could mask her emotions. He faintly remembered her saying she wasn’t very good at Occlumency. Yet she seemed to have a natural affinity for separating herself from her own feelings. Which, considering what he knew of Harriet’s life, couldn’t be a good thing.

Swallowing, Rumple made sure to separate his emotions from Harriet’s. Instantly he felt much calmer. There was still worry, but it was faint and easy to dismiss behind his Occlumency shields.

“You cast the spell yet?” Harriet whispered, changing the subject as she knocked on the door.

“Of course I have,” Rumple quickly replied, having cast the spell as they left the apartment. Before he could say another word, the door was abruptly opened and Hermione Granger-Weasley emerged from the house.

As she squealed and pulled Harriet into a hug, Rumple was startled to realize how much taller Hermione was than Harriet. Beauty’s personality always made her seem larger than life. It never occurred to him that she was undersized. In fact, he enjoyed how well they fit. He wasn’t a tall man and she seemed to fit in his arms perfectly. Like she was made for him.

Rumple watched impassively, as Harriet stumbled and gripped onto Hermione’s shoulders. His eyes slowly traveled the length of her body, and his concern grew. Now that she stood next to an average sized woman, it was obvious that Harriet’s height had been stunted. She should be taller.

Did his horcrux do this to her?

Knowing he wasn’t going to get an answer anytime soon, he turned his attention to Hermione. Her brown hair was slightly wavy and pulled back into a tidy bun. Her red sweater and black pants were neatly pressed, and her black shoes were immaculate. The only jewelry she wore were small diamond earrings and her wedding rings. Everything about Hermione spewed efficiency and simplicity.

“You're going to squeeze me to death Monie!” Harriet exclaimed, pulling back slightly from the other witch.

Hermione sniffed, tears in her eyes, “You’re looking better Harry.”

Harriet smiled, “I feel a bit better.”

Hermione nodded and then glanced over Harriet’s shoulder. Tensing, she asked, “And you are?”

“Mrs. Weasley didn’t tell you I was bringing someone?” Harriet asked, surprised.

“She said there might be….” Hermione trailed off and then tried to smile. Carefully she continued, “I just didn’t expect someone so distinguished.”

“Old, you mean,” Rumpelstiltskin corrected with a self-deprecating chuckle. He hated appearing so much older than Harriet. Yet the life he led pre–Dark One had prematurely aged him, making him appear closer to fifty than his actual forty. It had always bothered him, but he supposed looking fifty was much better than looking three hundred.

“I’m not so much older, Mrs. Weasley,” Rumpelstiltskin continued, suppressing a grimace at his own musings.

“Oh?” Hermione asked, clearly embarrassed. She gestured for both of them to come in and then shut the door behind them.

“Yes,” Rumpelstiltskin replied with a smile, surprised to have her so easily flustered. Despite the woman’s obvious shrewdness, she seemed easily embarrassed. Which was something to keep in mind for the future, “Forty isn’t so old, is it?”

“Well, I don't suppose so,” Hermione began but their conversation was abruptly interrupted by prepubescent shrieking.

Two children hurled themselves at Harriet with shrieks of “Aunty”. Causing Rumpelstiltskin to wince slightly due to the octave of their voices. Harriet just laughed and kneeled; holding both children tightly in her arms. She kissed both of their faces numerous times and exclaimed, “Rosie! Hugo! How big you’ve gotten!”

Rumple’s heart clenched at the sight of Harriet embracing the children and he tried to hide how it affected him. The care she took with the children spoke to something inside of Rumplestilskin that longed for tenderness. He vaguely wondered what a child with Harriet’s eyes and his mannerisms would be like. Maybe a little girl he could tell stories to and tuck in at night?

“Awww…..how cute,” The Darkness jeered, “Wanting to be a widdle family.”

Ignoring the Darkness, Rumple watched Harriet and tried to understand why it was so easy to slip into daydreams of late. He had not been this fanciful since courting Milah. What could it mean that Harriet was reawakening this lost part of him?

Or did it mean anything at all?

Either way, they really needed to figure out their connection. He still refused to believe his attraction to her was anything other than a backfire in creating the horcruxes. Surely fate wouldn’t be so cruel as to make him fall for the one woman he couldn’t possibly have.

“Still in denial,” The Darkness sing-songed, “You're becoming too predictable Rumpelstiltskin.”

Shaking his head slightly, he watched as the children giggled and shrieked. Hermione cleared her throat, politely trying to get her children’s attention, when Rumple exclaimed, “My, aren't we excitable?”

The children stopped giggling then and looked at Rumpelstiltskin. Frowning, Rose guardedly asked, “Who are you?”

“Rumplestiltskin Gold,” Rumple replied, kneeling in front of the children. He winced slightly as his knee pinched. Despite having his cane, he was probably going to need help to stand. While that didn’t appeal to him, it would at least promote the idea that he was harmless. Subterfuge on top of subterfuge was always best practice.

Grinning, he reached out and pulled a gallon from Hugo’s ear and a knut from Rose’s. Both children giggled.

“We know how you did that!” Hugo exclaimed.

“I’m sure you do,” Rumple replied in a conspiratorial whisper, but then both children’s money turned into toys, and they gasped in surprise.

“Wow!” Hugo cheered, clutching a little toy broom in his hands.

Rose was studying her fairy doll as she glanced at Rumple and asked, “How’d you do that?”

Rumple just smiled, “Trade secrets I’m afraid dearie.”

Then he reached out with his finger and lightly bumped Rose’s nose. She giggled and playfully batted Rumple’s hand away as he chuckled.

Smiling fondly, Harriet found herself lightly scolding Rumple, “And just how are you going to get up from that position, hummmm?”

Winking at the children, Rumple leaned forward and whispered, “I’m in trouble.”

The children giggled again, hiding their smiles behind their hands so Harriet couldn’t see. Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, Harriet stood and extended her hand to help Rumple up. Using his cane to brace himself, he took her hand and slowly stood, when his knee and ankle suddenly gave out. Quickly, Harriet used her free hand to support his elbow, when Rose reached out and lightly touched Rumple’s knee with her finger. Magic swirled around his leg, acting as a type of brace, and allowed him to fully stand.

Surprised, Rumple scrutinized the little girl in front of him. Glancing at Harriet and her mother, who were safely distracted by Rumple’s near fall, Rose placed her finger to her lips. She then shook her head very slightly.

Before Rumple could even nod in understanding, Hugo grabbed Rose’s hand and started pulling her down the hall, “Come on Rosie! Uncle Charlie and Uncle George will want to see!”

Shrieking in startled surprise, Rose followed Hugo, giving Rumpelstiltskin one last thoughtful look before disappearing.

Chuckling Rumple addressed a startled Hermione, “You have lovely children.”

“Thank you,” Hermione replied, giving Harriet another surprised look. While Hugo never met a stranger, Rose seemed to prefer books to people. To see her so quickly interact with Rumpelstiltskin was surprising.

“They’ve gotten so big,” Harriet said regretfully, “I’ve missed so much!”

“They ask about you all the time,” Hermione said as she led them down the hall and into the kitchen, “I told them you were traveling.”

Harriet pursed her lips and began to desperately gaze around the kitchen. Her eyes were swimming with tears and Harriet knew if Monie saw, she would try and comfort her. She didn’t feel worthy of being comforted.

“If I hadn’t been so weak and pathetic,” Harriet thought, “Then I wouldn’t have missed so much time with the children.”

Making herself focus, Harriet realized that Mrs. Weasley had, once again, overcooked. There were five different cakes, all in Hogwarts colors, and all in various shapes and sizes. There were fruit pies, meat pies and vegetable pies. There were tea cakes and appetizers galore. In the corner Harriet saw several different types of alcohol and what she assumed was a spiked punch. Harriet's hands began to shake as she tore her eyes away from the drinks.

“Everything looks fantastic Mrs. Weasley,” Harriet exclaimed, hoping nobody heard the waver in her voice. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Rumple frown and move to stand between Harriet and the drink table.

Molly smiled proudly and began to reply when a hard voice growled, “What are you doing here?”

Turning around, Harriet found herself confronted by none other than Ron Weasley.

“Your parents invited me,” Harriet quietly replied. She felt Rumple stiffen by her side and her stomach twisted in response. It wouldn’t do for Rumpelstiltskin to confront Ron like he had Remus.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Ron replied snidely.

Gritting her teeth, Molly sharply snapped, “She was invited, Ronald. Leave it alone.”

Ron clenched his jaw and nodded, but then his eyes fell on Rumpelstiltskin, “Who are you?”

“Rumplestiltskin Gold,” Rumple replied with a tilt of his head. Ron frowned and then turned his nose up at the dark wizard. Inwardly, Rumple wanted nothing more than to smack that expression off the redhead's face. The last of the trio seemed to be nothing more than a rude and disrespectful brute that glared at Harriet like he hated her.

“Are you going to be like this all day, Ron?” Harriet asked, already sounding tired. She wanted nothing more than to find a place to sit down and hide.

“I’ll do what I like, Potter,” Ron snarled, taking a step toward Harriet. Frowning, she narrowed her eyes and glared at Ron, reaching out to stop Rumple from advancing.

“Ron,” Hermione said, her voice tight and controlled, “Stop.”

Ron glanced dismissively at Hermione when he saw the children and froze. Their eyes were wide and wet and they were looking between their parents and their aunt. Harriet bit her lip and looked away but Rumple simply watched them. He couldn’t help but be reminded of Bae. The fear and disappointment on their faces mirrored the many looks his boy had given him when his temper had gotten out of control.

Looking at Harriet and then looking at the children, Rumple made a decision. He was not needed here. Harriet was more than able to deal with Ron Weasley and the children didn’t need to see their parents acting idiotic. Rumple’s only concern was the alcohol, but he was sure Mrs. Weasley would call for him should Harriet decide to drink.

“Come with me, dearies,” Rumple said to the children, ignoring Harriet’s surprise.

“Don’t go near…. Ron began but Hermione cut him off.

“Thank you, Mr. Gold,” Hermione said, glaring at Ron. Ron looked away from his wife and glowered at Harriet, seemingly blaming her for Hermione’s displeasure.

Rumple nodded at Hermione and then smiled at Rose and Hugo.

“Why don’t you introduce me to your uncles?” Rumple suggested. The children gave their parents another worried glance before Hugo took Rumple’s free hand and guided him toward the gardens.

“They're out here!” Hugo said excitedly, already forgetting what he’d seen, “They really liked your trick!”

Harriet watched impassively as Rumple winked at her before disappearing outside. The children’s high pitched excitement and Rumple’s soft Scottish brogue lingered for a moment and then the kitchen was quiet.

“If you're going to argue,” Mrs. Weasley said looking at the trio, “Then I suggest going into another room. I’m busy here.”

Harriet and Ron glared at each other before Hermione sighed in frustration and motioned for them to follow her into the sitting room. As soon as the door was closed, Harriet whirled around and snarled, “What the fuck, Ron? In front of the children!”

“You’re not welcome here,” Ron snapped, taking a step toward Harriet. Hermione groaned as she looked between her husband and best friend, hoping things wouldn’t get physical.

“The last time I checked,” Harriet sneered, “You didn’t live here Ron, unless of course Hermione threw you out…again!”

“Fuck you Potter!” Ron snarled, drawing his wand, but he was too slow for Harriet. Before Ron could cast one spell, his wand was in Harriet’s hand.

Hermione’s jaw dropped, "Since when can you do wandless magic?”

“I may be a drunk,” Harriet hissed, her eyes narrowed and faintly glowing, “But that doesn’t mean I’m weak.”

Ron swallowed and took a step back. He could feel the hairs on the back of his arms stand on end and he found himself unnerved. Harriet’s eyes were faintly glowing, and he could feel power coiling around her. Since when was Harriet so…..frightening?

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip and glanced from her husband to her best friend. Since when did Harriet become so powerful? What could have happened during their estrangement to cause this? Growling, Harriet took a threatening step forward causing Ron to take another step back. Hermione quickly stepped in between them, unable to allow her friend to hurt her husband.

“Please,” Hermione said to Harriet and then she turned to Ron, “Stop acting like a prat, Ronald.”

Ron said nothing, his eyes never leaving Harriet’s. He had often wondered over the years why they had ever become friends. They were constantly fussing and fighting, often almost coming to curses and blows. Their estrangement in fourth year had created a strain in their friendship. He hadn’t noticed then; being young, dumb and sure that Harry could forgive him anything. However, over time it had become obvious. There was a part of herself that Harriet stopped allowing him to see. It wasn’t until she stood toe to toe with Lord Voldemort and won that he realized just how much she had hidden from everyone.

After the war, Harriet had been his hero. He was proud to call her his best friend. Proud when she stood as his best mate and Monie’s maid of honor. He had been proud right up until it became clear just how much of a drinking problem Harriet had. After that, he felt betrayed.

It wasn’t right. He knew that. While they all had been through traumatic events growing up, Harriet had the additional issue of dealing with the Dursley’s. She didn’t have much guidance in her life, despite being the “Chosen One” and it often felt to Ron that people tended to give her a harder time than they should. It was a startling revelation to discover that he was one of those people.

Ron’s rage fizzled out and he sighed deeply as his shoulders slumped. He looked away from Hermione and muttered, “I know.”

“Then fix it,” Hermione snapped, looking between Harriet and Ron, “For good this time.”

Harriet watched Ron and Hermione impassively. She loved them very much, but she knew she couldn’t count on them. Not really. Not about the stuff that mattered.

“Don’t bother,” Harriet snarled, glaring at Ron and Hermione. She turned from them to hide the tears swimming in her eyes, “I love you two like family, but I’m not sure you love me like that in return.”

“Of course we do!” Hermione exclaimed, near tears. For too long, she had let Ron dictate how she interacted with Harriet. No longer would she allow him to call the shots. She didn’t want to fight with him, it wasn’t fair for their children to hear them constantly arguing, but she knew that Ron was wrong. That she was wrong for condoning her husband’s poor attitude.

“Really?” Harriet sneered in disgust. She looked at Hermione in contempt, “Then where have you been, Monie?”

“I….” Hermione began but then she just sighed. She looked away from Harriet and out the window. Realizing it was useless to make excuses she muttered, “I wasn’t where I was supposed to be.”

“And where was that, dearie?” Harriet sneered, rolling her eyes. She refused to acknowledge just how easy it was for her to adopt Rumple’s speech patterns. It had only been a few days since she had allowed him into her life, and she already found herself changing in response to his presence.

“By your side,” Hermione replied tearfully, looking at Harriet over her shoulder.

Harriet said nothing. She just watched as Hermione sniffed and took a handkerchief from her pocket. Ron reached for Hermione and lay his hand on her shoulder. In turn, Hermione put her hand on Ron’s own and held it.

“We never should have left you,” Ron said quietly. Both looked remorseful and Harriet wanted to believe them, but she had been hurt too many times not to be weary.

Glancing between the two, the tension left Harriet’s body and she slouched forward. She didn’t want to be mad at them anymore, but she worried it wasn’t a good idea to get close to them again. They would turn on her if they discovered what she was hiding and Harriet would be broken hearted again.

Still, she missed her family.

Harriet looked away from the couple and crossed her arms, “I needed you; you weren’t there, and it messed me up.”

Ron and Hermione looked ashamed but didn’t interrupt. Swallowing Harriet continued, “But, I wasn’t easy to be around. So, let’s just look past it.”

“Really?” Ron asked, surprised.

Harriet sighed and nodded, “Really.”

In the end it all boiled down to one thing, if she could learn to forgive Rumpelstiltskin; how could she not extend the same courtesy to her own family?

Rumple smiled as Charlie and George described their joke shop.

“How haven’t you been there?” George exclaimed, a mischievous grin on his face, “You can’t miss it on Diagon Alley.”

“I don’t go often into the wizarding world,” Rumple replied carefully.

“Really?” Charlie asked, fascinated, “That seems….well….odd.”

“It is,” Rumple confirmed, smiling. He genuinely liked George and Charlie and hated to lie to them, “But I’m not fond of large crowds.” At least that wasn’t a lie

“Not even once? In twelve years?” George asked, he seemed unconvinced.

“Not once,” Rumple confirmed with a wry grin, “I tend to order anything I might need.”

“You’re basically a shut- in!” George exclaimed while Charlie rolled his eyes. Rumple chuckled, “The world is much larger than magical Britain lads. There is plenty to do without being bothered by a bunch of stuffy wizards.”

Charlie laughed while George just shook his head, confused as to how Rumple could cut himself off so completely from the wizarding world. Rumple, for his part, found himself amused by George’s obvious horror.

Still grinning, Rumple scanned the yard for what felt like the hundredth time. While he knew the trio had needed time to hash out their differences, he was still worried that Harriet would go for the alcohol.

He was about to head back into the kitchen and guard the drink table when Harriet finally appeared outside. He sighed in relief when she scanned the crowd and quickly walked toward him. He could see how tired she was and hoped that the reunion wouldn’t last too long.

Glancing down at the children, he smiled as they played. Rose was leaning on his good leg and dressing her doll in various conjured dresses, while Hugo was concentrating on moving his broom through the air without touching it.

Hermione and Ron followed Harriet outside and began to look for their children when both parents froze, their surprise obvious.

“Rose?” Hermione exclaimed, getting a hold of herself and walking over to her children, “Hugo?”

“Yes momma?” They chorused. Rose bit her lip in worry.

“I…..,” Hermione started, but stopped. She wasn’t sure what to say about Hugo’s blatant use of wandless magic or Rose's obvious preference for Rumpelstiltskin.

Seeing his wife flounder Ron asked, “Are they bothering you?”

“Of course not,” Rumple said, gently patting Rose’s head and giving Hugo a genuine smile. Both children beamed back at Rumpelstiltskin and then went back to playing with their toys.

“Where did all the dresses come from?” Harriet asked, kneeling next to Rose. The gowns were small, but exquisitely made. The blue and red dresses were vivid and deep with a light sparkle while the green and yellow dresses shimmered in the light.

“Uncle Rum showed me how,” Rose said as she plucked a blade of grass that suddenly turned into a bright green dress.

“I wish I had some purple though,” Rose continued thoughtfully, as Harriet stared at her; shocked both by the honorific and how easy Rose used wandless magic, “But we don’t have purple flowers and Uncle Rum said the colors had to match.”

“Uncle?” Rumple muttered in shock. His voice shook and he felt both touched and afraid at how quickly the children had taken to him.

“Duh,” Rose said, looking at Harriet and Rumple like they had two heads. Meanwhile Charlie and George were trying to suppress their laughter and Hermione and Ron were stunned.

“You’re our aunty,” Hugo said with a giggle, then pointing at Rumple he said, “And he’s, our uncle.”

Rumple’s eyes widened even further, and he opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. The children thought they were married!

Rumple looked at Harriet in panic while she continued to help Rose dress her doll. Smiling at the little girl, she asked gently, “Do you think Rumple and I are married?”

“Yeah!” Rose said with a smile, “That’s why you were traveling, wasn’t it? A wedding trip?”

Harriet had no idea what to say. Rose seemed to have created an entire relationship up in her mind and Harriet was loath to dissuade her. She knew the little girl didn’t feel comfortable around very many people, but Harriet wasn’t sure getting attached to Rumpelstiltskin was a good idea given their circumstances.

Smiling sadly, Rumple made the decision for her, “I’m afraid not lass.”

“Why?” Rose asked, her smile turning into a deep frown.

“Your aunty and I are just friends,” Rumple replied, forcing a smile.

Rose crossed her arms and pouted while Hugo looked confused. Both had been so sure that Rumpelstiltskin was their new uncle. Why else would Aunty bring him?

Embarrassed and flustered, Rumple cleared his throat and said, “I think your parents want you.”

Rose sighed as she watched her parents gawk at them in bemused horror. Lifting her eyebrow, she rolled her eyes at Rumpelstiltskin and said, “We know you want us to leave, Uncle Rum.”

“I don't….,” Rumple began to say, but Rose hugged his leg and then both children scampered off, clearly unoffended.

“Well, that happened,” Harriet muttered, gathering the small dresses and trying not to blush.

“Yes,” Rumple replied, his throat tight and dry. Nervous, he said rather forcefully, “I’m going to get something to drink. Would you like anything?”

“Just pumpkin juice,” Harriet replied quietly. She could tell that Rumple was upset and she wasn’t sure how to take it. Did he miss Belle? Was he disgusted at the thought of being married to her? Or was he just embarrassed?

Her shoulders slumped as she watched Rumple quickly disappear into the kitchen. He seemed so upset at the thought of their union that Harriet couldn't help but feel insulted. Mind drifting back to the alcohol table, she forced herself to focus on her task; despite her suddenly shaking hands.

“I’m sorry Harry,” Hermione said once Rumple was out of earshot. She then knelt beside her friend and began helping her.

“Oh, it’s fine,” Harriet replied brightly, forcing a smile on her face. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Hermione frown.

“He seems upset,” Ron commented quietly.

Harriet sighed and looked back toward the kitchen, “He may be getting a divorce. It’s hard on him.”

“Oh?” Hermione asked, surprised, “He’s married?”

“Yeah,” Harriet confirmed, looking at Hermione, “Why?”

“Well…..” Hermione began but Ron replied, “We thought he was your boyfriend.”

“Why does everyone keep thinking that?” Harriet muttered to herself as she handed Hermione the last of the dresses and stood.

“Doesn’t help he lives with you,” Remus growled from behind them. Harriet closed her eyes and turned, giving Remus a weary glare.

“He’s a friend,” Harriet bit out, “I’m helping him.”

“You only just met him,” Remus sneered, “And he lives with you?”

“Look up the definition of the word friend,” Harriet replied, gritting her teeth in frustration, “You might learn something.”

“I know what a friend is, Harriet,” Remus replied snidely, “But friends don’t follow friends around like a bitch in heat.”

Hermione gasped and Ron yelled “oi”, while Harriet just rolled her eyes. If he wanted to hurt her feelings, he was going to have to do better than that. She was about to laugh at Remus when Rumpelstiltskin suddenly appeared behind him.

“Apologize to her, wolf,'' Rumpelstiltskin snarled. Eyes wide, Harriet watched as he tightened his hold on the goblet of pumpkin juice and glared at Remus. His eyes were slowly turning from brown to amber and his skin began to take on a faint sparkle. She could feel a growing rage at the back of her mind, and she knew Rumpelstiltskin was moments from losing his temper and thrashing Remus.

“Let’s go inside, Rum,” Harriet said softly. Quickly stepping between the two wizards. She took the goblet before it could shatter and placed her hand on Rumple’s chest, right above his heart. She could feel the eyes of the Order on them.

So much for lying low.

“I would rather not,” Rumple’s voice was becoming disconcertedly high pitched. His eyes were trained on Remus, who had taken a step back, surprised by how quickly Rumple lost his temper. Harriet knew she had to get him away from Remus. It would be disastrous if he changed into the Dark One in front of the entire Order of Phoenix.

“I would rather that you did,” Harriet replied, her voice hard and commanding. Rumple tore his eyes from Remus and locked onto Harriet’s own.

“Is that a command,” Rumple whispered in parseltongue.

“A request,” Harriet hissed, trying to keep her own temper in check. Her head pounded faintly and she was beginning to feel his rage pool in her stomach. Gritting her teeth she refused to allow herself to become compelled by Rumple’s emotions.

“You're going to get us caught,” She hissed in parseltongue, a little louder than she intended. From the corner of her eye, she could see Hermione cock her head and frown. Ron’s eyes widened and he looked between her and Rumple frantically.

Growling, Rumple shot Remus one last death glare before he jerkily turned and hobbled into the house. She watched as his hands clenched and unclenched. Even from this distance she could feel his anger.

Furious with Remus, Harriet threw the pumpkin juice in his face and growled, “Stop trying to piss him off!”

Remus began to retort, wiping his face with his shirt sleeve, when Ron interrupted, “Shut-up, Remus!”

Harriet glared at Remus one last time before she followed Rumple into the house, determined to get them out of the Burrow as soon as possible. However, when she stomped into the kitchen Rumple wasn’t there.

Licking her lips, she glanced at the alcohol table longingly before she shook herself and focused on the task. She put the empty goblet on the counter and glanced around the room, wondering where Rumple could have gone.

“He’s in the sitting room dear,” Mrs. Weasley said with a frown, “He seems upset about something.”

“Thank you Mrs. Weasley,” Harriet muttered as she hurried after him.

She quickly locked the door behind her and placed a silencing charm around the room. She watched Rumple pace for a moment before she hissed in parseltongue, “We need to get out of here!”

Rumple stopped and glanced at Harriet. His anger was still too close to the surface. It shouldn’t have been so easy to goad him. Not after what happened between him and Harriet earlier in the day. Yet here he was angry again and embarrassed by his own lack of control.

“The wolf started it,” Rumple hissed defensively.

“I know,” Harriet soothed, switching back to English, “But you almost turned into the Dark One and Ron and Hermione heard us speak parseltongue. We need to make our excuses and get out of here.”

“Oh god,” Rumple replied, sinking into the armchair nearest the fireplace. He put his head in his hands, angry at himself for losing his temper.

“Rum,” Harriet whispered as she knelt in front of Rumple, “It’s going to be alright.”

“Is it?” Rumple whispered, “I can’t seem to control my temper, Beauty.”

Harriet sighed and began to reach for Rumple, when the door to the sitting area was violently blown open. Rumple promptly stood, a fireball in his hand, while Harriet gracefully spun on her knee, wand at the ready. She slowly stood as Albus and Severus cautiously walked into the room. Both had grim expressions on their faces.

“Put the wand down, Potter,” Severus snapped, his eyes scanning the room.

“We are sorry for the interruption,” Dumbledore said tightly. Noticing Rumple’s fireball, Albus hid his surprise and remarked, “I must say, it’s impressive to see magic as strong as yours.”

Rumple felt the Darkness inside him squirm, but he clamped hard on his emotions. It wouldn't do for Harriet’s scar to hurt in the wizard's presence. If they were going to remain under the radar, something that was beginning to look extremely unlikely, then they were going to have to be careful.

Dispelling his fireball, he took a small step closer to Harriet, who had lowered her own wand. Smirking, he asked, “To what do I owe the pleasure, Professor Dumbledore?”

Albus smiled thinly and cocked his head to the side, his glasses glinting in the light. Swallowing, Rumple began to feel uneasy. He had forgotten that Albus wore glasses and if the Headmaster had the foresight to place a dispelling charm on them…..they were fucked.

“We saw the…unfortunate spectacle with the wolf,” Severus sneered, “We were rather surprised at the…..language use.”

Harriet sighed and rubbed her eyes, “Get to the point Severus.”

“We have only ever heard the Dark Lord use parseltongue,” Severus replied stiffly.

Harriet sniffed and rolled her eyes, “And me.”

“You shouldn’t still be able to,” Albus replied, giving Harriet an evaluating look.

“Or maybe it’s more common than people think,” Harriet sneered, sarcasm dripping from her voice, “I’m a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, too.”

Not lowering himself to retort, Albus ignored Harriet and turned to Rumpelstiltskin. Smiling politely he said, “I believe you have me at a disadvantage.”

Rumple said nothing for a moment, instead allowing his eyes to take in Albus and Severus’ body language. Both wizards were tense and distrustful. He wasn’t sure they knew who he was, but he was sure they suspected him of something. He would have to tread carefully.

Of course, he refused to act cowed. Keeping his smirk in place, Rumple took a step forward and said with a flourish and the tiniest of bows, “I’m Rumpelstiltskin Gold.”

“I tend to never forget a face,” Albus replied as he too took a step forward, his eyes narrowing, “And you remind me of someone.”

“Do I?” Rumple asked, placing his hand on his chest. He forced himself to remain relaxed and nonchalant, but inside he felt uneasy.

“Yes,” Albus replied surveying Rumpelstiltskin’s reaction, “The resemblance is uncanny.”

Harriet glanced between Albus and Rumple while keeping Severus in her peripheral. Her mind whirled and twisted trying to come up with a believable lie. She was fighting her own panic and was beginning to feel Rumple’s as well. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

“And who might that be?” Rumple innocently asked. He made sure to keep his smirk in place and his head cocked to one side.

“His name was Tom Riddle,” Albus calmly replied, evaluating Rumple for the tiniest of reactions.

Rumple began to respond when Harriet sighed in defeat and said rather glumly, “Yes.”

It was obvious that Albus could see through Rumple’s glamor, but it was also clear to her that he seemed confused. If he really thought Rumple was Voldemort, he would have already attacked. In the Headmaster’s uncertainty, lay their salvation.

Albus’ smile dropped, and his voice hardened, “Yes?”

“Yes,” Rumple confirmed. He was unsure what plan Harriet had devised, but he’d promised to follow her lead. No matter how uncomfortable it made him.

“What does that mean?” Albus asked, his eyes still lingering on Harriet.

“It’s to be expected,” Harriet replied, doing her best to appear more annoyed than worried.

“Why would it be expected?” Severus asked exasperated.

A bolt of understanding shot through Rumpelstiltskin and he found himself startled by how ingenious the new plan was. Not only would it explain his appearance, but it would also explain why he never attended Hogwarts.

Trying to appear nonchalant, Rumple drawled, “Because he was my father.”

Albus’ eyes widened, and Severus’ jaw dropped causing Rumple to cock his eyebrow in amusement. He could feel Harriet’s panic at the lie they concocted, but she just crossed her arms and did her best to look bored. Rumple suppressed a smile; she really was the perfect partner in crime.

“We could have gone far, with her at our side,” The Darkness whispered, and Rumple was forced to agree.

“Your father?” Albus whispered, taking a step away from Rumpelstiltskin. He watched as Rumple unconsciously leaned toward Harriet, in what Albus assumed was some form of comfort.

“Get away from her!” Remus growled from the doorway. Hermione and Ron were standing behind Remus, gawking at Rumple and Harriet.

“Make me,” Rumple snarled, his anger flaring at the wolf's entrance. Harriet reached out and stopped Rumple from taking a step toward Remus.

“Rumplestilsin,” Harriet snapped, “Stop!”

Turning slightly to glare at Harriet, Rumple snarled, “You do something about him or I will.”

Harriet glared at Rumple but nodded. It was only fair since Remus seemed set on antagonizing him. The fact that Rumple was allowing her to step in at all, showed how much he deferred to her. It was heartwarming, in a weird dark wizard sort of way.

“Okay,” Hermione said, quickly shaking off her shock and bustling into the room. She had her wand out, as did Ron, and she individually looked at everyone in the room, “Let’s all just calm down.”

“Calm down?” Severus snapped, pointing at Rumple, “He is the son of the Dark Lord.”

“Yes,” Hermione said, coming to stand between Severus and Harriet, “But that doesn’t mean he has done anything illegal. Having an unfortunate parent doesn’t make one responsible for their crimes.

“But it does make one wonder where he was during the war,” Severus sneered, his voice ugly and accusatory.

Rumple said nothing in response. He didn’t want to reveal too much knowledge about his time as Tom Riddle and not have their lie be believed, but he also didn’t want them to become suspicious of his lack of knowledge either. Lying was a delicate balance, something he didn’t usually like to do. His recent lies to Emma and Belle notwithstanding, it just wasn’t his style.

“That makes no sense,” Albus thundered, his face impassive. He took a threatening step toward Rumple, “I would rather you didn’t lie to us.”

“And why would you think we’re lying?” Rumple asked, confusion lacing his voice. Albus hadn’t bought it? It had been such an elegant lie.

“Enough!” Albus thundered, making Rumple’s teeth grind. Harriet stiffened next to him and gripped her wand tightly in her hand, “Speak plainly!”

“I don’t do well with orders,” Rumple growled. Harriet could feel his anger through the connection and before she could even attempt to calm him, he changed. Hermione gasped and drew her wand while Ron stepped in front of Hermione to protect her, his wand already raised. Albus, Severus, and Remus all stood in an arc with their wands pointed directly at Rumple’s heart.

Harriet turned and glared at the Dark One, “You just couldn’t hold on, could you?”

“Apparently not dearie,” Rumpelstiltskin drawled, frustrated by his own temper. How was it that Albus could still irritate him so? It was a weakness that was jeopardizing their safety.

“What in God’s name,” Albus whispered, his voice filled with horror. His eyes traveled across Rumple’s body; taking in the black, scaly pantsuit with the emerald green undershirt, the crocodile-like amber eyes, the wild kinking hair, and the shimmering skin.

Harriet made sure to stand directly between Rumple and Albus, "Put the wands down,” Harriet ordered, "You act as if you’ve never seen a magical being before.”

Nobody moved, making Harriet grind her teeth in frustration. She felt Rumple slip his hand into the back of her sweater and grip the fabric, ready to disappear on a moment's notice. However, Harriet didn’t think that was a good idea. Not only did they need guidance in regard to their connection and Rumple’s rebirth, but they also needed to understand the heart attacks. There was something unnatural about them and they only seemed to worsen as time passed.

Knowing everything needed to be explained, she sighed and said. “Maybe we should just take it from the top.”

“From the top?” Remus shouted. Harriet just ignored him and looked at Rumple. Their eyes locked and he heard her whisper in his mind, “We have to tell them.”

Rumple just sighed. They weren’t going to get out of this by lying. It seemed the truth was the only way. Feeling a migraine coming on, Rumple twitched his fingers and both Remus and Severus swayed.

Glancing at the two men, Rumple sneered, “Why don’t you sit, dearies.”

Remus sat, startled at the memories that were clicking into place, but Severus kept his feet. Glaring at Harriet he snarled, “You had him take my memories!”

“Yes,” Harriet said matter-of-factly, “I did.”

“Why?” Severus snarled.

Harriet pursed her lips “You were hysterical. It seemed like the thing to do at the time.”

“And the Dark Mark?” Severus growled, pulling his sleeve up, “Where is it?”

“I destroyed it,” Rumple replied quietly. Glancing at his former spy he said, “No sense in having you branded, Severus. You're not cattle.”

Severus jerked his head back in surprise.

“Wait…..” Hermione said as she looked between Harriet, Severus, and Rumple, “What is happening?”

Harriet looked at her friends and smiled sadly. Quietly she said, “We lied, Monie. We were hoping to avoid this confrontation but…..well….. Rumple isn’t Lord Voldemort’s son…….he’s Lord Voldemort.”

Hermione and Ron stared at her in open mouthed horror and Harriet felt her heart break once again. She should have known better than to try and repair what couldn’t be fixed.

“Voldemort isn’t back,” Rumple announced, startling everyone in the room, “I’m not here to try and take over wizarding Britain or to get revenge.” He swallowed then, “I would much prefer that I wasn’t here……that I wasn’t……” He stopped then and closed his eyes. The migraine was starting to worsen. He pushed the heel of his hand against his eyes and winced.

“I’m not who I once was,” Rumple finally said, pulling his hand away to survey the room. Remus looked ready to fight, Severus seemed weary, Ron and Hermione were clutching each other’s hands, and Albus looked ill at ease.

Harriet, however, leaned closer to him. Her body language indicated that she was ready to flee. He knew with Harriet by his side, they had a good chance of disappearing. Yet, he didn’t want to run. They had made a cozy little space in Harriet’s apartment. Kreacher would have to be abandoned and that would break the old elf’s heart. Not to mention what the children would think. He would prefer they didn’t believe him to be a monster. Without realizing it, Rumple had started to put down roots and he was loath to pull them back up.

“And you think you should be allowed to run free?” Severus sneered, “After what you have done?”

“I honestly don’t care about your sense of justice,” Rumple replied with a sneer of his own, “I died, Severus. D.I.E.D. What more can I do?”

“Cutting out your heart would be a start,” Remus growled looking from Harriet to Rumple, “Your war cost me my wife. Now you’ve come back to take my…..”

“Do NOT finish that sentence, ” Harriet commanded, catching Remus off guard, “Nobody can take what you never wanted.”

Remus winced in embarrassment. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her. He did, very much. Yet, he had never been comfortable with his feelings for her, despite what he said about her drinking and his wolf’s possessive nature. Those were just excuses for what really bothered him. Their shared past.

He had been there when Harriet was born. He had held her when she was barely a day old. He had pledged to Lily that he would keep her safe and swore to James that he would help her grow into a strong young witch. He had been her professor. He was too old for her and too interwoven into her childhood to truly be with her. Yet, he found himself incredibly jealous at how obviously attracted she was to Rumpelstiltskin.

The Dark Lord. The monster that had killed her parents. His best friends.

Harriet just sighed as she watched Remus’ jaw clench. She should have known that he wouldn’t admit defeat so easily. She couldn’t understand when he had become so stubborn and ridiculous.

“Look,” Ron said slowly, taking a step out of the corner “Can we all go back to the fact that Harriet has been living with Lord Voldemort.”

“Rumplestilskin,” Harriet and Rumple corrected at the same time.

“Either way,” Ron said carefully, much more carefully then he normally would have. He didn’t want to alienate Harriet again. He was sure loneliness and heartache had pushed her over the edge to crazy land. He just needed to get her to realize that, "Don’t you think that’s a little crazy, considering everything?”

“I,” Harriet began but stopped. She knew that it was. She understood it perfectly well, and yet, “It’s complicated Ron.”

“Apparently,” Hermione sarcastically replied, trying to keep her churning emotions at bay.

The room quieted and some of the tension lessoned. Knowing the others would feel more comfortable if Rumple looked human again, Harriet reached out and took Rumple’s hand. She began tracing the scales on his palm when Rumple closed his eyes and allowed her actions to calm him. He suddenly swayed, changing instantly from the Dark One to his human form.

“That gets easier each time,” Rumple muttered as he leaned heavily on his cane, “I’m not in love with that.”

“I know Rum,” Harriet said, looking at him worriedly. His face had drained of all color, and he was leaning too heavily on the cane. His face suddenly twisted in pain.

“Rum?” Harriet asked, her voice shaken.

Rumple looked at Harriet with frightened eyes and clutched his heart. His knees folded out from under him and he fell to his side. He instantly curled into himself and whimpered.

“Shit,” Harriet whispered as she kneeled beside him. Not another one? So soon?

“Rum,” Harriet said, trying to get his attention, “What’s happening?”

Whimpering, Rumple tried to reach out to Harriet. He tried to speak, but then he yelled in agony, passed out, and abruptly stopped breathing.

It became deathly silent in the room. Nobody moved. They barely even breathed. Harriet’s heart was in her throat as she reached out with shaking fingers to check Rumple’s pulse.

There wasn’t one.

“Oh hell no!” Harriet shouted as she pulled Rumple onto his back, ripped his shirt open, and started chest compressions, “If you think for one second your dying right now, you mother fucker, you got another thing coming!”

She felt wild fury strike her, followed quickly by grief. She knew that Rumple couldn’t die by normal means, but the heart attacks were far from normal and she wasn’t sure they wouldn't prove fatal.

“Breathe Rum!” Harriet yelled wildly as she stopped her chest compressions to breathe into his mouth. She found it insanely unfair that this was the closest to kissing him she was ever going to get. Pulling back she waited. When nothing happened she began chest compressions again. She felt his ribs crack and she winced but didn’t stop.

“Harriet,” Albus said quietly, placing his hand on her shoulder, “I think he’s gone.”

“No,” Harriet snarled, while keeping the chest compressions going, “He isn’t. He’s immortal! He can’t die.”

“Then why are you doing CPR?” Hermione asked gently as she reached out to stop her friend. Harriet sniffed and pulled away, bolting to her feet.

She stared at Rumple’s twisted body; his face slack and his shirt ripped open. It was such a sad end for a larger-than-life man. A heart attack? She had watched him shoot himself in the head and still live.

What was the difference?

“How?” Harriet asked, tears in her throat, “I don’t understand? He tried everything to kill himself.”

“I…..” Albus began but found himself startled by Harriet’s words. He tried to kill himself? Why? Clearing his throat he continued, “I will have to consult the book, but I think I know what happened.”

“What?” Harriet demanded. She clenched her fists and was ready to start pummeling Albus for information when sudden pain emanated from her scar. She screamed and fell to her knees beside Rumplestilskin. Albus leaned forward to see what was happening when he noticed blood seeping through her fingers.

“We aren't dead yet Beauty,” The Darkness hissed in her mind.

Harriet cried both in relief and pain as she fell to her side and closed her eyes. She curled into a ball, aware that she was about to pass out, when she heard Rumple’s panicked voice call for her. She tried to open her eyes but found herself drifting off into darkness.

“Beauty!” Rumple exclaimed as he bolted upright. Ignoring his bad leg, he crawled onto his knees and pulled her toward him. He checked her pulse, afraid that he had somehow passed his death onto her, and sagged in relief.

She was alive.

“What the hell happened?” Ron snarled at the dark wizard, his wand raised. Rumple just shook his head and looked up at the people that surrounded him.

“We don’t know,” Rumple replied, his voice shaking as he glanced from person to person, anguish in his eyes, “We don’t know how I’m alive, we don’t know why we're still connected, and we certainly don’t know why I’m having these heart attacks.”

“That’s a lot you don’t know,” Hermione replied impassively.

Rumple just laughed mirthlessly, “The information we need is at Hogwarts. Isn’t that right Albus? Or did you misspeak?

“How did you hear that?” Albus asked, dread in his voice, “You were dead.”

“I’m immortal, Albus,” Rumple hissed, his eyes once again taking on an amber cast, “A paltry heart attack isn’t going to keep me dead for long.”

Albus watched in growing horror, as Rumple tenderly brushed Harriet’s hair out of her face and said softly, “But it might kill her. We can feel each other’s emotions. We can even manipulate them to a certain extent. It isn’t out of the realm of possibility that she could start having these heart attacks too…..”

Looking up at Albus he said, “If you want to help her. To finally do right by her, then I suggest you work with us.”

Albus said nothing, he just pursed his lips, deep in thought. Shaking his head Rumple chuckled darkly, “You and I are too much alike, Albus. Always looking at every possible angle. Always trying to think five steps ahead of everyone else. Anything to make sure we come out on top.”

Looking at the Headmaster he sadly asked, “It makes for a lonely life, doesn’t it?”

Albus began to deny Rumple’s observations but found he couldn’t muster up the required outrage. He was right.

“Take her home,” Albus replied quietly, turning away and walking toward the sitting room door, “I’ll contact you when I find something.”

“Headmaster!” Sevuers called after him, glancing between Albus and Rumple, “You’re just going to allow the Dark Lord to leave with Potter?”

“Yes,” Albus replied, surveying the room, “And so are the rest of you.”

Ron and Hermione just shared a look. They were not going to leave Harriet alone with a madman. They had failed her too many times for them to abandon her now. Rumple seemed to understand their silent conversation because he found himself asking, “Could you follow us to Grimmauld Place?’

“What?” Hermione asked, unsure that she had heard correctly.

“Would you follow us?” Rumple asked, gently picking Harriet up in his arms, “It will do her some good to see you after everything that has happened.”

“I…..” Ron began but then sighed in defeat, “We’ll be there.”

Rumple nodded and quickly apparated back to Harriet’s apartment. Things had not gone the way they had originally planned but Rumple hoped telling the truth would be worth it. He didn’t have the best luck with doing the right thing, but Harriet had. Maybe some of her luck would rub off on him.

Storybrooke

Henry was wide awake, staring at his ceiling in his grandparent’s apartment. There were still too many people for this small apartment to be completely comfortable, but Henry wasn’t too bothered by it. Now that he knew where his Grandpapa was, and with whom, he could distract himself by making more plans.

He still couldn’t understand how his Grandpapa could possibly be Lord Voldemort, but for now he wasn’t going to worry about that. Instead, he knew he needed to focus on what was happening in Storybrooke. Micheal didn’t want Rumple back until he accepted Harriet as the Guardian, but Henry knew that was a mistake.

After being yelled at by both Regina and Emma for skipping school, they had sent him to his room. Thinking that he couldn’t hear them, Emma and David began arguing about the increasing violence in Storybrooke. Emma had declared Rumplestilskin at fault and that the Spell of Shattered Sight wasn’t fully broken. David however, had been opposed to that idea. He firmly believed that the town's problems were the result of the Dark Curse. People could only be transported back and forth from one world to the next for so long before something bad happened. Emma refused to listen.

For some time now, Emma had been content to blame Rumplestilskin for all the town’s problems. Now that he was gone, she still didn’t see a reason to stop blaming him. Henry knew that Regina found the idea attractive. After all, if the problems were due to Rumplestilskin and the Ice Queen, then nobody could blame her. He was under no delusions when it came to his mothers.

“It’s all so pointless,” Henry thought as he turned over. They needed someone here that knew magic. While Micheal was a great source of information, he didn’t seem to have Rumplestilskin’s innate knowledge of the arcane arts. If there really was a spell that was causing problems, Rumplestilskin would be able to discover it.

Frowning, Henry slipped out of bed and looked for his pants. Pulling a business card out of the pocket, he turned on his desk light and stared at it. He had found it not long after Archie had dropped him off. He thought it was from Micheal at first, but then he looked at it more closely. The number on the card was in baroque style writing with a graphic of a pendulum clock in the right hand corner.

Henry found himself slowly smiling. He didn’t need Michael's permission to let Rumpelstiltskin back into Storybrooke. He didn’t need Archie to help him steal the dagger or even Ruby’s support. If Henry was right about who’s number this was, then Rumplestilskin would be back in Storybrooke long before anybody else in their group noticed.

Chapter Text

London

As soon as Rumple apparated back into Harriet’s apartment, Kreacher flew into action. Ushering Rumple into her room, he motioned for the dark wizard to place Harriet on the bed. Seeing the devastation on his face, Kreacher tried to be kind. Over the last few days, he had noticed a bond forming between the dark wizard and his mistress and he was loath to inflict pain where it would do no good. While he was still leery of Rumplestilskin, Kreacher could admit that having him around was beneficial for his mistress. What did he care for wizard politics as long as his mistress was happy?

He hadn’t forgotten what the Dark Lord had done to his Master Regulus. Yet, the differences between the Dark Lord and the Dark One were stark, something that Kreacher was still puzzling through. He knew he didn’t understand, so he refused to pass judgment until he did.

Kreacher watched as Rumple gently placed Harriet on the bed and reluctantly exited the room. Closing the door, Kreacher set to work cleaning the blood off Harriet’s forehead and hands. He changed her clothing and made sure the scars on her wrist didn’t show. He knew she would be mortified if anyone saw them. He fussed and moved her pillows so she would be more comfortable and finally covered her with blankets. Satisfied, Kreacher opened the door to call for Rumplestilskin when he noticed Ron and Hermione standing in the living room, looking uncomfortable.

Seeing the door open, Rumple lurched to his feet and quickly entered the room. While Kreacher was attending to Harriet, Rumple had taken off his suit coat, fixed his shirt, and rolled up his sleeves. He still felt unkempt, but refused to leave her side until he knew Harriet would wake up. Looking at her face, he sighed in relief. While she still looked drained, she didn’t look nearly as close to death’s door.

“Thank you Kreacher,” Rumple muttered as he conjured a folding chair and sat next to Harriet's bed, taking her hand in both of his. Hermione and Ron looked at each other and frowned. Neither wanted the dark wizard there and would have preferred if Kreacher had thrown him out. However, Kreacher only nodded his head and went into the kitchenette. He began cleaning furiously his worry for his mistress apparent.

Coming to stand at the end of Harriet’s bed, Hermione crossed her arms and glowered at Rumpelstiltskin. It wasn’t right that he was allowed to stay. Not when HE was the reason for Harriet’s collapse.

“You should leave,” Hermione snapped, becoming more furious with the dark wizard as she noticed how devastated he appeared. What right did he have to feel pain? To care? Ron approached Hermione from behind and began rubbing her shoulders, hoping to sooth her before she became too upset. He wasn't happy with Harriet’s new “friendship” but he didn’t think it was the appropriate time to start yelling at the dark wizard.

“That’s not gonna happen dearie,” Rumple replied, refusing to look away from Harriet. He didn’t understand why she hadn’t awoken yet and he was afraid to leave her. The particulars of their connection were still largely unknown and anything could happen while he was gone.

“I said leave!” Hermione thundered, as she pulled her wand. Lazily, Rumple moved his hand in a slight arc, making the wand disappear from her hand and reappear into his. Looking at it dismissively, Rumple flicked his wrist and banished it.

Hermione stilled and swallowed hard, fear coursing through her. On instinct, Ron began to pull his own wand, which he too lost to Rumpelstiltskin.

“You will get your wands back when you leave,” Rumpelstiltskin replied, glaring between Ron and Hermione, “For now, you stay here and wait until Harriet wakes up.”

Hermione wanted to argue, determined to put the dark wizard in his place, when two folding chairs appeared on the opposite side of Harriet’s bed.

“Have a seat,” Rumpelstiltskin said forcefully, gesturing for them to sit. Knowing they had no other choice, they sat, both uneasy without their wands. Ignoring them, Rumple again took Harriet’s hand in his. Nobody spoke and the only noise to be heard in the apartment was Kreacher cleaning.

Ron and Hermione silently watched Rumple as he leaned forward, thumb rubbing the back of Harriet’s hand, and began to whisper to himself. Neither one of them could understand what he was saying, but both were once again struck by how devastated Rumpelstiltskin seemed. While it still bothered Hermione, she couldn’t help but wonder if his devastation was genuine. If so, what did it mean that the great and terrible Lord Voldemort could now feel?

Finally unable to take the whispering and silence anymore Ron asked, “Should we slap her?”

Rumpelstiltskin’s head snapped up and he glared, prompting Ron to ask, “Isn’t that what your supposed to do when someone passes out?”

“You do and I’ll slap back,” Harriet suddenly croaked. Hermione and Ron quickly stood and rushed to her side while Rumple smiled faintly, still rubbing her hand with his thumb.

“You frightened us dearie,” Rumpelstiltskin muttered.

“I didn’t mean to,” Harriet replied, struggling to sit up. Hermione put her arm around Harriet’s shoulders to help her sit, while Ron began stuffing pillows behind her back. Harriet felt weak and drained, like she usually did after a particularly horrific nightmare. Smiling at her friends, she felt touched by the care they showed her.

“I know,” Rumple replied, still rubbing the back of her hand, “That was my fault.”

Harriet just smiled faintly at Rumple and then turned her attention to her friends.

“You’re here?” Harriet asked, her voice small and filled with wonder.

“Of course we’re here,” Hermione exclaimed, her fear for her friend making her shout, “We couldn’t leave you with HIM!”

Harriet winced and Rumple glared. Hermione however, found the courage to glare back. As politely as he could, Rumple said, “Please lower your voice. She just had an ordeal.”

“And you didn’t?” Harriet asked, tightening her hold on his hand, “How does your chest feel?”

“Like I was run over by an ogre,” Rumple replied, bringing his free hand up and rubbing his sternum, “But the pain will pass. My ribs have already healed from your ill-conceived CPR attempt.”

“Sorry,” Harriet apologized sheepishly, and Rumple smirked.

“Don’t be,” Rumple replied his eyes sparkling with good-humor, “Although, I would have preferred not to be called a mother fucker as a lay dying.”

Harriet chuckled at that, breaking some of the tension in the room. Rumple continued to smirk as he stood.

“I’m going to shower,” Rumple announced. Looking at Hermione he said, “You will sit with her.”

“Of course,” Hermione nodded, realizing she had no choice, but then sardonically said, “And not just because you haven’t given our wands back.”

“Rumple?” Harriet asked questioningly.

“They pulled them on me,” Rumple replied with a shrug, “So I took them. They’ll get them back when they leave.”

Sniffing, Hermione looked at Harriet, expecting her to side with them. Harriet just nodded, “That seems reasonable.”

“Reasonable?” Hermione asked wonderingly. Harriet couldn’t possibly be suggesting that Lord Voldemort had been in the right?

“You shouldn’t come into people’s homes and threaten them,” Rumpelstiltskin replied reasonably, “Should you?”

“This isn’t your home!” Ron burst out, causing Rumple to look as if he’d been slapped.

However, Rumple quickly recovered and sneered, “Maybe not, but it’s not yours either.”

Then he left.

Harriet sighed and looked at her two friends.

“Please try and get along with him,” Harriet pleaded tiredly.

“He shouldn’t be here Harriet,” Hermione replied, sitting on the edge of her bed, “It’s not right.”

“Why?” Harriet asked resentfully, “Because you say so?”

“I don’t have to tell you everything he’s done,” Hermione insisted, looking surprised at her friend, “You know what he’s capable of better than anyone.”

“Yes,” Harriet said, shifting in the bed to lean toward Hermione, “I am. Which is why I’m telling you he is different now.”

“What do you mean?” Ron asked, frowning. While he still thought Harriet was being unreasonable, he was willing to hear her out. If only to show her how crazy she sounded.

Harriet swallowed and said, “He was reincarnated in another world.” Ron and Hermione frowned and looked at each other in puzzlement, “It’s very different from ours. He had completely different parents and completely different surroundings.” Biting her lip she continued, “He couldn’t even use magic until he was an adult.”

Hermione and Ron looked at each other, doubt in their eyes and Harriet sighed, “You don’t believe me.”

“We’re trying to understand Harriet,” Hermione replied quietly, “But you expect us to believe in reincarnation.” She wanted to be there for her friend. Hermione couldn’t begin to understand what it was like to feel so alone that Lord Voldemort seemed like an acceptable companion, but she never wanted her friend to feel that way again.

“I know,” Harriet replied quietly, “But you haven’t met the people I have or seen the things I’ve seen.” Harriet looked away and said quietly, “You can’t feel him like I can.”

“Feel him?” Ron asked, concerned.

“In my head,” Harriet said, fingering her scar. Then with a sigh she put the same hand on her chest and said, “And in my heart.”

Taking a breath she continued, trying her best not to feel uncomfortable at the dawning horror on her friends faces, “Sometimes even in my gut.”

“That’s horrible,” Hermione whispered, taking her hand. But Harriet bit her lip and said, “It was before. When he was filled with nothing but hate and rage and selfishness. But now……”

“Now?” Ron asked, taking the seat Rumple had vacated, “How is it different?”

“There’s still anger,” Harriet replied quietly, “And selfishness……but the hate…..the hate isn’t there as much. Now, there is love and laughter and kindness.”

“Kindness?” Ron asked thoughtfully, looking away from Harriet and back toward the living room, “Is that what you call it?”

“What else?” Harriet asked, frowning, “He’s been kind to me. He makes me eat and keeps me from drinking. He listens to what I have to say and he never makes me feel like I have to be someone I’m not.”

“That sounds like guilt,” Hermione whispered, wincing at the shadow that passed across Harriet’s face.

“And if it is?” Harriet asked, her voice gravelly, “He never felt guilt before.”

“I just don’t think you're thinking clearly,” Ron said, licking his lips nervously, “I think you're overwhelmed and lonely.”

“Rumplestilskin is very charming,” Hermione said quietly, glancing over her shoulder, “The children already adore him,” Grimacing Hermione whispered, “I can’t believe I left him alone with our children.”

“He wouldn’t hurt them,” Harriet said, rushing to reassure her friend, “Monie, that is one thing he wouldn’t do.”

“He hurt you,” Ron said quietly, making Harriet wince, “You were a baby when he came for you. You had to live with the Dursley’s because of him. You never had a moment's peace at Hogwarts because of him.”

“I don’t blame the Dursley’s on him,” Harriet said quietly, looking away, “ I would have lived with them regardless of how my parents died.”

“If he hadn’t killed them, they wouldn't have died!” Hermione yelled, frustrated.

Harriet winced and looked down at her hands, twisting the blankets with her fingers. Her head was hurting, her mouth was growing dry, and she felt unsettled. She wanted to get up and move, but she knew that she was too weak.

“I know,” Harriet said quietly, her stomach rolling. There were so many things she didn’t want to think about. So many problems in her life that she could lay at Rumple’s feet. She should be angry, she should want revenge. At the very least, she should want nothing to do with him. Yet the idea of him leaving made her want to cry.

“Maybe when we figure out how to break this connection, I’ll want him gone,” Harriet said quietly, “Maybe when we’re no longer so enmeshed, his kindness will fade. Until then, we have to work together.”

“Fine,” Hermione said, her shoulder’s slumping, “But he isn’t to be around our children.”

Harriet nodded, face impassive. She knew it was only right. That she would do the same in Hermione’s position, but it bothered her that she wouldn’t be able to see the children.

“Alright,” Harriet said, refusing to cry in front of her friends. They weren’t safe. They didn’t understand, and she found she couldn’t be vulnerable with people who didn’t understand, “Just tell them ... .tell them I love them, please.”

Ron began to speak but Hermione cut him off, “We will.”

Sniffing Harriet looked at her hands and tried to keep them from shaking but found that she couldn’t. God, she hated how pathetic she was.

Suddenly, a knock came from the door and Rumpelstiltskin stuck his head in. He looked distraught.

“Hugo is here,” Rumple said, pushing the door open and allowing the little boy to come in. He was crying as he rushed toward Ron.

“Hugo!” Ron exclaimed as he picked him up. Hermione rushed over to her son, “What are you doing here?”

“I was thinking of you and mommy,” Hugo cried, his whole body shaking, “I wanted to be with you so bad and then I was here!”

“What is going on?” Hermione asked, reaching for Hugo and taking his hand, “Hugo, where is Rosie?”

“She was screaming,” Hugo went on, “There was someone chasing us.”

“But you were at Granny's,” Harriet said quietly, “Hugo, did something bad happen at Granny's?”

Hugo shook his head and said, “We…..after we were done playing with Uncle Rum we went……to the woods.”

“Hugo!” Hermione scolded, “You’re not allowed there!”

“I know!” Hugo wailed, “But we go all the time and nothing bad happens, but today……today we were playing tag and this man appeared out of nowhere and started chasing us.”

“What?” Harriet thundered, pulling her covers back in order to get up, “What did he look like?”

“I don’t know,” Hugo said, sniffing, “He was in a long cloak. I couldn’t see his face.”

“What did his hands look like?” Rumple asked as he helped Harriet out of bed.

“He wore black gloves,” Hugo said quietly, “Rosie yelled for us to run.”

“But where is Rosie?” Ron asked, his voice wavering.

“The bad man jerked her back,” Hugo said crying, “And I got scared and wanted you.”

“We’ve got to find her,” Harriet said, standing and taking a step forward only to sway and almost fall. Rumple caught her and helped her to sit back down.

“You’re in no condition for a rescue mission,” Rumple said, his voice hard, “I’ll go.”

“You’re going nowhere near my daughter!” Hermione thundered.

“I understand your reservations,” Rumple’s voice was low and urgent, “I understand protecting your own child, but what you have to protect her from isn’t me.”

Producing Ron and Hermione’s wands with a flourish, Rumple extended them toward the couple, “Take them and we’ll find your daughter, together.”

Hermione frowned and looked at Ron, who stared at the wands for a moment before saying, “I’ll stay with Harriet and Hugo. Go with him, Monie. We can’t waste any more time.”

“I can watch Hugo, Ron,” Harriet offered, but Ron shook his head as he took his wand from Rumple. Looking it over, he returned his attention to Harriet, “You’re in no condition to be left alone. Let alone with a child. This is where I need to be.”

Harriet nodded and watched as Hermione took her wand from Rumple. Reluctantly, she took the dark wizard’s offered hand and, in a blink, they were gone.

Ron looked at Harriet, an edge to his voice, “I hope you're right about him.”

“Me too,” Harriet whispered, her voice small and lost.

The Woods

Rumpelstiltskin and Hermione appeared at the edge of the woods. It was dark and overcast, prompting Rumple to cast Lumos. Surveying the area, he could see the Burrow in the distance. While the children had gone far while playing, they had made sure to keep the Burrow in their sights. They were reckless, but not stupid.

“Send a patronus,” Rumple commanded as he scanned the ground. In one hand he held a ball of light, in the other he leaned heavily on his cane, looking for signs of a struggle, “We may need help.”

Hermione pursed her lips, disliking Rumple’s commanding tone, but did as he bid. Then she cast Lumos herself and began searching. Suddenly, Rumple made a noise in his throat. Allowing the ball of light to dissipate, he picked up a child’s sneaker ...it was Rose’s.

“But where is she,” Rumple muttered in frustration as he used Hermione’s light to study the sneaker.

“Oh god,” Hermione groaned as she reached for it, but Rumple stopped her.

“Wait,” Rumple said, grabbing her wrist, “Don’t touch it.”

“Give me her shoe!” Hermione shrieked, causing Rumpelstiltskin to roughly pull her forward and glare. Bitingly he said, “If you want to find your daughter, you will stop fighting me every step of the way.”

Hermione was breathing rapidly trying to keep her hysteria at bay. Sighing, Rumple let go of her wrist. Pulling back, Hermione looked away from the dark wizard and whispered, her voice cracking, “I just want to find her.”

“Then listen to me, dearie,” Rumple replied, his voice turning soft, “We WILL find her, and we’ll make whoever took her pay.”

Hermione looked at him then. Conviction and confidence radiating off him in waves and she begrudgingly nodded. She would do anything to get her daughter back, even work with Lord Voldemort.

Looking at the shoe, Rumple took a deep breath and then slowly let it out. He knew blood was an important component of many spells. A blood tracer spell would be ideal, but they didn’t have time to find a map. However, if he were able to use the blood itself as the tracer, then it could work. Gripping his cane, he transfigured it into a golden dagger, placed the shoe on the ground, and passed it over the shoe.

Of course nothing happened.

Disgusted, Rumple threw the dagger on the ground and growled, “Of course it won’t work. It’s not the right damn dagger.”

“Why do you need a specific dagger?” Hermione asked. Rumple sighed and looked at her in agitation, “Think of the dagger as my wand.”

“But don’t you use wandless magic?” Hermione asked, frustrated. She was annoyed at her own curiosity. She didn’t want to engage with him besides what she had to. Yet, she couldn’t help but be curious. The magic Rumpelstiltskin used was fascinating and Hermione, despite her current profession, was a scholar.

“Magic is all about intention,” Rumple lectured, kneeling in front of Rose’s shoe, “Wands and other magical conduits help channel that intention. Sometimes enhancing a person’s power, sometimes diminishing it, but always focusing it. Right now, the spell I intend to use is one I’m not familiar with. It would help to have a magical conduit to focus my power.”

“Can you use my wand?” Hermione asked. Rumple frowned as he looked at Hermione then looked at the shoe. He was aware of how long this was taking. If this took much longer, they might not find Rose alive.

Reaching out, Rumple took Hermione’s wand, plunging them into inky blackness. Blinking, Rumple gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, focusing on the Darkness. While he couldn’t see in the dark as a human, as the Dark One he could.

Opening his eyes, he found the environment around him was visible, if grayish and dark. Looking at the shoe, he focused on centering himself. He pushed the worry, agitation, and anger aside and left only calm. Staring at the blood, he imagined it lifting off the shoe and hanging in the air, glowing faintly in the dark. He then moved the wand over the shoe in a complicated pattern. The blood rose off the shoe, glowing crimson in the dark and shot forward, leading them deeper into the woods. Quickly Rumple grabbed his dagger, while Hermione grabbed the shoe, and both rushed after the blood trail.

Rose was scared. She had tried to run, but the bad man had caught her and she couldn’t get away. She tried to disappear like Hugo had, but she couldn’t seem to get the trick of it. Instead she was dragged deeper into the forest. She had kicked and screamed and fought, but they were too far away for anyone to hear her.

Now she was tied to a tree, far away from the Burrow and the safety of her family. She didn’t know what was going on and she was afraid. Sniffling, she watched the robed figure pace in front of her.

“If he doesn’t come get her soon,” The man hissed viciously, “I’m going to slit her throat myself.”

Rose whimpered, her fear only heightening when she saw something move in the trees. Letting out a desperate wail, she hoped that her family could hear her. Surely by this time Hugo had found their parents?

It didn't take them long to find Rose. Surprisingly, the kidnapper had made no attempt to hide her, which concerned Rumple. Quietly, he dispelled the blood trace and handed Hermione her wand. Feeling disquieted and fearing a trap, he pulled up his hood and motioned for her to be silent. Nodding, Hermione crouched behind Rumple as they slowly made their way forward. Thankfully, their area of the woods didn't seem to have much underbrush, aiding them in their rescue mission.

They had just closed in for the attack, when Rose let out a terrible wail. Seeing his opening, Rumple used the kidnapper's distraction against him. Reaching out with his magic, he pulled the kidnapper away from Rose and toward him. Grabbing him by his robes, Rumple wrestled the man to the ground while Hermione sprinted toward her daughter. Using her wand to cut the ropes that bound her, she pulled Rose into her waiting arms.

Rumple felt the Darkness within him grow excited by the violence and he made sure to compartmentalize his emotions. He didn’t want to scare Rose. Or give Hermione more ammunition to turn Harriet against him. She already had enough.

Grabbing the man by the throat, Rumple growled, “What do you want with the girl?”

The man just sputtered and tried to pull out of Rumple’s iron grip. Growling at the kidnapper, he dragged him toward the tree and slammed him against the trunk. The kidnapper groaned in pain while Rumple smiled in grim satisfaction. Twirling his finger, the discarded rope snaked around the man’s body and bound him tightly to the tree Rose had just vacated.

From the corner of his eye, Rumple watched as Hermione fought to hide Rose's face from the violence. She was slowly walking backward, trying to put distance between them and the dark wizards. Rumple heard Rose whimper and he felt his anger heighten. Glaring at the kidnapper, he reached out to strike him when a sudden crashing could be heard from behind. Spinning around, Rumple watched as Severus, Remus, Charlie, and Mr. Weasley emerged from the woods, lighting the area with a modified wand charm. Without a second thought Rumple stepped back into the darkness and checked to make sure his hood was still in place.

“Is she hurt?” Mr. Weasley frantically asked, as he ran toward Hermione. Skidding to a stop beside his daughter-in-law, he peered at his granddaughter, who was reaching out to him. Without thinking, he pulled Rose from her mother’s arms, leaving Hermione free to pull her wand and point it at the monster that took her.

The kidnapper struggled as he spat, “Get away from me ya mudblood!”

Hermione quickly fired a stunning spell, only for it to suddenly freeze in place and then completely vanish, leaving everyone shocked. In the silence that followed, Rumple spoke, “If you stun him, we won’t know why he took Rose. The Ministry will take him before we have our answers.”

Frustrated, Hermione was about to argue when Rumpelstiltskin stepped out of the darkness. He pulled back his hood and Hermione felt the words die in her throat. She hadn’t noticed when he changed. She was only focused on finding her daughter, but she should have known he would. Quickly Hermione moved into action when she heard Mr. Weasley and Charlie gasp

“Don’t!” Hermione shouted, turning toward her brother-in-law. She knew he would be the first one to fire.

“Don’t?” Charlie spat, eyes never leaving the Dark One.

“It’s Rumpelstiltskin,” Hermione said, putting her hand out to restrain Charlie.

“Rumplestilskin?” Charlie echoed, slowly lowering his wand. “But…. he isn’t human?”

“Not even close,” Remus growled, his hackles rising at the crocodile appearance of the dark wizard.

Rumple was about to respond when the kidnapper behind him spat, “Get away from me ya freak!”

Glancing at the bound man, Rumpelstiltskin threw back his head and chortled darkly, causing the man to cringe. Then in a swift motion, he tore the kidnapper’s hood off.

“You!” Hermione gasped, “You’re supposed to be in Azkaban!”

Walden Macnair sneered at Hermione but said nothing. Rumpelstiltskin giggled, his Scottish brogue more distinct as he mocked his death eater, “My, my Macnair. Did you finally learn to think on your own?”

Macnair glared at Rumpelstiltskin and spat at him. Rumple sneered before slapping him with the back of his hands, “Do that again dearie, and you won’t have lips to spit.”

Rose whimpered again and Rumple jerked his head at the sound. Blanching, Rumple said, “Take her home. She doesn’t need to see this.”

“Why?” Rose involuntarily asked as she looked at Rumpelstiltskin. She took in his scaled armor and brownish gray hair. Even in the gloom she could see his reptilian eyes and crocodile skin and she found her voice long enough to ask, “Are you going to hurt him, Uncle Rum?”

Taken aback, Rumple glanced at the fierce little girl in Mr. Weasley’s arms. Seeing the care Mr. Weasley took with her, made him miss Henry all the more; his own fierce boy. Deciding to be truthful with her, like he would Henry, he said, “Yes lass. I am, and you don’t need to see it.”

The little girl held his gaze, something many grown men couldn’t do, and simply said, “He threatened to slit my throat.”

Rumpelstiltskin growled and slowly turned his head to Macnair. Macnair looked from Rose to Rumpelstiltskin and began to whimper. He thought if he’d been caught, they would just drag him back to Azkaban. He didn’t account for this. The freak in front of him didn’t seem like he played by the same rules as the Ministry.

“You’re a cruel little snot, aren't you?” Rumpelstiltskin hissed, causing Macnair’s blood to run cold. He had heard that voice before, he still dreamed of it during the night. But it couldn’t possibly be. His master was dead.

“Who are you?” Macnair whispered fearfully as Rumpelstiltskin reached out and gripped Macnair’s hair, making him look into his eyes.

“Don’t you remember your dear old Master, Macnair?” Rumpelstiltskin mocked and the bottom fell out of Macnair’s stomach. Pain exploded in his mind and he found himself remembering the last twelve years all at once. All his plans and schemes to get out of Azkaban, all the failed attempts, and every conversation he had with his employer in the past week. All of it was violently ripped from his mind, leaving him screaming in agony. Aggressively, Rumple gripped his former deatheater’s neck and twisted, cutting off Macnair's screams.

Breathing hard, he took a step back and just stared at the lifeless lump of cruelty in front of him. How he had ever thought to use men like Macnair as anything other than target practice he couldn't fathom. Turning back to the group, he pinched the bridge of his noise when he saw Rose was still there.

“Didn’t I say to get her out of here?” Rumple grumped as he walked forward.

“You didn’t give us enough time,” Hermione replied tiredly. She was studying him, trying to understand what Harriet saw, “Why did you kill him? He hadn’t answered our questions.”

“Oh but he did,” Rumpelstiltskin replied sarcastically, tapping his temple, “The joys of Legilimency, Mrs. Weasley.”

“And do you plan on sharing?” Severus snapped, giving Rumpelstiltskin a suspicious look.

“Of course,” Rumpelstiltskin tittered, “Just as soon as someone gives me a vial.”

Severus glared as he pulled an empty vial from his robes and aggressively handed it to Rumpelstiltskin.

“Thank you,” Rumpelstiltskin replied, his voice high and manic. Hermione handed him her wand without thought, causing Charlie and Mr. Weasley to protest. Hermione just ignored them.

Placing the wand to his temple, he quickly pulled a copy of Macnair’s memories from his mind and placed them in the vial. Sealing it, he handed the vial to Severus and said, “Here ya go, Severus. I hope that helps.”

Severus ignored Rumple as he turned on his heel, apparating from the woods. Rolling his eyes, Rumple handed Hermione her wand and asked, “Are you ready to go, dearie?”

Mr. Weasley tightened his hold on Rose as Hermione reached out for her daughter. Pulling away, Mr. Weasley urgently said, "I don’t feel comfortable with this Hermione.”

“I know,” Hermione acknowledged as Rose squirmed to be let down, “But Ron’s still with Harriet and Hugo. We’ll be fine.”

“Will you?” Remus asked, looking at Rumpelstiltskin like he was little better than an animal, “He just killed a man!”

“Who was going to kill my daughter!” Hermione thundered. Mr. Weasley’s lips tightened and he absently sat Rose down as he began to argue with Hermione. Rose looked between her mother and grandfather before she ran straight toward Rumpelstiltskin. Startled, Rumple could only watch as Rose immediately wrapped herself around his ankle.

“Rose!” Hermione gasped in surprise. She thought Rumpelstiltskin’s violent nature would deter her daughter from wanting to be near him. She was very upset to see that she was wrong.

“Lass,” Rumple began when Remus shouted at Rose, “Get away from him!”

Rose whimpered and tightened her hold on Rumple. She was scared of Macnair, worried about her brother, and frightened of what was going on. All she knew was the Rumpelstiltskin was powerful and scary, and he could protect her and her mother. She wanted Uncle Rum, and she wouldn’t be forced off his leg.

“Do NOT yell at the girl,” Rumpelstiltskin snarled, glaring at the wolf, “Unless you want to join Macnair.”

Remus wisely pressed his lips shut but continued to glare at the Dark One. Ignoring him, Rumple reached down and patted Rose’s head, “Lass, it’s alright. Macnair can’t hurt you anymore. I made sure of that.”

Rose nodded against Rumple’s leg and then asked in a muffled voice, “Uncle Rum, can you take me and mummy to Hugo and daddy?”

“Of course,” Rumple replied with a sad smile, “Just hold tight, little one.” Straightening, he reached out to Hermione who quickly took his hand. Startled by Hermione’s lack of hesitation, he gave her a puzzled look, before they disappeared back to Grimmauld Place.

A dark figure stood in the shadows; confident he wouldn’t be spotted. He watched as Remus placed a stasis spell on Macnair’s body and kept an eye on Mr. Weasley and Charlie as they looked for any remaining clues. When they found nothing, he sighed in relief as all three wizards left.

Stepping out of the darkness, he walked toward Macnair’s body and frowned.

“Well now,” said the dark figure to himself, “That was enlightening.”

A week ago, he’d been horrified when the dark mark reappeared on his arm. Terrified of the repressions, he had just started panicking when a searing pain had spread up and down his arm; dissolving the mark. When he’d reached out to his contacts in Azkaban, they confirmed that all the death eater’s there had the same experience.

The bizarre turn of events turned out to be his salvation. It prompted him to finally move forward with his plans. Before, he’d been too afraid of the aurors. They had been surprisingly efficient in capturing the last of the death eaters and he was afraid they were somehow attuned to the dark mark. While it had faded with the Dark Lord’s death, he had been sure it was still there, inked into his bones.

Now the mark was gone forever, setting him free. Although, he wasn’t sure why. It was obvious the Dark Lord was still alive, but extremely changed. The wild manic outbursts were still the same, but the tender care and protectiveness he had shown the Weasley girl was very different from the master he once knew.

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, he turned on his heel and left. Now that he knew the truth, he would have to adjust his plans. He was determined to find out what was happening.

Nothing would stand between him and the destruction of the Golden Trio.

London

Harriet quietly watched Ron pace beside her bed while she rocked Hugo. The little boy had been utterly exhausted and had fallen asleep just as soon as he snuggled into her arms. To keep herself from panicking, she began gently rocking him. She could feel Rumple’s twisting emotions but worked to remain impassive. She didn’t want Ron to see how connected she still was to Rumple. It would just be another reason for Ron not to listen to her.

She had just started thinking that maybe she should try Occlumency, when she felt a blinding pain slam into her forehead. Flashes of someone else’s life passed before her eyes too quickly to understand, yet she felt it was important.

Her whimpers woke Hugo and he cried, “Daddy, something’s wrong with aunty.”

Ron stopped pacing and rushed to Harriet’s side just as the images passed and the pain vanished. Sighing in relief she said, “I’m fine Ron.”

“What happened?” Ron asked, confused.

“I don’t know, " Harriet replied quietly, “I think Rumple was using Legilimency, but I can’t be sure. Hopefully, they’ll tell us what happened when they get back.”

“How are you so calm about this?” Ron asked, looking at Harriet in disbelief, “ you literally have someone else messing around in your brain!

Harriet sighed, “ I can’t do anything about it now Ron. We just have to work together to understand it.”

Ron threw his hands up with a frustrated “oi”. He’d just started his pacing again when Rumple reappeared with Rose and Hermione.

“Daddy!” Rose yelled as she let go of Rumple and rushed into her father’s arms. Ron held her like she was his own personal lifeline while Hugo slid off the bed and hugged his sister from behind. Hermione smiled as she took her family in her arms and hugged all three of them at once.

Rumpelstiltskin watched them, his heart in his eyes. His mind wandered to Bae, Belle, and Henry. He wished desperately for his boys and mourned all the missed moments with Belle. There was so much they would miss, so much they would never get to do.

Glancing at Harriet, he found his heart stuttering to a stop. She was staring at the Weasleys with naked longing. Focusing on their connection, Rumple could feel her desperate need for family. He became physically ill at the realization of just what he took from her.

Sitting in his vacated chair, he took Harriet’s hand and asked, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Harriet said, her voice soft and cracking. She was fighting tears,” I had a vision while you were gone.”

“I performed Legilimency,” Rumple confirmed quietly.

“Who was it?” Harriet asked, biting her lip. She refused to look at either her friends or Rumple. Instead, she just stared at her lap.

“Walden Macnair,” Rumple replied, his voice hard.

“A death eater,” Harriet said quietly, she gently took her hand from his and began twisting her fingers in the blanket.

“Yes,” Rumple whispered, pain in his voice, “One of mine.”

“What did he want?” Harriet asked bitterly.

“His memories were scattered,” Rumple replied, “But it was someone on the outside that helped him escape.”

“Great,” Harriet whispered, leaning her head against the pillows, “Another problem to figure out.”

“Just rest, love”, Rumple said, unthinkingly. He began fussing with Harriet’s blankets to make her more comfortable. Harriet watched solemnly as Rumple said, “We can discuss this more in the morning.”

Harriet nodded, watching Rumple’s skin glitter in the lamplight. She reached out and took his hand. “You changed,” She said.

Rumple stiffened and then replied, “It was dark and Rose was tied to a tree.”

“Ah,” Harriet said worriedly.

Knowing it calmed him, she lightly traced the back of his hand. Shuttering, Rumple changed back into his human form.

“That was cool!” Hugo exclaimed. Wiggling away from his parents and walking up to Rumple, “Can you teach me?”

Smiling at the boy, Rumple kneeled and fixed the boy's sweater, “I'm sorry lad. It’s something only I can do.”

“Are you half-human?” Rose asked quietly, coming to stand very close to Hugo.

Rumple smiled sadly and said, “In a way. Some people are born this way. I……made myself this way.”

Ron and Hermione looked at each other and quietly agreed to let the dark wizard speak. The Lord Voldemort they knew would never have been able to fake kindness, let alone tenderness. He never would have helped them get their child back. The least they could do was listen.

“How?” Rose asked with a frown.

“I did bad things,” Rumple replied quietly, “very bad things.”

Rose hadn’t seen him kill the kidnapper, but she had heard the crack of his neck and the satisfied grunt that had accompanied it. She may be only eight, but Rose knew enough to know that killing someone was supposed to be hard. You weren’t supposed to enjoy it.

Solemnly staring at Rumpelstiltskin she said, “Do you still do bad things?”

Rumple didn’t say anything for a moment. He just evaluated the two children in front of him. Finally, he replied, “On occasion.”

“Like saving me?” Rose asked, trying to understand.

Rumple replied with a soft smile, “I wouldn't say saving you was a bad thing.”

“But you killed the bad man,” Rose said, seemingly confused.

“Yes,” Rumple replied hesitantly. He glanced at the Weasley’s but neither parent seemed inclined to stop the conversation. Deciding to be honest, he said, “Sometimes you have to do bad things to save the people you care about.”

“And that’s why you do them?” Hugo asked, scrunching up his little nose. Chucking Rumple bopped the boy on the nose and said, “Yes. That’s why I sometimes still do bad things.”

Hugo giggled and Rose faintly smiled, but then she held her middle as a loud growl emanated from her stomach. Chuckling, Rumple yelled for Kreacher and asked the elf to make Hugo and Rose a late-night snack. It was nearing ten o'clock and he was sure they were famished. Cheering, they followed Kreacher into the kitchenette, eager for whatever the house elf would whip up.

Rumple smiled as he watched the children go and then he looked at their parents. His smile slowly dropped, and it was replaced with a tired sadness that Harriet had only ever seen on Albus Dumbledore’s face. She was strongly reminded of just how old he was.

“I suppose you want me to stay away from the children?” Rumple asked as he sat down in his vacated chair.

“You heard us,” Ron said, his voice flat.

“Yes,” Rumple replied and he began rubbing the tiredness from his eyes. His fingers itched to spin, but he knew he had much to do before he could rest.

“And I understand your fears,” Rumple continued, but stopped when Ron snorted, “How could you possibly understand?’

Anger flashed across Rumple’s face and Ron felt himself stiffen at the rage that emanated from the dark wizard. Then just as suddenly as the anger appeared it drained away from Rumple’s face, leaving a deep sadness in its place.

“I had a son,” Rumple replied, his voice horse.

“Oh,” Ron said quietly.

“He died recently,” Rumple continued.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said, just as quietly. Rumple nodded and then looked into the living room. The apartment was so small that he could easily see the children happily munching on the scones that Kreacher had warmed for them.

“Children should be protected,” Rumple said quietly, smiling faintly at the small children, “I’ve always thought that. Even as the Dark One.” He swallowed. He wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words. The Weasleys needed reassurance. They needed to know he posed them no danger, but his grief was too raw and his pain too fresh to continue.

Harriet cleared her throat and said, “It’s late. Why don’t you take the children home and get some sleep.”

Ron nodded and bent to kiss Harriet’s forehead, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Harry.”

Harriet nodded, surprised by Ron’s tenderness. He had always treated her like one of the guys and very rarely interacted with her like she was a woman. Her natural inclination toward tomboyish behavior had only promoted the idea that she wasn’t a “girl.”

It had never bothered her. However, it always touched her deeply whenever Ron let her see the tenderness he felt for her. Trying to keep her tears at bay, Harriet whispered, “Okay.”

Giving Harriet a hug and kiss on the check. Hermione began ushering her family home. Harriet smiled as she heard the children protest, and when silence descended on the small apartment, she found herself missing the noise. Glancing at the clock, she groaned when she saw how late it was.

“You should sleep,” Rumple said, clearing his gummy throat. Harriet nodded and watched as Rumple stood. She could tell he was stiff and exhausted. She couldn’t help but wonder why there was such a difference between how Rumple used magic as a human and as the Dark One. Was it another price of his immortality? Or was it a consequence of his splintered mind?

He began walking to the living room when he stopped and said, “I’m sorry about today.”

“Sorry?” Harriet asked, surprised.

Turning to look at her he said, “For not taking Albus’ glasses into account. For turning into the Dark One. For Macnair.”

“None of that was your fault,” Harriet began but Rumple cut her off. In a desperate voice he whispered, “For Lord Voldemort.”

Harriet felt herself choke and tears sprung to her eyes. However, before she could say anything he exited her bedroom and quietly shut the door. Birding her a quiet goodnight.

Alone with her whirling thoughts, Harriet was afraid she wouldn’t sleep. Too much had happened and there were so many things she needed to consider. Yet, the moment she heard the whirl of Rumple’s spinning wheel, she tumbled into dark and twisted dreams.

The Woods

Albus and Severus studied Macnair’s body. Nothing had been disturbed, yet Albus felt someone had been there recently. He couldn’t tell if it was his intuition or if he was sensing another magical signature, the feeling was faint, but he decided to listen to it.

“I do believe someone else was here,” Albus said quietly, looking around for possible places to conceal oneself.

“If he had been using a concealment charm,” Severus said tiredly, “We wouldn’t have seen him.”

“No,” Albus agreed, “You wouldn’t have.”

“If he did…..” Severus sighed, “He heard everything.”

“We must assume that he did,” Albus agreed.

“So someone else knows the Dark Lord is alive,” Severus said, sounding exhausted.

“It would seem so,” Albus surveyed the ground absently. He couldn’t make out whose footprints were whose.

“I had hoped to leave this cloak and dagger nonsense behind,” Severus muttered.

“So had I, Severus,” Albus replied looking at the younger wizard, “But it would seem life had other plans for us.”

Severus pinched the end of his nose. While it was fascinating to know there were other worlds, he would have rather lived in ignorance than for the Dark Lord to be alive. He wanted to rest. He was tired of fighting other people’s wars.

“What are we going to do about Potter?” Severus asked tiredly.

“We have both let her down,” Albus replied, his voice grim, “Now, we have to follow her lead.”

Severus nodded, shame reddening his face. Whenever he thought of the past, he was most regretful of how he treated her. While he couldn’t have been kind to her in public, he could have treated her differently in private. He could have used their Occlumency lessons as a way to build a rapport. Instead, he allowed himself to hate her.

For that alone, he would follow Harriet’s lead in regard to the Dark Lord. Still, he wouldn’t be fooled by Rumpelstiltskin’s charm. There was still a monster there, lurking in the darkness, and Severus would be ready for when he could no longer hide it.

Chapter Text

London

All night Harriet tossed and turned, plagued by nightmares of the final battle. She would startle awake, heart pounding and tears in her eyes, only to turn over and immediately be plunged back into the same nightmare. She knew it wasn’t real, yet she couldn’t stop them. By daybreak, she felt more exhausted than the night before.

Unable to fall back asleep, Harriet burrowed under the covers and curled into the fetal position. She couldn’t help but feel betrayed by her own mind. Despite knowing Rumpelstiltskin was still a dark wizard, she had chosen to forgive him. It wasn’t fair she had to continue dealing with horrific nightmares. Forgiveness was supposed to set you free. Yet Harriet still felt trapped, and heartbroken

Whenever she remembered the final battle, it always had a hazy quality to it; like she couldn’t get the images quite in order. It didn’t help that everything between leaving Dumbledore’s pensive and her dying was blank. She had always assumed dying had given her some kind of amnesia; for which, she’d been thankful. Her death wasn’t something she wanted to remember. Unfortunately, her nightmares had unlocked the real memories of her sacrifice.

Harriet remembered leaving Dumbledore’s office lightheaded and numb. The memories from the pensive being the last straw for her already frayed emotions. She remembered feeling cheated out of a childhood. She also remembered feeling disappointed with Dumbledore. Yet, what really stuck out to Harriet now, were the feelings of relief.

She didn’t have to be brave. She could rest.

In a moment of whimsy she’d decided to change clothes. What she had on was ripped and torn. The shirt was slashed across her chest and singed. Her pants were stiff with dried mud and hard to move in. She was uncomfortable and she didn’t want to die that way.

Harriet remembered a closet in the Great Hall that always seemed to be full of clothes and she knew that she could quickly change there. In a trance, she’d left the headmaster’s office and descended the stairs. Even now, she couldn’t say how she’d gotten to the Great Hall so quickly. The stairs, despite a war raging around them, stopped for no one, and yet they hadn’t hampered her ability to find her way. All the nights she had wandered Hogwarts in her invisibility cloak had paid off.

Standing in front of the closet, she remembered wanting to look pretty for once. Other than the dress she wore to the Yule Ball, Harriet hadn’t owned anything feminine. All her casual clothes had been pants and tee shirts. There had been a few sweaters and coats, but all of them were Dudley’s castoffs. Mrs. Weasley had taught her how to tailor her clothes, but she still dressed like a boy.

Biting her lip, Harriet had opened the door. The closet had been filled with every type of dress imaginable. The colors went from drab to dazzling and the cuts were as complicated as a ball gown to as simple as a sundress. Looking through the closet she remembered feeling overwhelmed before she realized what would be appropriate.

After all, what else do you wear to a human sacrifice?

She shut the door and then reopened it. The dresses had changed, turning into various shades of white. Some even sparkled. Looking through her options, Harriet’s gaze fell to a simple, ankle length dress. The skirt was light and shimmery while the bodice was form fitting but seemingly comfortable. The neckline was only slightly immodest, and the sleeves were short and puffy. She was sure it was a wedding dress, but Harriet didn’t care. She loved it.

Pulling off her clothes, she felt a pang of regret. She wished she could take a shower and fix her hair, but she knew she didn’t have time. Swallowing back tears, she slipped on the dress and smoothed down the wrinkles. There were even matching shoes.

Looking in the mirror, she smiled sadly. The dress fit her like a glove and even managed to enhance her wild appearance; making her appear fey-like. Running her fingers through her hair, she sighed in regret that she would only ever wear a dress like this once.

On her way to Voldemort, she had stopped Neville and made him promise to destroy Nagini. He’d agreed and went to kiss her when she’d stopped him. She hadn’t wanted to give him false hope; not when she was planning to die. Turning from him, she had quickly made her way to the courtyard. There, she had helped a few students bandage their wounds, getting blood on her bodice.

The walk to the clearing had dirtied the bottom of her dress and torn the skirt. Her interlude with the Resurrection Stone, had caused her to lose her shoes in the mud and the surrounding branches and tall bramble bushes had pulled at her hair; giving it an even wilder appearance.

Yet when she stood before Lord Voldemort, alone in the clearing save a few death eaters, she had never felt more beautiful. Voldemort's hungry eyes had traveled along her body, resting briefly on her hips and breasts before catching her eyes. She remembered realizing how uncertain he was. How confused.

But his uncertainty and confusion had only lasted a moment. Voldemort had circled her, like a predator stalking his prey, before coming to stand by her shoulder. She had felt him lean forward, his mouth near her ear, and whispered, “Join me Potter. Stand by my side, and you shall have everything you desire.”

Harriet had closed her eyes and remained quiet. Not because she was considering his offer, but because Voldemort would be the last person she would ever interact with. She had wanted to savor the solidness of his body and his surprising warmth. Licking her lips, Harriet had finally opened her eyes. Turning her head toward him, she whispered, “I’d rather die, but thanks.”

Voldemort had chuckled darkly, his face twisted in what Harriet had thought was anger. Not wanting to witness his hate, she had turned away when she was startled by the feeling of his lips lightly grazing her ear. She watched as he stalked away from her, before turning back around. There had been something like regret in his eyes when he said, “What a pity.”

She remembered the quick and harsh Avada Kedavra; the sickly green light and the feeling of a million tiny needles piercing her skin all at once. Then her dreams turned grayish and dark before she was finally startled awake.

Harriet had always known that something had happened in-between dying and waking up on the cold ground. She remembered, fleetingly, speaking to someone. There had been a chair and the sound of crying before she awoke, but she never felt the need to dwell on it. Now, she wished she had.

Sitting up, Harriet sniffed and wiped her nose on the covers. She stood slowly, some of her strength back despite her poor sleep, and absently grabbed a sweater and jeans to change into. Slipping her robe on, she looked at the clock. It was only six in the morning.

Quietly, she opened the door and sighed in relief when she saw Rumpelstiltskin wasn't at his spinning wheel. She grimaced when she remembered how disappointed she’d been to wake up alone in her apartment yesterday.

So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours.

Opening the bathroom door, she quickly shut and locked it. Leaning against the sink, her mind wandered back to her nightmare. Harriet involuntarily shivered as she imagined Voldemort’s lips caressing her ear. Then she reddened in shame.

What was WRONG with her?

Shaking her head, she turned on the shower and set the heat to scalding. Stripping, she quickly jumped in and began scrubbing her feelings away. Could she really be attracted to Rumpelstiltskin? Or did she just want a friend? Could it be both?

Harriet couldn’t help that her heart fluttered every time he looked at her. Nor could she stop the flip flopping in her stomach whenever they touched. She most definitely found it impossible to ignore her desire whenever he was in the Dark One form. She was still puzzled as to why she was so attracted to his crocodile-like appearance, but she supposed it had something to do with how he carried himself. It also didn’t help that his skin was soft and silky, and his eyes were beautifully unique; a perfect marriage of Lord Voldemort and Rumpelstiltskin.

Leaning her head against the shower door, Harriet closed her eyes. She knew her feelings weren’t right. That something had to be wrong with her to desire the man that killed her. Yet he was so different from how he used to be that she was finding it hard to care.

Harriet finished her shower in a daze of confusion. She pulled on her clothes and walked into the living room. Shivering from a faint chill, she started looking for something to eat. She was surprisingly hungry.

“You’re up early.” A voice observed, causing Harriet to jump and almost spill the cereal she was holding. Looking over her shoulder she noticed Rumplestilskin leaning against the backdoor, his arms crossed. He was dressed simply in jeans and a green V-neck shirt, and she found herself startled by how comfortable he was in her space.

“How long have you been there?” Harriet asked, biting her lower lip.

“Just walked in.” Rumple replied, pushing himself off the door. Harriet watched as he limped toward her. She frowned when she noticed that he wasn’t using his cane. Looking around, she saw it by the front door.

“I’ll get your cane.” Harriet said as she tried to hurry past him, but he gently grabbed her arm.

“You didn’t sleep well.” Rumple muttered; his mouth close to her ear. It mimicked her nightmare so accurately that she flinched away from him. Frowning, Rumple let her go and watched as she picked up his cane and skittishly presented it to him.

Taking it from her he asked, “What’s wrong, Beauty?”

Harriet just shook her head. Rumple could never know how she felt. Despite his possible divorce, he was still a married man. She was sure he would be disgusted with her. If not openly contemptuous of her feelings.

“What did I do now?” Rumple's voice was resigned.

“Nothing,” Harriet said quickly. Stepping forward she went to reassure him but stopped short of actually touching him. Even though she wanted to.

She wanted nothing more than for him to hold her against his warm body. She wanted to feel the slight paunch of his stomach against her abdomen and smell his musky scent. Yet she knew that it wouldn’t be a good idea. Her emotions were far too raw for friendship.

“I’ve done something,” Rumple said, his voice weary and resigned. He was holding himself still, as if waiting to be slapped.

“Nothing recently,” Harriet replied warily.

“Recently?” Rumple echoed, “Beauty, I’ve only been here for a few days….” Then Rumple abruptly stopped. Looking at her shadowed face he asked, “Is this……did you…...?” He took a deep breath, “I know you were having nightmares. You were unsettled all night. Were they about me?”

Swallowing Harriet nodded and looked away from him. Rumple took a step toward her, his hand outstretched, when Harriet abruptly walked toward the kitchenette counter. She hated how perceptive he could be.

Rumple frowned as he watched her bustle around the kitchenette. Something was wrong. After everything that had happened yesterday, she was intentionally trying to keep him at a distance.

The question was why?

“What caused the nightmares?” Rumple asked quietly and Harriet shrugged, grabbing another bowel for Rumple. “It was probably everyone discovering who you are.” Filling the bowels with cereal she muttered, “It was easier to believe you were different, when no one else knew who you were.”

“I am different,” Rumple said, his voice filled with hurt, “I thought you believed that?”

“I do,” Harriet replied, her voice harsh, “It’s just….the nightmares….they were bad, Rum.”

He silently watched as Harriet placed their breakfast on the table. He could see she was troubled but he wasn’t sure how to comfort her.

“I’m sorry,” Rumple felt his heart clench at seeing her in pain, “If I could, I would take away the hurt I caused you.”

“You killed me, Rum,” Harriet’s voice sounded strangled.

“I did,” Rumple agreed, wanting to take a step toward her, but knowing it wouldn’t be welcome.

“It was fuzzy before,” Harriet whispered, more to herself than to him, “I knew it happened, but I couldn’t remember it.”

Rumple was silent as he watched Harriet clench and unclench her hands. She was staring at the floor, her expression somewhere between fierce and frightened. He had thought she’d been too accepting of him these last few days. While he had chalked it up to loneliness and kindness and the strangeness of their situation, it never occurred to him that she too could have had memory loss.

“Your memories were suppressed too?” Rumple asked, struggling to keep his voice calm.

“In a way,” Harriet sighed tiredly, “I don’t know if it was my doing…. or someone else's.”

“Who?” Rumple frowned, dread piercing his heart.

“I don’t know,” Harriet shook her head, “Last night…. I dreamed of….my death.”

“Oh.” Rumple whispered, his heart beginning to race.

Involuntarily, his mind drifted to that morning in the Forbidden Forest. The sun had just begun to rise, making her dress sparkle in the early morning light. Her hair had been wild, and she’d been shaking from the cold. He remembered having the ridiculous impulse to wrap her in his cloak; a faintly human response he hadn’t completely eradicated.

She was beautiful, brave, and fierce; the complete opposite of him and he had wanted her for his own. For a moment, he had let his defenses slip. He leaned forward, inhaled the dirt, sweat, and blood that covered her, and offered her the world.

She’d refused, like he knew she would, but he’d taken no satisfaction in killing her. He’d actually been shocked at how deeply it affected him to see her lying there; still and cold. The girl-who-lived, had lived no more, and he’d felt the wrongness of that deep in his fractured soul.

Swallowing, Rumple opened his mouth to once again apologize, but instead asked, "Why the dress?”

“What?” Harriet asked, taken aback.

“You wore a dress,” Rumple’s voice was gravelly, “Why?”

Harriet stared at him for a moment, but then said heartbrokenly, “I wanted to die pretty.”

Rumple closed his eyes against the guilt. He tried to speak, but it felt like someone was squeezing his throat. Swallowing, Rumple opened his eyes and found Harriet’s emerald one's swimming with tears. He closed the distance between them and gently cupped her cheek, “You were, you know.”

“I was what?” Harriet whispered, trying to hide her pain and failing.

“Pretty,” Rumple replied, smiling at the stunned expression on her face. Shyly, he added, “Beautiful even.”

“I….” Harriet began, but then she cleared her voice, “You still killed me.”

“Yes,” Rumple replied, rubbing his thumb across her cheek, “I had to.”

“But you didn’t,” Harriet whispered, her eyes boring into his. The air around them began to crackle with tension. Rumple began leaning forward, her eyes beckoning him forward, when a shrill ring pierced the silence. The tension broken, Rumple cleared his throat and abruptly let Harriet go. Sniffing, she rubbed her nose on her sleeve and watched as Rumple picked up his phone.

“Why is she calling so early?” Rumple muttered to himself, “It’s one in the morning there.”

“Who?” Harriet asked, but then her heart constricted when she saw Belle’s name on the caller ID.

Turning, so Rumple couldn’t see how jealous she was, Harriet poured milk into their cereal and began to eat. He watched her for a moment before answering the call.

“What?” Rumple snapped.

“Are you fucking another woman?” Belle abruptly snarled; her voice heavily slurred.

“Are you drunk?” Rumple asked in a disbelieving tone.

“No.” Belle slurred. Rumple rubbed his temple.

“I’m not discussing this with you,” He snapped.

“I deserve to know,” Belle began but Rumple cut her off and savagely snarled, “Between the two of us, you’re the only one that’s getting fucked.”

His declaration was met by the sound of Belle’s ragged breathing. Frowning Rumple snorted in derision, his anger draining away at how pathetic they were.

“Go to bed. Make sure you drink some water in the morning. You’re going to be hung over.” Rumple’s voice was dismissive.

“I want to know.” Belle began but Rumple just hung up on her and blocked her number. He would unblock it later, but he wasn’t going to argue with her when she was drunk and belligerent enough to keep calling.

“Is everything okay?” Harriet asked, not looking at him while she played with her food.

“She’s drunk,” Rumple replied as he sat across from her, “and a little jealous I think.”

“She has no right to be jealous,” Harriet grumbled, and Rumple smiled. Despite her conflicting emotions, she was still on his side.

Watching her eat, Rumple asked, “Are you okay?”

Harriet looked at him from under her lashes, “Yeah, I’ll be fine. It was just…. a lot…. last night. Between everyone finding out, Rosie being kidnapped, and then the nightmares….”

“I know,” Rumple reached out and brushed her hand with his fingers, “But you have nothing to fear from me, Beauty.”

“You tried to take an unbreakable vow yesterday,” Harriet replied, with a half-hearted smile, “I believe you when you say you won’t hurt me.”

“Then what….” Rumple began but she just shook her head.

“It’s just hard to explain. I’ll get over it eventually.”

Deciding to let the matter drop, Rumple nodded. Looking at his food, he grimaced when he realized his cereal was almost too soggy to eat. Swallowing it quickly, he took the bowl to the sink.

“Where’s Kreacher?” Harriet asked, absently. She just realized the little elf wasn’t around.

“Winky needs help with the garden.” Rumple replied, watching her carefully from the corner of his eye, “I was helping earlier when I came back in to check on you.”

She nodded and tried to eat, but their conversation had put her off food.

“I was thinking about reading my journals,” Rumple winced, “But honestly, I can’t make myself.”

“Can I read them?” Harriet asked. She desperately wanted to know more about Tom Riddle. To see if there was even the tiniest bit of Rum in him. She wasn’t sure if it would make her feel better or worse about her attraction, but she was willing to find out.

Rumple paled, “Please don’t ask that of me.”

“That bad?” Harriet winced at his horrified face. She supposed that should be enough of an answer, but she still desperately wanted to know Rumple better. Maybe if she did, she would begin to understand herself.

Rumple rubbed his eyes in irritation, "I was a horrifying little snot.”

Inexplicably Harriet giggled, causing Rumple to frown, “What?”

“Just the look on his face at being called a snot…...” Harriet began, but then she frowned and swallowed, “Your….it was your face……” Harriet stopped smiling. Her eyes became vacant, and she looked at the floor.

Rumple limped toward her until he was standing by her side and softly commanded, “Talk to me.”

“You’re just so different,” Harriet whispered, looking up at him, “So caring and kind…... why would he...you...deny that?’

“I didn’t deny it, Beauty.” Rumple replied, touched at how Harriet saw him. Involuntary, he reached down and traced the right side of her jaw. Harriet shivered at the contact. Swallowing nervously, he pulled his hand away, “I……didn’t feel it….”

“I know we talked about it in the Forbidden Forest,” Harriet shook her head, “And I know……the reason…..”

“The reason?” Rumple echoed, frowning.

“Of why you couldn’t feel,” Harriet began but then stopped. She stood abruptly and grabbed her bowel.

He was frowning as he watched her throw away the half-eaten contents, "What do you mean?”

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?” Rumple snapped, his frustration mounting.

Harriet groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. Of course he didn’t know. Why would he?

“You were conceived under a love potion,” Harriet began, and Rumple’s eyes widened, “Amortentia.”

Rumple took a step back and sank into Harriet’s vacated chair. She frowned but continued, “Dumbledore suspected that was why you were so……evil. He thought the side effect of the potion was ....”

“The inability to love,” Rumple muttered, cutting her off. He’d thought his father had abused his mother, but the opposite was in fact true. His mother had used his father, just as Zelena had used him. No wonder his father hadn’t wanted him.

Gritting his teeth, Rumple felt his chest tighten. He started breathing heavily and his skin began to crawl. Harriet immediately knelt in front of him. Putting her hand on his chest she said, “Rum, breathe slowly.”

Rumple clutched her hand and leaned forward, his forehead almost touching Harriet’s. He closed his eyes as he smelled her pomegranate and honey shampoo and deeply breathed in and out, trying to catch his breath.

Needing to move, Rumple swallowed and stood. He gently pushed Harriet aside and began to pace. Frowning, Harriet asked, “Are you alright?”

“No!” Rumple involuntary hissed. Harriet could feel her head begin to ache and her body tremble slightly. She was becoming resigned to feeling Rumple’s emotions, but they usually stayed within the realm of anger, sorrow, or guilt. She hadn’t felt this emotion before

Was it fear? Or shame?

“Talk to me,” Harriet pleaded. She knew better than to try and stop his pacing.

“I….” Rumple began but stopped. Could he tell her what Zelena had done? What she’d made him do? What she’d made him enjoy?

Swallowing Rumple turned away and hissed, “My mother raped my father.”

Harriet flinched, but stood and gently said, “Don’t judge your mother too harshly, Rum.”

Rumple spun around, “Excuse me?”

Harriet stiffened when she saw the anger in his eyes. Softly she pleaded, “Rumple, please let me continue.”

“What more is there to say?” Rumple hissed, as he slowly advanced toward her, his eyes changing to amber. He was still limping, so he wasn’t about to change form. Yet he was quite clearly angry with her.

In a rush, she said, “She was being abused at home. The Gaunt’s were evil fuckers that beat her. She became obsessed with your father as a means to cope….”

But Rumple cut her off.

“I don’t give a FUCK!” Rumple roared and Harriet flinched. He didn’t even care if he scared her. The more she talked, the more his mother reminded him of Zelena.

“Why are you so fucking mad!” Harriet’s temper flared and she was suddenly yelling, “I get it was bad, but bloody hell! It was the past!”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if it were you!” Rumple roared; his fists clenched.

Harriet rubbed her eyes and began to slowly breathe in and out in an attempt to control her anger. Yelling at Rumple was only making her headache worse, “I know Rum.”

“No you don’t,” Rumple replied, his voice shaking, “You don’t know what it’s like to have someone else control you!”

“Control?” It suddenly occurred to Harriet that they were no longer speaking about his parents.

Rumple looked at her, his eyes glistening with shame. Swallowing Harriet took a careful step forward and put her hand on his shoulder, “Who controlled you?’

“Zelena,” Rumple whispered, flinching away from her touch, “For a year and a half she had my dagger….” Rumple swallowed, “She made me do things.”

“What things?” Harriet asked, her voice soft and coaxing.

“Nothing that I wish to speak about,” Rumple replied, struggling to keep his voice even.

Harriet paused and realized just what he wasn’t saying. Biting her lip she asked, “Rum, did Zelena……did she……make you have sex with her?”

Rumple flinched and turned away from her, ashamed.

“Oh Rum,” Harriet whispered tenderly.

Rumple looked down, hiding his face with his hair. Then suddenly, he laughed hollowly, “The great and terrible Lord Voldemort, brought low by a redheaded, green skinned, psychopath.”

Harriet reached out and took Rumple’s chin in her hand. Making him look at her she asked, “Where is she now?”

“Dead,” Rumple hissed, his eyes flaring amber. He dared her to reprimand him.

“Good,” Harriet replied, her eyes hard and her voice vicious. Rumple blinked for a moment and then he smiled wickedly.

“Ohhhh,” Rumple whispered, reaching out and cupping Harriet’s cheek, “Who knew what a vicious little thing the famous Harry Potter could be.”

Harriet’s face hardened, and she pulled away from Rumple, letting his chin go.

“Don’t call me that,” Harriet commanded.

Rumple snickered, “Viciousness isn’t usually a Gryffindor trait, dear.”

“The sorting hat wanted to put me in Slytherin,” Harriet shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, "There had to be a reason.”

Seeing her impassive face, his anger burned out as quickly as it flared, and Rumple just nodded. The amber in his eyes faded and he plopped down onto a kitchenette chair, jarring his leg. Wincing he leaned forward on his cane and muttered resignedly, “Well…. you got me there,”

Harriet snorted and glared halfheartedly at Rumple. Hesitantly, she reached out and put her hand on his shoulder, “What am I going to do with you?”

Rumple glanced at Harriet and felt a jolt spread through him. Their eyes locked and he found himself with the strongest urge to pull her into his lap. To hide his face in the crook of her neck and breath in her scent. To slowly coax her into making him forget any touch but hers. He knew that her hands would be kind, that her mouth would be loving, and he wouldn’t have to worry that she was hurting him. That she might be someone else.

Zelena’s violations had made it hard for him to love Belle the way a husband should. Luckily, he was able to compartmentalize and perform his duties to her, but there had been a few times he wasn’t as present as he should’ve been. Belle never seemed to notice the times he…. wasn’t there.

Pushing his thoughts away he replied sarcastically, “You’re not the first person to ask that question, dearie.”

Harriet smiled then and lightly smacked him. Affectionately, he caught her hand and tenderly kissed her knuckles. He knew his actions were out of place, but he couldn’t deny himself the comfort. Afraid to gauge her reaction, he glanced at Harriet only to find her biting her bottom lip and looking thoughtful.

Encouraged, Rumple tenderly turned her hand over to kiss her wrist, when Harriet tugged on his hand. Frowning, he followed her into the living room, suddenly unsure of what he was feeling. He was distraught over what he’d learned about his parents, he was angry at having to discuss Zelena’s mistreatment, and yet he was following after Harriet like a lovesick puppy.

What was wrong with him?

Sitting down on the couch Harriet said, “I think we need a break, Rum.”

“Do we?” Rumple asked quietly, settling in beside her. What did she mean by break?

“Yes,” Harriet said, squeezing his hand, “A drama free day, just the two of us.”

“That sounds….intriguing,” Rumple commented, relieved she hadn’t meant a break from him.

Smiling, Harriet pulled her hand away, grabbed her phone, and sent a quick text. Smiling at the prompt reply, she said, “Ron and Hermione are planning to check on us around dinner. We have the day free until then.”

“What do you suggest we do, dearie?” Rumple asked, enjoying the way Harriet’s eyes sparkled when she was pleased.

“Nothing big,” Harriet replied with a smile, “I was thinking you could run and get us coffee and muffins while I plug in the Telly. We can have a movie marathon.

“A movie marathon?” Rumple echoed.

“Yeah,” Harriet confirmed, suddenly feeling shy, “If you think it’s stupid…..”

“No,” Rumple said, shaking his head, “I don’t……what would we watch?”

Harriet smiled mischievously, “I'm not going to lie, I plan on binging every romantic movie I’ve got.”

“Just don’t make me watch anything ridiculous,” Rumple replied indulgently as Harriet’s smile turned from shy to radiant. Standing, his casual outfit morphed into his usual black suit, and he quickly exited the apartment; not wanting to be parted from her a second longer than he had to.

Harriet smiled tenderly as he left. Already the day was fraught with emotional outbursts, but she hoped that by doing something relaxing they could salvage the day. Between the mysterious person that had orchestrated Rosie’s abduction to the mystery of Rumple’s reincarnation, there was enough to cause stress. She just wanted to relax as she regained some of her energy and spending time with Rumple was much preferred to anything else.

Storybrooke

Henry couldn't decide if he was a better liar than he thought or if his family was just gullible. A spiteful part of himself wondered if they even cared. With both of his mothers acting distant and his grandparents distracted, his doubts were smothering his ability to believe the best in people. While he knew he was the “truest believer”, he also knew that he was only human, and the power only worked as long as he was naive enough to believe the best in everyone.

What really bugged him was that if Emma and his grandparents had paid attention, they would have seen through his lies. Instead, Emma had been dismissive of his illness and Snow had barely said anything at all. David had just watched him carefully as he fed Neil. Henry was sure David was suspicious, but so far, his grandfather hadn’t said anything.

Currently, the only adult that showed him caring was Rumpelstiltskin. He could hear the pain in his grandpapa’s voice at their separation. Henry knew he would be there if he could. It had been Belle that had separated them, to the satisfaction of his so-called family.

His hard feelings for the librarian only intensified every time he saw her open the pawn shop and leave her boyfriend inside to run it. Even now, as he ached for his grandpapa, he was forced to watch his step-grandmother kiss another man. Henry scuffed his shoes as he stood outside the pawn shop and glared at the happy couple within. Maliciously Henry looked for a rock to throw, when a posh voice behind him said, “As much as I don’t like Mrs. Gold, maybe you shouldn’t destroy her property, Mr. Mills.”

Glancing over his shoulder, Henry found a gentleman closer to fifty than forty speaking to him. His hands were in the pockets of his tweed suit, and he wore a checkered gold tie and a brown paperboy hat. A tie clip of a pendulum clock on the man’s lapel informed Henry of who was addressing him.

“Mr. Cogsworth?” Henry asked. He had only ever heard his grandpapa speak about Dove Cogsworth once and it was clear that Rumpelstiltskin had nothing but respect for the man.

“Yes,” Cogsworth confirmed, as he walked toward Henry. The older man had the gait of a predator, despite how nonchalant he seemed, and Henry found himself feeling uneasy. While he knew his grandpapa would encourage Henry to trust him, he found Cogsworth’s gaze unnerving. He had a bad feeling about him. Not one that would make him afraid for his safety, but one that told Henry Cogsworth was trouble.

“You wanted to talk to me?” Henry asked as he began to make his way toward Granny’s. It was a last-minute decision but one he didn’t fault himself for making. Cogsworth made him nervous, and he didn’t want to be alone with him.

“Your little group is going to be noticed,” Cogsworth said as he matched Henry’s casual stride.

Henry’s steps faltered, but he didn’t stop. Licking his lips nervously Henry asked, “People are watching us?”

“Not yet,” Cogsworth looked casually around, “However, if you keep meeting in Micheal’s cottage, they will be.”

“He’s being watched?” Henry felt worry begin to claw at his stomach.

“He has been since he spoke with Mrs. Gold about the dagger,” Cogsworth replied with a shrug, “There are many people in this town that would like to see the dagger stay where it is.”

Henry stopped walking and said frantically, “We can’t let them.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Mills,” Cogsworth said as he pushed the boy gently forward. They needed to keep moving. People would become suspicious if they saw him linger in Henry’s presence for too long, “It’s under control, for now.”

“Oh,” Henry said in relief, “That’s good.”

Cogsworth smiled at Henry as they stopped in front of Granny’s. Casually glancing around he said, “Have a great day Mr. Mills. Please give your grandfather my regards,” Hesitating for a moment he asked, “Maybe I will hear from him?”

Henry bit his lip before he nodded, “I don’t see why not.”

“Good,” Cogsworth doffed his hat, checked the time on his pocket watch, and whistled as he leisurely walked away.

Henry swallowed nervously and hurried into Granny’s. Darting around customers, he waved at Ruby to get her attention. Smiling, she jerked her head toward the back. Grinning, he slipped behind the counter and hid himself in the diner's laundry room.

Following him, breakfast plate in hand, Ruby scolded, “You’re going to get in trouble skipping school like you do.”

“Emma and my grandparents think I’m sick,”

“Still, you better get back after breakfast.” Ruby cautioned as she handed him his breakfast.

“Are you seeing Archie today?” Henry took the plate from her and began eating.

“Yeah,” She leaned against the doorframe and glanced over her shoulder at the busy dining room. Henry would need to leave soon, “Why?”

“We’re being watched,” Henry replied, causing Ruby to startle.

“What?”

“Mr. Cogsworth told me,” Henry wasn’t sure how much he should tell Ruby and Archie. He was still miffed they had sided with Micheal, but was growing uneasy about his plan to abandon them for Cogsworth. It no longer seemed like the wisest choice.

“Dove?” Ruby muttered. Frowning, she said, “He’s dangerous Henry.”

“I know,” Henry shrugged, “But he worked for my grandpapa.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Ruby said urgently, “He’s a monster hunter.”

Henry stiffened, “What?”

“Before he began working with Gold,” Ruby replied, “He used to track down and kill monsters. Granny said he killed my grandfather, but nothing was ever proven.”

Henry was quiet for a moment as he ate. Swallowing he asked, “What do you think we should do? He wanted grandpapa to call him.”

“I think you should speak to Gold,” Ruby took his plate from him, “Dove would be a good asset to have on our side, but…..his loyalty is to Gold and only to Gold.”

Henry nodded thoughtfully, “I’ll do that as soon as I get back to the apartment.”

Ruby nodded and motioned for him to go. Henry dashed back behind the counter and slipped out the door without anyone noticing. He quickly made his way back to his grandparent’s apartment and was feeling pretty good about himself as he unlocked the door. He walked in and turned to go upstairs when he froze. Looking over his shoulder he saw David casually sitting on the couch, staring at him.

“Hello Henry,” David said darkly, “Fancy seeing you here.”

Henry swallowed, “Hey grandpa…..”

David glared at him and Henry winced, “Where were you?”

“I….” Henry began, trying desperately to think of a lie when David snapped, “Drop that conniving Rumplestilskin look and tell me the truth.”

Henry’s jaw clenched, “Why does everyone use that as an insult?”

“What?”

“Every time I do something someone dislikes they compare me to grandpapa,” Henry gritted his teeth, “It’s annoying.”

“Grandpapa?” David said slowly, “I wasn’t aware you called him that.”

“He’s my grandfather,” Henry replied, his tone hard, “Despite what everybody wants.”

David didn’t say anything for a moment. Finally he asked, “Where were you?”

“At Granny’s,” Henry replied with a sigh, “I didn’t want to go to school and Ruby gave me food.”

“Why didn’t you want to go to school?” David asked, crossing his arms

“I just didn't,” Henry replied petulantly.

“I don’t think you're being truthful,” David’s tone turned lecturing, “Heroes don’t lie.”

Henry snorted, “Hero's lie all the time.”

David began to argue but Henry cut him off, “Emma lies to herself about loving Hook. You lie to yourself about how proud of her you are, and grandma lies about how much she likes mom now.”

David didn’t say anything, he just stared at Henry. How was it that he was so observant? He didn’t remember being that observant when he was thirteen, but then again….he wasn’t raised by the Evil Queen, kidnapped by Peter Pan, and the grandson of the Dark One.

“I am proud of Emma,” David said carefully, “I’m just ... .worried.”

“She’s failing,” Henry said, his voice hard, “I don’t know what’s wrong with her, but she’s failing and she refuses to see it. Both my moms are.”

David sighed and rubbed his face. He was so tired. Even before the Dark Curse was cast he hadn’t been able to rest. Now, as he looked at the young boy before him, he realized that he was letting his grandson down.

“What’s the plan then?” David asked sarcastically, “Do we kidnap them and make them talk about their problems?”

“It’s worse than that,” Henry replied, shaking his head, “If we don’t do something, Storybrooke is going to implode.”

“Then what do you propose kiddo? Because I have no idea how to stop it!”

Quietly, Henry asked, “It depends on how much you hate grandpapa.”

David sighed as he watched Henry glare at him. He knew if he said the wrong thing, he would lose Henry for good, but he refused to lie.

“I’m not fond of him,” David replied, swallowing, “He’s the reason that I was separated from my family.”

Henry shook his head, “Not the only reason. Mom cast the Dark Curse. Grandpapa didn’t make her. She did it willingly.”

Begrudgingly, David said, “You're right.”

“So why forgive her, but not him?” Henry asked quietly.

David swallowed and looked away. He wasn’t sure why, but he was leery around the Dark One. Even after everything that had happened with Pan and Zelena, he felt no loyalty to him. Regina was just as much, if not more, at fault for his misfortunes and yet he chose to lay it all at Rumplestilskin’s feet.

Quietly, David said, “He’s not……like us.”

“No,” Henry agreed, his voice dripping with disappointment, “He’s always been different.”

David looked at Henry and felt guilty. The boy looked so upset and David hated to be the cause of it.

“I could have probably learned to get along with Rumplestilskin,” David replied carefully, “before he tried to kill Hook and trap Emma in that hat.”

Henry shook his head, “And yet you didn’t.”

“No,” David agreed, “I didn’t.”

“Yet you're fine with spending time with a child-snatching pirate,” Henry snapped frustrated, “and the Evil Queen.”

David frowned, stubborn in his conviction that Rumpelstilskin was the problem, “He tried to hurt my daughter Henry.”

“Mom tried to kill her,” Henry pointed out, “Hook too.”

David pressed his lips together in frustration. It wasn’t the same, but he knew he wouldn't be able to convince Henry of that.

Henry chuckled mirthlessly and said, “Nevermind grandpa.”

“Go to your room, young man,” David commanded, disliking Henry’s tone.

“Fine,” Henry said, his voice turning mocking, “But when you're tired of cleaning up everyone else's mess, let me know. I have a few ideas on how to fix it.”

Then Henry turned and sauntered up the stairs, desperately clinging to his confidence until he could make it to his room and have a good cry. David watched Henry leave and felt his stomach twist. He had a bad feeling about the direction of his and Henry’s relationship. All because of Rumpelstiltskin. Couldn’t Henry see the monster wasn’t worth it?

Sighing, David ran his fingers through his hair. He really hated Rumpelstiltskin. Even when he wasn’t around, he was still a thorn in his side.

Belle swallowed back nausea as she left the pawn shop and hurried to open the library. Her head was throbbing and her stomach was rolling, but she wasn’t going to submit to her hangover. That would be admitting her husband was right about something, which she refused to do.

What she couldn’t understand was why she was so jealous of Rumpelstiltskin’s new “friend”. She was seeing someone else and the relationship seemed promising. She knew it was soon after their separation, but she had never just dated a man before. She was enjoying the novelty.

Still, she had been getting strange looks from people. She knew it was because she gave Will a job running the pawnshop. It looked like she had seemingly replaced her husband with her boyfriend. Yet, she convinced herself it was more out of necessity than replacement. While she found herself enamored of Will, she wondered whether it was love. Until she knew for certain, she wasn’t changing her routine.

Of course, her uncertainty about Will was only growing the more she thought about Rumpelstiltskin. Their marriage wasn’t supposed to be like this; seemingly over before it started. They were supposed to be True Love and each other’s Happy Endings. Now, all she felt was frustration, jealousy, and anger.

Sliding her hand into her purse she gripped the dagger and thought about calling her husband. She didn’t know if it would work with the magical barrier surrounding Storybrooke, but she was tempted to find out. She was so angry with him. While she knew it would hurt him to see her with Will, she felt grim satisfaction at the idea that he would be jealous. That he would be forced to watch as she was happy elsewhere.

That he would be punished.

Realizing the direction of her thoughts, Belle quickly pulled her hand from the dagger. Horrified, she began walking faster, jogging the last little bit to the library. As she fumbled for her key, she couldn’t help but wonder what she’d been thinking. Finally getting the door open, Belle walked inside and forced herself to focus on the library. She refused to dwell on her darker impulses. She refused to become Lacey.

Across the street, Cogsworth winced as Mrs. Gold slipped her hand into her purse. Seeing the spiteful look that graced her normally friendly features, he sighed in disappointment. It was as he feared, the dagger was corrupting her.

He often watched Belle. Her insistence on carrying the dagger around like a trophy put her in danger and he knew his master would be upset should something happen to her or his dagger. He couldn’t decide if she was brave, stupid, or thoughtless. She needed to put the dagger somewhere safe, yet she couldn’t seem to part with it.

There had been a few opportunities to steal it, but he stopped himself every time, frightened of what he would become should the dagger dig its claws into him. Rumpelstiltskin had often said the dagger held an influence over those who tried to wield it. That slowly, it corrupted them. There was a price to enslavement for both the slave and the slaver and Cogsworth was leery about paying it.

Would he be better or worse than Belle? Would the dagger goad him into killing his master? Or would it push Cogsworth into enslaving him? He wasn’t a good man and he knew that if Belle could be corrupted by the dagger, then he too would fall prey.

Therefore, Cogsworth did the only thing he could. He continued watching. He made sure that nobody else tried to steal the dagger and he kept trying to call Rumpelstiltskin.. All there was to do was bide his time and remain observant.

Luckily, Cogsworth was a patient man.

London

Rumpelstiltskin was starting to regret that he had ever allowed Harriet to pick the movies. She had warned him about the genre, but he hadn’t thought it would bother him.

He’d been wrong.

“Can we watch something else?” Rumple pleaded after the third movie.

“Why?”

“I’m about to go through a divorce, dear,” Rumple replied, his voice flat, “I don’t really want to watch people get their happy endings.”

“Oh,” Harriet said quietly, biting her lip, “I’m sorry…..I didn’t even think.”

“I honestly didn’t think it would bother me,” Rumple replied, his voice tired, “but it does.”

Which annoyed Rumple. How was it that despite his increasing attraction to Harriet, he was still heartbroken over Belle? How was it even possible that he was so split down the middle? Just this morning he had contemplated seducing Harriet and now he was sitting beside her, morse over his cheating wife. Why was he so fickle all of a sudden? He’d never been before. Once he trusted someone, he was disgustingly loyal.

Maybe that was the problem?

In the Enchanted Forest, Belle had been caring, kind, and sure of who she was. Rumple had admired her for it and slowly began to fall in love. Trust followed love and soon he was certain that she would never hurt him.

Except she had, over and over again. With every insistence that he could be better, she let him know he wasn’t good enough. With every scolding, he felt the need to hide more of himself from her. He cringed whenever she found out something new about his past because he knew she would be upset. He wasn’t proud of what he’d done, but it happened. He could no more change his ill deeds, then he could move the stars. He didn’t expect her to be happy about them, but he had thought she would give him some grace.

How had he fooled himself so thoroughly?

“She would have broken the curse,” Rumple thought desperately to himself. Yet how was that possible if he wasn’t actually cursed?

“You’re overthinking this,” The Darkness snapped.

“I’m confused,” Rumple growled, “and you don’t know anymore than me!”

The Darkness refused to say more and Rumplestiltskin was once again alone with his thoughts.

Harriet watched as Rumple stared ahead, not even blinking, and sighed. He was retreating into his mind again.

“What do you want to watch next?” Harriet asked, trying to regain his attention,“I’ve always liked Phantom of the Opera.”

Rumple growled, “Doesn’t he get passed over for a young rich Viscount?”

Harriet grimaced, “Yes, but the Phantom was stalking her so…..”

Rumple just glared at her. Sighing, she said, “Well……I don’t think you want to watch Beauty and the Beast, Rum.”

“Do you have anything other than romance?”

Harriet winced and shook her head and Rumple sighed in irritation. She didn’t watch movies often, but when she did it was always romance. It helped fill the longing for love in her life.

“What else can we do?” Harriet asked, twirling her hair with her finger and biting her lip. Rumple looked over at her and fought the urge to pull her into his arms. She looked adorable in her uncertainty.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, “Let’s go back to the Forbidden Forest.”

Harriet made a face, “I don’t want to hike.”

“Then I’m out of ideas.”

“Let’s go to Honeydukes,” Harriet exclaimed, excitedly shaking his arm, “That could be fun!.”

“Aberforth will recognize me,” Rumple muttered, ignoring her, “If he’s still alive.”

Harriet deflated and leaned her head back, “He is.”

“Next idea,” Rumple muttered.

“Well…..” Harriet said as a slow grin began to spread across her face, “We could steal your wand?”

Rumple sat up and looked at Harriet, excitedly,“ You’re serious?”

Harriet shrugged, “Sure, why not?

Rumple frowned, “You’re very nonchalant about stealing from the Ministry.”

Harriet laughed bitterly, “They’re no better than the death eaters they trained me to hunt. Forgive me if I’m not broken-hearted about it.”

Rumple frowned, “ What do you mean?”

Harriet looked confused for a moment but then realization crossed her face, “ Oh, right…..you don’t know.”

She then launched into a very detailed explanation about what had happened in the last twelve years with the magical creatures and half-bloods. Rumple stared at her in horrified fascination.

“It doesn’t sound like your side won the war, Beauty,” Rumple muttered.

“No,” Harriet replied, her voice regretful, “It doesn’t, does it?”

“It sounds like the worst of my death eaters took over.” Rumple muttered regretfully.

“Or Dolores Umbridge.”

Rumple made a face, "She’s who I was speaking of.”

Harriet and Rumple glanced at each other and then shivered in unison.

“I hated that witch,” Rumple muttered, “She refused to shut up about the werewolves and vampires that sided with us. No matter how many times I threatened to torture her.”

“Well at least you didn’t have to deal with her fucking blood quill.” Harriet snapped, causing Rumple to frown.

“Excuse me?” Rumple growled.

“She used a blood quill on us for detention,” Harriet sneered, raising her right hand, “and guess who had the most detentions with her?”

Rumple didn’t see anything at first, but then the glamor Harriet used to hide her scar fell, and Rumple gasped. “I will not tell lies” was written across the back of her hand in a lovely flowing script. It was faded, but still legible. Gently, Rumple took her hand and ran his finger across the scar. Harriet grimaced.

“Does it hurt?” Rumple asked quietly, afraid he had been hurting her unknowingly.

“No,” Harriet replied dully, “It doesn’t hurt anymore, I just hate seeing it.”

“Do you constantly use a glamor?” Rumple frowned, his eyes never leaving her hand.

“Lately I have.”

“You’re over using your magic Beauty,” Rumple scolded, “You’re too run-down to maintain spells like this.”

“I know,” Harriet replied, running her fingers through her hair in irritation, “It’s just……a trigger, Rum.”

“For your drinking?”

Harriet nodded helplessly. His face softening, Rumple brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed her scar, his eyes never leaving hers. It surprised him that he never noticed the glamor, but Harriet was a talented witch. If anyone could get something past him, it would be her.

Harriet’s eyes lingered on his until she began to feel a tingle. Frowning, she pulled her hand away and gasped when she saw the scar had become unreadable. Tears began to gather in the corners of her eyes as she stared at her hand.

“I wish I could make them go away completely,” Rumple said tenderly, "but blood quills are cursed objects and you’ve had this scar for a long time.”

Harriet sniffed and looked from her hand to Rumple. With tears in her eyes, she launched herself at him and he enveloped her into a hug. When her shoulders began to shake, Rumple began humming quietly into her ear, running his fingers down her back.

“Thank you,” Harriet whispered, pulling back slightly so she could see his face. Rumple swallowed and wordlessly nodded. She was so close, just a dip of his head and their lips would touch. Unconsciously, Harriet liked her lips and Rumple barely stifled a groan. His eyes began to dilate, and he was a second from recklessly kissing her, when his phone began to ring.

Stifling an irritated growl, he pulled away and quickly answered it.

“Hey Grandpapa,” Henry sniffed.

“What’s wrong lad?” Rumple asked, all desire evaporated at Henry’s tone. He hated how unhappy Henry was of late.

“Grandpa,” Henry replied with a frown, “He doesn’t like you.”

“No David doesn’t,” Rumple agreed with a grimace, “But why does that bother you?”

“I just wish everyone would stop comparing me to you whenever I do something they don’t like!” Henry burst out and Rumple winced.

“They do that?” Rumple asked quietly, wincing.

“Yes,” Henry whispered, “I’m sorry grandpapa, but they do it all the time.”

Rumple just sighed. “It’s how they view me, Henry.” Swallowing, he said, “And I don’t blame them. I haven’t shown them my best over the years.”

“Bullshit,” Henry snapped. Rumple was about to scold him for cussing when Henry cut him off, “You helped save me from Pan and you sacrificed yourself to save this stupid town!”

“Henry,” Rumple began, “That doesn’t matter to them lad. I’ve done too much for them to believe I can ever be redeemed.”

“I hate it,” Henry replied, his voice dripping with frustration.

“I don’t like it either,” Rumple agreed with frustration of his own.

Suddenly Henry became very quiet and whispered, “I got to go before grandpa finds out I’m talking to you……” Then he whispered, “Call Mr. Cogsworth.”

The line went dead, and Rumple sighed. He enjoyed speaking to his grandson but hated that he couldn’t be there for him. The young boy was going through more than any child had to bear, yet nobody in his family seemed willing to offer him any guidance.

“Don’t worry Rum,” Harriet said, taking his hand and squeezing it, “We’ll be there with him soon.”

Rumple just nodded, not as convinced as she was. Their discussion about Zelena had made him even more paranoid about the dagger. Not that he thought Harriet would hurt him like Zelena had, but what if she betrayed him some other way? She had the potential to hurt him worse than anyone he’d ever known. He didn’t think he could function if she betrayed him.

Quite frankly he was frightened.

“Like you wouldn’t mind if she used us as her fuck….” The Darkness began, but Rumple just pushed its venom to the back of his mind. He wasn’t even going to entertain the idea that he would be okay with that type of relationship with Harriet. There was no doubt he desired her, but he also wanted her friendship, her loyalty, and her forgiveness. No matter how tempting she felt in his arms, he refused to take anything less than her love. Which was something he was sure she would never give and even if she did, did he really want it? Or was it a side effect from the horcruxes?

Until he could answer that, he had no right to speculate

Patting her hand, Rumple stood and looked at his phone, “I need to call Cogsworth.”

“Cogsworth?” Harriet asked, perplexed, “Like the movie?”

“Yes,” Rumple replied with a smirk, “Like the movie.”

“Was there a Mrs. Potts and Lumire too?” Harriet asked teasingly, but then frowned when she saw the sadness in Rumple’s eyes.

“Just Cogsworth. Mrs. Potts left my employ some time ago and I’m not sure what happened to Lumiere.”

“Oh,” Harriet’s smile faded, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Rumple just nodded and walked into the kitchenette. Dialing Cogsworth’s number he listened to it ring before he answered.

“Sir?” Cogsworths asked, his voice guarded.

“Ah, Cogsworth,” Rumple replied, wincing at how restrained Cogsworths sounded. He hadn’t taken that tone with him since he first started working for him.

“Are you alright sir?” Cogsworth asked and Rumple could hear worry in his voice despite his obvious upset.

“I’m fine,” Rumple replied with real affection, “After a fashion.”

“Sir?”

“I wasn’t myself for quite some time,” Rumple replied quietly, “I’ve only recently come back to myself.”

Cogsworth was quiet for a moment, “Tell me where you are sir and I’ll come and pick you up.”

“I’m in England,” Rumple replied, smiling fondly, “And I’m perfectly safe right now. I’m staying with a friend.”

“A friend sir?” Cogsworth echoed, “But who do you know in the Land Without Magic?”

“Land of Hidden Magic,” Rumpelstiltskin corrected, “This world isn’t without its magic Dove. It’s a land I’ve been to before.”

“Sir?” Cogsworth replied, his voice uncertain but Rumple cut him off, “It’s a lot to explain and I’ve only recently remembered most of it. Ask Henry. He will tell you.”

“Yes sir,” Cogsworth said. Quietly he continued, “I have been spying on Mrs. Gold sir.”

“Have you?” Rumple said, his voice tight and Harriet looked at him in alarm, “I know about her affair.”

“Yes I had heard sir,” Cogsworth replied, an edge to his voice and Rumple winced. He should have called Cogsworth sooner, “But I am speaking about your dagger sir. She is carrying it around in her bag. Micheal tried to convince her to give it to him, but she refused.”

Rumple sighed, “Has there been an opportunity to steal it?”

“There has,” Cogsworth confirmed, “But ... .I'm afraid of it. The dagger seems to be a corrupting influence on her and…. what would it do to me sir?”

Rumple’s face fell. Finally, he asked softly, “She’s that bad?”

“I wonder if it isn't’ responsible for her affair sir.” Cogsworth replied.

“I don’t care if it is,” Rumple snarled, his hurt feelings flaming his anger, "She shouldn’t have been carrying the thing around!”

Harriet stood and reached her hand out for the phone. Frowning, Rumple nodded and handed it to her.

“Hello? Mr. Cogsworth?” Harriet asked, there was only heavy breathing on the phone and then a man’s voice asked, “Who are you?”

“I’m Rumple’s friend,” Harriet replied with a smile, “Beauty. I was thinking about the dagger.”

“Oh?” Cogsworth said, his voice even more guarded than before.

“Yes,” Harriet replied cheerfully, ignoring how unfriendly Cogsworth was, “And I was wondering if you could possibly get your hands on a lead lined vault of some kind?”

“A vault Ms. Beauty?” Cogsworth echoed, bewildered.

“Yes,” Harriet replied, smiling conspiratorially at Rumple, who looked confused, “I think it would be best if we buried that dagger where no one can find it.”

Cogsworth said nothing for a moment and then, “Yes ma'am.”

“Good,” Harriet chirped happily, “Here’s Rum.” Then she handed the phone back to Rumple, who smirked at her.

“Cogsworth?” Rumple asked.

“Yes sir,” Cogsworth replied, a smile in his voice.

“I think Beauty might have the right idea,” Rumple said quietly.

“I’ll have one commissioned sir,” Cogsworth replied, “I’ll call you when it's ready.”

“Thank you Cogsworth,” Rumple replied, “And I’ll contact Henry.”

“I think Mr. Mills may be afraid of me sir,” Cogsworth muttered embarrassedly and then bid his employer a respectful goodbye.

Rumple put his phone back in his pocket and looked at Harriet, “Do you really want to give up the power of the dagger?”

“Power of the dagger?” Harriet asked, perplexed, “Does it do more than control you?”

“No,” Rumple replied quietly.

“I’ll not enslave you Rumple,” Harriet replied quietly, “I’ll not hurt you like that.”

They stared at each other for a moment, until Harriet took a step forward and cupped his cheek, “How could you think me so cruel after what you confided in me?”

“I….” Rumple whispered, leaning into her hand. Harriet’s breath caught but she forced herself to react normally. He’d been rather affectionate today, but they had also learned vulnerable information about each other. They both needed reassurance and she refused to let her imagination run wild because of it. She would not allow her emotions to overtake her. She refused to be caught up. For once, she was going to think before she acted.

Pulling away she turned to grab her shoes and asked, “Do you still want your wand?”

Rumple cleared his throat and nodded. Faintly he said, “Of course.”

“Then hurry up and let’s shove off!” Harriet replied, looking at the kitchenette clock, “It’ll be better to steal it during lunch.”

“Let me grab a stick to transfigure,” Rumple muttered as he quickly exited the apartment for the gardens. Harriet frowned as she contemplated the backdoor. It had been years since she used it, preferring to give Teddy and Remus their privacy. The only reason she kept the backdoor at all was because she felt claustrophobic without it.

Rumple quickly limped back into the apartment, a mischievous smile on his lips as he held up a stick, “This will do. It’s even the same wood as the wand.”

“Good,” Harriet smiled in satisfaction, “It’ll be harder to change back.”

With a flourish, Rumple turned the stick into a perfect copy of his wand. Smirking he asked, “Who said they would be able to transfigure it back?”

Harriet giggled and ushered him out of the apartment. Quickly she crossed the foyer and unlocked the invisible door, ushering Rumple inside. The door sealed itself behind him.

“Now,” Harriet said, a mischievous smile of her own., “Let’s see what trouble we can get into.”

Rumple smirked as he watched Harriet saunter down the stairs, eyes wandering to her backside. She was the complete package, beauty, brains, and brawn. What more could he ask for in a woman?

Unfortunately, his mind then wandered to Belle, and he thought about Cogsworth speculations. Could his dagger have something to do with Belle’s infidelity? All horcruxes were a corrupting influence and he had long speculated that the dagger worked the same way. Could he really blame Belle for what the dagger encouraged her to do?

And If so, what did that mean for his marriage? Of his friendship with Harriet?

Grimacing Rumple followed Harriet down the stairs, once again conflicted about what his heart truly wanted.

Chapter Text

Storybrooke

Emma watched impassively as Archie paced the length of her office. She felt her stomach twist at seeing the usually calm psychiatrist upset, but she refused to acknowledge her feelings. Therein lay thoughts she wasn’t comfortable having for someone like Archie. Good, kind, stable Archie; she should only ever think of him as a friend.

Not that she’d been a very good friend to him. Her life had become so busy and chaotic that she only now realized how little she’d seen him. When she’d first come to Storybrooke, he’d been one of the few people that had treated her kindly and she felt awful at the distance between them. With work, family, and Killian distracting her, she didn’t seem to have much attention for anyone else.

Except Regina, but then the mayor demanded her attention 24/7, even with Robin and Roland back from New York. She was obsessed with the idea that Rumpelstiltskin was going to take away her Happy Ending. Robin had tried to reason with her, but Regina would not be dissuaded. Emma feared that her obsession with Rumpelstiltskin would one day become just as dangerous as the one for Snow White had.

“Don’t you see that this is a cry for attention?” Archie demanded, but then stopped when he realized Emma wasn’t giving him her own.

“Sheriff,” Archie said, an edge to his voice, “Are you even listening to me?”

“I’m sorry Archie,” Emma rubbed her tired eyes, “I’m just tired.”

“Too tired to care about your child?” Archie asked, his voice taunting.

Emma’s jaw dropped. She sat there, like a fish out of water, for a moment before she exploded to her feet, “How dare you?”

“How dare I?” Archie growled as he placed his hands on her desk. Leaning forward he snapped, “I dare because I’m worried about Henry.”

He straightened and took a step back. Looking anywhere but at her he snarled, “It’s a pity you don’t”

Then he turned on his heel to leave, but Emma yelled, “Archie!”

He stopped, looked over his shoulder, and quietly asked, “Yes?”

Emma wanted to apologize for upsetting him, yet something dark and ugly inside her refused. Stealing herself, she snapped, “I don’t appreciate you questioning my concern for Henry. Do it again and he stops seeing you.”

A shadow passed across Archie’s face, making Emma clench her jaw. Why couldn’t she allow herself to be vulnerable with him? She had just a few short years ago, yet so much had happened since to harden her heart.

Archie nodded stiffly and angrily left the police station. Emma watched from her office window as he aggressively opened his car door. She winced when she saw him catch his hand in the door. She turned to grab the first aid kit, when she heard the car start. Turning back toward the window, she watched as Archie aggressively pulled out of the parking lot.

Sighing, Emma plopped into her seat and put her head in her hands. What was wrong with her that she could induce the normally mild mannered conscience into losing his temper? She liked Archie, so why had she spoken to him the way she had?

Why was she going out of her way to ignore him? To push him away?

Was it because he didn’t like Killian? Thinking over the past few months, she was startled to realize that she’d been distancing herself from people that didn’t like Hook. What she couldn’t understand was why?

Archie had every reason to dislike him. So why was she upset about it?

Leaning back in her chair, Emma closed her eyes and tried to understand her muddled feelings for Archie. She wanted to show him that he was valued for more than his good advice, but she tended to avoid him whenever she could.

What was she afraid of?

Overwhelmed, Emma stood and decided to take a drive. She was technically supposed to stay and answer the phones until they could find a secretary to replace Ruby, but she couldn’t sit still. Her mind wouldn’t focus on her reports and she was starting to move past overwhelmed into hysterical.

She was supposed to be the Savior, but it was becoming clear that whatever she was doing, wasn’t good enough. Breaking the Dark Curse wasn’t enough to give everyone their Happy Endings. More was required from the Savior, except Emma had no idea what the next steps were.

She could have asked Rumpelstiltskin. She had his number, but she was still extremely angry with him for trying to trick her into the Sorcerer's Hat. She had thought they were family. That in some weird way he had her back. They both grieved Neal and she was the mother of his grandson, yet he'd betrayed her.

Aggravated, Emma stomped out of the police station just as the phone began to ring.

Archie sped out of the parking lot and honked at three cars before he admitted to himself that he shouldn’t be driving. Begrudgingly, he pulled onto the side of the road and leaned his head against the steering wheel.

He wasn’t one to throw a tantrum. Despite his upbringing, he was a fairly well adjusted person. However, lately his temper had been getting the best of him when it came to Emma.

He shouldn’t be angry with her. It was obvious that she was struggling. Yet, every time he tried to speak with her about it, she refused to engage with him. They used to be friends, or at least friendly, yet ever since she’d started dating Hook her personality had changed.

He wasn’t sure he even liked her anymore.

Wincing at his own truthfulness, Archie smacked the dash with his injured hand and yelped. Looking at the damage, he reached for his glove box and took out his first aid kit to clean and bandage the cut. Wincing as he flexed his fingers, he was relieved that nothing was broken.

Leaning his head back against the headrest, he sighed at his own reaction to Emma’s inattention. He knew she loved Henry. Yet lately, she’d been ignoring Henry’s issues and that infuriated Archie.

Today was just one time too many.

He had only wanted to find the Ice Queen’s scroll. He knew it had to be in her office and he’d used a flimsy excuse to invade her space. He hadn’t accounted for actually becoming upset with her.

Gritting his teeth, he took off his glasses and pushed his fingers against his eyes. Taking a deep breath, Archie slowly let it out. Looking at the time, he calmly put his glasses back on and started the engine.

He had to meet Ruby in less than an hour.

His argument with Emma had been less than ideal, yet despite his anger, he had seen a locked cabinet in her office. One that glowed suspiciously like magic. He was sure nobody else had noticed the magical glow, least of all Emma, or she would have relocated the scroll.

Looking behind him, he eased onto the road and began driving toward his office. There was still much to do before they could move forward, but it was a step in the right direction. A progression toward their actual plan. For the first time in days, he felt like they might actually succeed in helping the town. Smiling to himself, he pulled into his parking space and headed into his office.

He didn’t notice Emma watching from Granny’s doorway, confused as to Archie’s sudden change in mood.

London

Harriet bit her lip as she evaluated the magic that surrounded Voldemort’s wand. Luckily, the wards she’d placed were fully intact with no evidence of tampering. It would be easier to steal than she’d imagined.

“Well….” Rumple muttered as he watched Harriet walk around the case, “Are we just going to stare at it?”

“Give me a minute, smartarse.” Harriet replied exasperatedly. She was peering into the glass, looking at it from various angles and moving her wand in complicated patterns. “I’m checking to see if any additional wards were placed. We don’t want to make it obvious that someone has tampered with it.”

Rumple nodded impatiently and kept his eyes trained on his wand. He could feel the Darkness squirming inside him, excited at the prospect of finally having their wand back.

“Got it!” Harriet exclaimed as she felt the wards fall. Quickly, she opened the case and grabbed Rumple’s wand; making sure to replace it with the fake. Shoving the wand at him, she quickly remade the wards.

Smiling to himself, he lovingly ran his fingers down the length of the wand and sighed in relief at finally having it back in his possession. He hadn’t realized, until that moment, how incomplete he’d felt without it.

“Come on,” Harriet tugged on his arm, a cheeky grin on her face, “You can fondle your wand after we get out of here.”

Rumple half heartedly glared at her before chuckling to himself as he followed her out of the library. Closing the door, Harriet sighed as she leaned against it. Looking around at the magical room, her shoulders slumped and her face fell. Mournfully she said, “We’re going to have to destroy it.”

“Why?” Rumple asked, startled at how prettily she pouted. He felt the Darkness’ exasperation, but he simply chose to ignore it. He already felt bad for his feelings, he didn't need his evil counterpart adding to his guilt.

“I don’t think they’ll notice the wand change,” Harriet replied, biting her bottom lip, “but in case they do, it would be better if this door didn’t exist.”

“True,” Rumple nodded, looking around regretfully, “If they are talented enough, they could trace the magic. No matter how well hidden.”

Sighing, Harriet trudged up the stairs while Rumple slowly followed. He was fiddling with his wand, trying to get the feel for it back. It had been such a long time since he used one; he hoped he hadn’t lost the knack for it.

When they reached the landing, Harriet hurried Rumple out the door and looked at what she created.

“I’m so proud of it.”

“You should be,” Rumple replied, looking over her shoulder, “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s amazing what I can do when I’m spiteful,” Harriet muttered before reaching toward the closed panel beside the door. Opening it, she pressed the red button that was inside and quickly pushed Rumple back so she could shut the door. It glowed brightly, shook on its hinges, and then disappeared with a loud pop.

Silence descended in the foyer as Rumple stared at the wall in dumbstruck horror, "Did you install a self-destruct button?”

Despite fully remembering every chaotic way she ruined his plans, he was still surprised by the things she continually came up with. Her capacity for chaos was downright frightening.

“It seemed like the best way of destroying it quickly.”

She grinned at Rumple who stared back at her, “You are a menace.”

Harriet shrugged, “That’s fair.”

Rolling his eyes, Rumple grumbled to himself while Harriet laughed as they entered her apartment. Closing the door, she gave Rumple a mischievous smile and he found himself responding in kind, but before either could say anything they were interrupted by a loud knock. Huffing, Harriet frowned and opened the door.

“Yes?” Harriet asked, unsurprised to see Remus.

Rumple stiffened when he saw the wolf, but walked away from the door to give them space. He wasn’t going to have Remus claim he was possessive of Harriet.

“It might be better if you were,” The Darkness hissed.

“Could I speak with you for a moment?” Remus asked while glancing suspiciously at Rumple. Harriet sighed and nodded, not wanting to deal with Remus more than she had to. Following him to the foyer she firmly closed the door behind her.

“What is it?” Harriet asked, crossing her arms uncomfortably.

“Was that an explosion?” Remus looked around the foyer, “ I felt the building shake.”

“ I had a potion that blew-up” Harriet shrugged, not meeting Remus’ eyes.

“Bollocks,” Remus muttered but then his shoulders dropped, and his voice became strained and worried, "Is he really staying here?”

“Yes,” Harriet frowned, “I believe this was already discussed, Remus.”

“I just don't understand,” Remus quietly replied, “He murdered Lily and James.”

Harriet closed her eyes and turned her face away.

“Don’t you care how ashamed of you they would be?” Remus desperately asked.

Harriet’s head whipped around and she glared; something like hate in her eyes. Remus swallowed audibly, his eyes wide.

“I’m aware,” Harriet replied tightly, “That Rumple and I are dealing with unusual circumstances. I would hope they would take that into account.”

Turning away from him she began to open the door when Remus grabbed her wrist. Pulling away rather forcefully, she glared at Remus as she crossed her arms tightly against her chest.

“After our last kiss….” Remus reached out and lightly touched the back of Harriet’s hand, hoping it would soften her. Her glare only intensified. Pulling away, Remus began to look embarrassed, “I was rather forceful.”

“I was fine until you wouldn’t back off.” Harriet replied uncomfortably.

“I should have realized it was too much,” Remus sighed, his eyes unfocused, “ I was just so….jealous.”

“Don’t,” Harriet snapped, pulling Remus out of his revere, “You don’t get to say my parents would be ashamed and then hit on me.”

“I wasn’t…” Remus spluttered but Harriet rolled her eyes and opened her door.

“Yeah, you were.” Harriet sneered as she walked back into her apartment. Then she slammed the door in his surprised face with a loud “Sod off!”

Locking it, she leaned her forehead against the door and listened as Remus stomped away. Sighing, Harriet pushed herself away from the door and turned to find the living room empty. Frowning, Harriet glanced at the bathroom.

Rumple had to stop hiding there.

Surveying her apartment, it suddenly struck her there was an incredibly simple solution to the problem. Feeling foolish for not thinking of it before, Harriet took her wand out of its sheath and began grinning at the empty wall behind her couch.

A very simple solution indeed.

Rumple felt the bottom fall out of his stomach as he watched Harriet leave the apartment. He wasn’t sure why he had such a visceral reaction to Remus, but the very idea of Harriet being alone with him made his skin crawl.

“Of course it does,” the Darkness hissed, “She’s ours.”

Feeling uneasy, Rumple dashed into the bathroom and leaned over the sink. He felt his breathing quicken as his jealousy rose, “I’m married.”

He closed his eyes and muttered the words to himself like a mantra, “I’m married, I’m married, I’m married, I’m married…..”

“Yes but for how long dearie?” The Darkness hissed and Rumple curled his hands into fists.

“The dagger is corrupting Belle,” Rumple growled. Opening his eyes, he pulled back abruptly when he saw the red tinge in them.

“Who cares?” The Darkness sneered, “She shouldn’t have been carrying it in the first place.”

“Why did we give it to her?” Rumple muttered, frustrated with himself. He wanted to pace but the bathroom was too small and it was beginning to feel confining.

“There was no WE,” The Darkness hissed, “There was you! You wanted to prove that she was our True Love. You wanted her to save us.”

Rumple looked away from the mirror as the Darkness sneered, “I told you it was a bad idea, but you wouldn’t listen!”

“I thought you were trying to keep us apart!” Rumple hissed, glaring at himself in the mirror.

The Darkness said nothing in return. Upset, Rumple sat on the lid of the toilet and put his head in his hands, “I did this to her.”

“Yes,” The Darkness agreed.

“If the dagger has influenced her into an affair, we should forgive her.”

“She would never accept us,” The Darkness warned and then fell silent.

Rumple winced. If his attempted murder of Hook pushed Belle into banishing him, then learning about his past as Lord Voldemort would surely invoke divorce proceedings.

It would be best if he ended it now.

Looking at his phone, Rumple almost pressed Dove’s number. He could have the paperwork written, reviewed, and sent to Belle in two days. Yet…. he was loath to do it. There would be no resolution between them. Just papers signed. No discussion or closure.

Could their story really end like that?

He sat there staring at his phone, paralyzed with indecision, before he finally gave up in frustration. Shoving his phone back into his pocket, Rumple stormed out of the bathroom, but abruptly stopped when he noticed the change in the living room. His spinning wheel was gone and in its place was the couch. Where the couch should have been, there was now a doorway. Wand at the ready, Rumple quietly walked toward the door and pushed it open.

“Hey Rum!” Harriet excitedly exclaimed. She spun around the room, arms extended, with a happy grin on her face.

“What in the world?” Rumple asked as he lowered his wand and looked around. The room wasn’t much larger than Harriet’s bedroom, but the bay windows made the room feel more spacious. The navy-blue walls helped to dampen the natural light streaming from the windows and the gold trim brought a touch of whimsy that Rumple appreciated.

How long had he been in the bathroom?

“I wanted you to have your own space,” Harriet replied, bounding toward him. She was bouncing on her toes, and he felt his face soften at her obvious excitement.

“Did you?” Rumple’s voice was soft and the smile that spread across his face was gentle. His eyes sparkled and Harriet felt her heart skip a beat.

“I did,” Harriet confirmed, even though she knew his question was rhetorical. She suddenly grew bashful and began moving her toes across the floor. Rumple gently took her chin in between his fingers and tilted her head to look at him. Her emerald eyes glittered in the light and Rumple felt his breath catch.

“Thank you.”

“Everyone needs a place that’s just their own.”

Rumple let go of her chin and stepped back, “It’s perfect.”

The colors were different than what he would have chosen, but he liked how they felt both opulent and cozy. It reminded him somewhat of the Dark Castle.

“The room is yours,” Harriet took Rumple’s hand and squeezed it, “For as long as you need it.”

Their eyes locked and he found himself tucking a stray hair behind her ear. Playfully he asked, “And what if I never want to leave?”

Smiling warmly, Harriet replied, “Who said you had to?”

“I can’t stay here forever,” Rumple whispered, his smile dimming.

“I suppose not,” Harriet deflated somewhat, “But for now. It’s yours.”

“Thank you my Beauty,” Rumple bent down and gently kissed her cheek.

Harriet stiffened for only the briefest of moments, but Rumple felt it. Hiding his embarrassment, he walked toward his spinning wheel and sat down. Guardedly he said, “If you don’t mind dearie, I think I’ll spin for a while.”

“Of course,” Harriet bit her lip in nervousness, “Call if you need anything.”

Rumple just nodded absently, already deep in thought as his hands moved expertly along the wheel.

Frowning, Harriet backed out of the room and quietly shut the door. Tears pricked the corner of her eyes as she touched the cheek Rumple had kissed. She knew it was silly to be upset that he wanted privacy, having created the room for that purpose. However, his mood change was so abrupt that she found herself feeling unsteady.

Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the remote and decided to watch Beauty and the Beast. Despite her hurt feelings she felt enjoyably tired; like she’d been working out instead of recovering from an illness. For once, she didn’t feel useless.

Placing the movie in the DVD player, she grabbed the blanket and covered herself as she curled on the couch. She could feel Rumple’s churning emotions but refused to be distracted by them. Instead, she gave her full attention to the movie and felt his emotions recede to the back of her mind. Relieved, she laid her head on the back of the couch as Disney Belle began to sing.

Rumple spun, agitatedly, as his mind replayed Harriet’s reaction to his kiss. Intellectually, he knew she was surprised by his actions, yet his own feelings of worthlessness wanted to attribute her reaction to disgust. He knew if he allowed himself, he could easily fall into a maelstrom of guilt and shame. Yet, he refused.

He had absolutely no right to be upset and flustered by Harriet’s reaction. He was married and needed to focus on deciding exactly what to do with that marriage. Yet, the very nature of his relationship with Harriet contributed to his confusion. The more she welcomed him into her life, the more attached to her he became. It was inconceivable to Rumpelstiltskin that she wanted his friendship. Yet it was irrefutable that she did.

Nobody had welcomed him with such open arms before. Not even Belle.

Rumple’s spinning slowed as his mind wandered to his wife. While it was true he missed her, he was starting to realize that he missed what she represented more; a chance at defeating the Darkness within and becoming a better version of himself. There were many times with Belle that he thought he could do it. That by having her close and loving him, he could be a different man.

Now he knew that was impossible.

There was no hope for his marriage. The Darkness was right. Belle would never accept him. When she learned about his past, she would do everything in her power to divorce him and keep Henry from him. He was under no illusions when it came to Belle’s heroism.

Rumple snorted in disgust before he could stop himself. Her obsession with heroism was nonsensical. It had always been a point of contention between them. While she aspired to be a hero and beckon of light, Rumple held heroism in contempt.

Now, Rumple understood it wasn’t heroism itself that he was opposed to. It was Belle’s attempts at playing the hero that he hated. According to her, there was light and darkness and no in-between. Yet Harriet, who was the most heroic person he had ever met, thrived in the shades of gray that Belle refused to believe existed.

Harriet’s heroism was real. It was without pretension or duty. It simply existed as an extension of herself.

Belle tried too hard.

Rumple stopped spinning and hung his head. He really should have paid attention to all the red flags. Yet he’d idealized Belle for so long that once he had a chance to be with her, he took it, no matter how difficult it turned out to be.

In the Dark Castle, they had fallen into a rhythm. She had protested against his actions, he had adjusted some of his plans to protect her sensibilities, and they had gone about their lives, rarely leaving the Dark Castle. Over time they became familiar with each other and soon fell in love.

In Storybrooke, she had freedom. Giving Belle the library had been a way for her to be independent like she had always wanted. Yet it hadn’t seemed to work. Belle had become lost and soon obsessed over storybook ideas of heroism.

What did it say about their relationship that it only thrived when they were alone?

He knew it wasn’t all Belle’s fault. He could have made an appointment with Archie and worked on his issues, instead of trying to sever his ties to the dagger. He could have focused on building a relationship with Henry while coming to terms with his grief, despite believing that he hated him. He could have confided in Belle about Zelena, despite his fear. Rumple saw his past actions more clearly now, but he still wasn’t sure how he could have changed them. Not with the Darkness residing as a separate entity inside of him.

Agitated, Rumple began to pace. He was so sick of constantly feeling guilt and fear. Even as the Dark One he still couldn’t escape those emotions. Three hundred years of manipulation and hate and he was no closer to his goal then when he started.

With his boy gone, he was lost.

He needed a change. Something to signify this new unwanted chapter of his life. Pausing beside his spinning wheel, Rumple summoned an ornate gold mirror to hang on the back wall. Studying himself, he realized that once again, he was hiding behind a persona. He was no more Mr. Gold then he had been Lord Voldemort.

It occurred to him that he’d never just been himself. He’d always taken on the role that others cast for him. Even when he’d been Tom Riddle, he’d embraced the role others were sure he fit.

That of the villain.

Drumming his fingers against the wood of his spinning wheel, Rumpelstiltskin decided to do something drastic. Something he’d been unable to do as the Dark One in the Enchanted Forest. Summoning a pair of scissors Rumple took a deep breath, reminded himself that it would grow back, and began cutting his hair.

Harriet awoke abruptly, startled from sleep by knocking. Wiping drool from her mouth, she slowly sat up as Kreacher opened the door and allowed Hermione to enter.

“Where’s Ron?” Harriet asked, covering her mouth to yawn.

“We thought it safer to leave the children at home,” Hermione replied as she sat next to Harriet on the couch. Reaching out, Hermione felt her forehead with the back of her hand and frowned. It was far too warm.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Harriet replied with a tired smile, “ I actually feel a lot better.”

“Where’s Rumpelstiltskin?” Hermione asked carefully as she looked around Harriet’s small apartment. She frowned when she noticed the extra door.

“That wasn’t there yesterday.”

Harriet smiled sheepishly, “ I thought Rumple could have someplace to call his own while he’s here.”

Hermione frowned as she watched Harriet fidget, obviously embarrassed by her own thoughtfulness. However, before Hermione could comment on her friend's kindness, the new door abruptly opened revealing a changed Rumpelstiltskin. Harriet’s jaw dropped as she took in Rumple’s altered appearance.

“What did you do?”

“You don’t like it?” Rumple asked as he ran his fingers through his hair. Frowning, he said, “It was a rather abrupt decision on my part.”

“I….” Harriet began but trailed off as her mouth grew dry. She’d rather enjoyed the look of Rumple’s long hair, often itching to run her fingers through it. However, as she took in his new appearance, she couldn’t help but feel tongue tied and flustered. While the hair cut was extremely short, it brought out his eyes and highlighted his cheekbones while also giving him an air of self-possession and command.

Hermione watched with amused horror as Harriet tried to answer Rumpelstiltskin. Wincing at Harriet’s inability to speak, Rumple muttered, “That bad huh?”

Wanting to save her friend embarrassment, Hermione cut in, “No, it suits you.”

Turning to Harriet she asked, “Don’t you think so?”

“Of course,” Harriet finally ground out, blushing.

Rumple mumbled a thank you as he drug a kitchenette chair into the living room, desperately trying to hide his disappointment at Harriet’s reaction. He had to remind himself that he didn’t cut his hair for her, but for himself.

“How are the children?” Rumple asked, eager to change the subject.

“They’re okay,” Hermione stiffly replied, “Rose is a little jumpy, but doing quite well all things considered.” Pausing, Hermione looked at Rumple speculatively before she continued, “She was asking about you.”

“That’s kind,” Rumple smiled faintly, “She’s such a sweet girl.”

“She is,” Hermione agreed, “She seems quite taken with you. She doesn’t attach herself to people very often.”

“I’m honored then.” Rumple replied, a bittersweet smile gracing his features.

Hermione nodded, still suspicious of Rumple’s ability to charm her children, when Harriet burst out, “It brings out your eyes!’

Hermione barely refrained from facepalming as Harriet’s blush turned an even nastier shade of red. She was certain Rumpelstiltskin would be unimpressed by Harriet’s attempts at flattery, but was surprised when she saw how deeply the compliment affected him. His posture relaxed as his eyes softened and he smiled sheepishly, “Not horrible then?”

“No,” Harriet replied with a shy smile, “Not at all. Just different.”

Hermione wanted to shake Harriet. It was obvious her friend had a crush. While Harriet wasn’t one to dwell on romance, when she did have feelings for someone, the signs were obvious. She was shy, stammering, and awkward. She had been the same with Oliver Wood, Cedric Diggory, and Neville Longbottom. Due to the unique situation with Remus, it had taken Hermione longer to understand Harriet’s feelings. In hindsight, the signs had been there.

With Rumpelstiltskin, all of Harriet’s normal behaviors were heightened. At the same time, there was an aura of calmness around her that was startling. She was bustling, dramatic, loud, and curious, but hardly ever calm. Yet, she seemed to have an instinctive ability to balance Rumpelstiltskin's moods.

It was disconcerting.

Licking her lips in nervousness, Hermione cleared her throat to break the tension. She was uncomfortable with Harriet’s feelings. Rumpelstiltskin, no matter how changed, was a monster. Harriet deserved much better than him.

Rumpelstiltskin’s smile grew, “Good.”

Noticing Hermione’s growing uneasiness he decided to change the subject, “I suppose you have questions, Mrs. Weasley.”

Hermione cleared her throat again, “Of course.”

“Well then,” Rumple replied, turning toward her, “Ask.”

Hermione opened and closed her mouth for a moment before plowing forward, “I remember you said you didn’t know much. Maybe you should explain what you do know.”

“We only have speculations,” Rumpelstiltskin replied, “And the knowledge that souls can pass into different worlds upon death, despite time and space differences.”

“You have mentioned different worlds before,” Hermione replied, obviously curious, “What do you mean?”

“I mean just what I say,” Rumpelstiltskin replied with a sly smile, “Every fairytale you have ever heard is real and they have their own world.”

Hemione opened and closed her mouth before she asked, “So, there are just two worlds?”

“Oh no dearie,” Rumpelstiltskin replied as he leaned back with a smile, “There are quite a few of them”

“What are they?” Hermione asked, clearly fascinated.

Ticking off the worlds with his finger, Rumple began counting, “Well, there’s this world, The Land of Hidden Magic. Then there is Fairy Tale Land, Neverland, Oz, Land Without Color, and Wonderland. I’m sure there’s more, but I’ve not seen them.”

“That’s…. a lot,” Hermione finally said carefully, giving Rumpelstiltskin a strange look. She wasn’t sure she believed him. What he was saying was extremely far-fetched. Yet….it would account for how changed he was.

“Trust me,” Rumple replied with distaste, “I’ve dealt with Peter Pan and the Wicked Witch of the West personally. If I could make them just stories, I would.”

“And where are they now?” Hermione asked with a frown.

“Dead.” Rumpelstiltskin replied, his voice guarded.

Hermione looked between Harriet and Rumple, “You killed them?”

“Of course,” Rumple replied with a shrug, “Zelena killed my son and Peter Pan tried to murder my grandson.”

“Oh,” Hermione whispered. Silence descended on the living room, but was quickly broken by Kreacher bringing them tea and sandwiches.

“Thank you Kreacher,” Harriet smiled as Kreacher bowed and then disappeared into his room. She quickly grabbed one of the sandwiches and bit into it with relish. She was starving.

“Hungry?” Hermione asked, surprised. She smiled when she saw Harriet nod. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Rumple smile approvingly while making himself a cup of tea. She decided to join them.

“So,” Hermione began as she finally settled with her tea and sandwich, “What you’re saying is everything is complicated, nothing is known, and you're just winging it.”

“Exactly,” Harriet replied, beaming at her friend.

Hermione laughed, “It sounds like every school year we ever had.”

“Pretty much,” Harriet shrugged.

“What’s the plan then?” Hermione glanced between hero and villain.

“Wait for Dumbledore I suppose.” Rumple grumbled, clearly unhappy with the idea.

“Or we could just barge in like bad asses?” Harriet suggested, a twinkle in her eye.

“You’re pure chaos,” Rumple muttered as he bit into his own sandwich.

“You like it,” Harriet teased while taking a delicate sip of her tea.

Hermione didn’t know if she should be more horrified that Harriet was flirting with Lord Voldemort or of how badly she was at it.

“When do you plan to go?”

Harriet looked at the kitchenette clock and smiled, “Why not now?”

“You cannot be serious?” Rumple gawked as Harriet just nodded, drinking the rest of her tea as she stood.

“Of course I am,” Harriet replied, “It would be the perfect surprise.”

“I don’t know Harry.” Hermione frowned at her friend, “What if you make Professor Dumbledore angry?”

“I’m tired of waiting for him.” Harriet had the same mulish expression on her face that Hermione had to contend with during their school years, “I spent my entire childhood waiting for him. I’m done.”

Rumpelstiltskin looked between the two friends and sighed. He knew there was no talking Harriet out of her decision.

“Fine,” Rumple agreed, “We’ll go.”

Hermione just sighed, “I suppose I should go too….” but she trailed off when Harriet shook her head.

“You need to go home, Monie.”

“Why?”

“Because I threw my lot in with Lord Voldemort,” Harriet replied, voice calm. Rumple winced, “If this should be found out, I’m fucked.”

Hermione blanched but didn’t contradict her. The Minister of Magic hated Harriet and if he could find dirt on her, he would use it to the fullest advantage. Swallowing, she said, “We will not abandon you again.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Harriet reached out and squeezed Hermione’s hand affectionately, “I’m just asking you to go home and wait.”

Hermione took a deep breath and slowly let it out, “Alright.”

Looking at Rumpelstiltskin she said, “You had better have her back, or so help me I WILL figure out a way to kill you.”

“Of course,” Rumple replied solemnly. Hermione nodded, hugged Harriet, and then quickly left.

“Be careful Mistress,” Kreacher said worriedly, as she began cleaning the remnants of their meal. Harriet just smiled, “We’ll try, but be ready to leave if something goes wrong.”

“Yes Mistress,” Kreacher stuttered, startled that Harriet would think of him.

“I wouldn’t leave you behind Kreacher,” Harriet replied, touching the house elf’s shoulder, “Not for the world.”

Kreacher bowed and left the living room, tears in his eyes. Even after all these years, he was still surprised by how much she returned his affections.

“Let me change.” Harriet ran to her room and quickly pulled on a red long sleeve shirt, loose fitting cargo pants, her combat boots, and a black leather jacket. She then grabbed the Marauder's Map and her invisibility cloak.

“I’m ready,” Harriet announced as she walked into the living room, pulling her hair into a ponytail. She was startled when she saw that Rumple too had changed. Instead of his suit, he wore his white shirt, blue jeans, hiking boots, and a brown leather jacket that Harriet itched to steal.

“I am too Beauty.” Rumple replied with a smirk and Harriet felt her stomach flip.

“Good,” Harriet replied, heading toward the door. She held up the map and cloak, “I may actually have a plan this time.”

Rumple just smiled.

Storybrooke

Lately, it felt like Emma could do nothing right. All she wanted was to calm her anxiety and stretch her legs. She had her cell phone, 9-1-1- calls were always sent there instead of the Sheriff’s office. There should have been no room for error.

Of course, she should have known better. This was Storybrooke after all.

“It could have been an emergency!” Grumpy yelled, causing passerby to stare.

“But it wasn’t,” Emma hissed.

“What is the use of a Sheriff if we can’t access the police?” Nova asked, upset.

“9-1-1 goes directly to our phones,” Emma began but then regretted telling Grumpy. He pulled out his cell phone and quickly dialed it. Sighing, Emma pulled out her own phone and quickly answered Grumpy's call.

“HA-HA,” Emma sneered, hanging up on him, “You should have been named Jokey instead of Grumpy.”

“I just want you to do your damn job, sister,” Grumpy, snapped.

“And what am I supposed to do?” Emma asked, confused, “It’s legal to kick Nova out of the convent.”

“This isn’t about what’s legal,” Nova replied, near tears, “It’s about what’s right, Emma. You’re the Savior. If you speak with Blue, she will listen.”

“And what am I supposed to say?” Emma asked, exasperated, “That the rules for fairies are unfair?”

“Yes!” Nova and Grumpy exclaimed at the same time. Emma’s shoulders drooped.

“I can’t do that,” Emma said quietly, “I’m the Sheriff; nothing more.”

“You’re the Savior,” Nova insisted, reaching out to touch Emma’s arm.

Emma stepped back. Turning away from both of them she said, “Maybe you should take your complaint to the Mayor.”

“Regina?” Grumpy asked shocked, “She hates us!”

“Then I don’t know what else to suggest,” Emma replied firmly, “I’m the Sheriff. I can’t do anything about the religious orders here in town.”

Grumpy glared at Emma and then sneered, “Come on Nova. We’re not going to get help here.”

Emma watched as they left. Grumpy was irate and Nova was crying. Gritting her teeth, she got back into her car and drove toward the police station quietly seething.

She was beginning to hate the citizens of Storybrooke, with their petty complaints and their overreactions. She just wanted a quiet life with Henry and her parents. No more prophecies, no more villains, and certainly no more curses. Just simplicity.

Unfortunately, Storybrooke was anything but simple.

Pulling into the station’s parking lot. Emma turned the car off and grabbed her phone. She almost called Gold but glared at it instead. She had so many unanswered questions about herself, her magic, and Storybrooke. Yet, she couldn’t make herself ask.

Not him. Not after what he’d done. Her pride wouldn’t allow it.

Weary, Emma got out of the car and trudged into the station. She quickly texted her family that she was going to be late for dinner. She had reports to finish and emails to answer. It seemed like all she did lately was work.

Falling into her chair, Emma just stared at her computer as she began fiddling with her pen, her mind returning to Archie. He was furious with her when he left, yet by the time he made it to his office he was calmer. It was startling how quickly Archie let go of his anger.

Almost as if he were acting before?

Archie had been kidnapped and used against her in the past. If something was going on with him, she should at least check on him. Right?

Yet what were the odds of that happening again?

Shrugging off her suspicions, Emma refocused on her paperwork, resolutely refusing to believe anything more than the normal Storybrooke weirdness was at play. Maybe if she believed it enough, it would make it true.

Chapter Text

Hogsmeade

Harriet ambled her way through Hogsmeade, looking at shop windows and making small purchases every few stops. If anyone in the crowd were questioned as to her activities, they would all simply agree she was running errands. She whistled as she wound her way through Hogsmeade, nodding and smiling at the people she passed. Pausing briefly at the Quidditch shop, she stared longingly at the racing brooms on display before she continued toward Honeydukes. Harriet’s shoulders slumped as she fingered the broom charm on her necklace.

She hadn’t been on a broom in years, and she missed it.

“What’s wrong?” Rumple whispered only for Harriet to “accidentally” smack him as she “stumbled”.

“Shut-up!” Harriet thought frantically.

“Sorry, I'm not accustomed to this.”

“Aren't you supposed to be the expert in this type of magic?” Harriet teased, cheekiness oozing from her as she sashayed into Honeydukes. Rumple smirked as he followed close behind, desperately trying not to notice how well her pants fit her figure. He knew their connection was more open at the moment and he didn’t want her to hear his thoughts.

They were not gentlemanly.

He watched the customers carefully as Harriet slowly meandered through Honeydukes, stopping to inspect candy along the way. She lingered by the alcohol flavored chocolate a few seconds too long, making Rumple tense, before she physically shook herself and moved toward the basement.

“Nobody is watching,” Rumple thought as he carefully scanned the store. She quickly opened the door as he swiftly enveloped her within the invisibility cloak, both hoping that nobody noticed the door moving on its own. They stood there for a moment, pausing to see if anyone would sound the alarm. When nothing happened, Rumple breathed a sigh of relief only for Harriet to slap her hand over his mouth, frantically motioning for him to remain quiet.

“Someone may be down here!” Harriet thought loudly, making Rumple wince in pain.

Harriet flinched in sympathy and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

Rumple nodded, lightly kissing her palm in forgiveness. Startled, Harriet pulled her hand away and gave Rumple a puzzled glance before she tugged on his wrist for him to follow her. As they slowly crept down the stars, Harriet couldn’t help but once again marvel at her invisibility cloak. It shouldn’t have been large enough to fit both of them, but Harriet had long ago accepted that as a Hallow, it was unique.

It was much safer to focus on her cloak, than the tingles left by Rumple’s kiss.

By the time they reached the bottom of the stairs, they were both certain that the basement was deserted. Taking off the invisibility cloak, Harriet threw it over her shoulder and hurried for the trap door. Opening it quickly, she motioned for Rumple to follow her when the basement door abruptly opened. As fast as his leg would allow, Rumple dashed forward and threw himself into the dark opening. When he landed, he clenched his teeth together to keep from grunting as his ankle twisted. He grabbed the side of the wall before he fell and listened as Harriet locked the trap door. She tugged his arm and he pushed himself from the wall to follow her, hobbling after her as best he could. Neither spoke until it became obvious that they’d left Hogsmeade all together.

“Damn, my leg,” Rumple muttered as he stopped and leaned against the passage wall.

“You okay?” Harriet asked as she watched Rumple rub his ankle

“I’ll be fine,” Rumple muttered, resting only briefly before limping forward.

“Why didn’t you bring your cane?”

“I’m sick of it!” Rumple shouted, his voice echoing off the stone walls. His frustration with their situation was mounting and he felt a bit of a headache coming on from their open connection.

“Don't yell at me, Rum.” Harriet warned, her voice low and unnaturally calm as she stopped and glared at Rumpelstiltskin.

Rumple turned toward her, searching her face for a moment before his shoulders slumped and he sighed. Rubbing his eyes he said quietly, “I’m sorry Harriet.”

She continued to glare at him, her eyes narrowed, before she allowed herself to relax. Her shoulders slumped and she nodded before they continued to walk side by side down the tunnel.

“Really, I am sorry” Rumple apologized again, watching Harriert from the corner of his eye.

“It’s alright,” Harriet smiled, lightly bumping his shoulder with her own. Grinning, he bumped her back and watched as Harriet laughed. He could feel her joy through their connection, and he basked in it for a brief moment before strengthening the barriers between them. Not that they would do much good, but they did allow them some privacy from each other.

“You could summon it,” Harriet suggested.

“I’d rather do this,” Rumple stopped and placed his hand on his leg. He felt his pain ebb to a dull ache and he sighed in satisfaction as he began to walk without his limp.

“You do much more of that and you’ll turn,” Harriet warned.

“Well,” Rumple pointed at the invisibility cloak, “Good thing we have that.”

“You’re such a smartarse,” Harriet muttered, and Rumple chuckled.

The passageway began to slowly descend, leading them further under Hogwarts. The walls changed from natural rock to stone and Harriet could see ancient scaffolding that she hadn’t noticed when she was a student. It felt like hours before they came to the rock slide that led to the trap door.

“Of course,” Rumple muttered as Harriet took a running start and nimbly made her way up the slide. Rumple just rolled his eyes and began to levitate slowly upward. Despite his magic, his leg ached far too much for a running leap.

“Arsehole,” Harriet grunted as she clutched the trap door’s handle to keep her balance. There was a small ledge between the door and slide that kept her from falling backward, but it was tight, “Why didn’t you teach me that?”

“You didn’t ask. ” Rumple smirked.

Harriet stuck out her tongue and then took out the Marauder's Map, whispering, “I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good.”

She smiled in satisfaction as the map unfurled, revealing Hogwarts in its entirety; complete with the whereabouts of everyone in the castle.

“Did you make this?” Rumple asked as he looked over her shoulder. It was a magnificent map.

“I can’t take credit for this one,” Harriet replied proudly “My dad, Remus, Sirius and Wormtail made this when they were at Hogwarts.”

Rumple made an impressed noise in his throat yet kept his thoughts to himself, preferring to allow Harriet to pursue the map unimpeded. Discovering the corridor before them was deserted, she quickly opened the door and motioned for Rumple to follow her. They made their way out of the cramped passageway and Rumple sighed in relief as he closed the hump of the One-Eyed Witch.

“What's next?” Rumple whispered as he quickly threw the invisibility cloak over them. Anyone could discover them without it.

“Seventh floor,” Harriet quietly muttered, and Rumple made a face They weren’t uncomfortably cramped beneath the cloak, but as they trudged up the stairs, he became overly aware of her body; the way she walked, the feeling of her arm against his, and the light bump of her hips.

It was maddening.

Yet, despite this, Rumple made no outward sign of distress or attraction, and they ascended the last staircase quickly. Making their way down the seventh-floor corridor, Harriet pulled off the cloak as they came to Dumbledore’s office. She folded it into a small square and shoved it into her jacket pocket to keep it safe.

“Invisibility cloaks don’t normally do that.”

“It’s a Hollow,” Harriet replied as Rumple’s eyes widened.

“You…..had another Hollow?” Rumple whispered, staring at Harriet in surprise, “I thought you just had the Elder Wand’s allegiance.”

I also used the Resurrection Stone too,” Harriet replied but held her hand up to silence him before he could start asking questions, “We can discuss this later Rum. Focus.”

Looking as if he’d swallowed a lemon, Rumple nodded and returned his attention to the task at hand. Harriet whispered, “mischief managed” and the map was once again hidden from sight.

Taking a deep breath Harriet whispered, “Lemon Drops.”

The gargoyle sprang to life and quickly revealed the stairs leading to Dumbledore’s office.

“He really needs to change that,” Harriet muttered as they made their way up the stairs to the familiar oak door. Knocking, Harriet felt anger and annoyance flair inside of her. If Dumbledore knew how to communicate properly neither Rumple nor Harriet would have had to sneak into Hogwarts.

“Come in!” Dumbledore yelled and Rumple smirked as Harriet burst into the office with more force than was strictly necessary.

“Harriet!” Dumbledore yelped; surprise etched on his face.

“How did you……?” Albus began but then his eyes landed on the Marauders Map, “Of course.”

Harriet carefully placed the map into one of her many pockets as Rumpelstiltskin sat casually across from Albus, loosely crossing his legs, a smirk firmly in place.

“Unfortunately, sneaking in was the only option that guaranteed you would be here.”

“That seems rather undignified for you.”

Rumple laughed darkly, “I’m rather passed dignity at this point Albus.”

Dumbledore glared as he took in Rumple’s altered appearance, "A new haircut won’t change your monstrous nature.”

Rumple narrowed his eyes.

“And dressing yourself in outlandish clothes won’t hide how vile and manipulative you’ve become,” Rumple sneered watching in satisfaction as Albus flinched, “Yet I think we digress.”

“Quite,” Dumbledore replied, his voice acidic.

“We don’t have time for a pissing contest!” Harriet interrupted, trying to keep the snarl from her voice. Dumbledore glanced at her and she squared her shoulders, preparing herself for the inevitable penetration of her mind, when he glanced away from her; as if in shame.

“What have you found, Headmaster?”

Albus cleared his throat, “I haven’t found much.”

“But you’ve found something,” Rumple prompted, working hard to keep his voice neutral. He was desperately trying to keep his temper in check, something he was once again finding extremely difficult to do in the Headmaster’s presence.

“Yes,” Albus answered carefully. He glanced between Harriet and Rumple and then looked at the open book in front of him. His face was impassive, but the sparkle was gone from his eyes and Harriet knew that never boded well, “I haven’t discovered the reason for the continued mental connection, but I do understand Tom's heart attacks.

“Rumplestilskin,” Rumple hissed.

Albus didn’t take the bait. Instead, he continued to stare at Rumpelstiltskin like he was a fascinating bug. Clearing his voice, he continued as if he’d never been interrupted, “According to Herpo the Foul, the only way for horcruxes to be reunited is for the host to feel remorse. If the horcruxes are destroyed before that should happen, then the soul pieces are gone forever.”

“That’s not right,” Harriet interrupted, “I destroyed his horcruxes, yet the soul pieces weren’t destroyed with them. They went back to Rumple.”

“The wraith that was Lord Voldemort,” Albus corrected, closing the book and placing his interlocked hands-on top of it, “He was not in a human body, but in one of his own creation.”

“That shouldn’t matter,” Rumple interjected, tapping his finger against his cheek, “The pieces should have been destroyed with the horcruxes, unless…..”

“Unless?” Albus asked, frowning and reopening the book to see what he’d missed.

“Unless Herpo was wrong,” Rumple continued with a thoughtful look, “and you can’t destroy a soul; even if it is in pieces.”

“Possibly,” Albus said thoughtfully, continuing his research, “Herpo wasn’t a particularly religious wizard. I’m not sure he would have taken into consideration that souls could be eternal.”

“I hadn’t considered it either,” Rumple replied dryly, “Although, considering how many ghosts are at Hogwarts, that seems rather short sighted on my part.”

Albus made a noise of agreement as he turned a page.

“Yet, it still doesn’t make sense,” Rumple muttered. Standing, he walked toward the tower window, surveying the castle grounds as he considered Albus’ information.

“What do you mean?” Harriet asked, perplexed.

“I was incapable of remorse,” Rumple turned to look at Harriet, a saddened expression on his face, “When I died, it should have been the end. How did I become reincarnated to begin with?”

“Well…..” Harriet began, but then frowned, trying to remember what happened after she died. Pain suddenly seared her forehead, making her wince.

“Harriet?” Rumple asked, taking a step toward her.

“Maybe when I died….” Harriet desperately tried to remember even as the pain intensified, “Could I have done something?”

“I don’t see how,” Albus said thoughtfully, doing his best to ignore her discomfort as he looked through the book. Rumple glared at him as he reached out to support Harriet, “Your death was prevented by Lord Voldemort’s soul inhabiting your body.”

“She’s the Mistress of Death,” Rumple quietly announced, causing the Headmaster to freeze. Looking up, Albus’ lips pressed together as he saw how close Harriet and Rumple had become.

“But I didn’t have the Elder Wand or the Resurrection Stone in my possession when I died.” Harriet frowned in frustration as she leaned into Rumple for support. She felt his arm snake around her waist and she practically purred as he tucked her under his chin, “Only the cloak.”

“Did you use the stone, Harriet?” Albus gravely asked, his teeth clenched tightly as Rumpelstiltskin comforted her.

“Yes,” Harriet closed her eyes and nuzzled into Rumple’s chest, “Right before Rumple killed me. I hid it in the Forbidden Forest so nobody would be tempted to use it after I died.”

Albus winced.

“What?” Harriet asked desperately, pulling slightly away from Rumple to look between the two wizards.

“A human horcrux has never been created,” Albus turned to a specific page, “It was postulated that using a human could pervert the process.”

“Which we uncovered,” Rumple muttered, “but we never discovered why.”

Albus turned to another page, “The purpose of a horcrux is to store a soul piece as it is. It can neither learn nor grow stored in an inanimate object. However, if a human were to be used as a horcrux…..”

“Then the soul could learn,” Rumple frowned, but then his eyes widened as the implications began to dawn on him, “It could potentially become something new…. someone new.”

“Correct.”

“And if you couple a human horcrux with being the Mistress of Death,” Rumple looked at Harriet with wonder in his eyes, “Then, yes Harriet, you could have done something.”

Harriet pulled away from Rumple, still unsteady on her feet, and glanced between the two wizards. Swallowing, she quietly asked, “Is there any way for me to remember?”

“Not in this world,” Rumple’s voice rang with confidence, “but in another…. very likely.”

“What do you mean?” Albus frowned, “Magic is magic.”

“No, it’s not,” Rumple replied, straightening and giving his full attention to the Headmaster. Albus Dumbledore may have been his Transfiguration Professor, but Rumpelstiltskin had much more experience with magic and the universe at large.

He refused to be cowed.

“Every world uses magic differently,” Rumple replied, drumming his fingers against the windowsill in thought, “In the Fairytale world, magic is strongly tied to emotions with a few rules here and there to govern how magic works. In Wonderland everything is nonsense, magic most of all. Oz seems to be an odd mixture of nonsense and rules. In Neverland, whatever you believe comes true.”

Looking out the window Rumple continued, “This world, the Land of Hidden Magic, seems to be the most logical of all worlds.” Rumple paused before he thoughtfully muttered, “The magic here seems to be the hardest to use.”

Looking at Albus he continued, “Which is probably why magic is hereditary in this world.”

“It isn’t in other worlds?” Harriet asked, intrigued.

“Magic can be learned by anyone who resides there, “Thinking of Elsa and Ingrid he added, “how that magic is expressed, however, can be hereditary.”

Uncertainly, Albus asked, “I suppose you think one of those worlds would have the key to unlocking Harriet’s memories?”

“Yes,” Rumple replied with a defeated sigh, “However, world traveling is very difficult.”

“How difficult?”

Rumple’s shoulders slumped, and he walked over to Albus’ desk and sat down in one of the chairs; defeated.

“It took me manipulating generations into creating the correct circumstances for the Evil Queen to cast the Dark Curse that brought part of the Enchanted Forest here” Rumple admitted, feeling his chest begin to ache. He didn’t want to admit to Harriet his hand in creating Storybrooke, especially not in front of Albus Dumbledore, but he had no choice. “I used to believe it was because this world was the “real world” where all stories are told. Now, it may be because this world is the most logical.”

Albus pressed his lips together while Harriet stood quietly next to Rumple. She had already suspected that he had a hand in creating Storybrooke, she was rather good at reading between the lines, but to have him admit it was rather hard to hear.

“You said you didn’t remember being Voldemort until recently,” Albus growled.

“My son was lost,” Rumple replied, his voice soft. He wasn’t looking at Albus or Harriet, but at the floor, his mind going back to Bae and all the choices that contributed to their separation, “A seer told me I would find him here.” Looking up, he said with conviction, “And I damn well made sure I was going to be here.”

“Still no remorse for your actions, I see.”

“Oooh, that is where you’re wrong, dearie,” Rumple replied, his voice turning ugly. He turned to Harriet and unashamedly said, “but I would do it all again for my boy.”

Harriet and Rumple stared at each other, both waiting for the other to say something. Finally, she looked away and sighed as she ran her fingers through her hair, “I know, Rum.”

Rumple nodded curtly and looked back at Albus, who was staring at him thoughtfully.

“It seems our next step should be traveling to Storybrooke,” Harriet said quietly, making Rumple stiffen, “Maybe we can get Hook to lend us the Jolly Roger,” Harriet suggested, “you said it could travel between the worlds?’

“Hook isn’t going to help us Beauty,” Rumple sneered.

“Hook?” Albus asked.

Harriet sighed, “Captain Hook.

“I’m the Crocodile. Tick-tock!” Rumple tittered, moving his hand in a grandiose gesture, “And he’s the naughty pirate that stole all of those boys for Peter Pan.”

Albus looked between Harriet and Rumple, confused.

“We should go,” Harriet said softly, taking Rumple by the arm. She could see that he was near his breaking point and they needed time to process the information. She could feel his growing frustration and she knew he was very close to changing into the Dark One.

“Before you go,” Albus said, his voice grave, giving Harriet and Rumple pause, “I should warn you both, that you are treading dangerous ground.”

“What do you mean Headmaster,” Harriet stiffened, bracing for a fight; her hand ready to summon her wand from its sheath.

Albus cleared his voice and announced, “Herpo believed that if the soul pieces should reattach themselves, it would kill the host.”

“What do you mean, kill?” Rumple’s voice hardened and Harriet felt him stiffen next to her. A lump formed in her throat and dread gripped her heart as she felt Rumple’s emotions darken. He was already frustrated, but now she was starting to feel his fear.

“The heart attacks?” Albus asked, “When do they happen?”

Rumple pursed his lips, his face impassive, but Harriet gently took his hand and asked, “Rum?”

Rumple squeezed her hand and hoarsely replied, “Every time I feel remorse for what I’ve done.”

“Eventually, that remorse will kill you,” Albus warned, his smile acidic, “A fitting punishment don’t you think?”

“Not if Harriet’s mind is still connected to mine!” Rumple snarled, launching himself at the Headmaster. She felt pain slam into her temple as Rumple changed into the Dark One but she didn’t let it stop her from grabbing his arm. She wouldn’t allow him to pummel the Headmaster.

“Rum no!” Harriet shouted, making Rumple instantly pause. Albus watched them in fascination.

“It won’t help anything.” Harriet tugged him back toward her, “We’ll figure out another way for you to become one with the Darkness, without it killing you.”

“I don’t want to become one with it!” Rumple roared, pulling from Harriet’s grasp.

They stared at each other; his eyes fiery and wild, hers sad and gentle.

“You don’t have a choice.” Harriet whispered brokenly.

He took a step away from her, a look of betrayal on his face, before he spun on his bad leg and disappeared. Harriet winced as she felt the school’s wards shake and tremble. Nobody could apparate in and out of the school and she fully expected Rumple to reappear, but instead the wards broke and the castle trembled dangerously before settling back into place.

Albus sighed as he stood up, “The students and staff will be alarmed.”

Harriet put her head in her hands and screamed in frustration.

“Harriet,” Albus began but she cut him off.

“I don't want to hear it, Headmaster!”

“You’re playing a dangerous game with Tom.” Albus took a step in her direction. He needed to attend the school, but the frustrated woman in front of him took priority.

Harriet glared at him, “His fucking name, is Rumplestilskin.”

Albus straightened as Harriet’s eyes flashed. Now that her magic wasn’t fighting to keep her alive, she was growing more powerful. It was something that he’d never really seen Harriet embrace before now. When she had been a student, her magic had been protecting her from the horcrux. After she’d been fired from the ministry, it had protected her from herself. There had been a few years in between where Albus had heard of her growing power. A power many had begun to fear, but once her mental health had declined, that power seemed to have disappeared. Now, it was slowly building inside her. Yet Albus worried that with Rumpelstiltskin’s influence, she would choose to wield it poorly.

“I will do everything I can to help you,” Albus swallowed, worried he was making the wrong decision, but choosing to place his faith in Harriet’s inherent goodness, “It’s the least I can do.”

Harriet narrowed her eyes in suspicion but nodded curtly. Turning to go she paused at the door; her hand on the doorknob.

“Please make sure to contact Ron and Hermione. They’re worried about the children.”

She looked over her shoulder at Dumbledore, “They still believe in you.”

Albus flinched, “And you don’t?”

“No,” Harriet’s voice was hard, “but I think you know that.”

“You forgave him,” Albus gestured toward where Rumple had stood, “but not me?”

“Rumple never lied to me,” Harriet replied heartbrokenly, “ He never betrayed me. He didn’t raise me to die. He didn’t give me to the Dursleys….” Harriet trailed off, “He didn’t watch me drown myself in alcohol and do nothing.”

Albus flinched

“In time I will forgive you,” Harriet whispered, her voice sad, “I can do that with alarming ease, but I won't trust you ever again.”

She licked her lips as she continued, “So don’t help me because you think it’ll get you back into my good graces. Do it because it’s right.”

Then Harriet turned the doorknob and strode out the door.

Bowing his head, Albus felt his own heart ache in remorse and winced when he realized he had more in common with Rumpelstiltskin then he was comfortable with.

A dark figure fell out of the trap door of the One-Eyed Witch and quickly slipped into an empty classroom. He’d been sure there was a passageway between Hogsmeade and Hogwarts but hadn’t been close to finding it until he spotted Potter.

He slowly followed her into Honeydukes and watched as she suspiciously disappeared into thin air, right before the basement doors opened and closed on its own. Nobody in the shop seemed to notice, but he’d made sure to act like a regular patron so the staff wouldn’t become suspicious when he too disappeared into the basement.

By the time he reached the bottom, there’d been no sign of Potter. It had taken him quite some time to find the trap door, as a look-at-me-not spell was cast on it. Unless you knew the trapdoor was there, you wouldn’t see it. Only the fact that he knew Potter had used it allowed him to find it.

He had just made it to the end of the passageway, when Hogwarts began to tremble and shake. Rock and dirt fell on him as he ran toward the slide, sure that the passageway was about to collapse. He hadn’t slowed down until he’d escaped the passageway. Leaning against the empty classroom’s wall, he sighed in relief. He hated being underground.

It felt too much like being buried.

He waited until his breath evened out and then returned his attention to the corridor. He peaked out the door, trying to get his bearings, when he realized there was no way he was going to be able to find the wolf’s spawn until later that night. The boy had been sorted into Hufflepuff and he wasn’t stupid enough to try and get close to the kitchens. He vividly remembered the final battle and how powerful the house elves had been.

He wasn’t about to piss them off .

Hopefully, the boy was prone to late night wanderings like his godmother. He needed Teddy Lupin. Without him, his plan would fall apart.

Storybrooke

Robin frowned as he watched Regina pace the length of their bedroom. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest and her eyes were wild.

“Why isn’t he answering my calls?” Regina snarled, glaring at the phone discarded on their bed.

“It’s late Regina,” Robin tiredly replied, “and who knows where he’s at or what he’s doing. I’m sure he will eventually.”

“We need to know his price,” Regina muttered.

“There is no price,” Robin replied for what felt like the thousandth time.

“There is always a price with him,” Regina snarled glaring at the mirror in front of her. She’d tried to see where he was, but she was having difficulty piercing the barrier around Storybrooke.

“Not this time,” Robin replied with conviction, his mind wandering to how they had supported each other upon Zelena’s death. He knew that held weight with Rumpelstiltskin.

“You don’t understand,” Regina began but Robin cut her off. He was tired of having this conversation.

“No, you don’t understand,” Robin replied, frustrated, “We split amicably. Something called him away, but he and I are fine. You need to let this go!”

“I can’t!” Regina yelled, hugging herself. She desperately wanted Robin to hold her, but he was sitting on their bed glaring at her with poorly concealed frustration.

“Then it's on you what happens next,” Robin replied as he stood up. He grabbed his pillow and brushed past Regina.

“Where are you going?” Regina asked plaintively, barely stopping herself from reaching out to him.

“I’m sleeping with Roland tonight,” Robin replied as he strode out the door, “I’m tired of having this same conversation every night.”

The door slammed behind him, leaving Regina vulnerable and shivering in her bedroom. Panic gripped her heart and she felt her breath quicken.

He was going to leave her!

She would kill Rumpelstiltskin if he did. Nobody was going to take her happy ending away, not even the immortal Dark One. She just needed to get her hands on his dagger.

“Belle will be easy to deal with,” Regina mumbled to herself as she stared into her mirror. She passed her hand over the reflection and an image of Belle rippled to the surface. She was drinking alone, staring at her and Rumple’s wedding picture. Regina could see tears sliding down her cheeks and dripping onto the picture frame.

“Yes,” Regina mumbled, “She will be easy to get the dagger from.”

Henry gritted his teeth as he pulled away from the door. He had heard Regina and Robin yelling from his room but hadn’t been able to understand them. When Robin left the room Henry had snuck over and put his ear to the door, wondering if Regina needed him. Instead, he heard her plotting against his grandpapa.

He shouldn’t be surprised. She was the Evil Queen after all.

Pressing his fingers into his eyes, Henry snuck back into his room and pulled on his blue jeans and jacket. He left his pajama top on, too much in a hurry to change it, and grabbed his backpack with the Once Upon a Time book in it. He stuffed his bed with pillows and opened his window.

Taking a deep breath to keep his fear away, Henry snuck onto the roof and then climbed down the trellis just under his window. He wasn’t coming back. His mother was slowly going crazy. Would she use him against his grandpapa?

Henry feared she would.

He finally felt the ground against his feet and ran quickly out of the yard. He knew Belle had stayed in his grandpapa’s house instead of moving back to her apartment. It wasn’t far from the mayor’s manor, yet his mother was watching her. He wasn’t sure what to do.

Frowning, Henry stopped running and hid himself behind a bush. He needed help.

But should he call Archie or Cogsworth?

Stealing himself, he punched a button and put the phone to his ear. In the end there wasn’t much of a choice. Archie was a wonderful man, but he wasn’t used to making someone disappear.

But Cogsworth on the other hand……

“Mr. Cogsworth,” Henry whimpered as the older man answered the phone, “I’m in trouble.”

Chapter Text

Hogwarts

Harriet was dazed and distracted as she wandered Hogwarts. Her mind was fuzzy, and she couldn't think or plan what her next steps should be. Every time she tried to focus, all she could think of was that Rumpelstiltskin was going to die.

She had enough presence of mind to throw on her invisibility cloak, worried that someone would connect her with the failing wards. She didn’t know how the Headmaster was going to smooth that over and frankly didn’t care. She was more worried about Rumpelstiltskin.

He was going to die.

She couldn’t shake that thought, no matter how hard she tried. Even stumbling out of Hogwarts and down the path that led toward Hogsmeade didn’t help. The cool night air couldn’t penetrate the invisibility cloak and her chaotic mind left her feeling dazed and uncomfortable.

RUMPLESTILSKIN was going to die!

Rumpelstiltskin was going to DIE!

Rumpelstiltskin was GOING to die!

How was she supposed to help him? To save him? She couldn’t even help herself.

Her throat began to close as she stumbled. Annoyed, she finally ripped the invisibility cloak off and fell to her hands and knees. She sucked in the cool night air as she fought her emotions and tried to focus her breathing. Yet, she kept choking on her tears.

Looking up, she squinted into the moonlight, puzzled as to where she was. At some point she had deviated from the main path and now stood next to a trail that led into the Forbidden Forest. Surprise overtook her as she realized she was standing in the same spot she'd used the Resurrection Stone twelve years ago. Licking her lips, she grabbed her cloak and stood. Folding it, she slid it into a pocket, then pulled out her wand.

“Accio Resurrection Stone!”

Nothing happened.

Did someone find it? If misused, it could ruin someone’s life. Dread began to grip her heart, and her stomach began to churn when she heard a high pitch whistling. Reaching out, she snatched the stone from the air before it could hit her in the face.

“There you are,” Harriet whispered as she looked at the dirt encrusted ring. Wiping off some of the grime, she examined the ring in the moonlight. She was still puzzled as to how she became the Mistress of Death. All she had done was simply use it. Shouldn’t it have been in her possession with the cloak and wand?

Yet, she had gained the Elder Wand’s loyalty by defeating Draco Malfoy, and neither had the wand in their possession at the time. So maybe the stone worked differently? Each Hollow seemed to have some key requirement to gain mastery of it.

Feeling a headache coming on, she stuffed the ring into one of her many pockets and looked around. A lot had changed in twelve years, but her feet still seemed to know the way, and she found herself leisurely strolling through the Forbidden Forest. The bushes were still as tangled and gnarled as before, the path still as winding, but she hadn’t realized how far it’d been from the castle. Despite the cool air, she began to sweat, and her feet started to hurt. Yet once the brambles gave way to underbrush, and then the clearing, it struck Harriet that she hadn’t used Lumos to see in the dark.

She just could.

Fear gripped her heart, but before she could panic over her newfound ability, her attention was diverted. Rumpelstiltskin was standing in the same spot he’d been twelve years ago. She felt her heart stutter as the bright moonlight illuminated the clearing and caused his scales to glitter faintly in the dark. She couldn’t help but be mesmerized by his sheer alien beauty.

“Aaaah,” Rumple drawled, his voice little more than a hiss, “My Beauty found me.”

“Yes she did,” Harriet replied, her voice shaky. While she knew he probably would prefer to be alone, she couldn’t let that happen. He was dangerous, upset, and a little unhinged. He couldn’t be alone. Yet, she found that her reluctance to leave was more for her benefit than his.

She needed him, and she wasn’t certain how she felt about that.

Rumple's heart stuttered as he watched his Beauty gracefully glide toward him. Her dazzling emerald eyes glowed faintly in the moonlight, and he felt his mouth go dry as his palms began to sweat. Yet he didn’t allow himself to drop the mysterious Dark One act. He refused to show weakness. He was going to die and there was a distinct possibility he would be taking her with him. He didn’t deserve her comfort.

She was too precious, too good.

The Savior this world and Storybrooke needed.

The perfect Guardian.

His breathing began to feel labored, and his heart sped up. He couldn’t tell if he was having another heart attack or if it was just his anxiety. She looked so lovely in the moonlight, so vulnerable. He wanted to reach out and hold her. To wrap himself around her and whimper and cry and confess everything good, bad, and in-between he had ever done.

He wanted to give in and let the remorse overtake him. Yet, if he did, he might kill her. Henry would be alone, Storybrooke would fall, and nothing good would be left behind.

Just chaos.

He didn’t want that. He wanted to leave the world better than he found it. Lord Voldemort’s influence had caused so many issues in magical Britain and his time as the Dark One had caused problems in Storybrooke. He’d tried to build a legacy, but all he could claim was chaos. He didn’t want that to be all there was to him. For once, he wanted to do good for the sake of it.

Harriet was to blame for that.

Instead of his soul twisting Harriet into something dark; all her love, joy, hope, and delight had leaked into his soul piece. She had infected him with love, and in so doing, his soul had begun to grow.

Her goodness had allowed him to become Rumpelstiltskin.

It wasn’t perfect. Without the Darkness he hadn’t been a whole person. Too prone to cowardice to really do much with the goodness she gave him. Yet even as the Darkness had infected him, he’d kept that goodness. It had protected him from true evil through the centuries; allowing him to become someone other than Lord Voldemort. Rumpelstiltskin was created from the goodness of a hero while the Darkness was created from the evil of a villain. They were incompatible.

That incompatibility would eventually drive him mad, if his remorse didn’t kill him first.

Harriet didn’t deserve him haunting her, yet she seemed perfectly content in his company. She’d believed him when he said he’d changed and looked at him like he’d always been Rumpelstiltskin. Without even trying, she’d staked a claim onto his very soul.

It’d been just under a week, and he couldn’t imagine living his life without her. She was a welcome balm to his heart, a distraction from his pain, a reminder of who he used to be, and a champion of what he could become. He wanted to show her how special she was to him; how cared for she was.

Snapping his fingers, her clothes rippled and shifted into a Gryffindor red dress. It was embroidered with golden roses all along the skirt and bodice. The neck was scooped in the front, without it being indecent, and her shoes had transformed into delicate golden slippers. Yet, strangely, her jacket refused to transfigure.

Surprised, Harriet took her jacket off and carefully placed it on the ground. Then she delicately touched her dress and whispered, “It’s beautiful Rum.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Rumple replied with a delighted smile. He loved how the dress accentuated her figure. The red perfectly balanced her alabaster skin and jet-black hair while the gold embroidery brought out the emerald in her eyes, making them glitter in the moonlight.

“But why change my clothes?” Harriet asked, her eyes glowing with pleasure, “Did you want us to match?”

Confused, Rumple looked down at himself and smirked, he’d been unaware of what he’d been wearing. His jacket, vest, and boots were a dark brown with golden buttons while his pants and undershirt were the same red as her dress. Smiling, he said in his high manic voice, “Well of course dearie! How else will everyone know you belong with me?”

Harriet smirked, wondering who everyone could possibly be in the middle of an empty clearing, when he snapped his fingers again. The ground rumbled underneath them and changed from dirt into polished wood. A gramophone stood off to the side playing a rich, romantic instrumental piece.

“Can I have this dance my Beauty?” Rumple asked, bowing and holding out his hand with a small flourish.

Harriet giggled, “Only if we dance to something a bit more my speed.”

“Oh?” Rumple asked as Harriet took her phone from her jacket pocket. Turning off the gramophone, she sat it on top of the turntable and opened the music folder.

“Sonorous!” Harriet muttered moving her wand over the phone. Turning toward Rumple she smiled and pressed play.

Music began to play as Harriet danced her way toward Rumple, a mischievous grin on her face. It was an upbeat piece but as the lyrics washed over the clearing, he realized just how appropriate it was to their situation. It was a song about desperation and Rumple could appreciate that.

Especially after tonight.

“To wreck, to wreck, to wreck. Did I build this ship to wreck?” Harriet sang. She was a bit off key, but her voice was still charming and smooth. With a bit of practice, she would do well singing a little one to sleep.

“Daydreaming again?” The Darkness mocked, yet its voice sounded faraway. Rumple was startled for a moment, but then Harriet took his hands and tugged him close.

Smiling, Rumple completely dismissed the Darkness as irrelevant and began twirling her across the dance floor. So what if he had romantic thoughts and daydreams about her? He was allowed. It wasn’t like Belle wanted him and he was dying anyway.

Let him have his daydreams.

The Darkness must have agreed, because it said no more.

Harriet giggled as Rumple twirled her to the middle of the dance floor and visibly shivered when he pulled her against his chest.

Grinning he began singing with her, his higher baritone blending well with her mezzo-soprano. Neither were great singers but they weren’t offensive either; not that they cared at the moment. For once, they were both just having fun without feeling anxious or guilty about it.

“Good God, under starless skies, we are lost, and in the breach, we got tossed, and the water is coming in fast!” They sang at the top of their voices.

The twirling, swaying, and jiving somehow came out to a dance that both seemed to instinctively know. It wasn’t the romantic ballroom dance Rumple had in mind, but laughing and singing with her under the stars touched a part of his heart that had long belonged to the Darkness. He felt his chest tighten, then quickly loosen, and he couldn't help but feel that his soul had somehow become lighter. For once he allowed himself to feel happy and carefree. He pushed all their pressing issues to the back of his mind and just focused on the moment with Harriet.

His Beauty.

As the song faded, they stood in front of each other, breathing hard with huge grins on their faces. He saw her shiver again and Rumple reached out and wrapped his arms around her.

“Cold?” Rumple asked worriedly. The dress was off the shoulder with short, capped sleeves. It probably wasn’t the right dress for such a cool night, but it looked so lovely on her that Rumple was loath to have her wear anything else.

“I’m not cold, Rum,” Harriet replied, her voice husky. Rumple cocked his eyebrow at her, intrigued and fascinated at how dark her eyes had become.

“Oh?” Rumple whispered, licking his lips nervously.

Harriet hummed in response, a gentle smile gracing her lips as she began to lean forward. Mesmerized by her eyes, Rumple felt himself being pulled toward her, as their breath intermingled, and their eyes slowly shut. Their lips were mere inches from each other, when an ear piercing shirk resounded throughout the clearing. Springing apart Rumple and Harriet looked frantically around, wands instantly drawn, both searching for the source of the noise.

Another scream ripped the air, coming from up ahead. Harriet dashed forward, scooping up her jacket as she went, while Rumple was close behind her. Both were desperately trying to make it toward what sounded like a frightened child.

“Auntie! Help!” The child wailed and Harriet’s heart clinched.

It was Teddy.

“Rumple please,” Harriert pleaded, but he was already ahead of her, having burst into inhuman-like speed upon hearing the child beg.

Leaving the trees quickly behind him, Rumple saw a dark figure point his wand at Teddy. With a snap of his fingers the child disappeared and reappeared behind him. Harriet burst out of the woods a moment later and threw her arms around the shaking boy.

“What do you want?” Rumple demanded, a fireball forming in his hand.

The dark figure stared at him for a moment before he shouted, “Why are you doing this, Dark Lord?

“It’s Dark One actually,” Rumpelstiltskin corrected firmly.

Something struck Harriet about the voice, it was startlingly familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

“You’ve gone against your ideals,” the dark figure sneered, an ugly laugh accompanying his words, “You’ve sown the seeds of discord among wizardkind for decades and now you’ve gone soft!”

“Get fucked!” Harriet yelled from behind Rumpelstiltskin as she clutched Teddy tighter to her side.

Rumple pointed his thumb toward her and sneered, “What she said.”

The dark wizard growled in frustration as he sent spell after spell toward them. Pushing Teddy behind her, Harriet began defending their position, not letting one spell inside her defensive circle, while Rumple tried to freeze the wizard in place. His blood ran cold when he couldn't. Somehow, their foe had anticipated him.

Laughing, the dark wizard spun and ducked as his spells rebounded against Harriet’s shields. Finding the rhythm to their fight, Rumple jumped into the fray casting fireballs toward the dark wizard with every spell that Harriet sent toward him. The wizard’s laughter died as their combined effort quickly turned the tide in their favor.

Snarling, their opponent barely managed to dodge the last fireball, before he pulled out a camera, “I’ll have the last laugh Potter, once the world finds out about your loyalty to the Dark Lord!”

The way he spit her name struck her with familiarity and she felt her whole body go numb as she realized who they were fighting. Startled, she stopped Rumple from throwing another fireball and yelled, “What the fuck Draco?”

Draco hesitated at the tree line before he turned on his heel and apparated away from Hogwarts.

“Why did you stop me?” Rumple growled as he pulled away from her grasp, “I could have stopped him.”

Harriet just stared into the darkness of the Forbidden Forest, flabbergasted as the idea that Draco had set himself against them. She had thought they had buried the hatchet. Dumbledore had pardoned him! They’d even spent their last year at Hogwarts together!

Growling in frustration, she turned, and her eyes fell to a scared Teddy Lupin, “Are you okay?”

Teddy said nothing at first, just looking between Harriet and Rumple. Finally, he looked at the ground and said, “I…. I’m fine.”

“What happened?” Harriet asked, her heart clenching as she kneeled in front of her godson. Teddy bit his lip as he flinched away from her, clearly not wanting her touch, and Harriet’s hands fell uselessly to her sides.

Teddy just shook his head, “I want to go back to Hogwarts.”

Pushing away her discomfort, Harriet took Teddy’s chin in her hand and made him look at her, “We’re taking you to the Hospital Wing and then you’re going to tell us exactly what happened.”

“And if I don’t?” Teddy asked petulantly, pushing away and putting distance between them.

Harriet’s face hardened, “For your sake, you had better change your mind when we get there.”

Teddy's eyes widened. He’d never heard his aunt take that tone with him before. In the past, his father had been the one to suffer her anger. Now that it was his turn, he felt his stomach do a summersault.

He was in so much trouble.

Storybrooke

“Mr. Cogswroth,” Henry said, his voice turning desperate, “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“It’s our only choice,” Cogsworth replied, his voice steady, “Your mother isn’t known for her patience. She could call on Mrs. Gold at any time.”

“I know……” Henry replied, biting his bottom lip. When Mr. Cogsworth had found him, Henry had frantically explained what had happened. He had worried that the older man would think he’d overreacted, but was surprised when he’d been praised for his quick thinking.

Now however, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to keep impressing Mr. Cogsworth.

“We aren’t going to hurt her, Mr. Mills,” Cogsworth said, “Just……take her somewhere else.”

“We’re kidnapping her,” Henry bluntly replied.

“Yes,” Cogsworth agreed, looking at the boy, “but it was your idea.”

“I was just speaking out loud!”

“All suggestions have consequences,” Cogsworth lectured, “Besides, if we leave her, she will be at your mother’s mercy.”

“Yes….but…..” Henry groaned, “What if we try to talk to her? After we steal the dagger. We could try and get her to come with us for her protection.”

“Mr. Mills,” Cogsworth sighed but relented, “Alright…..but only after we have the dagger.”

“Okay,” Henry smiled in relief.

“You should be the one to carry it,” Cogsworth continued, “It is a corrupting influence and your heart will be the hardest to overcome.”

Henry nodded, nervous, but unable to argue with the older man. He did have the heart of the Truest Believer after all and it would buy them some time waiting for his grandpapa to get back into Storybrooke.

Two blocks away from his grandpapa’s house, they pulled into a back alley and quietly exited the vehicle. Keeping to the shadows, Henry desperately tried to follow Cogsworth’s lead but knew he made too much noise. Wincing, he expected Cogsworth to be angry with him, but instead he stopped and patiently showed Henry how best to step to minimize noise. By the time they made it to the back gate, he was much quieter.

Henry winced as the gate opened with a piercing shriek, but purposefully strode forward despite his nervousness. Cogsworth followed him into the backyard and then completely disappeared into the shadows that clung to the edges of the yard. Henry couldn't even see the man’s outline.

Did Mr. Cogsworth have magic?

Pushing his shoulders back, in what he hoped looked like confidence, Henry pushed his wandering thoughts from his mind and knocked on the back door. He waited for a moment before deciding to knock again when he heard stumbling inside. The door opened only slightly and Henry saw Belle peek out. Upon seeing Henry, she opened the door wider.

“Henry?” Belle slurred, “Are you alright?”

“You’re in danger,” Henry replied, obviously worried, yet upon seeing Belle’s glassy eyes he frowned, “Mom wants the dagger.”

“Emma?” Belle asked, her response slower than he would have liked.

“Regina,” Henry replied with a deep frown. Was Belle drunk?

“Oh,” Belle blinked and swayed,“Did she send you for it?”

Henry just stared at Belle in confusion, “No Belle. She didn’t and you shouldn't give it to her either.”

“Well of course not,” Belle replied, with a sniff, “But how am I supposed to stop her from taking it?”

“Give it to me,” Henry replied, his voice turning kind and understanding. She was clearly drunk. Trying to talk her into coming with him would be pointless, but he knew he could use her impairment to keep them from having to go anywhere near a mirror, “I’ll hide it.”

Belle stared at him, blinking rapidly for a moment, and then disappeared inside the house, shutting the door firmly behind her. Glancing from side to side, Henry saw no obvious signs of Cogsworth; worriedly he began to bite his bottom lip. Suddenly the door opened again and Belle reappeared.

“Here take it,” Belle said, as she shoved the dagger at Henry, “I don’t want Regina to have it and……and it’s making me think really bad things.”

“Bad things?” Henry asked, as he wrapped his hands around the dagger’s hilt. Now that the dagger was in his hands, Belle seemed much more lucid then she had a moment ago. He had just begun to fear the dagger was fake, when he felt magic tingle up his arm, and voices began whispering at the back of his mind. Henry felt dread grip his heart.

How had his grandpapa dealt with such evil?

“Take her,” Henry’s voice hardened as he turned his back on Belle.

“Henry?” Belle asked, clearly confused.

Cogsworth took the opportunity to slip out of the shadows and put a rag to Belle’s face. Before she could even process what was going on, she quickly passed out. Henry winced as Cogswroth picked Belle up bridal style and they began the trek back to the car.

Now that he had the dagger in his hands, he knew his mother couldn’t be let anywhere near it. She wasn’t in the right frame of mind to withstand the temptation it presented. Even now, he could hear whispering at the back of his mind, taunting him with all the things he could do with the Dark One’s power.

Gritting his teeth, Henry ignored it. He refused to be another person that hurt his grandpapa. He refused to let the evil in.

Mocking laughter echoed in his mind and a desperate need for Rumplestilskin to hurry home rose within him. Blinking back tears, he gritted his teeth and forced himself to focus on the task at hand.

Yet in his heart, he had never felt more alone than he did now.

Hogwarts

Harriet paced before Teddy’s bed, her dress swirling in a perfect arc every time she spun around. Somehow, Draco Malfoy had enlisted Teddy’s help to spy on her. What she couldn’t understand was why? And for how long?

“Where did you get the pictures?” Harriet asked for the fifth time. She was becoming agitated. It didn’t help that Teddy refused to look at her.

“Lad,” Rumplestilskin began softly, “Please. Your aunt is about to be ruined. We need to know what’s going on.”

“She’s not,” Teddy croaked. He cleared his throat as he pulled his hand from his pocket, “Here’s the film. All he got was the camera.”

Harriet snatched the roll of film from Teddy’s hand and stared at it.

“Teddy, why were you spying on me?” Harriet asked in a small voice.

Looking at the doors to the Hospital Wing Teddy whispered, “I wasn’t.”

“But you had a camera with film, lad,” Rumple began when the doors sprang open and Remus ran to Teddy’s beside.

“Teddy! What happened?”

Rumple watched as Albus slowly followed the werewolf. He steeled himself for a confrontation with the Headmaster for what he’d done to the wards. Yet, Albus seemed unaffected by the turn of events. He was content to just observe.

The bastard.

Annoyed and agitated, Rumple turned his attention back to the boy. He frowned as Teddy leaned away from his father and aunt. It was clear that their issues had affected the boy greatly. As Teddy glanced between Remus and Harriet, a guilty look crossed the boy’s face and Rumple’s frown deepened. What did that mean?

Harriet caught Teddy’s expression and stiffened. Everything finally clicked into place and a dark rage overtook her. Before anyone could stop her, her magic lashed out and slammed into Remus; sending him flying against the far wall.

Teddy cringed but didn’t say a word. Seeing the fear on the child’s face, Rumple snarled, “Harriet! Take it outside!”

She looked at Rumple, ready to argue when she saw Teddy’s face. Wincing, she turned her attention back to Remus and snarled, “Into the corridor. Teddy doesn’t need to see this.”

“What are you…..?” Remus began, but trailed off when Harriet showed him the camera film.

“Draco wanted this,” Harriet said, her voice cold, “How did he know Teddy would have it?”

“I….” Remus began but then closed his mouth and quickly exited the Hospital Wing; Harriet hot on his heels. Albus stayed with Teddy, refusing to leave him in the care of the Dark One. Yet he was surprised when Teddy began speaking to Rumplestilskin.

“She’s going to hurt da.”

Sighing deeply, Rumple agreed, “Probably.”

Teddy didn’t say anything else. Hoping to make himself as approachable as possible, Rumple sat in the chair next to the boy’s beside.

“Lad ... .why did your father have those pictures?”

Teddy didn’t say anything for a moment but then finally admitted, “Da loves auntie. He has for a long time. When you started coming around, he got jealous. I don’t know how he planned to use the pictures, but I knew he was taking them.”

“Was he working with Malfoy?” Rumple asked.

Teddy shook his head, “No….that was me.”

“I think you need to start from the beginning.” Rumple said kindly.

Albus looked between the boy and Rumple, completely flabbergasted at what he was witnessing.

“What if I don’t want to talk to you,” Teddy petulantly asked. Rumple bit his inner cheek to keep from smiling. He had the lad right where he wanted him.

“Would it be easier to tell your aunt?” Rumple asked, knowing perfectly well what the boy’s reaction would be.

Teddy blanched. Twirling the blanket in between his fingers, he said, “No….that would be awful.”

“Then I suggest you start from the beginning lad,” Rumple began, leaning forward and giving Teddy his undivided attention.

Teddy swallowed and hesitantly began, “Well….it started a few days ago.”

Harriet backed Remus into the wall. She wanted nothing more than to take his head off.

“How could you?” Harriet snarled, her voice cold and devoid of all emotion.

Remus inched away from her, “I…… don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Harriet whispered, her anger simmering. She clenched her fists and stared daggers at Remus.

“I just thought he looked shady,” Remus replied, his voice hoarse, “He didn’t seem trustworthy.”

“Rumple?” Harriet asked, her voice turning high.

“Yes,” Remus replied. His shoulders slumped in defeat as he looked at the floor, “I never liked the look of him.”

“So you felt the need to…..stalk me?”

“It wasn’t….:” Remus began but then he winced, “I didn’t...think before I acted.”

Harriet just shook her head and turned away from him. Not only had he killed the last bit of love she had left for him, but whatever respect she had for the wolf was gone.

“I should throw you out of Grimmauld Place,” Harriet replied, her voice cold, “and let the Ministry know they can take your sorry ass off to the Moors.”

Remus swallowed as his face drained of all color.

“However,” Harriet growled, “I love Teddy like my own child. I would never do anything to separate the two of you.”

Remus sighed in relief and he took a step toward Harriet. Disgusted with him, she took a step back.

“That doesn’t mean I want you in my life.”

“I’m sorry” Remus replied, his voice cracking, “If I could take it back I would.”

“The question we need answered now is how would Draco Malfoy know about the pictures?” Harriet mused, ignoring Remus. She crossed her arms as she paced in front of the heartbroken werewolf.

Remus quietly replied, “I don’t know. I never spoke with Draco. The pictures were only for my use.”

Harriet made a disgusted face and Remus had the grace to look ashamed, “Not…..not like that….I meant as proof….”

“Proof of what?” Harriet growled, “That Rumple’s a better friend than you?”

Remus hung his head in shame.

Suddenly the doors opened and Albus stuck his head out into the corridor, “I think the two of you should come back inside.”

Harriet gave Remus one final glare before she turned on her slippered feet and charged into the Hospital Wing. Remus slowly followed, feeling more ashamed of his actions then he ever had of being a werewolf.

What would Lily and James think of him now?

Chapter Text

Storybrooke

Belle groaned as she slowly awoke, her head pounding. Gently she rubbed her eyes, trying to bring herself some relief from the pain when she suddenly froze. She was lying on the floor.

Had she fallen off the couch?

She racked her brain to remember, but her mind was sluggish. Sitting up, she slowly opened her eyes, but all she could see was an inky blackness. The more she stared into the darkness, the more she noticed how the darkness swelled and ebbed. Almost like breathing.

Trembling, Belle squeezed her eyes shut and called out, “Hello!”

Nobody responded, leaving her in deafening silence. Swallowing her nervousness, Belle once again opened her eyes and strained to see if anyone was there. Unfortunately, she could barely see an inch from her own face. Her fear grew and as she began to shake, her breathing turned ragged.

She couldn’t be locked away again. She just couldn’t.

She wrapped her arms around herself, panic squeezing her heart, when she suddenly heard footsteps. They were faint at first but quickly grew closer. A loud creak ripped through the darkness and a light erupted a few feet from her face, making her wince and turn away.

“Mr. Mills!” a familiar voice shouted, “Mrs. Gold is awake!”

“Henry?” Belle whispered, rubbing at her eyes again, “Mr. Cogsworth?”

Blinking in the light, Belle slowly stood, wobbly on her feet. Stumbling forward she grasped slender metal bars and gasped.

She was locked inside a cage.

Again.

“What’s happening?” Belle asked as she stumbled away from the bars, confused and scared. She felt her heart in her throat as her fear spiked, but she forced her breathing to remain normal. Since being released from the mental institution, Belle couldn’t abide being held against her will.

“Why am I in a cage?” Belle asked, her voice shaking. Looking frantically around, her eyes landed on Henry silhouetted in the doorway. Shooting forward, Belle wrapped one hand around the metal bars and reached toward her step-grandson with the other.

“Henry? What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry about this,” He replied, his voice strained.

He then walked toward her and Belle gasped when she saw he was carrying the Dark One’s dagger. He was holding on to it so tightly his knuckles were a sickly white in the lamplight. It was as if he were afraid someone would rip it from him.

Which was a reasonable fear. There had been many times over the past few months where she would catch herself clinging to the blade. It wasn’t until recently that she questioned why.

Seeing the fearful look on Henry's face, her heart went out to him.

“We were sure grandpapa would have answered the phone before you woke up,” Henry continued, “but he hasn’t, and we couldn’t afford you escaping and telling my mom's where I’m at.”

“Why are you hiding from your mothers?” Belle asked, eyeing Cogsworth suspiciously, “Has HE been filling your head with lies?”

“Mr. Cogsworth?” Henry asked, startled, “Of course not. He’s been helping me.”

“Henry, you don’t know what he is,” Belle said, taking a step away from Cogsworth. He had slowly crept closer while she was distracted and she found his close proximity upsetting.

“Of course,” Cogsworth sneered, “According to you, I would be subhuman.”

“I….” Belle sputtered, “That’s not what….”

“Spare me,” Cogsworth replied, “ You hate magic users. You always have.”

“I don’t like it when magic is used improperly,” Belle defended herself, “but I hardly hate magic users. I married one!”

“And you banished him soon after!”

“I had to!” Belle yelled, her voice cracking along with her heart. She knew Cogsworth was loyal to Rumple, but she hadn’t realized it was of his own volition. She had always assumed that Rumple had made a deal with Cogsworth; one that he would be happy escaping.

Clearly she’d been wrong.

Cogsworth snorted, his agitation leaking into the shadows, causing them to darken and twist violently in the lamplight.

“I don’t care what you think of him,” Henry said, his eyes trained on Belle, “Grandpapa trusts him and that’s all I need to know.”

“He trusts me,” Belle began but Henry just rolled his eyes.

“He doesn’t,” Henry said, cutting Belle off, “Which is why you’re in a cage. At least until he gets here and tells us what to do with you.”

“What to do with me?” Belle echoed, her voice lost. Would they….kill her?

“Oh for fucks sake,” Cogsworth said, his usual polished accent turning thick, “We arn’t gonna hurt you.”

“No,” Henry said, “but we may have to obliviate her.”

“Obliviate?” Cogsworth asked.

“It’s a spell to suppress memories,” Henry replied and Belle whimpered.

Not her memories. Not again.

“Please Henry,” Belle begged, “Please don’t fall into Darkness. I know the dagger is powerful….” Belle swallowed, realizing how much lighter she felt without it, “but you have to resist it.”

“Which is why I’m waiting until grandpapa gets back,” Henry replied, turning his back on her.

“He can’t come back!” Belle yelled, “He’s banished Henry! Please let the dagger go!”

“You don’t know as much as you think, Mrs. Gold,” Cogsworth sneered, moving toward the door.

Belle watched helplessly as Henry and Cogsworth left, shutting the door firmly behind them and leaving her in the swirling darkness. Whimpering, Belle stumbled backward until she bumped into a cold wall. Crumpling to the ground, she curled in on herself and began to sob. Her worst nightmares were once again coming true and she was powerless to stop it.

Again.

Why was she always so useless?

Hogwarts

“Why would you do this?” Harriet asked, her voice strained as she paced in front of Teddy’s hospital bed.

“I don’t know….” Teddy replied, shrugging. He refused to look at his aunt which only seemed to agitate Harriet further.

Rumple cocked his eyebrow at Teddy, “The truth, lad.”

“I don’t care for the tone you’re taking with my son!” Remus snarled, glaring at Rumpelstiltskin.

“Stop!” Teddy yelled, startling Remus and causing Harriet to pause midstride.

Silence descended upon the Hospital Wing until Remus overcame his shock and glared at Rumpelstiltskin, “What did you do to him?”

“He has done nothing to your son, Remus,” Albus replied in irritation, “I was here for their entire conversation.”

Rumple glanced at Albus while the Headmaster eyed him with unconcealed surprise, “He was good with the boy.”

“Of course he was,” Harriet said protectively, “He’s good with children. Rose and Hugo adore him.”

Rumple smiled softly at Harriet’s protectiveness, but as his eyes landed on Teddy, his smile dropped and he turned serious, "You need to listen to the boy. He has some hard truths for the both of you.”

Harriet blanched, “Truths?”

Remus swallowed, “Hard?”

They both stared at Teddy, their eyes filled with expectation, when he suddenly sat up and bellowed, “I HATE YOU!”

Remus took a step back while Harriet stood rigidly at Teddy’s side. Swallowing, she asked, “Is that why you worked with Draco? Because you hate us?”

“Just you,” Teddy snarled, his face twisting in anger and frustration. He wanted her to yell and scream, to cry even. Yet, she remained stoic as she stood by his side.

Rumple leaned forward in his chair, “Lad, why are you trying to get a reaction from your aunt?”

Teddy snorted, “She would have to care first.”

Harriet narrowed her eyes, “And you don’t think I do?”

“Of course not!” Teddy yelled, “ You act like I don’t even exist! Like you were never a part of our family!”

Deafening silence rang throughout the Hospital Wing. Tears pricked at the corner of Harriet’s eyes, but she refused to allow herself to cry. She stood rigidly next to Teddy, her gaze never wavering from her godson.

The least she could do was witness the pain she’d caused.

“That’s my fault Teddy,” Remus finally said, his voice low. Glancing at Harriet, who refused to look at him, he continued, “She’s been sick.”

Teddy snorted, “She looks fine to me.”

“That’s because you’ve never seen her well.” Rumple gently reminded him.

Teddy just shrugged, twisting the bedsheets in-between his fingers, and refusing to meet anyone’s eye. It reminded Rumple so much of Harriet that his heart burned. She may not have birthed the boy, but she had left her mark on him.Teddy was hers, just as much as Bae had been his. If he cared for Harriet, he knew he must extend that same emotion to the boy.

No matter who his father was.

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Rumple stood and sat on the boy’s bed, giving Teddy no other option but to meet his gaze. Uncomfortable with the Dark One’s close proximity to his son, Remus growled low in his throat, prompting Albus to place a restraining hand on Remus’s shoulder.

Rumple forced himself to ignore the wolf and focus solely on the child in front of him. Gently he asked, “Do you know who I am?’

Teddy sat quietly for a moment before answering, “Mr. Malfoy said you were He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named

“Correct,” Rumple replied, his voice stiff as a shiver ran up his spine. It’d been so long since he’d heard that moniker, he’d almost forgotten it.

“Ah .... they’re still afraid of us,” The Darkness whispered smugly.

Rumple watched as Teddy bit his lip, obviously uneasy with Rumpelstiltskin’s presence. Forcing himself to relax, Rumple hoped his open demeanor would encourage the boy to speak.

“My influence,” Rumple continued, “Left a mark on your aunt and eventually led to her illness.”

Harriet gritted her teeth and rolled her eyes. Why were they all tiptoeing around her problem? By not naming it, they were giving it far too much power, and she was tired of being beholden to it.

“She’s tried very hard to keep it from you,” Rumple continued, hiding a grimace as pain began traveling up his right arm, “To protect you as much as possible.”

“Oh fuck this,” Harriet muttered to herself. Clearing her throat, she cut Rumple off. “Teddy, I’m a drunk.”

“What?” Teddy sputtered, startled by Harriet’s interruption.

Rumple was relieved she’d taken over the conversation as his chest began constricting. He forced himself to remain calm, so as not to alarm anyone, yet he couldn’t stop his hands from balling into fists or his face from grimacing. The heart attack was painful, but Rumple didn’t fear for his life this time.

“Do you know what an alcoholic is?” Harriet asked, sitting next to Teddy. Her entire attention was, for once, on her godson, blinding her to Rumple’s pain

“Yeah,” Teddy replied with a frown, “One of my housemate’s dad drinks too much.”

Harriet smiled sadly but before she could reply Remus interrupted her with a long, suffering sigh. “I didn’t want you to see that, Teddy.

Harriet glared at him as he continued, “So unless I was there, I kept you from being alone with her.”

“Which I’m grateful for,” Harriet interrupted, “I wasn’t…. I couldn’t have taken care of you properly.”

Teddy shifted nervously and asked, “So you were….drinking?”

“Yes,” Harriet replied.

“Why would you do that?”

Harriet swallowed “It was just…. everything Teddy…. everything just became too much.”

“I don’t understand,” Teddy whispered, his voice small and sad.

Harriet grimaced, “It’s….my relatives weren’t the nicest people. They mistreated me.”

Teddy nodded, he knew about the Dursleys. He had overheard her yelling about them once. Looking back, he wondered if she was drunk.

“When I came to Hogwarts, people treated me differently because they thought I’d defeated Lord Voldemort. Some people wanted to be my friend, some were indifferent, and others thought I would be just like him.”

Teddy frowned but didn’t interrupt.

“The entire time I was at Hogwarts I had to deal with Voldemort, his death eaters, the Ministry, other students, and a lot of attempts to kill me.”

Teddy glanced at Rumple. His face was twisted in a grimace and his fists were clenched. Taking a ragged breath, he said tightly, “She isn’t exaggerating either. I was rather a menace.”

Harriet bit her lip and reached out to Rumple, but he shook his head slightly causing Harriet’s hand to fall limply to her side. Now that her attention wasn’t solely on Teddy, she could feel Rumple’s anxiety. Reaching out, she could even feel his pain, however faintly.

The heart attacks were happening so frequently. Would they even be able to make it to Storybrooke?

Breathing deeply, she focused on Rumple’s feelings and pushed them to the back of her mind, preferring to focus her attention on Teddy. He needed to understand, at least a little, what had happened to her, “Not only did I have to deal with Rumple, but Delores Umbridge was the single worst teacher we ever had. She would abuse her students.”

Professor Dumbledore interrupted, his voice solemn, “It was my single greatest failure as the Headmaster of Hogwarts.”

Rumpelstiltskin snorted and rolled his eyes, not buying Dumbledore’s flimsy excuses, but not feeling strong enough to fight with the Headmaster about it. His heart attack had left him feeling drained and tired; so tired that he was unsure his usual spinning would help him recover his strength. He hadn’t felt this tired since before Emma had broken the Dark Curse.

He almost felt human.

Focusing his attention back to Teddy and Harriet, Rumple rubbed his chest with his knuckles. The pain was slowly receding, and Rumple was thankful it hadn’t been worse.

Harriet's shoulders slumped and once again her heart broke where Albus Dumbledore was concerned. Of course, he wouldn’t deem her death as his failure. To him, it had been necessary. Feeling vulnerable, she no longer wished to discuss her shortcomings in front of the Headmaster, “It’s late. We all need to rest.”

“We aren’t leaving him here?” Rumple asked, caught off guard by the abrupt subject change.

“I…” Harriet began but Remus cut her off.

“You’re not taking my son from me.”

“Of course not, you idiot,” Rumple sneered, “You’re coming too.”

“Excuse me?”

“For some reason,” Rumple stood and winced at the soreness in his chest, “Draco Malfoy has set himself against Harriet. Until we can understand why, we should all work together. Grimmauld Place is unplottable, isn’t it? We can all stay there until we can decide our next steps.”

Albus started at Rumple appraisingly for a long moment. Finally, he said, “The wards may have fallen, but Hogwarts is still safe. Teddy should stay in the Hospital Wing tonight with Remus.”

Remus gently placed his hand on Teddy’s arm. He stiffened for a moment before he leaned against his father’s side and silently cried.

“I will have Remus show me the trapdoor that you used,” Albus continued, “That way we can be sure that Hogwarts is completely secured.”

Rumple frowned but nodded. He saw the wisdom in Albus’ words, but losing the extra way into Hogwarts was a blow to any future espionage he and Harriet might have to engage in. He glanced in Harriet’s direction, to see how she was taking the news, and felt his stomach clench. She was staring at Teddy and Remus with such longing that Rumple had to look away.

Harriet ached to hold Teddy like she used to. Yet, she was beginning to see that it was no longer her place. As much as she would always feel like Teddy’s mother, she was beginning to realize that Teddy may not feel the same. Not that she could blame him. She had pushed him away. He had needed her, and she hadn’t prioritized him.

Why would he prioritize her?

Harriet sighed and absently reached her hand out to Rumple, “Let’s go, Rum. We have a lot to discuss.”

Rumple impassively looked between Harriet and the Lupins. The naked longing on Harriet’s face made him wonder just what Harriet longed for. Was it just Teddy that she wanted? Or was it Remus too?

Was his presence keeping her from her family?

As much as he disliked Remus Lupin, if he was her true love…..

“She is ours,” The Darkness hissed, and dread pooled in his stomach. Was it too late to pull away? To stand aside?

Did he even want to? They had almost kissed. Harriet must feel something for him too.

Unless she was ashamed of it?

His thoughts plaguing him, he firmly took her hand in his. Tugging her close, he wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes as he smelled her hair. It was a moment of weakness, one born out of his jealousy. He was sure nobody would have noticed, until he opened his eyes to a shocked Albus Dumbledore.

Refusing to feel ashamed, he nodded once to Albus and apparated them away from Hogwarts.

Storybrooke

Henry paced Cogsworth's living room as the voices in his head became louder. The more he doubted himself, the more the voices tried to manipulate his feelings toward Rumplestilskin.

“He doesn’t love you.” The voices hissed.

“He doesn’t want you around.” They shouted.

“He’s only using you.” They chuckled

Shaking his head to silence the voices, Henry shouted, “Shut up!”

He then threw the dagger on the couch and took a few steps back. Cogsworth listened from the hall, lingering by the bedroom door to make sure that it was locked. His shadows were guarding the door, and he was reasonably sure the cage illusion would hold, but he would be remiss if he didn't simply lock the door behind them.

Henry couldn’t understand why the dagger was affecting him so quickly. With Belle, it had manipulated her passively, taking months to latch onto her. Yet, it was responding to him in full force. Was it because he was the truest believer? Or was it something else?

Was it responding to his familial connection with Lord Voldemort? Or was it latching onto his own darkness? Was he more prone to darkness being Lord Voldemort’s grandson?

Frightened, Henry sat on the floor. He was loath to touch the dagger, but unwilling to leave it alone. He wanted to protect his grandpapa, and he could only do that if the dagger was safe from others. Grimacing, he brought his legs up and leaned his chin on his knee. He glanced at Cogsworth, but the older man’s phone began to ring and he hurried to the kitchen to answer it.

“Please,” Henry whispered to himself as he stared at the dagger, “Please let it be grandpapa.”

From the kitchen, Cogsworth watched Henry rock back and forth. He didn’t want the lad to hear his conversation with Rumpelstiltskin, but he was leery about leaving the boy alone. He felt oddly protective of his young charge and wanted to minimize any backlash the boy might face. Quickly, he answered the phone and braced himself for the Dark One’s temper.

“Sir….” Cogsworth began, but was quickly cut off.

“What in the hell is going on Cogsworth!” Rumplestilskin yelled, causing him to pull the phone from his ear.

“We had to, sir,” Cogsworth hurriedly replied.

“Why?” Rumpelstiltskin snarled and Cogsworth was suddenly grateful he was relaying the news over the phone.

“Henry overhead Regina planning to steal the dagger,” Cogsworth replied quickly, “So he ran away. We needed to make sure that both her and the dagger were safe sir.”

Rumple went quiet and Cogsworth winced.

“Sir?” Cogsworth began, but Rumple cut him off.

“Get the scroll,” Rumpelstiltskin commanded, his voice devoid of emotion.

“Yes sir,” Cogsworth agreed, “I’ll go and collect Dr. Hopper.”

“No,” Rumpelstiltskin growled, “I will call him. You stay and protect my family.”

“Sir….” Cogsworth began delicately, “Please encourage Dr. Hopper to hurry. Henry said…. he has your dagger sir and…. well…the boy doesn’t look good.”

There was a chilly silence on the other end before the line went completely dead.

Cogsworth stared at his phone for a moment and then left the kitchen to check on Henry. The poor boy was folding in on himself, tears cascading down his face.

“Henry?” Cogsworth muttered as he kneeled next to the boy.

“I just want Grandpapa,” Henry whispered, “The dagger…. it’s whispering to me.”

“Your grandfather is on his way,” Cogsworth placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder, struggling to hide how alarmed he was becoming, “He’s calling Dr. Hopper now.”

“I don’t think I can wait,” Henry whispered.

“You are going to have to Mr. Mills,” Cogsworth replied, and Henry leaned his forward against his knees, effectively ending their conversation.

Cogsworth sighed and glanced at the dagger.

It was never good when a Stilskin started hearing voices.

London

As soon as they appeared in the foyer, Harriet sprang into action. She called Kreacher and Winky and instructed them to gather supplies for herself and Rumpelstiltskin. While they hadn’t spoken of their next moves, Harriet wanted to be prepared. Draco had been two steps ahead of them, but now they were on an even playing field and she wanted to keep it that way.

Pulling out the camera film from her pocket, Harriet stared at it and sighed. Her heart was screaming at her to stay and protect those she loved, but her instincts were telling her to go to Storybrooke. She didn’t know if it was wishful thinking or if she really believed that Storybrooke held the answers. It had been such a long time since she’d listened to her instincts, and she worried they weren’t as sharp as they used to be.

Feeling torn, Harriet marched into her bedroom and threw the film on her vanity. She was interested to see what was on it, but acknowledged now wasn’t the time. She needed to speak with Ron and Hermione. Searching through her pockets, she winced when she realized she left her phone in the forest.

“Damn,” Harriet muttered.

“Kreacher!” She yelled.

Kreacher appeared and said, “Yes Mistress?”

“I left my phone in the Forbidden Forest,” Harriet replied, running her fingers through her hair in irritation, “Will you please get it for me?”

Kreacher bowed, “Of course Mistress.”

Smiling tiredly at Kreacher, she gave him detailed instructions on how to get to the clearing. Once he left, she flopped onto her bed and groaned in satisfaction. She was so tired, and it felt wonderful to get off her feet.

Yet, she was worried about Ron and Hermione. Standing up, she grabbed a notepad and pen and explained what she could. Calling for Winky, she gave the note to the elf with instructions to allow no one else but Ron or Hermione to read it. Winky bowed solemnly and then left, leaving Harriet to fall back onto her bed.

Snuggling into her pillow, she felt her eyes begin to droop. She knew she shouldn’t sleep, but it was late, and she was exhausted. She was in that wonderful place between sleep and awake, when the front door slammed shut. Springing up, Harriet stumbled into the living room only to be met with an irate Dark One.

“What’s wrong?” Harriet asked tiredly, wiping at her tired eyes. It struck her as odd that she hadn’t felt Rumple’s emotions. He was clearly angry. Confused, she focused on their connection and felt her temper suddenly spike. Quickly, she pulled away from his emotions and slammed an invisible door between them. Her feelings were once again her own.

Well…. fuck...she had finally learned Occlumency.

“Won’t Severus be proud,” Harriet thought, dryly.

“They kidnapped Belle!” Rumple yelled, pacing the length of the living room.

“Who?” Harriet asked, confused, “Draco? How could he have gotten into Storybrooke?”

“No,” Rumple scoffed, looking at Harriet in annoyance, “Henry and Cogsworth.”

“Come again?’ Harriet was suddenly fully awake, despite feeling like she was wading through concrete “Henry…. he’s just a boy?”

“Yeah,” Rumple snarled in reply, “So was I.”

“Are you saying Henry….” Harriet began, but Rumple cut her off.

“No,” Rumple stopped and sighed, running his hand wearily down his face, “No Harriet I’m not saying he’s like me.” Halfheartedly smirking, he said, “He’s more like you.”

“I have never kidnapped someone in my life,” Harriet replied indignantly.

“Maybe not,” Rumple replied, “but you’re about to learn.”

“Excuse me?” Harriet was not liking the direction of this conversation.

“Regina is looking for my dagger,” Rumple replied, his sarcasm dripping, “and Cogsworth in his infinite wisdom thought kidnapping Belle was the only way to protect her and the dagger.”

Harriet groaned and put her head in her hands. She was far too tired for this added complication.

“They’ve been trying to call me all night,” Rumple continued his pacing, “I called Dr. Hopper to steal the scroll, but I’m worried there will be additional problems.”

“Rum….” Harriet reached out and interrupted his pacing. As she took his hand in hers, the events of the night replayed in her mind. The way his hands had felt on her hips, the way his body moved seamlessly with hers. Their eyes locked and her newly erected barriers were quickly overwhelmed by Rumpelstiltskin’s emotions. She felt his anger, which was nothing new. He was always a little bit angry, but the anger was quickly doused by fear.

“Why are you afraid, Rum?” Harriet asked.

“Henry has my dagger,” Rumple said, his voice quiet. Choosing to ignore how his pulse raced with Harriet so close, “What if…. what if it corrupts him? Cogsworth said he isn’t doing well.”

Harriet winced while Rumpelstiltskin continued, “I can’t just wait here for Dr. Hopper to get the scroll, Beauty. My grandson needs me.”

He pulled away from her and began pacing again. His nerves not allowing him to stand still for long, “Eventually Regina and Emma are going to notice that Henry is gone.”

Harriet’s head began to pound from lack of sleep, but she determinedly ignored it. There was too much to do to rest, yet she knew if she didn’t, she would collapse. She had only just recently started gaining strength. She needed everything to pause.

“Bring Belle here,” Harriet said, inspiration striking her.

Rumple stopped and slowly turned, “What?”

A plan began forming in Harriet’s mind, a way for both their families to remain safe.

“Grimmauld Place is already unplottable,” Harriet said, her arms crossed in thought, “Cogsworth can bring the dagger and Belle to the town line. All he would have to do is push her over with the dagger and you can take possession of it. Both will be safe from Regina here.”

“I….Rumple swallowed, “What about Henry?”

“Without the dagger in Storybrooke,” Harriet said with a shrug, “There isn’t anything to fear from Regina.”

“She could use Henry against me,” Rumple muttered, but he also knew that Regina would rather die than hurt Henry. He would be safe without the dagger in town. His wife…..not so much.

“It….will you be okay with Belle here?” Rumple asked, nervously licking his lips.

Harriet stiffened and turned away. Would she? The feelings she had developed for Rumpelstiltskin were intense. Would she be okay sharing her space with his wife? Would she be okay sharing him?

Did she even have a choice?

“I…don't know…...but we don’t really have a choice, Rum.”

“In the clearing….” Rumple began but Harriet cut him off, “I…we can’t talk about that right now Rumple. Not…. not while you’re still married.”

Rumple felt like he’d been slapped, “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to be the reason you divorce,” Harriet bluntly replied, “We only just started……. we…we are barely even friends, Rumple! Do you really see us as lovers?”

Rumple took a step back, ignoring the Darkness in his head yelling at him to say something; to share his suspicions that they may be more than just mere lovers…. that they could be true love.

“I don’t know….” Rumple replied, thinking about everything that lay between them. His wife, her parents, his impending death. Did he want to break her heart that way? Make her fall in love with him, only for him to die? At best, he would be leaving her alone; at worst he would be taking her with him.

What was the right move?

For once, Rumple didn’t know. All he knew was the idea of denying his feelings for Harriet was repulsive to him. It made him feel physically ill.

“But what I do know is apart from my son and grandson, you are the most important person in my life!

“You are married!” Harriet yelled, more to herself than at Rumple, “I can’t be involved with a married man!”

“We are separated,” Rumple quickly replied, stepping toward her as if to embrace her, but Harriet put space between, “We are going to divorce.”

“You can’t know that Rumple,” Harriet began but Rumple cut her off.

“She’s fucking another man!”

“She had the dagger,” Harriet replied, her voice low, “It was influencing her.”

“It didn’t influence her to banish me,” Rumple said, “That was Belle’s decision.”

Harriet didn’t reply so Rumple continued, “When she finds out about my past, that’s it Harriet. The marriage is over. She will not stand with me.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Harriet asked, choking on her words.

Rumple stared at her for a moment before he slowly walked toward her. She was hunched in on herself, distress written across her face, yet she didn’t pull away from him. Placing his hands on her elbows, he drew her to his chest and said desperately, “No. I take no joy in my failure of a marriage, but….” Rumple paused and swallowed, his throat dry and husky, “but the feelings I feel for you…. the admiration and respect……the ...need to be around you…. I can’t explain it, Harriet. It’s….overwhelming.”

Desperate to know what he truly felt, she allowed his emotions to overwhelm her own. The admiration he felt, the respect and caring were all there.He was being honest. Yet……as his feelings wrapped themselves around her mind, she felt a darker emotion spike through the rest.

Possessiveness.

Her heart rate spiked, and she flushed in excitement. Yet, she was also repulsed by her own feelings. Overwhelmed, she ripped her mind from his, causing Rumple to wince in pain. Tightening his hold on her elbows he whispered, “Harriet?”

“I’m not a possession,” Harriet’s voice shook. What the fuck was wrong with her?

“I know,” Rumple began, appalled that she had been able to feel his darker emotions, “The Darkness….”

But Harriet cut him off, “The Darkness is you, Rumple.”

Some part of him wanted to possess her. Was it…..like before? Like in her fifth year or had it been….something else?

“Of course it had been something else,” She thought, “Or you wouldn’t have liked it.”

Rumple just stood there and swallowed, “I wouldn’t act on it.”

Harriet felt an overwhelming urge to flee into her bedroom. Everything was far too complicated, and she was exhausted. Yet, the front door sprang open, and Ron rushed into the living room.

“Draco. Fucking. Malfoy?” Ron shouted, only to abruptly halt his tirade.

Harriet and Rumple sprang apart. Needing some space, Rumple hobbled toward the kitchenette determined to master his emotions. It wouldn’t do for Weasley to see him overwrought.

Harriet hugged herself and said, “Yes Ron.”

“Draco?” Ron asked again, yet he was looking between Harriet and Rumple suspiciously

“Yes,” Harriet replied, refusing to look at Rumple, “We don’t know where he’s at, so you, Hermione and the children should stay here.”

“Here?” Ron looked around and then sighed, “We’ll have to return the house to its original state Harry.”

“I know,” Harriet replied, “But I’m exhausted. I don’t think I can.”

“Don’t worry Mistress,” Kreacher said as he appeared beside her, holding out her phone, “Winky and I will start on it.”

“Yes miss,” Winky agreed as she suddenly appeared at Kreacher’s side. She glared at her Mistress and said nothing more.

“Just make sure Remus and Teddy keep as much of their home as possible,” Harriet replied absently.

“Yes, Mistress,” The elves chorused. Harriet nodded and then headed toward the back door, “Come on you two, it’s easier for them to work if we’re outside”

Rumple felt his phone buzz, pulling it from his pocket, the color drained from his face.

“I have to go,” Rumple announced and before Harriet could question him, he was gone.

“Make sure you add four rooms Kreacher,” Harriet said dryly, knowing where he went without being told, “We’re going to have another guest.

“Who?” Ron wondered but Harriet just shook her head and walked into the backyard.

“Make sure your family has everything Ron,” Harriet tiredly replied, “I would help, but I need to rest.”

She left Ron in the living room, staring after her in dread.

Malfoy Manor

Draco slammed the empty film tube against a wall while yelling in frustration. He had been so close in destroying Potter. Everyone knowing that she had succumbed to Voldemort’s charms would have been the ultimate revenge. The film would have proven that she was no better than the rest of wizarding society.

That she wasn’t a real hero.

Yet the little half-blood wolf tricked him! At the last moment he’d been distracted, and the brat had the presence of mind to steal the film. He knew he shouldn’t be so surprised. Potter was his guardian, after all. Despite how absent she seemed now, something of her nature must have rubbed off on the little monster.

Anger coursed through him as he paced the length of his childhood bedroom. He knew he needed to calm down. If his mother found out what he was doing, she would disapprove. Since the war, she’d been able to move past her loss and see the world anew. His father, however, refused to let go of the pureblood ideology that had sustained him, becoming a shell of his former shelf.

He blamed Potter for that too.

Glancing at himself in the mirror, Draco rubbed at his eye. Since leaving Storybrooke, they had become irritated, dry, and generally uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure why and every time he tried to focus on it, his mind would spiral back into obsessed thoughts of revenge.

Shaking his head, he made himself focus on his girlfriend. The sudden urge to destroy Potter had been overwhelming and he had immediately abandoned her despite the sudden chaos that had erupted in the town. He could still hear her scream for him as he apparated to the townline. Sudden fear spiked through him. The town had been in chaos when he left, and he didn’t know if Lily had been hurt.

Why hadn’t he realized that before now? Why hadn’t he worried before now?

Pulling out his phone he called her.

“Draco?” Lily whispered on the other end of the phone.

“Lilith,” Draco breathed in relief, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Lily replied, her voice uncertain, “Are you?”

“I’m fine love,” Draco replied, smiling for the first time in weeks, “I’m in England.”

“Why?” Lily asked and Draco frowned as he heard the fear in her voice.

“I have business with Potter,” Draco growled, unable to keep his hatred to himself even when saying her name.

“But Draco I thought….” then Lily stopped.

“What?”

“Where are you in England,” Lily asked. Draco heard rustling on the other end, “I’m coming to you.”

Draco felt his pulse spike and he glanced at his door. While it was surprising to find out cell phones worked in Malfoy Manor, he didn’t want his mother or father to know he had one.

Or to know about Lily.

“I don’t think,” Draco began but Lily cut him off, “I have to come see you Draco.”

“I’ll be back soon,” Draco said.

“I’m coming, Draco,” Lily firmly replied, and Draco frowned.

“I’ll meet you in London then.”

“Fine.” Lily replied, “I’ll call you when I get there.”

Then she hung up the phone.

Draco looked at the phone and then at himself in the mirror. For the first time, he realized how terrible he looked. He was sickly pale and the skin around his eyes were red and inflamed.

What was wrong with him? Draco felt sure he should be worried, but his thoughts once again spiraled toward revenge.

He was going to destroy Harry Potter, if it was the last thing he ever did.

Chapter Text

Storybrooke

Emma wiped at her watery eyes and stifled a yawn as she completed the last report. Leaning back in her chair she saved the document and uploaded it into the station's server.

She could finally go home.

Exhausted, Emma glanced at the clock on the wall and grimaced. It was midnight and she hadn’t told anyone she would be late. Grabbing her phone, she winced. There were several missed calls from her parents and even an, “I love you” text from Henry. Carefully laying the phone down, Emma looked away; ashamed and frustrated with herself.

All her life she wanted a family, yet now that she had one, she ignored them, especially Henry. She knew he needed her. His father had been killed, and his grandfather had been banished soon after, but she couldn’t make herself feel bad about it.

She couldn’t feel much these days.

She was running on steam and the very least number of emotions she needed to survive. Too much had happened over the last two and a half years, and she hadn’t properly come to terms with any of it. She wasn’t even sure how.

She had lost and found a family; only to lose them again. She had fake memories that plagued her at inappropriate times. A newborn baby brother that seemed born to replace her, a co-parent that was losing her mind, a boyfriend that couldn’t keep his eyes off other women, and a child in emotional turmoil. Not to mention a town that seemed hell bent on destroying itself.

It was all just too much.

Feeling exhausted by the circular direction of her thoughts, Emma was abruptly pulled from her musings by the slow clicking of boot heels. Peering out her office window, she saw a woman standing in the middle of the bullpen, studying her surroundings. Quickly, Emma walked to her office door and jerked it open.

“May I help you?”

The woman ignored her. Frustrated, Emma took a step forward and asked, “Hey, what do you want?”

“As the Sheriff, shouldn't you be nicer?” The woman asked as she turned, a glimmer of amusement in her dark eyes.

“It’s late,” Emma replied, crossing her arms as she struggled to keep her face blank, “What can I help you with?”

“You really don’t recognize me?”

“No,” Emma bluntly replied, “Should I?’

Yet even as Emma asked, she was struck with a familiarity she didn’t understand. Nothing about the woman stood out. Her clothing was nondescript, her hair generic, and her voice held no accent. Everything about the woman seemed designed to be unremarkable, yet Emma felt like she should know her.

Feeling uneasy, Emma asked, “Why don’t you remind me?”

“We were kids,” She replied, glancing around at her surroundings, “We were friends .... until we weren’t.”

Emma’s eyes widened, “Lily?”

“Hey Emma.”

“But….” Emma frowned, “What are you doing in Storybrooke?”

“You’re not the only one from the Enchanted Forest,” Lily said as she prowled the bullpen.

Frowning, Emma felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. There was something predatory in the way Lily held herself. Feeling her unease grow, Emma casually took a few steps away from her unexpected guest; making sure to stand closer to the station’s entrance. Lily only smirked as she stepped closer to Emma’s office.

“Do you need help finding your parents?” Emma cautiously asked, her heart beginning to race, “I’m great at finding people.”

“I know,” Lily said, turning her back on Emma, “and I did think about asking for your help.”

“But?”

“But,” Lily drawled, looking over her shoulder, eyes glowing yellow, “Then I discovered who my mother was.”

Emma’s eyes widened as Lily reared back and fire erupted from her mouth. Hurling herself out of the way, she landed hard against a desk and felt her head connect with a corner. Pain blossomed behind her eyes as the station began to sway and tilt. A kaleidoscope of light and color made her dizzy and unsteady as she struggled to stand. Staggering against a desk chair, blood tricked into her eyes as the chair slipped from her grasp.

“The big bad Savior,” Lily sneered as she walked into Emma’s office, “Undone by a little bop to the head.”

Shaking her head, Emma winced as she lurched toward her office door, intending to stop Lily, when Emma smelled smoke. Grimacing, she grabbed the fire extinguisher beside her door and turned towards the pile of papers that had caught fire.

“Oh Emma,” Lily said as her voice deepened into a growl.

Emma slowly turned, fear smothering her ability to speak, as flames began licking the desk and climbing the walls behind her. Eyes widening in horror, she watched as Lily’s body began to morph and twist; bones snapping and breaking as her body contorted in ways that were unnatural. Wings sprouted from her back and Emma felt violently ill as she watched a long serpentine tail erupt from Lily’s body and twist around her desk. As Lily grew in size, the building began to groan and tremble under the pressure of her transformation.

Horrified, Emma staggered to the entrance, desperate to stay on her feet. A deafening roar reverberated throughout the station causing the building to vibrate. Behind her, she heard an explosion of brick and mortar as her office was ripped apart.

Stumbling out of the station. Emma tripped on the bottom step and scuffed her hands and arm on the blacktop. A huge roar resounded behind her and Emma twisted onto her back in time to see a fully formed dragon erupt from the roof, roaring into the night sky. Crawling backwards on her elbows, Emma rolled onto her hands and knees fighting to get to her feet.

A black SUV suddenly came to a screeching halt in front of her and Archie yelled from the driver’s seat, “Get in!”

With one last burst of strength, Emma ran toward Archie’s car. Pulling on the handle, she had barely thrown herself into the passenger seat when Archie threw them in reverse, a tunnel of fire narrowly missing them.

“Fuck!” Emma yelled as she slammed the passenger door shut while Archie hurriedly backed onto the road; tires squealing as he turned and drove away.

“What the hell was that?”

Emma cracked a woozy smile, “An old friend.”

Then she slumped forward.

“Emma!” Archie yelled, swerving all over the road as he tried to make sure she was breathing. He shook her hard, waking her up enough that she sat up and groaned. Slumping against the window, she quickly passed out again. Relieved, Archie wrestled with the steering until the SUV stopped swerving.

Calling Micheal, Archie yelled, “Did you see that?”

“Yes,” Micheal yelled over the whistling of the wind from the dragon’s wings as it flattened the police station and took to the sky; soaring toward the town line, “You take care of our Sheriff, I’ll call the Dark One. He must be informed of this distressing turn of events.”

Archie hung up and threw his phone on the dash before accelerating. His heart was hammering in his chest as his mind raced. What if he hadn’t been there? Would Emma have been able to get away? Would she be dead now? Was the scroll still there?

He had a feeling it wasn’t.

Archie shook his head and focused on the road, knowing that the circular nature of his thoughts would only serve to heighten his anxiety. Glancing over at Emma, he winced when he saw the blood trickle down her cheek. Frightened, he pushed on the gas, completely ignoring red lights and taking corners at an alarming speed.

Swallowing his panic, he made himself focus on the problem at hand. He knew he needed to call Snow and David, even Regina, but Henry's disappearance would be discovered if he did. He had to give Micheal and Gold enough time to decide on a new course of action. Their whole plan was upset by this unexpected attack, and it would take time to regroup.

The hospital came into view as the car skidded around a corner and he sighed in relief. Glancing in Emma’s direction, Archie’s face softened as he reached out and skimmed his fingertips along the back of her arm. Snatching his hand back, he blushed profusely as the SUV skidded to a stop in front of the E.R.

Being at odds with her was far more difficult for him then he’d originally anticipated.

Nurses rushed out the door and quickly placed Emma on a stretcher. Archie kept pace as they hurried down the hall, explaining what had happened to the best of his ability. Finally, they pushed Emma into a room and asked Archie to move his car and have a seat in the waiting room. Breathing heavily, Archie nodded and quietly left the hospital.

Jogging to his car, he quickly moved it to an appropriate parking space and checked his phone. He hadn’t heard from Ruby all night and he was beginning to worry. After what just happened to Emma, he wouldn’t be surprised if more was afoot that night.

Glancing upward, he watched as a cloud passed in front of the full moon and sighed in relief. He’d forgotten what time of the month it was. There was a good chance he wouldn’t hear from Ruby until the morning.

That was one less thing to worry about.

As he walked into the waiting room, his shoulders slumped, and he dragged his feet. He was exhausted and in need of guidance, but Ruby was beholden to the moon and Micheal was dealing with Rumpelstiltskin and whatever was left of the police station.

Like normal, he was alone.

Shaking off his melancholy thoughts, he decided enough time had passed to call Snow and David. He couldn’t put it off any longer or he would look suspicious. If they called Regina, that was their business. He could only hope that he’d given Micheal and Gold enough time to rethink their plans.

Ruby ran through the forest, alternating between her wolf and human form. While the full moon no longer dictated when she changed, she was still itchy and fidgety every month. She normally didn’t mind. She rather liked being a werewolf, but sometimes it could be an inconvenience. She couldn’t stay close to the town for fear of worrying its citizens, so she was forced into areas that had no cell service

Skidding to a stop, she leaned forward and breathed deeply. She was tired, but the itchiness was still there. Until it was gone, she couldn’t settle, which meant she wasn’t leaving the forest until dawn.

She prayed the town was peaceful for once.

Thirsty Ruby sniffed the air, sure a stream or a creek was nearby, when she froze. A peculiar smell was being carried on the wind, like boiling eggs and fire. Curious, Ruby transformed and followed the scent; needing all the speed her wolf could provide.

She’d only travelled a little more than a mile, when a roar resounded throughout the forest; sitting her teeth on edge and making her hackles rise. Her predatory instincts warned her of something dangerous. Transforming back into her human form, Ruby hid under a tree, unable to see the sky through the forest’s canopy. The roar had come from above.

Which wasn’t possible. Maleficent was dead and there wasn’t anything else in Storybrooke that could fly.

Right?

“That can’t possibly be good,” Ruby muttered as she sniffed the air.

Cautiously, she made her way toward the rapidly thinning trees and was surprised to see a man and a boy in the middle of the road, tussling. Sneaking closer, Ruby felt her heart leap into her throat when she realized that it was Henry and Cogsworth!

“Let go!” Henry yelled as he kicked at Cogsworth. He grunted but tightened his hold. Springing into action, Ruby dashed forward, sliding over the hood of a car and crashing into Cogsworth.

Both fell hard on the asphalt.

Slamming his elbow into her face, Cogsworth scrambled to his feet and watched Henry stumble over the town line.

“No!” Cogsworth howled as his charge disappeared in front of him.

Ignoring the pain that blossomed behind her right eye, Ruby jumped to her feet as she blocked a punch from Cogsworth. Stumbling back, she quickly found her footing. They circled each other for a moment before Ruby realized Henry was nowhere to be seen.

“What did you do to him?”

Cogsworth narrowed his eyes and snarled, “He crossed the town line, you stupid bitch!”

Ruby growled and took a threatening step closer to Cogsworth.

He just smirked, a ball of shadows gathering in his hands, “Go ahead, wolf. Give me a reason to put you down.”

Ruby froze as she narrowed her eyes, “Why did he run?”

“We had the dagger,” Cogsworth replied, "He was supposed to throw it over the town line, but the dagger….it didn’t want to go.”

“And that meant you had to attack Henry?”

“I wasn’t attacking him; I was trying to stop him from crossing over!

“It didn’t look that way,” Ruby muttered and Cogsworth rolled his eyes.

“You have made things infinitely more complicated than they had to be!” Cogsworth shouted.

Nobody spoke until Cogsworth muttered in frustration, “How are we going to keep this from his mothers?”

Ruby swallowed and looked at the town line. Nothing could be seen but a stretch of endless, empty road. Anything could be happening to Henry. Leaning against Cogsworth’s car, she wiped her hand down her face and winced as she felt her split lip and puffy eye.

She was going to look like a raccoon in the morning.

“What are we going to do?” Ruby asked, as she checked her phone. There wasn’t cell service, “Henry’s alone.”

“Rumplestilskin’s on the other side,” Cogsworth muttered, “Belle is with him. Henry won’t be alone.”

“I’m surprised Belle agreed to that,” Ruby said, thinking of Will.

“She didn’t have a choice.”

Ruby winced.

“We should go back to town,” Ruby glanced back toward Storybrooke, “Something’s happening. I heard a roar.”

“That was from the dragon,” Cogsworth tiredly replied, startling Ruby.

“A dragon?” She yelped.

“Yes,” Cogsworth confirmed, “A dragon that crossed the town line.”

“But nothing can cross without….,” Ruby said and then trailed off, “Oh god, Emma!”

“We should probably check on our illustrious Sheriff, ” Cogsworth sniffed, “She does have a tendency to work late.”

Cogsworth hurried to his car as Ruby slid into the passenger seat.

“What do you think you're doing?” Cogsworth demanded as Ruby shut the door.

“Your car is faster than my wolf.”

“I don’t want you in here!”

“I promise not to get my werewolf cooties on you,” Ruby sneered.

Cogsworth just muttered to himself as he started the car.

How was she going to explain to Archie and Michael that she lost Henry? And what the hell happened with the dragon?

Glancing over at Cogsworth, Ruby looked away in disgust. Was she really going to have to continue working with this monster? They would probably kill each other before dawn.

“I would kindly ask you not to snarl your nose in my direction,” Cogsworth snapped.

Ruby gritted her teeth as her hands balled into fists, it was going to be a long drive back to Storybrooke.

Archie smiled as he watched Emma enjoy her parents' attention, grumbling good-naturedly as Snow fluffed her pillows and David held Emma’s hand. Baby Neal was sleeping in his car seat, blissfully unaware of his surroundings while Hook stood awkwardly at the foot of her bed.

Soon after he’d entered the waiting room, the nurses had admitted Emma to the hospital. Archie had faithfully sat by her bedside until her family arrived, soothing her nightmares as she slept. Her vulnerability touched his heart, and he’d felt the overwhelming urge to wrap Emma in his arms. To protect that vulnerability from prying eyes, so Emma wouldn’t feel embarrassed.

However, once the Nolan’s and Hook arrived, he was little more than an afterthought. Archie should have been used to that by now, but it still hurt to be so ostracized from someone he cared about.

“Archie?” Emma called sleepily; she was still groggy from the medication they had given her.

“Yes Emma?” Archie nervously asked, coming to stand by her side. Pale morning light spilled over Emma’s face, making her appear angelic. He sucked in a breath and tried not to appear as nervous as he felt.

Emma smiled and unclasped her hand from David’s grip, reaching out for Archie.

“Thanks for saving me,” Emma whispered, a soft smile gracing her features.

“I’m just relieved you're okay.” Archie replied, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb.

Emma stared at their intertwined hands, “I ... .why?”

“I’ll come and check on you later Emma,” Archie said, cutting her off, “but right now, you really should rest.”

Letting go of her hand, he stepped back and bid everyone a quick goodbye, before hurrying from the hospital room. Feeling discombobulated, something he blamed on lack of sleep, he hurried to his car. Glancing at his phone, he sighed in relief when he saw a text from Micheal.

“We need to meet at noon.”

Relieved to finally have some direction, he started his car and tiredly drove to his apartment. His mind lingering on how beautiful Emma looked in the morning light.

Chapter Text

At the Town Line

Rumpelstiltskin felt anxious as he waited at the town line. Between his fear for Henry, his worry for Belle, and his general frustration with Cogsworth, he couldn’t seem to keep his composure. Beyond instructing his faithful butler to bring his wife and grandson to him, he could do nothing to protect his family.

It weighed on him.

Closing his eyes, he focused on his mental barriers, making sure to strengthen them. Harriet didn’t need his emotions disturbing her. If she didn’t rest, her recovery would be impacted, and he refused to be the reason she wasn’t well.

Pacing in front of Storybrooke’s barrier, he hobbled back and forth, trying to keep from obsessing over the argument he had with her. Instead, his thoughts drifted to Cogsworth. He had seemed quite receptive to the idea of Belle’s exit from Storybrooke and the dagger’s relocation.

Was he finally overwhelmed?

For as long as he’d known Cogsworth, nothing seemed to faze him. However, tonight had been different. Once he’d explained the new plan, the other man had said, “Very good sir” and quickly ended the call. It wasn’t like Cogsworth and that worried him.

What was happening that could overwhelm his steadfast butler?

Was his grandson alright? His wife? The town?

Clenching his jaw, Rumpelstiltskin felt his frustration grow. He hated having to rely on other people. Despite trusting Cogsworth, he still preferred to rely on his own observations. Much was going on in Storybrooke that Cogsworth would dismiss or ignore. He didn't have Rumpelstiltskin’s connections and foresight.

Suddenly feeling dizzy, he swayed and leaned heavily on his cane. Ever since he’d arrived at the town line, he’d been exhausted, and he wasn’t sure why. It didn’t feel like the weakness he’d only just recovered from. This was different.

It was almost as if he’d overtaxed his magic.

Which made no sense. He was the Dark One, his magic had never been overtaxed before. Yet, as he kept reminding himself, magic was much harder to use here. He would have to be careful. Rubbing his eyes, he focused on all the old spells and wand movements he’d forgotten. He’d have to play by this world’s rules; at least until he returned to Storybrooke.

Shaking his head one final time, the dizziness passed, and Rumple began pacing again: fighting intrusive thoughts.

Was the exhaustion a sign of his mortality?

Or was it because he was dying?

Could it be Harriet? Was their connection growing?

Did she care for him as he cared for her?

WHAT WAS HAPPENING IN STORYBROOKE?

Shaking the thoughts away, he looked at the moon as a heaviness settled in his heart. While taking Belle to Grimmauld Place was a complication, he couldn’t ignore the danger she was in. He knew Belle would hate him for his interference, but until they were divorced, she was still his responsibility. He refused to let her become Regina’s puppet.

Belle deserved better than that.

Panic was just starting to settle in, when a roar resounded through the trees, jerking Rumpelstiltskin from his torturous thoughts. A fireball formed in his hands as he instinctively ducked into the forest. Spinning around, his eyes widened as a dragon appeared in the sky, roaring as it entered the Land of Hidden Magic. It twirled, almost like it was celebrating, then sped off into the distance.

“Who was that?” Rumple muttered as he hobbled back onto the road, watching the dragon as it flew out of sight.

“Who indeed,” The Darkness muttered, “It couldn’t be Maleficent. She’s dead.”

His phone suddenly rang, and Rumple closed his eyes. He didn’t need foresight to know it wasn’t good news. Still staring in the direction the dragon had flown, he answered it.

“We couldn’t get the scroll,” Micheal said without preamble.

Rumple tightened his hold on the phone, “Let me guess, a dragon took it?”

“How did you….?” Micheal began, but then trailed off in a sigh, “Never mind, it’s you.”

After a brief pause, he continued, “It attacked Sheriff Swan and destroyed the police station.”

“Is she alright?”

“Archie arrived just in time to rush the Sheriff to safety,” Micheal paused, then asked, “What are you going to do?”

Rumple closed his eyes, “Plan B.”

“You will have to enlighten me later,” Micheal said hurriedly, “The fire is getting out of hand.”

Then the line then went dead and Rumple closed his eyes against his own emotions. He shoved his panic behind his mental barriers and forced himself to focus on the task at hand. There wasn’t time to fall apart, and Harriet wasn’t there to help him pick up the pieces.

He needed to be strong.

Suddenly, Rumple heard a startled gasp behind him. Turning, he saw Belle on her hands and knees, shaking and sniffing. She looked up and froze when she noticed him. He watched impassively as she stared at him, tears making her frightened eyes glisten.

“Ah,” Rumple said mockingly, “If it isn’t my wayward wife.”

“Don’t,” Belle commanded as she scrambled to her feet.

“Don’t what, sweetheart?” Rumple sneered.

Belle whimpered as she backed into the barrier, a small electric jolt pushing her forward and causing her hair to stand on end.

Looking at the ground, Rumple frowned, “Where’s my dagger?”

“This is all about your dagger?” Belle asked in disbelief, “Still?”

“Not all of it.”

“You really will do anything for power!”

“They were supposed to throw it over.”

Rumple tried to ignore Belle’s suspicious gaze as he phoned Cogsworth, but there was no answer. Frightened, he shoved his phone back into his pocket and glared at the empty road before him; frustrated that the curse kept him from seeing what was happening right in front of them.

“What happened when they pushed you over?” Rumple asked, fear making his voice tremble slightly, “Was Henry alright?”

Confused, Belle replied, “Nothing happened. Henry didn’t look well, but he was still able to help Cogsworth wrestle me from the car and push me over the town line.”

Rumple nodded as he began pacing again. His leg began to throb, but he pushed the pain behind his mental barriers with the rest of his emotions.

Why didn’t Henry look well?

What was happening?

“You don’t think…,” Belle began but then gasped as Henry suddenly appeared between them.

“Henry!” Rumple yelled as he lunged forward, catching his grandson before he fell. The boy’s school bag dropped to the ground and Rumple kicked it out of the way.

“Take it grandpapa. Please…. I can’t let it go!” Henry sobbed, cradling the dagger to his chest.

Rumple wrestled with Henry; his grandson crying even as he fought to keep the dagger. Gritting his teeth, he wrapped his hand around the blade and tore it from Henry. He felt it slice through his palm, severing tendons before glancing off bone. Blood drenched his hand and traveled down his arm, into the crook of his elbow before soaking into his clothes. His wound throbbed as he held the dagger away from his grandson. Sobbing, Henry wrapped his arms around his grandfather, who used his free hand to clutch him to his chest.

They both sank to the ground, Rumple’s mind woozy from sudden blood loss.

Reaching around Henry’s back, he pulled the blade from his hand, wincing at the squelching noise it made and carefully discarded the dagger by his knee. Immediately, his hand began to heal, and the dizziness subsided. Wrapping his arms properly around his grandson, Rumple whispered soothing words to Henry as he sobbed.

Belle watched as her husband comforted Henry, touched by their love, but fearful for herself. She knew that her husband could love deeply, but he did not suffer disloyalty.

And oh, how she’d been disloyal.

Killian’s words replayed in her mind, reminding her of what Rumple had done to Milah. Now that he knew about Will, would she be next? Another dead disloyal wife for Rumple to mourn? Or would he spare her? Would Henry’s presence be enough to keep him calm?

When they were alone? What then?

Unwillingly, her eyes were drawn to the dagger and her fear was instantly amplified. Her palms began to itch, and her head began to pound. Licking her lips nervously, she quietly stepped toward the dagger.

“Rumpelstiltskin can do anything he wants,” She thought, the voice in her head ugly and dark.

“Magic doesn’t work in this world.” She thought, fighting against her fear.

She inched forward, looking between the dagger and Rumple, and her blood ran cold. His injured hand had already healed. He could do magic!

“Protect yourself! He’ll kill you!”

Snatching the dagger from the ground, Belle was both shocked and proud that she dared touch it again. She was finally protecting herself and if that meant taking Rumple’s autonomy, she’d do it. It was about time she took control of her life.

Startled, Rumple gaped at Belle as she glared at him triumphantly, holding the dagger between them. He could almost feel the invisible leash that tied his will to hers.

“Belle…” Rumple said beseechingly as he reached out toward her.

Suddenly, Henry pitched forward, his hand outstretched in an attempt to grab the dagger when Belle jerked back and shouted, “Stop him!”

Without a thought, Rumple grabbed his grandson and held him tightly against his chest. He tried to let him go, but he could do nothing against Belle’s command. Glaring at his wife; anger burned his heart as he struggled with Henry.

Belle swallowed, “You ... you will take me back to Storybrooke.”

“Not something I can do, sweetheart,” Rumple sneered, his voice sounding more snakelike than human. His anger burned darker as he stood, dragging Henry with him. His grandson had stopped fighting, but he still couldn’t let him go.

Not without Belle’s permission.

His breathing became labored, and his mind wandered back to the farmhouse; back to the cellar and the cage that had been his prison for over a year. His mouth ran dry as his mind conjured terrifying images of what Belle could make him do; of the things Zelena had done disguised as Belle. Panic threatened to choke him as fear overwhelmed him.

Then suddenly, he felt like his whole body was being stabbed with a thousand needles. He gritted his teeth, fighting against the change despite knowing it would only delay the inevitable.

“What do you want?” Rumple croaked, sweat beading his brow.

“I….” Belle began, licking her lips. Rumple was obviously struggling, and she was becoming more terrified by the minute. What was happening to him? To her? To them?

“Grandpapa,” Henry said quietly, “I think you’re scaring her.”

Rumple said nothing as he narrowed his eyes. His fear, his ugly fear, ignited the anger that was always burning inside him, and he felt his mental barriers fall. The stabbing feeling intensified and Rumple finally gave in to the change.

Belle gasped, backing away slowly, as Rumple reverted into the Dark One. She watched in horrified fascination as each human feature twisted into the Dark One’s cursed image. His hair lengthened and lightened, turning wild and unkempt. His skin took on a sickly green color as golden scales erupted along his flesh, his eyes became snakelike with an amber tint, his suit and shoes shifted into snakeskin, and his fingernails erupted into claws; almost slicing Henry.

Rumple made a distressed noise in his throat as Henry screamed, startled by the sudden appearance of claws. His grandson's fear was palpable, and it was enough to push Rumple over the edge.

“You better hold tight to that dagger sweetheart,” Rumple hissed, his eyes flashing red in the moonlight. Never before had he wanted to hurt Belle, not even when she was annoying him to distraction in the Dark Castle. He could almost feel her neck in his hands and the satisfaction it would bring to wring it.

On some level he knew it was Zelena he really wanted to hurt. She had instilled inside him an almost primal fear of anyone who commanded his dagger. It didn’t help that she’d taken Belle’s form and tortured him in ways he refused to think about. He’d only survived his ordeal with his sanity intact by reminding himself that his sweet Belle wouldn’t hurt him. That she would never enslave him.

Then Belle made him promise not to kill Zelena and his world stopped making sense.

“Promise me you won’t go after Zelena, I know you’re better than that.”

Except he wasn’t, and he’d had no choice but to promise; she’d held the dagger after all.

Underneath all of his rage, he yearned for Harriet. He needed her. She brought calm to his world, order to his chaos, and sensibility to his nonsensical anger.

“What…. what has happened to you?” Belle gasped, horrified by Rumple’s rage.

“I’m just becoming the Beast I’ve always been,” Rumple tittered, “Isn’t that what you called me? A Beast?”

“I’d hoped…” Belle began but was startled by a sudden noise. Turning slightly, she was almost knocked off her feet by a sudden impact. Stumbling, she tried to steady herself as someone grabbed her hair. She reached behind her, trying to fight her attacker off, when her head jerked to the side and her nose made a sickening crunch. Her face throbbed in pain and she dropped the dagger to clutch at her bloodied nose.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Harriet demanded, letting Belle go as she shook the pain from her hand. She winced when she noticed Belle's broken nose.

Maybe she shouldn’t have hit her so hard.

Feeling the dagger’s power shift, Rumple relaxed his hold on Henry and gently pushed him out of the way.

Glaring at his wife, he hissed in parseltongue, “She stole the dagger when I was distracted.”

“Bloody hell Rumple,” Harriet replied, parseltongue slipping off her tongue with ease, “What went wrong?’

Rumple stalked past her, stooping to snatch the dagger from the ground before replying, “Everything.”

Belle’s eyes widened as she began to stumble backward, blood pouring down her face as she held her hand out in protest, “Rumple…please….”

“Harriet,” Henry said, his voice shaking in fright.

“For fucks sake Rumpelstiltskin calm the hell down!” Harriet thundered and Rumple stopped advancing on Belle. He glared at his wife one final time before he turned to Harriet.

“She controlled me,” Rumple bit out as Belle whimpered.

“I understand that” Harriet said tenderly, “But Rum .... she’s not Zelena. You’re scaring her.”

Rumple looked away, his hand clutching the pommel of his dagger hard enough to bruise, while Belle cowed on the ground, trying to stop her nose from bleeding.

“Let me talk to Belle.” Harriet said.

Rumple jerkily nodded before abruptly stalking toward the opposite side of the road. He refused to even glance at his grandson, not wanting to see the fear in Henry’s eyes. The Darkness was too close to the surface, and it didn’t care who it hurt.

“That’s not true,” It hissed, “I would never hurt those we love.”

“You don’t love,” Rumple snarled, as he kicked a rock in frustration.

“Oh, but I do,” The Darkness replied, “We are one, Rumpelstiltskin. I love what you love.”

“I care for Belle,” Rumple thought desperately, “Yet I would have gladly snapped her neck because of you!”

The Darkness refused to reply, leaving Rumple alone with his thoughts.

Harriet watched Rumple mutter to himself as she fought to erect a barrier between their minds. Her head was already pounding from being summoned and she couldn’t afford to be distracted. Not when Rumple was so close to madness. Swallowing her worry, she walked towards Belle, schooling her features into something that resembled kindness.

“So….” Harriet said as she assessed the woman in front of her, “You must be Belle.”

Belle eyed her suspiciously and refused to reply. Sighing, Harriet twisted her wrist and her wand slid into her hand. Belle tried to scramble away but stopped when she saw Harriet had transfigured a stick into a handkerchief and held it out to her.

“For the nose,” Harriet said, somewhat stiffly.

Cautiously, Belle took it and watched as Harriet sat next to her on the uncomfortable asphalt.

“Look, I know getting kidnapped by a child can’t be fun….”

“Cogsworth helped!” Henry protested.

“Hush!” Harriet snapped; her voice harsher than she’d intended.

Henry began to argue when Rumple yelled across the road, “ Do as she says, Henry!”

Glancing at his grandpapa, Henry ducked his head, wisely keeping his mouth shut.

Clearing her throat, Harriet turned her attention back to Belle, “Look, nobody is trying to hurt you. Quite the opposite actually.”

“How can that be true?” Belle asked, wincing as she wiped her nose, “Rumple looked…...”

“Apparently Regina wants the dagger,” Harriet interrupted, trying to ignore Belle’s turmoil,” and Henry wanted to protect Rumple.”

Belle said nothing, her eyes large and wet from fear. She sat there, shivering in the cold night air, and Harriet felt her heart go out to her. There was something about Belle that begged to be saved and Harriet had a “saving people thing” as Hermione liked to remind her. She felt protective of the other woman, and she wondered if this was why Rumple had fallen in love with her.

Ignoring the urge to comfort her, Harriet continued, “Henry didn’t want to leave you at Regina’s mercy so he .... took you.”

Belle snorted but then whimpered in pain.

“I’m not sure why he didn’t just ask….” Harriet said, wincing as pain spiked behind her eye causing it to twitch.

“She was drunk,” Henry said dully.

Harriet sighed, unwilling to be a hypocrite and condemn Belle for that. Standing, she wiped the dirt from her pants and held her hand out, “The only safe place is away from Regina.”

“I……” Belle’s shoulders slumped, “This is all so overwhelming.”

But she took Harriet’s hand as she stood up.

Belle glanced in her husband's direction, but Rumple refused to look at her. She knew they would have to talk about what happened, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to be alone with him when it occurred. He had been so frightening. She had never seen him like that before.

“I understand,” Harriet said, “but you really do need to come with us. For your own safety.”

“And you will be there?”

“Of course,” Harriet replied, smiling softly.

“Alright.” Belle said, smiling tentatively back.

“Wonderful,” Harriet said, relieved she didn’t have to commit kidnapping along with adding and abetting a fugitive.

Turning to Henry, her voice hardened, "What in the world were you thinking?”

Henry looked unsure as he mumbled, “I don’t know you.”

Harriet glared at him as she yelled, “Rum! Come yell at your grandson! Apparently, he’s too good to be scolded by the likes of me!”

“I didn’t say that,” Henry said, frowning, “I….just don’t know you.”

“And I don’t know you,” Harriet replied, crossing her arms, “But I was just like you at your age; impulsive, hard headed, and unthinking. It didn’t go well for me.”

“But you’re a hero! A savior!”

“Then why don’t you listen to me?”

Henry bit his lip, “I….I didn’t….” He sighed, “I see what you're saying.”

“Do you?” Harriet demanded

“Yes,” Henry said quietly, “I…..I just wanted to keep grandpapa safe and Belle was drunk….Cogsworth thought it was a good idea.”

“Cogsworth will be spoken to,” Rumple said as he hobbled toward Henry, “Kidnapping Belle the way you did was inappropriate.”

“Wait….” Belle said quietly, tentatively taking a step toward her husband, “You didn't ... .know?”

“Only afterward,” Rumple replied, not trusting himself to look at her.

But…why did you have them bring me here?”

“If I thought you could deal with Regina, I would have left you in Storybrooke.

“I’m not weak!”

“No you're not,” Rumpelstiltskin agreed, finally glaring in her direction, “But you’re determined to make yourself so.”

“Just because I don’t like using magic, doesn’t mean I can’t take care of myself!”

“Actually it does,” Harriet interrupted, “but we don’t have time to get into that.” Turning to Rumple she asked, “Where’s the scroll?”

“Stolen by a dragon,” Rumple replied, his voice dull.

Harriet hung her head and sighed, “Of course it was.”

“I fear we’re cursed.”

“You’re just figuring that out?” Harriet asked, laughing bitterly.

“I don’t think it’s funny.”

Harriet looked at Rumple, her lips pinched, “No…. I don’t suppose it is.”

Rumple winced as Harriet’s emotions chafed against his. They were becoming just as overwhelming to him, as his own were to her.

Stepping toward her, he placed his hand on her shoulder and muttered, “Beauty?”

“I’m just tired Rum,” Harriet replied, placing her hand on his and squeezing, “I haven’t really slept.”

“I thought you were going to take a nap,” Rumple muttered as he glanced at Belle and Henry.

“Yeah .... didn't help,” Harriet replied, “Your feelings were ... .loud.”

“I’m sorry Beauty,” Rumple said, his head dipping close to her ear, “I didn’t mean for you to come.”

“I know,” Harriet replied, looking up at Rumple. Their lips were mere inches from touching.

It startled Belle, seeing her husband share such intimacy with another woman. The tenderness he showed Harriet was in stark contrast to the anger she’d been inflicted with. She felt like she’d fallen down Will’s rabbit hole and was now stuck in an unfamiliar world.

Speaking of Will….

“I need to call Will!” Belle blurted, wincing when she realized what she was doing. She was intentionally trying to hurt Rumple, even after he had almost attacked her.

What in the world was wrong with her?

Rumple stiffened, turning his head slowly in her direction; his amber eyes glowing in the moonlight.

“Why?” He asked, his voice hard.

“So he won’t look for me,” Belle replied, biting her lip, “So he won't’ be worried.”

“I don’t care,” Rumple replied, his voice acidic, “Let him worry. Maybe he’ll learn not to take up with a married woman.”

Harriet pulled away from him, her face impassive as she said, “We’ll get you a phone, when we get to London.”

“Harriet!” Rumple boomed.

“What?”

“She is my wife…” Rumple began but Harriet cut him off.

“A wife you looked ready to slaughter just a moment ago! Don’t think we won’t be speaking about that later, Lord Voldemort!”

“Don’t call me that!”

“Don’t act like it!” Harriet shouted, taking a step towards Rumple.

Rumple snarled in frustration as Harriet balled her hands into fists. They stood almost toe to toe, anger sizzling between them. Belle watched in horrified fascination as her husband turned a nasty shade of green, something she’d never seen him do in the Enchanted Forest. Harriet’s face went from ghostly pale to beet red and she looked ready to fight him in the middle of the road.

“I’m not HIM anymore!” Rumple yelled, his voice echoing over the forest.

“Then prove it, you jackass!” Harriet bellowed.

Rumple looked like he was about to explode when he reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her into a tight embrace before swooping in to kiss her. Harriet’s stomach somersaulted and she felt her knees almost buckle. Despite his scales, Rumple’s lips were soft and warm, and she felt safe in his arms. Gently cupping her cheek, he teased her lips with his tongue prompting Harriet to groan and deepen their kiss.

Winding his fingers into her hair, Rumple pulled her head back slightly and asked breathlessly, “Does this prove that I’m not him?”

“Oh, shut up and kiss me again,” Harriet murmured as she grabbed the lapels on his suit and closed the small gap between them.

Rumple’s mind went pleasantly numb as he wound his arm around her waist; all he could feel was Harriet, all he could taste were her lips, and all he wanted was her. As their minds melded together, her emotions heightened his own and the ferocity of their kiss prompted him to bend her slightly backward. Both were still aware, despite their fervor, that they had an audience; yet neither wanted to stop.

Heartbroken, Belle looked away and erupted into noisy sobs. She stepped in front of Henry, certain he shouldn’t see his grandfather engaging in this type of nonsense, only for Henry to look around her.

“They’re just kissing!”

Belle cried harder.

Henry looked away but refused to feel bad. She had banished his grandpapa, effectively divorcing him, what had she expected? That he wouldn’t move on? That he couldn’t find happiness without her?

Smiling softly as the kiss began to slow, Henry watched as their foreheads touched. Turning to give them privacy, he grabbed his bag as Belle sobbed into her hands.

“Holy fuck,” Harriet whispered, her whole-body humming with contentment. She could hear nothing but Rumpelstiltskin’s heartbeat, feel nothing but his body against hers.

“Yes,” Rumple whispered, peace spreading through his heart and dowsing his anger. He shifted back into his human form and sighed in relief. He no longer felt like he was burning alive.

Harriet cupped Rumple’s cheek, rubbing her thumb lightly across his lips. Rumple nuzzled her hand and sighed, not wanting this to end. Harriet quietly giggled, feeling light for the first time in ages when she glanced over his shoulder. Her smile faltered as she watched Belle sob. Regretfully, she pulled away and whispered, “We’ll talk about this later.”

Rumple frowned before nodding, confused as to the abrupt change in her mood, when he saw Belle. He winced but refused to allow himself to wallow in guilt. He didn’t do anything wrong. She had already left him; had already moved on.

Walking over to Henry and Belle, Harriet announced, “We’re going to have to use a portkey.”

Henry nodded as Belle wiped her eyes.

Looking around, Harriet found a large stick. Grabbing it, she waved her wand over it and whispered, “Portus.”

The stick glowed blue.

“Hurry up and grab it. It’s only going to last a moment.” Harriet said as she offered the stick to Henry and Belle.

Henry quickly grabbed the stick as Belle tentatively followed suit. As soon as Belle’s grip tightened on the portkey, all three disappeared.

Sighing, Rumple ran his fingers through his shortened hair before he hobbled over to his cane. Picking it up, inspiration struck as he stared at the handle. Pulling out his wand, he focused his magic and widened his cane enough that the dagger’s blade would fit inside it comfortably; effectively hiding it in plain sight.

Looking in the direction of Storybrooke, he contemplated the night's events, before disappearing back to England. Soon they would notice that Henry was missing, and he was sure Storybrooke would become even more chaotic. He could only hope Ruby, Archie, and Micheal had a plan to distract Henry’s mothers.

Chapter Text

“I should have explained how to use a portkey properly, ” Harriet thought as they began to spin faster and faster; blue lighting cracking around them. The longer Belle refused to let go of the portkey, the faster they spun.

Harriet hadn’t even considered Belle would have a problem with the portkey. After all, she was married to a wizard and lived in a magical fairytale world. On the flip side, Henry had found the whole experience exhilarating and had let go exactly when told, laughing the entire time.

At least she didn't have to worry about him.

“It’s alright,” Harriet yelled over the wind, “It won’t hurt! Henry already let go!”

As they started spinning even faster, Belle screamed and squeezed her eyes shut. Fear spiked through Harriet as she adjusted her grip, her arms aching. She had never held on to a portkey this long and had no idea what could happen. Straining her forearms she pulled herself closer to Belle.

“Belle!” Harriet said urgently, “It’s alright to be afraid. Portkeys are terrifying. I should have explained how to use it properly. I’m sorry!”

Her eyes sprang open, and she looked searchingly at Harriet.

Finally she nodded and asked, “On three?”

“One!” Harriet yelled.

“Two!” Belle screamed, her voice shaking.

“Three!” They shouted in unison before letting go at the same time.

Harriet hit the ground hard and rolled, bones protesting. Coming to a full stop, she groaned, before pushing herself into a sitting position to see where they were.

She sighed in relief when she saw her own backyard.

“They’re here!” Henry shouted as he ran toward them. Rumple followed closely behind, glancing worriedly between the two women.

“Do magical people travel like this often?” Belle asked as she shakily stood and wiped dirt off her dress.

Harriet absently glanced at the other woman and barely hid a grimace. Her hair stood on end, her clothing was stained and torn in places, and her face had begun to bruise. Yet, despite her rumpled appearance, Harriet was faced with the sinking realization that Belle was remarkably beautiful. Next to her she looked like an emaciated waif.

Mistress of Death indeed.

“In large groups,” Harriet replied, also standing and wiping herself off, grateful she had changed her clothes before being summoned. She would have looked ridiculous spread across her backyard in the red and gold dress, “Wizard travel is stupid and horrifically dangerous. I prefer muggle transportation whenever possible.”

“Muggle?” Belle asked

“Non magical people.”

“Like me?”

Harriet shook her head, “People from the Enchanted Forest know about magic, even use it to some extent. Here, magic is kept secret and away from muggles.”

“Oh….” Belle winced as pain shot through her nose “That seems complicated.

“It’s the price of magic.” Rumple dryly replied as he began to wipe dirt off Harriet’s back. Leaning in, he whispered, “What happened? We were worried.”

“Belle didn’t take well to the portkey,” Harriet replied, voice low “but I didn’t explain how to use it properly either.”

Rumple sighed and looked at his wife, “Are you alright?”

“Do I look alright?” Belle aggressively bit out, clearly upset by his lack of care.

Rumple glared at her for a moment, before sighing dramatically and taking out his wand. Belle stiffened as he approached.

“I can heal you…” Rumple began but Belle cut him off.

“I want Harriet to do it.” She announced a sour expression on her face.

“I can’t.” Harriet replied, “I’m rubbish at healing spells.”

“It won’t hurt,” Rumple insisted, taking a step toward Belle. He winced when his knee pinched.

“I don’t trust you,” Belle said, her voice breaking. She knew she was being contradictory; wanting him one minute and then leery of him the next, but she couldn’t seem to settle her churning emotions.

Rumple stared at her in frustration. Taking a deep breath, he carefully said, “I’m sorry about what happened before.”

“Are you?” Belle asked, skepticism in her voice.

“While you shouldn’t have taken my dagger,” Rumple replied through clenched teeth, “I shouldn’t have reacted so badly.”

“Why did you?” Belle asked in a small voice.

Rumple swallowed as he looked away. Gruffly he said, “Zelena was…. less than kind and that’s all I’m going to say on the matter.”

“Oh Rumple,” Belle whispered. She knew Zelena’s control of the dagger had affected him, but she’d never realized to what extent. She had never asked, frightened that Rumple wouldn’t tell her; afraid that it was something she couldn’t fix.

She itched to reach out to him, and might have, had Harriet not slipped her hand into his. Belle watched as the other woman gently squeezed his hand and Rumple's face softened into a gentle smile, one that Belle had never seen before. She gripped her stomach, suddenly feeling nauseous at the state of their marriage.

How had they come to this?

Suddenly, the back door slammed open, startling the whole group. Turning, Belle watched warily as a man stalked toward them, his robes billowing behind him. He came up short however, when he noticed Belle and Henry.

His dark eyes flashed as he sneered, “How many more damn people are you going to shove into this house Potter?

Harriet sighed in exhaustion, “Good Morning Severus. What brings you here so EARLY in the morning?”

“It’s nine, Potter,” Severus snapped, his attention on Belle and Henry.

“As I said,” Harriet bit out, “Early. Especially as I’ve not slept in over 24 hours.”

Dragging his eyes away from the newcomers, Severus glared, “Albus has informed me of your little misadventure. You’ve been busy.”

“Unfortunately,” Rumple muttered; his bad leg shaking slightly.

“Why are you here, Severus?” Harriet asked, feeling Rumple’s wave of exhaustion. Their mental walls were bleeding together, both too tired to keep the other out. If they didn’t rest soon, both would be passed out on the ground.

“I wanted to check on you.”

“We’re fine,” Harriet replied, shaking off the Potion Master's concern.

“I don’t care about HIM,” Severus harshly replied, motioning in Rumpelstiltskin’s direction as he took a step closer to Harriet, "It's YOU I’m worried about.”

“I appreciate that Severus,” Harriet said quietly, surprised at the concern she could see in the Potion Master’s dark eyes, “I just need to sleep.”

“It would help move things along if you had a healing potion.” Rumple interrupted gruffly.

Severus’ eyes landed on Belle, taking in her injuries. Turning to Rumpelstiltskin he asked, “And who is she?”

“My wife.”

“Excuse me?” Severus sneered, his voice filled with mocking laughter, “Someone married you?”

Belle gaped at Severus, his utter rudeness leaving her speechless.

“Severus.” Harriet warned, feeling Rumple’s anger spike.

Severus ignored her, “What happened to her face, Dark Lord? She said something you didn’t like?

“Excuse me?” Rumple bit out, enraged at the accusation.

“Then why is her face….?.”

“I hit her!” Harriet shouted, causing Severus to glance at her in surprise, “Can you help her, or not?”

Severus grumbled before turning back to Belle, “Your full name?”

Belle scowled at the rude man in front of her, “Belle French.”

“Not Gold?” Severus mocked, as he took out a small notebook and hastily wrote her name down.

Belle’s scowl deepened, and her patience snapped. Pointing at Harriet, she angrily yelled, “Considering my husband just shoved his tongue down her throat! I would say not!”

Severus stiffened, then slowly turned his head to stare at Harriet in disbelief.

“My god Potter,” Severus said faintly, “If I had known you were that desperate, I would have offered you my services.”

“Severus!” Rumple thundered, “You’ve gone too far!”

Severus eyed Rumpelstiltskin impassively before coldly replying “What other reason could Potter possibly have for engaging in a dalliance with the man that killed her parents?”

Rumple’s face paled but he refused to respond to Severus’ question with anything other than defiance. He wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction of seeing him upset.

Harriet sighed and rubbed her eyes, “Could we not Severus? I’m tired.”

Severus sighed in annoyance and pulled a vial from his robes. Brandishing it at Belle he barked, “Drink this. It will help with the pain and speed the healing process.”

Belle eyed the potion suspiciously before snatching it, pulling out the stopper, and drinking it in one gulp.”

“Yuck,” Belle said as she shook in disgust. Severus only sneered as he snatched the vial from her hands. She glared at him in disbelief, shocked once again, by his audacity.

Glaring at the group, his eyes landed on Henry, who quickly stepped next to his grandfather for protection. Rumple placed his hand protectively on Henry’s shoulder, “Severus, this is my grandson, Henry Mills.”

Severus sneered at the boy before he turned his back on the group and barked, “Potter, we have much to discuss.”

Harriet hung her head, “Fine.”

Taking a deep breath, she hollered for Kreacher who instantaneously appeared right next to her. “Yes mistress?”

“Could you please show them to their rooms?” Harriet asked, pointing in the general direction of Rumple and his family as she followed Severus into the house, “Henry will be rooming with Rumple for the foreseeable future. Make sure he has a bed.”

“Of course Mistress,” Kreacher bowed. Turning to Rumpelstiltskin he said, “Your room is the same Dark One. Kreacher and Winky only moved it.”

“Thank you.”

Kreacher bowed and then beckoned them forward.

As they followed the house elf inside, another wave of exhaustion made Rumple wobble on his feet. He nodded in Hermione’s direction as they passed through the kitchen, her brown eyes worriedly following him. He grimaced in distaste as they ascended the stairs, his knee pinching with each step they took. By the time they reached the second landing, his entire leg was throbbing in pain.

The second floor was dark and grim, with only four doors dotting the hallway. Recognizing his door from the apartment, Rumple was thankful it was the nearest to the stairs. Directly across from his room was what he hoped was a bathroom. A third door was adjacent to his own, while a fourth was tucked farther down the hallway. He knew one of them must be Belle’s room, but what the other could be, he didn’t know. He was positive Harriet’s door wasn’t among the four that dotted the hallway.

Disappointment blossomed in his chest at the realization.

“Please rest,” Kreacher said as he ushered them into the hallway, “Lunch will be served all day in the kitchen. ”

Then he disappeared.

“What in the world was that?” Belle asked, looking to see where Kreacher had gone.

“A house elf,” Rumple dryly replied.

Belle wanted to ask a million questions, but when she glanced at her husband, she stopped herself. His shoulders were dropped, his face was pale, and he was shuffling his feet. It surprised Belle to see that he was utterly exhausted. Rumple had once told her that ever since he'd become the Dark One, he never felt tired. He didn’t even sleep.

Now, he was clearly two seconds away from passing out.

“Come,” Rumple said as he opened his door, “We have much to discuss.”

“Rumple…,” Belle began but he cut her off.

“I’m tired, Belle. Please, just come in.”

She swallowed and nodded as she followed Henry into the bedroom, certain she wouldn’t like what she was about to hear.

“You kissed the Dark Lord!” Severus shouted as he slammed the library door behind them. Harriet rubbed at her eyes as she swayed on her feet, exhaustion slamming into her as she tried to remind herself that the unnerving transformation of her house was a necessity.

When she’d instructed the house elves to change Grimmauld Place back to its original state, she’d forgotten what that would exactly entail. While she didn’t have to deal with the house elf heads (she’d buried them) or Mrs. Black (she’d sent her to live with Narcissa Malfoy) or even the troll leg umbrella stand (that had been transfigured into her couch), she did have to deal with her growing claustrophobia.

She’d forgotten how cramped and out of place she’d felt in this house.

When she first moved into Grimmauld Place with Remus, they’d made many improvements; mostly centered around the kitchen, carpet, and Teddy’s nursery. The narrow and dank hallways, old fashioned gas lamps, snake chandelier, and creepy staircase had unfortunately been kept.

And they were now back, much to Harriet’s chagrin.

“Yes,” She replied, refusing to flinch as Severus glared at her. She would not be cowed by the likes of Severus Snape, exhausted or not.

“What in the world were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t, but I don’t regret it!”

“You should!” Severus yelled, “It is a direct betrayal of your family! Of everyone that fought alongside you!”

“And where were they when I needed them?” Harriet sneered, her mounting anger pushing her exhaustion to the back of her mind.

“I was there, Potter,” Severus bit out, pointing at her aggressively as he took a step forward, “Every step of the way! I was there!”

Harriet crossed her arms as she glared at Severus, unable to dispute his claim. He had been there for her over the years, even when she was at her worst.

They glared at each other for a moment before Severus pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Potter…Harriet…please listen to me.”

Harriet looked away, refusing to meet his eyes. Pressing forward Severus said, “I know what it is, to be seduced by darkness.”

“That is not what this is.”

“No?” Severus asked, throwing his hands in the air, “Then what is it? Because right now I have no idea what you’re thinking!”

“It’s….” Harriet floundered for a moment, before her face softened, “It’s coffee and blueberry muffins.”

“Excuse me?”

Harriet bit her lip. How could she get him to understand?

“Severus…Rumple’s attentive, kind, and patient. He’s taken the time to understand me in a way nobody else has.” Blushing she continued, “He’s pain and rage and fire and desire and….”

She stopped herself before she could share too much of her feelings.

“I don’t follow,” Severus dryly replied.

“I know he’s older,” Harriet continued, trying to explain herself, but not knowing how, “I know he was evil. He’s killed me and I’ve killed him; even reincarnated he found his way to darkness, but there is something in him. A strength….a willpower that I….that I really need right now.”

“And when you no longer need it?”

Harriet said nothing. She wasn’t sure that would ever happen, but she knew better than to tell Severus that.

When it was clear she wouldn't speak, Severus said dismissively, “It's only been a week, Potter. There is plenty of time for you to see him for the monster he is”

“Do you think I’m blind Severus?” Harriet asked, frustrated, “That I only see what I want to see?”

“You see the monster?” Severus asked, shocked, “And still…?”

“He’s a Beast,” Harriet replied with a fond smile, “I understand that about him.”

Severus turned his back to her as he faintly replied, “Then I suppose there is nothing more to say.”

“Severus….” Harriet whispered, reaching out to him, “Please don’t… I value your friendship…”

“As I value yours,” Severus replied, cutting her off, shocked to realize it was true. So much had changed between them, that only now did he realize just how dear to him she was.

Turning back toward her, with shaking hands he cupped her cheek and whispered, “I’m frightened for you.”

Harriet swallowed back her tears, touched by the depth of Severus’ friendship.

“I know you're lonely,” Severus continued, his silky voice becoming stronger, “While the wolf is an utter fool, I would be a liar if I said I didn’t understand his trepidation. He watched you grow up, the same as I. It would be difficult to see you in a romantic light.”

He swallowed but pressed on, “I know that has hurt you. The wolf never should have allowed the two of you to become so enmeshed. I can understand why Rumpelstiltskin's…. attentions.... attractive to you now.” Begrudgingly he said, “He is a charming man.”

Harriet tried to pull away, but Severus refused to let her. Taking her hand, he squeezed it, and continued, “But Rumpelstiltskin is married, and his wife now resides in your home. Are you sure he is done with her? That he’s not trying to…manipulate you?”

“I….” Harriet bit her lip, “It’s complicated.”

“An excuse,” Severus replied dismissively, “The Dark Lord has never been shy about what he wants. Why would he now?”

“He’s a very different person now,” Harriet replied, “Voldemort would never have married a non-magical woman, but Rumple has twice. His son was a squib, and his grandson’s powers are mostly unexplored.”

Severus said nothing as Harriet pressed on, “He has feelings now, Severus. Real and true feelings. I can FEEL them. ”

Severus let go and stepped away from her, disappointed by Harriet’s single mindedness. It was clear she would not be swayed.

“I see I cannot convince you of his distrustful nature.”

“No.”

“Then I will see myself out.” Severus replied, with a nod in her direction.

“Severus,” Harriet said as she followed him out of the library and down the dark hallway, the gas lamps casting long shadows across the hall, "Please don’t go!”

“I’ll be back to check on you, Potter,” Severus replied dismissively.

“But…,” Harriet trailed off, disappointed at the use of her surname. It was clear Severus meant to place distance between them.

The front door suddenly opened, and Remus walked through, quickly stepping out of the way as the Potion Master charged toward the door.

“Wolf,” Severus sneered as he stalked out the door, “This is all your fault.”

Then the door slammed shut, leaving Remus confused.

“What was that all about?” Remus asked, before wincing at his surroundings, “Did we have to go back to this?”

“Talk to Kreacher about it,” Harriet replied, her shoulder’s slumping, “I’m tired”

Remus tried to follow her, but she waved him off and trudged up the stairs before he could say anything more. As she approached the first landing, she could hear Ron and Hermione’s voices coming from further down the hall. She smiled fondly as she listened to them, their voices washing away some of her anxiety, before climbing the rest of the stairs. The second landing was dark, and the hallway was gloomy. She could hear Rumpelstiltskin’s Scottish lit followed closely by Henry’s childish voice and Belle’s worried one coming from the first door off the landing.

Knowing that her room had to be on the second floor, she quietly walked down the hall and began opening doors. She found a bathroom directly across from Rumple’s room and a sitting room beside the bathroom. Opening the last door, she was disappointed to see that Belle’s room was right next to Rumple’s. She knew it was irrational, but she wanted to keep them as far apart as possible. Even having them on the same floor was too close.

She bit her lip and quietly shut the door, confused as to where Kreacher and Winky had placed her room, when she noticed an alcove at the far end of the hall. Curious, Harriet went to investigate and found a small staircase that led to her bedroom door. Sighing in relief, Harriet quickly scaled the stairs, entered her room, and locked the door behind her. Glancing around, she saw everything was exactly as she left it, except for an additional doorway on the right wall. Poking her head in, she found her old apartment’s bathroom.

Chuckling at Kreacher and Winky’s ingenuity, she fell face first onto her bed, her body barely touching the mattress before she fell asleep.

Rumple glanced around his room, gratified to see that Kreacher had been true to his word. It was exactly the same except for the two beds that lined the walls and an additional wardrobe. Immediately, Henry had chosen the bed closest to the window and was happily kicking his feet back and forth, the bed too high for his feet to rest properly. His book bag was sitting beside him, and he was grinning at Rumple, who found himself grinning back.

Despite their current situation, it was going to be nice to spend time with Henry. They had been allowed so little time before.

Belle stood nervously by the door, looking at everything in the room except for her husband before she quietly asked, “Rumple, where are we?”

“London, England.”

“That’s so far from Storybrooke,” Belle said as she sunk onto the seat of Rumple’s spinning wheel.

“You wanted adventure,” Rumple reminded her.

“What are we going to tell my moms?” Henry quietly asked, his excitement doused by how far he was from home.

“I don’t know,” Rumple replied, running his hands through his hair, “I didn’t expect you to come along.”

Henry hung his head, “I’m sorry grandpapa.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” Rumple said as he sat next to his grandson. His heart swelled at the very sight of the contrite boy, proud of how caring he was.

“I wasn’t strong enough,” Henry replied, sniffing, “The voices were so loud.”

“Voices?” Belle asked, furrowing her brow. She hadn’t heard any voices, except her own ugly thoughts.

“As soon as I touched the dagger, I heard them.” Henry insisted.

“I didn’t.” Belle replied in confusion.

Rumple glanced between the two and asked, “Both of you had different experiences with the dagger?”

“Yes,” Henry and Belle replied in unison.

Rumple frowned as he stared at his cane. Twisting the handle, he pulled the dagger out and watched it twinkle in the lamplight. Henry and Belle both stiffened as they stared at it.

“Do you hear anything now?” Rumple asked, blinking against the dark spots that were threatening his vision. His exhaustion was becoming alarming, but he refused to focus on it.

“No,” Belle replied, feeling itchy and jumpy.

“Are you sure?” Rumple asked as he stared hard at Belle, “You don’t seem comfortable.”

“I…no…I don’t hear anything.” Belle replied, surprised by how obvious her own emotions were.

“I hear….” Henry finally said, “Something.”

“Whispering?”

“Yes…but” Henry shook his head, “I don’t know….it feels different.”

“How so?” Rumple asked, fascinated by how different their experiences were.

“I don’t know,” Henry replied, frustrated, “It just doesn’t feel like English, but it clearly is.”

An idea struck Rumple as he shoved the dagger back into the cane. Looking at his grandson he asked in parseltongue, “Henry, do you understand me?”

Belle looked between Henry and Rumple, frowning as her husband made sinister hissing noises.

Henry just looked confused as he replied, “Well….yeah….why wouldn’t I?”

“Henry, he was hissing,” Belle replied, frowning at Rumple, “Like a snake. How can you understand that?”

“Because he can speak Parseltongue,” Rumple replied proudly, “It’s a power that runs in my bloodline.”

“Your bloodline?” Belle asked.

“I can speak to snakes?” Henry exclaimed excitedly; his eyes sparkling.

“Yes.” Rumple said as he ignored Belle’s question, “It’s a power we share.”

Henry beamed at Rumple, who patted his grandson’s leg and said, “Now, why don’t you try and sleep. Belle and I need to speak privately.”

He nodded and watched the adults begin to leave, Belle shuffling nervously behind Rumple, when he remembered the Once Upon a Time book, “Wait!”

They paused at the door while Henry grabbed his bag and pulled out the book. He then shoved it enthusiastically at Belle.

“Make sure you read the last seven stories, it will explain everything!” Henry exclaimed.

“Everything?” Belle echoed as she took the book and opened it to the table of contents. She gasped when she saw Harriet’s name on the last seven stories.

“Yeah!” Henry chirped. He wanted to say more, but one glance at his exhausted grandfather quieted him. Rumpelstiltskin needed to rest, but he couldn’t do that until after he spoke to Belle. .

Smiling fondly at his grandson, Rumple bent forward and kissed his forehead, surprising Henry, before leaving. Belle bid Henry a “good nap” before following Rumple out of the room and closing the door.

He bit his lip, while he desperately wanted to eavesdrop on their conversation, he knew better than to test his grandpapa. Tiredly, Henry took off his coat, shoes and socks, pulled down the covers and slipped between the sheets. They were just the right kind of soft and it helped Henry quickly fall into a deep sleep.

Rumple chuckled as he pressed his ear to the door, “That didn’t take long.”

“Poor thing,” Belle replied, “He was exhausted.”

“No thanks to you and Cogsworth,” Rumple muttered as he led Belle the short distance to the adjacent door. Opening it, they found a tastefully decorated sitting room, but no additional doors. Irritated by the useless room, he shut the door with a bit too much force, and hobbled to the last door.

The bedroom was a pleasing shade of white, with delicate lace curtains and a comfortable looking bed with a pale blue bedspread. A wardrobe stood against the far wall while a light blue rug decorated the middle of the room. It was sparse, but comfortable.

“This room is yours,” Rumple said as he stepped aside for Belle to enter, “You should get some rest. The other people living here can be lively.”

“Lively?” Belle asked, already feeling exhausted by the thought.

“The Granger-Weasley household are a particularly loud and boisterous bunch.” Rumple replied, “Remus and Teddy Lupin are far quieter, but there is animosity between us.”

“Why?” Belle began but Rumple held up his hand, “Rest, Belle. Then I will answer whatever questions you have.”

She nodded, before hesitating at the door. Taking a deep breath, she said, “I love you.”

Rumple stiffened, “Do you really?”

“I…” Belle began but Rumple turned on his heel and hobbled away. Shutting the door to his room with more force then was strictly necessary.

Belle hung her head as she stared at the book in her arms, before glancing at her borrowed bed. She knew she should rest, but her racing thoughts refused to slow. Needing relief, and some answers, she decided to read in the sitting room.

It was a perfect copy of her room, white walls, delicate lace curtains, and a pale blue rug that matched the pale blue furniture. Pulling a chair toward the window, she opened the blinds and began reading in the morning light. Hoping to discover just what her husband was reluctant to talk about.

Storybrooke

Archie paced Micheal’s living room, too upset to sit. By the time he’d made it back to his apartment and rescheduled his patients, there had been just enough time to take a shower and drive to the meeting.

“Do we know why the dragon attacked Sheriff Swan?” Cogsworth asked, taking a sandwich from the pile Micheal had left for them. Politely, he took off his hat, ran his fingers through his hair, and began to eat.

Ruby watched him in disgust.

“What?” Cogsworth asked.

She just sniffed as she grabbed another sandwich, reluctantly sitting across from him.

“We do not,” Michael said as he glanced between the werewolf and the former monster hunter.

Clearing his throat he asked, “Are you two going to be a problem?”

“I’m fine.” Ruby replied, her voice a tad too harsh.

Cogsworth rolled his eyes.

“As soon as we discover who the dragon is,” Cogsworth said, “The quicker Ms. Lucas and I can part ways.”

“Please don’t forget we are on the same side.

“Emma could have died!” Archie burst out before he rubbed at his face. The more his thoughts lingered on how small she’d looked in the hospital bed, the more upset he became. Tears pricked the back of his eyes but he refused to cry.

Cogsworth rolled his eyes again, “Get a grip man!”

“Leave him alone,” Ruby bit out, “He’s upset.”

“It does no good having emotional outbursts over things we can’t change.” Cogsworth lectured.

“Maybe it does his heart good,” Ruby snapped, “Have you thought about that? Or are you really as heartless as you appear?”

“Enough!” Micheal shouted. Archie paused in his pacing and Cogsworth took an aggressive bite from his sandwich while Ruby bared her teeth at him.

“We have enough to do without you three falling to pieces!” Micheal lectured.

“At least we don’t have to worry about the dagger,” Archie muttered as he sat next to Ruby and half heartedly ate a sandwich.

“Why do you say that?” Micheal groused, “The dagger is now in the Dark One’s possession.”

“I don’t understand why that’s a problem.” Cogsworth snipped, swallowing and taking a drink of his water.

“He isn’t…” Archie began but Micheal interrupted, “ Rumplestilskin is a reincarnated evil wizard from the Land of Hidden Magic.”

Cogsworth looked at Michael, Ruby, and Archie. When it became apparent that they were not joking he asked, “Come again?”

“It’s…a lot to take in,” Ruby acknowledged.

“Rumplestilskin is many things,” Cogswroth replied, “But I wouldn’t categorize him as truly evil.”

“Rumplestilskin is not evil,” Micheal acknowledged, “but he used to be the dark wizard, Lord Voldemort. Lord Voldemort was so extremely vile he was able to split his soul into seven pieces in order to become immortal.”

“Those pieces were destroyed by Harriet Potter, the savior of the Land of Hidden Magic,” Archie said, taking up the thread of the conversation, “Ultimately, she killed him.”

“Then how was he able to…. come back?” Cogsworth asked carefully.

“That we don’t know,” Ruby replied, “Gold said he was split down the middle. That part of himself became the Dark One and the other became Rumplestilskin.”

“The rest is a mystery,” Archie said as his phone buzzed. Glancing at it, he sprang to his feet, “Shit!”

“What?” Ruby asked as she slowly stood.

“They discovered Henry’s missing,” Archie replied as he headed toward the door, “Emma needs me.”

“Why does Sheriff Swan need you for that?” Micheal asked.

“He’s Henry’s psychiatrist.” Ruby groaned, realizing they had a new problem.

“Are you going to be able to deal with this?” Cogsworth asked, giving Archie an appraising look, “It’s going to require you to lie Cricket.”

Archie paused at the door, his hand on the knob, “I wasn’t always a conscious Mr. Cogsworth.”

Then he opened the door and left the house before anyone else could say anything else.

“Shit,” Cogsworth said as he stood, “We better figure out who that dragon is Wolf. Or we’re all going to have to deal with the Mayor and Sheriff Swan’s wrath when Dr. Hopper gives us up.”

“Archie would never!” Ruby insisted.

“Have you noticed how he looks at Sheriff Swan lately?” Cogsworth asked as he replaced his hat on his head.

Ruby didn’t say anything for a moment and then, "Well fuck.”

“Precisely.”

“Where do we even start?” Ruby asked as followed Cogsworth toward the door.

“You go to work,” Cogsworth said, “And listen to your patron’s conversations. If you hear someone’s missing, then you call me.”

“And what will you be doing?” Micheal asked.

“I’ll do what I do best,” Cogsworth said with a smirk, “Snoop.”

Micheal watched them leave, once again left alone to his own devices. He didn’t care to be left out of the action, but he wasn’t sure what he could do to aid the search. Glancing at his small library, he grabbed his coat and headed for the door. He had exhausted his own books, it was time to utilize his Masters. There had to be something there to aid them.

As he walked, an idea began to form in his mind; a way to gain more time. It wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had, but it wasn’t his worst. If done correctly nobody would notice the disruption to their lives. Storybrooke was separate from the rest of the world and if he could find a way to keep Ruby, Cogsworth, and Archie from being affected then not even Rumplestilskin would know until he arrived.

Still, it didn’t seem like something a hero would do.

A loud crash resounded from behind him. Micheal spun around, spell on his lips, when he realized it was just a small fender bender. Sighing in relief, he was about to continue his walk when both residents got out of the car and began screaming in each other’s faces. Before Micheal could decide to intervene or not, they began pushing each other.

Micheal’s shoulders slumped forward and he whispered a spell in their direction, one to calm them. The two men shook their heads and confusedly separated, calmly checking their cars before sharing their information and leaving the scene.

He couldn’t keep this up. The calming of angry residents was now an everyday occurrence. The last two days he’d spent time just roaming Storybrooke’s streets muttering calming spells. It was ridiculous that he was the only magic user doing this. The fairies, at the very least, should be out trying to calm the residents, but Blue had her fairies hiding in the damn convent.

Angry, Micheal stomped the rest of the way to his Master’s library, sure that his idea was the only way forward. He just hoped that the others would forgive him.

Chapter Text

London

Harriet felt something tickle the back of her neck, pulling her slowly from sleep. Reaching behind, she tried swatting at whatever was disturbing her, when she felt someone’s hand wrap around hers. A low chuckle reverberated in her ear as her eyes flew open. Squinting against the strange green glow that illuminated her bed, she glanced over her shoulder to find Rumpelstiltskin laying on his side; a devilish grin spreading across his face as he leaned his head against his palm.

Harriet’s eyes raked across his body as she nervously licked her lips. The black vest he wore hugged his chest and stomach, highlighting his lean athletic build while the green dress shirt he wore underneath focused attention to his slim shoulders and arms. He wore no tie, and the collar of his shirt was unbuttoned, showing Harriet a smattering of chest hair. His slightly soft middle urged Harriet to run her fingers across his stomach while his pants hugged his narrow hips and lean legs to perfection. He wore no shoes or socks, instead preferring to rub his bare foot lightly against hers.

He was absolutely delicious in the eerie green glow. Speech became impossible as Harriet’s eyes widened and her mouth dried.

“By Merlin, but you're beautiful,” Rumple muttered as he trailed his fingers down her arm to her elbow before encircling her waist. Harriet placed her hand on top of his and sucked in a breath as Rumple gently began kissing her jaw. Butterflies erupted in her stomach as she leaned into him. Ever so slowly, he trailed kisses to her neck and then nibbled down to her collarbone. Gently, he pulled her oversized sweater out of the way before kissing the exposed skin on her shoulder.

“Oh,” Harriet groaned.

Rumple hummed against her skin as his fingers trailed up her thigh, across her hip and to her stomach. She arched into him, giving him better access to her neck and shoulder while allowing his hands to slip under her sweater and skim across her stomach. Her heart began to beat wildly as her muscles fluttered under his featherlight touch.

“I won’t break, you know,” Harriet teased, breathless.

“Maybe I want to be gentle,” Rumple muttered as he nibbled her ear, drawing out a small moan from her.

“I like gentle,” Harriet muttered as his fingers trailed around her belly button and up to the base of her bralette, “I really, really like gentle.”

“Mmmm,” Rumple hummed as he pulled her closer. Harriet stiffened for a moment, surprised by how hard he already was, before she cautiously rubbed her bottom against his clothed cock. He hissed at the friction.

“Harriet….” Rumple growled, as he rubbed himself against her. Harriet met his thrusts with her own and soon they were creating a delicious friction. She felt her sex tighten with each thrust of his hips against her ass, and it was all she could do not to beg him to touch her throbbing pussy.

“Rumple…” Harriet moaned as he cupped her breast through her bralette, teasing her nipple with his fingertips.

“You are wearing far too many clothes.” Rumple muttered as he abruptly pulled away, eliciting a soft whine of protest from Harriet. Playfully, he tugged at her hips until she laid on her back, giggling with nerves.

Giving her a provocative grin, Rumple gently pushed her sweater up and began to place feather light kisses against her stomach. His tongue dipped into her belly button and Harriet arched into his kiss, feeling herself turn slick with arousal. She desperately wanted to rub herself against something, needing friction against her engorged sex.

“Rum…” Harriet moaned, throwing her head back. She ran her fingers through his hair as he dipped below her belly button and trailed his tongue to the top of her jeans. She ached to touch him, to taste him, to run her fingers over his body. She was about to pull him toward her for a kiss, when he began opening her jeans, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Yes, my love?” Rumple purred as he began kissing the skin he exposed. Harriet’s heart began pounding as she sat up, her eyes glued to Rumple’s head as he slowly descended toward the band of her underwear. Her pussy throbbed at the mere sight.

“I…” Harriet croaked; her mouth incredibly dry.

“Yes?” Rumple asked, pausing to look at her.

“I….” Harriet tried again but something caught her attention. As she glanced over his shoulder, her eyes widened in shock, and she sucked in a startled breath. Ice cold fear creeped up her spine as she looked all around her.

They should have been inside her bedroom. She had fallen asleep in her own bed after all. Yet, somehow, they were surrounded by a complete and utter emptiness; a vast nothingness that seemed to dip and swirl in her vision as her eyes strained to settle. Horrified, she kept frantically searching for some type of anchor, yet nothing but the bed and the glow that illuminated them seemed to exist in this place.

“Where are we?” Harriet whispered, forcing her eyes to focus on Rumple as her scar began to throb with the beginnings of a headache.

He cocked his head, seemingly confused, “What do you mean?”

Suddenly, the light that surrounded them began to glow more brightly and the nothingness that enveloped them lightened in response. A faint outline came into view, reminding Harriet strongly of a developing picture. At first everything was colorless and indistinguishable, just a mess of grey. Then a dense forest sprang around them, swirling like a kaleidoscope before settling into place. The sky darkened and the green glow that surrounded them morphed into sicky moonlight. It seemed to paradoxically brighten nothing and everything. Frantically, Harriet looked in all directions, but found the forest was just as endless as the nothingness had been.

Panic gripped her chest, making breathing difficult. She scooted away from Rumple, hurriedly fastening her pants, while fighting to remain calm. As she fell off the bed, she reached for her wand but couldn’t find it.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“Calm down my love” Rumple cooed as his voice twisted into a dark hiss.

Startled, Harriet spun around and gasped in horror. Her face drained of all color as she watched Rumple gracefully stand, his face bubbling and twisting. His clothes morphed into dark, flowing robes that seemed to billow around him as his features changed.

His nose flattened and turned snake-like, his brown eyes shifted to a crimson red, and his skin drained of all color. The roundness in his face melted away, leaving his skin looking as if it were stretched across bone, resulting in his cheekbones appearing more prominent than before.

Horrified, Harriet tried to step back, but he grabbed her arm, his colorless complexion glowing in the moonlight while his crimson eyes devoured her. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him, his cock still hard.

Harriet tried to shriek but Voldemort's lips crashed onto hers, stifling any noise of protest she could make. She tried to push him away, but he refused to let go. Instead, he began nibbling on her bottom lip, startling her into opening her mouth. Taking advantage of her surprise, he deepened the kiss, cradling her face in his hands.

Shock coursed through her as she realized there was no difference between Voldemort and Rumple. If she closed her eyes, she couldn't’ tell who she was kissing.

Slowly, she stopped struggling and tentatively kissed him back. His lips were as soft as Rumple’s, his unusually long hands, just as gentle. Harriet’s eyes slowly closed, and she sagged against him, her fingers gripping his dark, flowing robes. Experimentally, she sucked on his bottom lip, drawing a low groan from him.

Abruptly, Voldemort pulled back, his eyes drinking her in, and Hariet felt her sex throb with need.

“So lovely.” Voldemort hissed as his eyes traveled the length of her body, prompting Harriet to glance down at herself.

She was surprised to see she wore the same soiled white dress she had during the final battle. Her ripped bodice hugged her chest and hips, exposing more of her breasts then she remembered, while the skirt shimmered in the moonlight. One puffed sleeve hung off her shoulder, and she was barefoot, the dirt cool between her toes. Crossing her arms over her chest she vaguely wondered if she had looked like this during the final battle, or if this was Voldemort’s twisted little fantasy.

“Where are we?” Harriet asked, her voice shaky.

“Where do you think?” Voldemort hissed, cocking his head to one side. A predatory grin spread across his face as he took in her appearance.

Harriet swallowed, forcing back the frustrated tears that threatened to fall, “I don’t know.”

What in the world was going on? How was Voldemort here? Where was Rumple?

And why had she allowed him to kiss her like that?

Voldemort took another step toward Harriet while she took a step back. Growling in frustration, he snarled, “Why do you keep moving away from me?”

“Why do you think?” Harriet shouted, slightly hysterical.

Voldemort chuckled mirthlessly, “Of course you would only allow me to touch you, when I look like HIM!”

Harriet didn’t say anything, she couldn’t. She was still too confused to fully understand the situation. It didn’t help that she was still aroused and out of sorts from earlier. An awkward silence grew between them as Voldemort gazed at her greedily.

Harriet shifted uncomfortably and finally broke the silence, “I don’t understand why that upsets you.”

Pain and frustration twisted Voldemort’s face as he suddenly darted forward, grabbing her shoulders before she could even dodge. She felt his nails dig into her skin and she hissed in pain. She tried to push him off, but he’d trapped her arms in between their chests.

“We are one in the same!” Voldemort yelled and Harriet turned her face away, trying to pull out of his grip.

“Get off me!” Harriet yelled as she struggled uselessly against his hold.

Growling, Voldemort pinned her against a tree, her head swimming as the back of her head made contact with hard bark. He pulled her arms above her head while quickly hooking his foot around her ankle, spreading her legs wide. Harriet shouted in protest but groaned in pleasure when his clothed cock rubbed against her throbbing pussy. Voldemort froze and gazed into her eyes, before grinding himself against her again. Harriet’s hips thrust forward to meet his and they both moaned in unison, desperately grinding against the other.

The forest seemed to close in around them, shadows dancing wildly as the greenish moonlight illuminated the writhing couple. The trees began to sway and thrash, moving in unison with their own awkward movements, yet neither Harriet nor Voldemort paid attention to their surroundings. Far too engrossed in the pleasure they were finding in the other.

Voldemort nipped her neck and chuckled victoriously as Harriet arched into him. He began thrusting his hips more firmly against her throbbing sex, letting go of her arms to pull her leg against his hip, in search of a better angle. Harriet’s hands fell to his shoulders, grasping his robes as her moans turned into piercing shrieks of pleasure. Voldemort grinned, sure she was nearing her peak, and he quickened his trusts.

“Your body wants me,” Voldemort hissed, their eyes catching, “It knows no difference between us, my love.”

“I…” Harriet muttered, her eyelashes fluttering as her need for him became almost painful. She could feel herself nearing the end, just a few more thrusts and she would cum. Yet…she needed to think, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to share this experience with him.

She needed her own space.

“Get off me!” She burst out, fighting her own body to push him away.

Snarling, Voldemort let her go. Harriet stumbled slightly against the tree as her skirts wrapped around her legs. Yet, he didn’t completely move away. Instead, he gave her just enough room to get away if she wanted to.

But she didn’t.

Taking in Voldemort’s colorless complexion, his red eyes, and flat snakelike nose, she felt a shiver go up her spine. He strongly resembled Rumple, when he changed into the Dark One. It was almost uncanny. Reaching up with shaking hands, she traced his cheekbones and chin. Then she trailed her fingers down his neck and over his shoulders.

“Your body knows no difference!” Echoed in her mind as she examined him and she hated to admit it was true.

Voldemort and Rumple were the same height, which was strange since she’d always thought of Voldemort as towering over her. She leaned against him and found that she still fit perfectly under his chin. His arms immediately wrapped around her and Harriet felt no difference in how he held her.

She swallowed, her throat incredibly dry, as Voldemort purred.

She trailed her palms over his chest and then wrapped her arms around his waist. She looked into Voldemort’s eyes and said shakily, “You really are the same.”

Voldemort sagged against her, bringing their foreheads together as he hissed, “Yesss…”

“Then why…” Harriet tried to ask but was cut off as he passionately kissed her again. With only a little hesitation, Harriet kissed back, tightening her hold against his waist. His fingers played with her hair as he feasted on her lips before pulling back slightly.

“I needed you to see there was no difference,” Voldemort muttered against her lips, “I needed you to feel me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He keeps accusing me of sabotage.” Voldemort replied as he clutched her closer, “He keeps saying that I’m trying to hurt those he loves”

“I…” Harriet began but then stopped. What did he mean?

“But I love what he loves.” Voldemort growled, as he pinned her gently against the tree, “I want what he wants.”

His hands trailed down to the skirt of her dress and began gathering the fabric in his hands, exposing her legs to the cool air, “And oh…. how we want you.”

She gasped at Voldemort’s words, moaning as he began kissing her collarbone, and then the tops of her breasts.

Her eyes widened as he trailed kisses down the front of her chest, setting her skin on far and making her pussy throb with need for him. She could feel his lips through the fabric of her dress and gasped when her skirts were abruptly pulled up. Harriet groaned as his head disappeared in between her legs and her eyes widened as she felt him nibble the bottom of her thigh, just above her knee.

Harriet clutched at the tree trunk, trying to keep her balance. She moaned as his lips moved further up her thigh and watched as his head slowly traveled toward her throbbing pussy.

“I…” Harriet moaned. How in the world was this possible? Why in the hell wasn’t she stopping this? It was Voldemort!

And yet, it was also Rumpelstiltskin.

She felt his lips move to her upper thighs, and she spread her legs a bit wider, desperately needing his mouth on her. She threw her head back in anticipation when it suddenly occurred to her why everything felt so strange; why she felt so out of control.

“This is a dream!” Harriet gasped, freezing Voldemort into place.

Suddenly the landscape changed, and Harriet felt herself thrown backward onto her bed. Glancing at her surroundings, she saw that she was now in her bedroom with her legs spread wide and her dress hitched up to her waist.

Voldemort leaned against her bedroom door, dressed neatly in the black vest, green undershirt and dress pants from the beginning of the dream. Rumple’s cane gleamed in the lamplight as Voldemort held it loosely in his hand. His eyes traveled hungrily down her body and Harriet blushed as she pulled her dress down.

“No need for modesty, my love,” Voldemort chuckled as he slowly walked toward her, his eyes gleaming, “Just a few moments ago I was positioned between those thighs.”

“You’ve invaded my mind,” Harriet accused, ignoring how his words made her throb with want.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Our dear Rumpelstiltskin has finally fallen asleep,” Voldemort sneered, sitting beside her on the bed. He leaned toward her and Harriet swallowed nervously, “Freeing me from my cage.”

“I thought you were the same person?”

“We are, but that IDIOT refuses to see it.”

Harriet startled in realization, “You’re the Darkness.”

“Of course.”

Harriet groaned as she hid her face in her hands. What the hell? How could she have let him…do those things to her.

“None of that now my love,” Voldemort cooed as he pulled her hands from her face, “I only have so much time with you and I would prefer to see your lovely face for as long as I can.”

“You seem very….” Harriet floundered for words, “okay with ... .feelings.”

“It was a shock at first, but eventually I ... adapted.

“What happened?” Harriet asked, sensing there was more to the story. Sitting up, she crossed her legs under her as Voldemort drank in her movements.

“That is a story for another time.” Voldemort said, clearing his throat, “Right now, I need your help.”

“Help with what?” Harriet suspiciously asked.

“With freeing me of course.”

“You're high as hell if you think I’m going to do that.”

Voldemort chuckled, “Not just me you foolish woman, Rumpelstiltskin too.”

“I’m not following you.”

“Clearly.” Voldemort muttered and Harriet lightly kicked him. He glared at her half-heartedly.

Sighing he continued, “If Rumple and I work together .... become one .... then both of us are free.”

“According to Albus,” Harriet said, “that will kill you.”

“Oh, what does he know?” Voldemort sniffed, waving his hand in the air. Harriet’s heart fluttered at how very like Rumpelstiltskin it was. Was Voldemort always this way? Or was it the effect of being…split down the middle?

“Do you know for sure?”

Voldemort paused before muttering, “No.”

They were both silent, the tension thick as Harriet glanced around her room, startled to see how generic it was. There was nothing in her room that spoke of who she was, even her bookshelf lacked personality. The walls were a dark red, the trim gold. The floors were hardwood and the furniture (bed, wardrobe, and bookshelves), were generic.

Had her room always been this lackluster and she never noticed?

“You’re upset.” Voldemort said, his eyes narrowing.

“I….” Harriet replied, startled by the accuracy of his assessment, “I just noticed my room…my life really…lack’s personality.”

“Just now?” Voldemort asked, as a sly smile spread across his face. Leaning forward, he purred, "Was our lovemaking so captivating that it caused you to reevaluate your life?”

“It’s just dream sex, Rum.” Harriet rambled, her nerves getting the best of her as she looked anywhere but at him “That doesn’t count, and we were clothed the entire time. Can dry humping even be classified as sex?”

She glanced over at Voldemort, surprised by his silence, to find him staring at her in wonder, “What?”

“You just called me Rum.”

“Huh…yeah?” Harriet tentatively asked, prompting Voldemort’s grin to widen.

“You don’t see a difference between us?”

Harriet opened her mouth to reply when Voldemort yelled, hands instantly clutching his head.

“What’s wrong?” Harriet asked, sitting on her knees as she reached out to him.

“He’s waking up!” Voldemort groaned as he slipped from the bed onto his knees, “And I don’t want to wake up!”

“Don’t hurt yourself!” Harriet tried to yell but was interrupted when the world suddenly spun. A cascade of black and green interspersed with red and gold abruptly burst in front of her eyes before she bolted upright in bed. She was completely soaked in sweat, her clothing plastered to her body while her hair was wrapped around her face and neck. Pushing her hair away from her eyes, Harriet felt her pussy throb as she scrambled from bed. Looking wildly around, her eyes landed on Severus.

“What in the hell, Potter?” Severus hissed as he stood by her bed, his wand raised and his hand still reaching out toward where she’d laid.

“I…” Harriet replied, completely out of breath, “I had a…dream.”

“A dream?” Severus asked, frowning, “Like before?”

“No!” Harriet yelped before she crossed her arms over her chest. Her nipples had hardened, and she couldn’t let Severus see her in such a state. Her face reddened as he stared at her in bewilderment.

“Harriet?” Severus began but then stopped; at a loss for what to say. He knew something was wrong with her, but the reason wasn’t obvious. Taking in her appearance, his eyes narrowed as he noticed how embarrassed she seemed. What in the world was she embarrassed about? She had only been moaning in her sleep.

His brain froze, and his eyes widened. What he had assumed were moans of pain and fear was clearly…not. Realizing what he had interrupted, his sallow skin took on a faint blush. “I’ll be downstairs in the kitchen.”

Then he turned on his heel, and left, robes billowing behind him. Harriet buried her face in her hands, completely mortified. She would never be able to live this down.

Still, the dream had been incredibly vivid, which wasn’t surprising since it was induced by the Darkness. She wondered if Rumple remembered what had transpired between them or if the walls, he’d built around the Darkness would keep him from knowing.

Did she want him to know? Harriet asked herself as she shut and locked the door. Not that it would do much good, because clearly nobody had boundaries in this house if Severus’s use of alohomora was any indication. Turning, she began peeling her damp clothes off, before shivering in the cool air. She ran her hands through her tangled hair and under her breasts, before lightly gripping them in her hands. Turning, she looked at herself in the mirror, surprised to see she had indeed gained weight. Her breasts, while still small, seemed to have rounded slightly.

Cocking her head to one side, she lightly licked her lips and then firmly grasped her breasts, lightly grazing her nipples with her thumbs. She sucked in a breath at how sensitive they were, before worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. She was still extremely aroused and there was no way she could go downstairs and act normally.

Frustrated, Harriet sat on the end of her bed, one hand still lightly teasing her nipple while the other slipped between her thighs. She laid back and began gently rubbing herself. Closing her eyes, she imagined Rumple’s head between her legs, his tongue teasing her clit before lapping at her wet pussy. She could practically feel his hair in between her fingers, and she whimpered as her organism began to build. She began vigorously rubbing herself as she imagined his fingers easing into her.

An orgasm shook her, freezing her into place, before she lay limply on her bed. She breathed deeply, relieved the tension was gone, before jumping to her feet. She ran to the bathroom and washed her hands; surprised by how disappointed she was that she hadn’t cum in her dream. That she had been forced to finish herself with her own hands instead of Rumple’s.

Or the Darknesses.

Honestly, she didn’t care which, only that some part of Rumple had been there, touching her to completion.

Closing her eyes, she sighed and hung her head before trying to push the dream from her mind. She needed to focus on getting ready and dealing with Severus. Not to mention Belle, Henry, and the seven other people she was now responsible for.

She knew she needed to speak with Rumple, needed to figure out what he remembered, but she just couldn’t face him. Not right then, not when all she could think about was Voldemort’s voice in her ear, his lips on her skin, and how much she wanted him.

Rumple sat straight up in bed, glancing frantically around, uncertain where he was. His head was pounding, and his eyes were swimming. Blinking, his eyes landed on Henry, and he sighed in relief when he realized he was still in his room. Scrubbing at his overheated face, he glanced down at himself and blushed like a schoolboy.

Fuck, but he was still hard.

Swiftly standing, he hurried out of his bedroom and limped across the hall; not even looking to see if he was about to collide with someone. He refused to be caught in such a compromising position. Slamming the door behind him, he locked it, before stumbling back and sitting on the toilet.

What in the hell had he just dreamed?

Harriet had been there; kissing him, running her hands through his hair, moaning under his hands and lips. There had been times she’d barely been able to speak. Rumple’s cock twitched at the very thought, and he stood up in agitation.

He needed a cold shower and a clear head to evaluate the dream. He couldn’t understand why it had changed so abruptly. Everything had been normal at first, until the Darkness had taken over and turned him into Voldemort, hijacking his dream and forcing him into a passive role.

Why? What did it have to gain?

Unless it wasn’t a dream? Could Harriet have really been there? Could she have…. given herself to the Darkness?

Rumple laughed bitterly as he turned on the shower, shaking his head at his own folly. Of course she hadn’t really been there. It was just fanciful wishing. There was no world in which she gave herself to Lord Voldemort. No matter what the Darkness thought.

“You are absolutely, fucking stupid.” The Darkness hissed, “She wants us! She was there!”

Rumple frowned, glancing at himself in the mirror. While his head was still pounding, he did look better. Maybe not well rested but rested all the same. Sleeping had been such a relief, but he was worried about the Darkness. Clearly sleep allowed it to have far too much freedom, far too much influence.

Sighing, he ran his fingers through his shortened hair, regretting his abrupt haircut. Now that he knew what Harriet looked like during sex, he rather wished for his long hair back. Then again, that had just been in his dream, she may not even…. like…. what he had tried to do with her.

“She was there!” The Darkness raged, “She was exactly as you dreamed! Doing exactly what you like!” The Darkness paused before snipping, “and what woman doesn’t like oral?”

Rumple shook his head, desperately trying to get the Darkness to shut up. He couldn’t get his hopes up. Not now, not when the Darkness was his own making. His own family had been unable to embrace the Dark One, and that was when they’d thought he’d been possessed. Why did he keep hoping that Harriet could embrace his Darkness?

Yet, even in his inhuman state, there was no denying that Harriet was attracted to him. She clearly wasn’t bothered by his Dark One persona, yet he refused to consider that she would willingly embrace the actual Darkness. The THING that he used to be.

The monster that had orphaned her.

No. It would be much better if he could get rid of IT. Harriet seemed to think he needed to become one with the Darkness, but he refused to entertain that possibility. Henry was with him, he was responsible for Belle’s safety, and Harriet…well now that he knew what Harriet’s lips tasted like he couldn’t even think of dying.

Rumple turned on the shower and stood under the cold water, his eyes closed. He let the freezing cold pierce his skin, but it wasn’t helping. He was still incredibly aroused. Reaching down, he slowly began stroking himself as his mind thought of Harriet. Of what they’d been doing before the Darkness had taken over.

He licked his lips as he remembered what it felt like to kiss her shoulder, to tease her nipples. He imagined what would’ve happened had he not been interrupted. Of how he would’ve slid down her underwear and jeans. Of how sweet she would’ve tasted, how delicious her cries would’ve been, how her pussy would’ve felt wrapped around his fingers.

He slammed his hand against the shower wall when he came, clenching his teeth to keep from moaning. Painting slightly, he hung his head as he gripped his now flaccid cock.

“Fuck…” Rumple muttered, letting go, “Fuck…fuck…fuck….”

He wanted her, needed her, in a way he hadn’t felt before. Milah, Cora, Belle, none of his love or desire for them compared to what he was feeling for Harriet. It was like he was being eaten alive with want. He needed her, desired her, and it was fucking distracting.

It didn’t help that he was still reeling from falling asleep, something he hadn’t done since he’d been cursed, and all his mental walls were down. Gritting his teeth, he carefully focused his mind and slowly rebuilt his barriers, weaving his desire for peace into every thought

He prayed it would be enough to keep him calm. With Henry now in his care, he couldn’t afford to lose his temper. It would absolutely gut him if his grandson became afraid of him.

Grabbing the soap, he began to wash himself, as he thought of all the things he still had to do. He had to speak with Harriet about their kiss. Draco and the strange dragon needed to be dealt with, Storybrooke needed saving, and his grandson returned to his mothers. In the middle of all that he needed to figure out a way to exorcize the Darkness and a divorce needed to be procured. Not to mention his identity had to remain hidden.

Yet….as he ticked off each problem in his mind, his thoughts slipped back to Harriet and their kiss. Of how soft her lips had been and how she’d grabbed his lapel to kiss him again. There had been no hesitation in her want, no self-reproach. She hadn’t even cared how he looked.

Feeling himself start to respond, Rumple turned the water even colder, helping to shake off his lust. He would be the master of his own damn mind, and he would get a hold of himself. He was over three hundred years old, not a damn schoolboy. He could focus!

And yet…as Harriet’s voice resounded throughout the hall his body froze. He couldn’t make out her words, but the soothing timber of her voice washed over him and he felt a real yearning stir in his heart, chased closely by fear.

He wanted her so terribly, needed her…but what if…after everything…she didn’t want him? What if he was doomed to watch her live her life with someone else? What if he was only ever to be her friend?

Rumple didn’t think he could live with that.

Naked and wet, Rumple stumbled from the shower and slumped onto the lid of the toilet, his head in his hands, when a soft knock came from the door.

“Rumple?” Belle called, her voice soft, “Henry is looking for you!”

“I’m coming,” Rumple replied, his voice shaky with tears, “Just giving me a few seconds.”

Standing, he looked at himself in the mirror and snapped his fingers. His body dried and the clothes he’d slept in changed into something new, something he hadn’t worn before. Grabbing the jeans, he pulled them on before he realized he had no underwear, sighing he shrugged his shoulders, before pulling on his undershirt and green flannel button-up. He made the decision to leave it open, before tucking the undershirt into his jeans. He’d left his shoes and socks in the bedroom, but a snap of his fingers had them materialize before him. The dress shoes turned into boots, and he tied them quickly.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he quickly swept his hair to the side and made a face, vowing to never cut his hair again. Squaring his shoulders, he unlocked the bathroom door and swung it open, prepared to face his soon to be ex-wife.

He wasn’t prepared for Severus Snape to be standing behind her, glaring at him with unconcealed hatred. No amount of sleep in the world could ever prepare him for that.

Chapter Text

Belle yawned as she turned a page, blinking as the words swam before her eyes. Even after reaching the end of the fifth story in the Once Upon a Time book, she still couldn’t understand what was happening. She winced as she looked at the illustration of Lord Voldemort and Professor Dumbledore fighting at the Ministry of Magic. It was glaringly obvious that Rumple and Voldemort were the same person, despite the stark physical differences, yet she couldn’t even begin to fathom how.

It was all so unbelievable and bewildering and left Belle with more questions than answers. The very idea that a woman would willfully enter into an affair with a man that murdered her family and tried to overthrow the wizarding world was mind boggling. Rumple had ruined her life; why on earth was she attracted to him?

She knew her own attraction to Rumpelstiltskin was questionable. Most of the time she could convince herself that she only loved the man; that the Beast inside him was only a consequence of magic. Now, however, she was forced to face the truth; that to some extent she was attracted to his dark side.

Or rather, she had been. Now that she knew where the darkness originated from, she wasn’t sure how to feel.

Rubbing her tired eyes, she closed the book and looked out the window. It was a beautiful day, sunny and bright. Two small figures were tending a vegetable garden that she hadn’t noticed before. Taking in the rest of the backyard she frowned at how empty it seemed. Despite that, she longed to be outside instead of feeling as if she were trapped in a darkened cave. While the room's furnishings were fresh and bright, there was a mustiness that permeated throughout the house, making Belle feel as if she were stuck in a dank mausoleum. Sighing, she stood and stretched, hearing movement in the hall. Hoping it was Rumple, she quickly opened the door and almost ran into Severus Snape.

“Oh!” Belle exclaimed as she took a step back, clutching the Once Upon a Time book to her chest. She stared at the potions master with what she knew was probably contempt. “Good Afternoon Professor.”

“Ms. French.” Severus rumbled. His dark eyes flashed in annoyance and Belle felt slightly uncomfortable by the intensity of his gaze.

“I see my potion has begun the healing process.” Severus continued, his eyes traveling across her face, "Rather…well in fact.”

“Yes,” Belle croaked, licking her lips nervously as she gently touched her nose, “It is rather a relief. Harriet…can hit rather hard.”

“I know Potter has a rather nasty temper, but she usually has a good reason for outright violence.”

“I…” Belle clutched the book even tighter, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Severus stared at her suspiciously before nodding then abruptly turning to leave.

Surprised, Belle yelled, “Wait!”

“Yes?” Severus frowned as he turned back toward Belle.

“I…” Belle bit her lip, “Did you make the potion?”

“Yes.” Severus confirmed, his brow furrowed.

“How?” Belle asked, interest sparking in her eyes, “I…I’m unfamiliar with potions.”

“You’re married to a wizard.” Severus stated his brow furring, “Have you never seen him brew?”

“I’m married to the Dark One.” Belle corrected, a sad smile tugging at her lips. “If he’s using magic, well….it’s…usually not good magic.”

“Then why did you marry him?” Severus asked, exasperated.

“That is none of your business.” Belle snapped, aghast at Severus’ audacity.

Severus rolled his eyes, “I know better than anyone what your husband is capable of, and yet not everything a person does with magic is evil. Even him.”

“I…” Belle replied, but snapped her mouth shut when they heard stomping coming from the alcove stairs. Annoyed, she turned to see Harriet looking at them pensively.

“Is there a problem?”

“No,” Severus dryly replied, turning his attention to Harriet.

Belle silently shook her head, clutching the book tightly to her chest as she examined her hostess. She was wearing her hair in a messy bun. An oversized black sweater, with the letter H stitched in red, was pulled over blue jeans and red tennis shoes. Her face was freshly scrubbed and she seemed well rested. The memory of Harriet in Rumple’s arms flashed across Belle’s mind and she swallowed uncomfortably.

“You’re gotten ready rather fast.” Severus commended and Belle glanced between Harriet and the potions master. The man stood rigidly next to her, seemingly far more tense and defensive than previously. What had happened between them?

She knew what the book said. He had been her professor at Hogwarts and both had positively loathed the other. Yet here he was in her house, speaking to her somewhat civilly, and Harriet seemed unsurprised to see him.

Harriet shrugged and showed Severus her wand. “Magic.”

Belle clenched her teeth and looked at the floor. Uneasily reminded of how out matched she was. She had no way to defend herself against the various witches and wizards that currently dwelled in the house and that left her feeling adrift.

“Yet,” Belle thought, “It’s not like Harriet needed magic to disarm me.”

The thought made Belle feel queasy. The woman outmatched her two to one. Three to one if she counted her own husband's obvious infatuation with her.

“Have you eaten?” Harriet asked, startling Belle from her thoughts, “Why haven’t you changed?”

“I don’t have clothes.” Belle replied stiffly, irritated that she had to remind her hostess.

“There should be clothes in your wardrobe,” Harriet replied, a slight blush gracing her porcelain cheeks, “I’m sorry…didn’t Kreacher tell you?”

“I….” Belle began, but then swallowed, “No….”

Harriet chuckled, “He may not have realized. Winky is usually the one that controls the wardrobe. Kreacher prefers food service.”

Harriet beckoned Belle toward her room and opened the door. She paused for a moment, staring at the bed with a strange intensity before plastering on a fake smile. Pulling open the wardrobe she said, “Don’t be alarmed if the clothes resize.”

“This is house elf magic?” .

“Yes,” Harriet replied, her voice strained, “They are strong in charms and enchantment. Very imaginative too. If their employer’s give them leeway.”

Belle nodded, her shoulders slumping. Even the servants had more power than her. How was she supposed to protect herself? Was she really safer here than in Storybrooke?

She glanced at Harriet, whose eyes had trailed back toward her unused bed. Pain clouded the other woman’s eyes for a brief moment before she glanced back at Belle, clearing her throat.

“Go ahead and get ready. I’m going to head to the kitchens. I’m famished.”

Abruptly, Harriet turned on her heel and left. Belle opened her mouth to stop her, but had no idea what to say. That she hadn’t slept with her husband? That he had been with his grandson the whole night? She didn’t want to make things easier for the raven haired witch.

“If she’s going to steal my husband,” Belle viciously thought, “I’m not going to make it easier on her.”

Turning her attention to the wardrobe, Belle sighed and forced herself to admit, “Although, she is being rather kind.”

“Why is she so nice to me?” Belle asked before she could stop herself. Her face paled in horror when she realized what she let slip.

“Potter cares about people.” Severus sourly replied as he leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed in front of him. He stared at Belle as if she were a bug, making her feel insignificant.

“Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?” Belle asked, taken aback by his attitude.

“It makes it hard to keep her alive.” Severus replied, looking away from Belle and down the hallway, “In my experience, the more people she cares about, the more chances she is willing to take.”

“Isn’t that what heroes do?” Belle asked, looking down at her book and running her fingers reverently over the cover, “Make the hard choices?”

“Sometimes.” Severus admitted, “but it makes for a lonely life.”

Belle frowned and looked at Severus, “How so? She seems surrounded by people. Rumple said there were quite a few people staying here.”

“Only….” Severus paused, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of their conversation “She…drinks too much. Has for years now.”

“Oh.” Belle said, startled, “But why?”

“Your husband killed her parents.” Severus stated sourly, “And tried to kill her, forging a connection between them that nobody has or will ever fully understand.” He paused before continuing, “Her childhood, from what little I’ve heard from others, was difficult. And her time at Hogwarts was….trying.”

“Yes…” Belle said, lifting up the book, “I’ve read some of it.”

“Excuse me?”

“This book….” Belle said, turning it toward Severus so he could read the title, “It chronicles real life stories….stories that directly affect Storybrooke. Harriet’s story….and some of yours too…materialized within these pages.”

“What kind of magic is that?” Severus exclaimed.

Belle shrugged, “I’m not sure. You don’t have anything like it here?”

“Not that I’m aware of. And even if we did, the Ministry wouldn’t allow it out of its control.”

“We can’t let anyone get their hands on this.” Belle said protectively, “It may be just a book…but its contents are priceless.”

“Spoken like a true booklover” Severus replied, his lips quivering slightly.

“Yes…well…” Belle said blushing, surprised to see the slight quirk in the dour man’s lips “Books…well…they won’t hurt you.”

Severus nodded, surprised to find himself agreeing. He had often preferred books to human company. They didn’t disappoint you, but nor did they surprise you. Unlike the women in front of him, who seemed full of nothing but surprises and revelations.

He took in her messy updo, her rumpled appearance, and button nose and couldn’t help but wonder why Rumpelstiltskin had turned his attention elsewhere. Despite being disheveled, beaten, and sad, she was rather beautiful; with the most expressive eyes.

It was a fleeting thought, one he was surprised with himself for having; he’d given up romantic notions long ago. Disturbed, Severus turned to take his leave of Ms. French when he almost ran into Henry Mills.

“What do you want?” Severus asked, internally wincing at himself. For the love of Merlin he knew how to speak to children. Yet, this was the Dark Lord’s grandson. He didn’t want anything to do with the little hellion.

“Henry.” Belle said, hurriedly walking toward the boy, “What do you need?’

“I can’t find grandpapa.” Henry replied, giving Severus space.

Belle placed her hand on Henry’s shoulder, guiding him from her room. “Why don’t you go get ready while I find your grandfather. There should be clothes in your wardrobe.”

Severus watched how tenderly she treated Henry and felt himself grow annoyed by Belle’s situation. Why would this woman show such care for the Dark Lord’s brat? Especially now that he was replacing her with another woman?

“He’s obsessed with another woman.” Severus commented as soon as Henry was back in his room “Kissed her right in front of you …yet you still show care for his brat?”

“I don’t blame children for the actions of their parents.” Belle replied, glaring at Severus reproachfully, “Or their grandparents.”

Spitefully she added, “I know that can be hard for you.”

Severus remained silent, taken aback by Belle’s shift in attitude as she knocked on the bathroom door.

“Rumple?” Belle called softly, “Henry is looking for you!”

“I’m coming,” Rumple replied, his voice muffled by the door.

Belle placed her hand on the door, almost regretfully and then turned her attention back to Severus. They glared at each other, neither sure what to say. Both were annoyed by the direction their conversation had taken.

The bathroom door jerked open and Rumple glanced between his wife and Severus. Cautiously he said, “ Good Morning Belle. To you as well Severus.”

Severus sneered at Rumpelstiltskin before stomping past the couple and down the stairs.

“Where is Henry?” Rumple asked. Not the least bit phased by Severus’ attitude.

“In your room.” Belle replied absently, her eyes staring after Severus, “Is he always like that?”

“Who?” Rumple asked, pausing at his bedroom door.

“Professor Snape.” Belle replied with a huff, “Is he always so…poisonous.”

“Yes.” Rumple bluntly replied, “Severus is a brilliant potions master and spell maker, but the man has the personality of a hive of angry bees.”

Belle giggled. Glancing at Rumple she shyly asked, “Did…you rest?”

“I slept.” Rumple confirmed and Belle sucked in a breath.

“What does that mean?” Belle asked, her voice soft. She had never known him to sleep.

“It means nothing good,” Rumple replied, not looking at her.

“Oh…” Belle whispered as Rumple opened his door. Henry was sitting on his bed, clothes changed, kicking his feet back and forth, and looking incredibly bored.

“Are you ready for something to eat?” Rumple asked as Henry jumped to his feet. He scurried into the hall and beamed at Belle.

“Thanks for saving me from Professor Snape!”

“You’re welcome.” Belle replied, smiling at Henry. She had always liked spending time with him and regretted that she hadn’t done more to support Rumple in building a relationship with him. She’d thought Henry needed time to get used to having another villain in the family, but it seemed that was just another thing she’d been wrong about.

Clearing her throat she said, “I’m going to take a shower and then I’ll be downstairs.”

“Alright.” Rumple nodded, “but watch what you touch. It could easily be spelled.”

“Alright.” Belle said, suddenly looking at everything like a potential bomb, “Is the whole house enchanted.”

“Wizard homes usually are.” Rumple replied as he followed Henry to the stairs. Pausing, he glanced at Belle, his face softening, “Just be careful.”

Belle smiled back, taking a tentative step in his direction, when his face hardened and he began descending the stairs, leaving her standing alone in the middle of the dim, gloomy hall. She bit her lip, trying to keep herself from crying, as a tear escaped.

She’d never felt so hollow. So alone.

Never before had Rumple been so cold towards her. It frightened her and what it meant for the state of their marriage. Between her relationship with Will, his dalliance with Harriet, and their trust issues Belle wasn’t sure there was a marriage worth saving. Especially now she knew the truth about the Darkness.

Sniffing, she hurried to her room and grabbed the first outfit she saw; a pale blue dress with matching high heels. It seemed as if the wardrobe was reading her thoughts, providing her with exactly what she wanted.

Unnerved, Belle quickly gathered her underthings and bolted for the bathroom. While she was leery about meeting everyone, she did not want to be alone in this house any longer than she had to be.

Chapter Text

Harriet hurried down the stairs, jealous and upset. She knew her attention should be on Draco, but her intrusive thoughts kept derailing her focus. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop herself from imagining the worst. In a loop, she kept picturing Rumple sneaking out of his room to speak with wife. She could envision Belle crying and Rumple reaching out to comfort her. They’d stare into each other’s eyes, before Belle would abruptly kiss him. Then one thing would lead to another and they’d end up fucking on the sitting room couch while Rumple sent the Darkness to distract her.

Belle's clothes had been rumpled and her hair had been wild, feasibly it could have happened. Now that her barriers were strong, she didn’t think she would feel Rumple’s guilt; the Darkness’ seduction would have distracted her from feeling his lust. She hadn’t seen him with Belle earlier, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t hiding somewhere, thinking of ways to let her down gently.

Harriet paused on the first floor. Clutching her suddenly dry throat as she stared hard at the front door. She could leave, it would be awhile before anyone would miss her. She could walk right out the door, head straight to the nearest bar, and forget her problems. For a little while at least. If she stumbled on Draco while she was out, then even better. At least then, he could take his anger out on her and leave her loved ones alone.

She took two unsteady steps toward the front door, seriously considering throwing her sobriety away on a good bottle of wine, when she heard Teddy’s laugh come from down the hall. She physically shook herself and all but stumbled toward the kitchen. She wasn’t going to let her insecurities sabotage her future. There was more than her relationship with Rumple at stake.

But what if Belle wanted Rumple back? Would he take her? It seemed possible that he would. They had just gotten married, after all, and Rumple was old fashioned.

Swallowing back bile, Harriet leaned against the wall and sucked in a breath. Closing her eyes, she focused on her jealousy and insecurities and swept them to the back of her mind. She made herself remember the kiss they shared, focusing on how it made her feel. For one brief moment they had been one flesh, one soul. In her heart she knew nothing could possibly happen between Belle and Rumple now. Yet, despite knowing all of that, Harriet still couldn’t help the small bit of jealousy still squeezing through her barriers. Belle was beautiful and intelligent and she found it hard not to compare them.

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed in greeting, pulling Harriet from her thoughts as she walked into the kitchen. Hermione looked tired and frazzled. Her hair was in a messy bun and she wore an oversized hoodie with yoga pants. Hermione never wore yoga pants. She hated yoga.

“Hey Monie,” Harriet replied, clearing her dry throat as she took a seat across from her friend. Glancing around her kitchen, she was glad to see Winky and Kreacher had kept the remodel.

When she had first moved into Grimmuald Place, the kitchen had been a cavernous, dark hole with a large fireplace and iron pots and pans hanging from the ceiling like medieval torture devices. After arguing with Remus for almost a week, he’d agreed to change it.

Now the kitchen was filled with natural light, Kreacher having installed multiple windows. The flooring was a black and white checkerboard tiling, while the counters and cupboards were standard white. Her kitchen table had been elongated and widened to easily fit a party of seven, and the pots and pans were neatly tucked into their proper places. Three doors led off from the kitchen; one to the backyard and two to Winky and Kreacher’s living quarters.

“What are you reading?”

“Don’t even try to distract us.” Ron warned as he sat next to his wife, a plate full of sandwiches in front of him. He looked just as tired as Hermione, his blue t-shirt and grey sweatpants doing nothing to mask the exhaustion on his face.

“Did you try and sleep when you got in? You both look tired.”

“Who is that woman?” Hermione asked, ignoring Harriet’s question and pointing toward the upper floors. Ron frowned before turning his attention to his plate.

Harriet sighed and leaned back in her chair. Crossing her arms, she said uncomfortably, “Rumple’s wife. Belle.”

“His wife?” Hermione and Ron exclaimed.

“Yes.” Harriet replied, making sure to keep her voice even, “She was in danger. So I told him to bring her here.”

Ron and Hermione exchanged a meaningful glance, before Ron asked, “Does she know about Voldemort?”

“I don’t know what Rumple has told her,” Harriet replied, uncrossing her arms and tapping the kitchen table with her nails, “I took a nap.”

Hermione frowned, but before she could reply, their conversation was abruptly interrupted. Severus charged into the kitchen, his robes billowing around him like a dark storm. His face was a nasty shade of red and his hair looked a bit disheveled, as if he'd been running his fingers agitatedly through his hair.

“That woman is insufferable!” He yelled, flinging his hands in the air.

“What happened?” Harriet asked, trying not to laugh at seeing the normally composed Potions Master so undone.

Severus refused to speak, preferring instead to stomp toward the kitchen counter. Kreacher had left two towering piles of sandwiches (cucumber and cream cheese and egg and chicken salad) lined perfectly along the kitchen counter in silver serving trays. Plain white plates were sitting next to the food, while two matching teapots were set off to the side, steaming with hot liquid. The matching cups sat next to the teapots, waiting to be of use.

“Your house elf thinks of everything.” Severus grumbled as he poured a cup of tea and grabbed one of each sandwich.

Harriet nodded, standing to serve herself, when Severus placed the tea and sandwiches in front of her before stomping back and pouring himself a cup of tea. Ron’s eyes widened as he glanced between the two; not having seen them interact for some years now.

“Thanks Severus.” Harriet muttered as she sank back into her chair. Sipping her tea she said, “I could have gotten it myself.”

“Just eat, Potter.” Severus snapped as he sat next to her, cradling his own teacup.

“You didn’t answer our question, Professor.” Hermione reminded him.

“She doesn’t like magic.” Severus replied with a sniff, “yet she married a wizard.”

“I don’t know if she dislikes magic or if she’s just cautious of it. Everything is different in the Enchanted Forest.” Harriet replied before taking a bite of her sandwich

“Enchanted Forest.” Severus sneered, “Different worlds. What type of mess have you stepped into?”

“I…” She sighed, “I couldn’t tell you Severus, but…I think it’s my fault.”

“How could it possibly be your fault?”

“When I died, I had control of all three Hallows.” Harriet quietly replied. Hermione’s eyes widened as Ron gasped. Severus sat his teacup down.

“I…I don’t remember what happened after…but I did…something.” Harriet trailed off, struggling to remember. Something white flashed in her mind as she sucked air between her teeth; pain slamming into her skull. Harriet doubled over as she heard a faraway voice whisper, “Are you sure? Magic like this always comes with a price.”

“Harriet?” Severus exclaimed, grabbing her shoulders and steading her before she could fall off her chair.

Harriet winced at the pain, reaching up to rub her forehead, before saying, “It’s alright Severus. This happens every time I try to remember.”

Severus slowly let her go, watching to see if she would have another fit, before picking his teacup back up and worriedly glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

“So…” Hermione said, perplexed by Severus and Harriet’s closeness, “You think something happened after you died?”

“Yes.”

“And how are we going to figure that out?”

“That’s where Severus comes in!” Rumple announced as he limped into the kitchen.

Harriet felt her heart flutter as soon as she heard his lilting voice. Her eyes looked for him before she even consciously made the decision to seek him out. He was casually dressed in tight fitting blue jeans with a white undershirt tucked into his jeans, showing off his lean chest and softening middle. Over it, he’d pulled on a green flannel shirt that remained unbuttoned, showing off his slim shoulders and lean frame. As he walked past, she glanced at his ass, blushing at how well he filled out his jeans.

“Harriet!” Henry shouted as he followed Rumple into the kitchen, inching closer to Harriet when he noticed Severus was in the room. Severus glared at the boy but said nothing, preferring to ignore his existence.

“Henry!” Harriet exclaimed, forcing her attention from Rumple’s distracting ass. She patted the seat next to her, “Come sit by me.”

Henry beamed as he took a seat. Looking between Ron and Hermione he chirped happily, “Hi, I’m Henry Mills. You must be Ron and Hermione!”

“Hello….” Hermione said, amusement coating her voice.

“Where did the kid come from?” Ron asked in between bites of food.

“Henry is my grandson.” Rumple explained as he sat a plate full of sandwiches and a cup of tea in front of Henry, “Be careful Henry. The tea is hot.”

“Ummmm,” Henry said suddenly shyly, “I…I don’t like tea grandpapa.”

“No?” Rumple asked, his voice softening as Henry stared bashfully down at his food, “Did you ever try it?’

“Once or twice with mom.”

“Oh lad, you shouldn’t let Regina make tea. She’s terrible at it.” Rumple replied with a long suffering sigh as he took the boy’s untouched tea back to the counter. He found a clear glass and filled it with water, placing it in front of Henry as he giggled.

“Get him some milk, Rum,” Harriet encouraged as she pointed toward the refrigerator, “He’s a growing boy. He needs more than just water.”

She went to stand, intending to help, when Severus said sternly, “Eat your food, Potter. The Dark Lord can take care of his own spawn.”

Rumple froze, the door to the refrigerator standing wide open. His magic crackled through the air as he held the milk carton in his shaking hands, struggling to keep his temper in check.

Henry paused mid bite, gently placing his sandwich back on the plate as he pleaded, “Grandpapa …. .please don’t hurt Professor Snape.”

Severus sputtered, aghast that he was being defended by a mere child, when he noticed Rumpelstiltskin was practically vibrating with suppressed rage. Quickly, Harriet stood and hurried over to him, gently taking the milk before he could drop it.

“Rumple?” Harriet began, tentatively placing her hand on his shoulder. His jaw was clenched, his hands were curling into fists, and his face was taking on a nasty shade of red. Faintly, she could feel his anger throbbing at the back of her mind, but it was far more muted than normal. She wasn’t sure if that was her doing or his.

Swallowing, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and shut the refrigerator door. Taking the milk from her, he aggressively grabbed a glass before pouring some for Henry. He stood there for a moment, his back to the room, before he calmed himself enough to effectively communicate.

“I would appreciate it, Severus,” Rumple said sharply, reopening the fridge and placing the milk inside, “If you would speak about my grandchild with more respect.”

Severus said nothing as he watched Rumpelstiltskin. One word, one wrong move, and he was sure they would come to blows.

“Henry is a good lad.” Rumpelstiltskin continued, his voice turning ugly despite his attempt to remain calm, “With a good heart and I will not see you bully him simply because you do not like me.”

Again Severus said nothing. Just a few days ago Rumpelstiltskin had been uncontrollably angry. Now, he seemed in control of his emotions. That worried Severus. A calm Dark Lord, was a dangerous Dark Lord.

“Do we have an understanding, Severus?”

“Yes.” Severus replied, his tone clipped, taking a sip of his tea to cover his anxiety.

“Wonderful!” Rumple replied. An insincere smile plastered on his face as he handed Henry his milk.

An awkward silence descended upon the kitchen, broken only by Belle’s sudden appearance.

“Hello.” Belle said stiffly, eyes only for Rumpelstiltskin.

Harriet was disgusted to see that Belle looked lovely in her pale blue dress and newly remade updo. She wanted nothing more than to accidentally pour hot tea all over her skirt. Afraid that her jealousy would show, Harriet quickly turned toward the kitchen counter, trying to find something to busy herself with. Henry ducked his head and went back to eating while Severus continued to sip his tea as if nothing had happened. Ron and Hermione shared a glance. They weren’t sure what was happening, but they both silently agreed to stay. If they were going to remain here, then they needed to know what was going on.

Once Hermione realized nobody was going to say anything, she politely replied, “Good Afternoon. I'm Hermione Granger-Weasley and this is my husband Ron Weasley.”

“I’m Belle French.” Belle replied, wincing slightly as she gave them her Storybrooke name. She was still angry at Rumple, but now that she was calmer, she felt she’d been hasty in changing her name.

“Not Gold?” Ron thoughtlessly asked.

Hermione elbowed him, growling a scandalized, “Ronald!”

Henry snorted into his milk while Ron winked at him. Hermione glared at both of them, mouthing for them to remain quiet.

“No.” Belle curtly replied; turning her attention to Harriet. Tentatively, she asked, “Could I use your phone? I need to speak to Will.”

“Whose Will?” Ron asked, again far too loudly. Henry kicked him under the table, surprising Hermione into a loud chuckle.

“Her boyfriend.” Rumple scornfully replied as Belle flushed a deep red.

Harriet cleared her throat and pulled her phone from her back pocket., “Here.”

“Thanks.” Belle replied as she took the phone and backed out of the kitchen, “I’ll just be a moment.”

She disappeared into the hallway and Ron muttered rather loudly, “Well…that’s complicated.”

“Shut up, Ronald.” Harriet snapped, plopping into the seat next to Severus.

“Mr. Gold?.” Hermione asked, tactfully changing the subject, “You were saying something about Professor Snape?”

“Yes.” Rumple said as he took a sandwich and sipped Henry’s untouched tea, “Severus is a highly skilled Occlumens and is proficient in the use of Legilimency. He may be able to discover why Harriet is in pain every time she tries to remember the events that occurred after her death”

Harriet was quiet, letting the information sink in before asking, “Did you think of asking me before proposing this?”

“Well…this would be with your permission of course.” Rumple replied, leaning against the kitchen counter as he ate his sandwich.

“And if I don’t give permission?” Harriet asked, her voice gruff. As much as she trusted Severus, she didn’t want him rooting around in her mind. Not now that she knew the Darkness had easy access. If Severus should discover that, she wasn’t sure what he would do.

“Then I suppose we think of another plan.” Rumple replied, frowning at her hesitancy.

“Why can’t you do it?”

“I certainly could try.” Rumple carefully replied, furrowing his brow, “However. It has been far too long since I used Legilimency and I was never as good of an Occlumens as Severus.”

Severus stared at Rumpelstiltskin, flabbergasted by his praise; especially so soon after they had nearly come to blows.

“There was a reason why I recruited you, Severus.” Rumpelstiltskin gruffly replied, “And it wasn’t your charming personality.”

Severus nodded, at a loss for anything to say, when Belle charged back into the kitchen; clearly upset.

“Here.” Belle said, shoving the phone at Harriet.

“Everything okay?” Harriet asked, taking the phone from Belle as she stood and walked toward the kitchen counter; her shoulder brushing Rumple’s arm. She made a show of looking for another sandwich, despite leaving her plate on the table. She just wanted to stand next to him. To feel his body next to hers, to soak in his heat; knowing that just a few short hours ago their kiss had marked him as hers. Even in her dreams, when she had fought so hard to deny him, he had been hers.

“No it is not.” Belle snapped, pulling Harriet from her lustful thoughts

“Ah…” Rumple sneered, his voice taking on the manic nature of the Dark One, “How is Will Scarlet?”

Despite Harriet’s close proximity, which usually calmed him, Rumple’s anger at Belle’s betrayal ripped through him. It wasn’t that he was having second thoughts about their divorce; he did not want Belle back. It was her complete lack of loyalty that infuriated him. She had sworn to “love, honor, and cherish” him, but the ink had barely dried on the marriage license before she’d thrown that all away to play hero.

From the corner of his eye, he glanced at Harriet, feeling comforted by her presence. He may have chosen poorly with Belle, but he suspected things would be different with Harriet.

If she chose him.

“He left!” Belle snapped, “Ashley answered his phone and told me he went back to Wonderland! He didn’t even know I was gone!”

Rumple cocked his eyebrow and tried not to look too amused by the turn of events, which only enraged Belle.

“What do you know, Rumpelstiltskin?” Belle hissed as her hands clenched into fists.

Rumple smirked as he crossed his arms, “Well…I know that Will Scarlet’s True Love is Anastasia, the Red Queen of Wonderland. I know she is an extremely jealous woman and you have been very lucky she hasn’t come along looking for Will before now.”

Belle stilled, her face losing color as the fight went out of her, “She’s still alive?”

“Yes.” Rumple replied, his eyes unsympathetic, “Didn’t he tell you, dearie?’

“No.” Belle faintly replied, “He said he lost his True Love. I thought that meant she died….he…he never corrected me.”

“I’m surprised our dear Cinderella didn't share the news.” Rumple mused.

“Why would she?” Belle dully asked, sinking into Harriet’s vacated chair.

“Cinderella is Anastasia's stepsister.” Rumple replied, “ But perhaps she didn’t know.”

Belle put her head in her hands, clearly embarrassed, while Rumple scowled at her before looking away. He didn’t enjoy seeing her in pain, never had, but he also couldn’t deny feeling satisfaction at Will’s lie. She had placed the Knave of Hearts on a pedestal and he was gratified to see him fall.

Taking pity on her; he suggested, “Why don’t we speak about this privately dearie?”

Flinching at Rumple’s suggestion, Harriet accidentally knocked two cups together drawing Belle’s attention. Her eyes narrowed as she sneered, “Why do you want to speak privately now, Rumple? Are you too embarrassed by your own affair? You can’t take the moral high road when everyone else knows your business, can you?”

Rumple’s eyes hardened as his jaw clenched, “I’m not having an affair.”

“Aren’t you?” Belle taunted, tears in her eyes, “You seem quite cozy with Harriet.”

“Leave me out of this” Harriet snapped, her body stiffening as she stared at the teapots, not even glancing in Belle’s direction.

Belle jumped to her feet, her eyes angry and wet as she shouted, “You put yourself in the middle when you snogged my husband!”

Severus tensed in his seat, poised to block Potter should she lunge at Belle. Across from him, Ron and Hermione gasped, horror flashing in their eyes. Hermione knew that Harriet had a crush but for her to act so impulsively, especially where men were concerned, was unlike her. She was always doubting herself and Hermione had counted on that hesitation to give her time to intervene. Meanwhile Henry was caught in the middle of the chaos, startled and confused by Belle and Harriet’s argument. Didn’t Belle understand her marriage was over?

“And if you hadn’t banished your husband,” Harriet growled, pivoting to glare at Belle, “You wouldn’t have the problem you're having now!”

“Did he tell you why he got banished?” Belle shouted, pointing at Rumpelstiltskin.

“I don’t care!” Harriet bellowed, stepping aggressively toward her, “it’s not about the banishment! It’s about you and your entitlement. You don’t want him, but god forbid someone else does!”

Rumple stiffened, glancing at Harriet in wonder. Nobody had ever defended him like this. Not even Belle. She spent more time chastising him than actually lending support.

“He killed your parents!” Belle shouted, her voice shrill, “He tried to take over your world!”

Harriet glared at Belle as the other woman took a reckless step toward her. She felt her hands curl into fists; nails digging into her skin. Her head began to pound as she tried to focus through her anger. Her hands itched to throttle the other woman, but she refused to give in to her baser instincts.

“He killed you.” Belle hissed, clearly frustrated.

“Is there a question in there?” Harriet growled, her teeth clenched. Ron began to stand but Hermione held him back, her eyes darting between Harriet and Belle. She shook her head at her husband: wanting to see how this played out.

“Why do you want him?” Belle shrieked, “You’re a hero! A Savior! How could you possibly want someone so dark?”

Rumple flinched as he closed his eyes; his head throbbing with Harriet’s anger and his own shame. Belle’s words, while cruel, hit close to home. Why would Harriet want him? Why would she choose him? They had only spent one week together. How could he expect anything from her? So soon? It wasn’t feasible. It wasn’t possible. Harriet was a hero and he was her villain. They wouldn’t work.

He needed to accept that.

“Because he’s mine.” Harriet possessively replied as Rumpelstiltskin's eyes snapped open in astonishment. She shifted toward Rumple, her anger draining away as she softly smiled at him, “He chose me, Belle. All those years ago. There were two of us to choose from; a boy and a girl. A pure blood wizard and a half blood witch. Given his beliefs, I shouldn’t have even been a consideration.”

Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as she gave Rumpelstiltskin a watery smile. Compassion for him welled inside her as she reached out with shaking hands and clutched one of his own. He had come so far, had changed so much, she wouldn't let him drift anymore. She would finally claim him as hers.

“Yet I was.” Harriet continued; tears in her voice “He feared only himself … .and who I had the potential to become reminded him too much of that.”

“Harriet,” Rumple croaked, overcome with awe. He had never felt so seen, so understood before. It felt like his soul was being flayed open, his secrets drug out and exposed for everyone to see, yet, he wasn’t afraid. Harriet was here, holding his hand, letting him know that it would be okay. Letting him know that he was finally understood.

“Fear has always been your biggest downfall Rum.” Harriet said, “Fear of failure, fear of dying, fear of loss.” Harriet kissed his hand and whispered, “Fear of self.”

Rumple swallowed and closed his eyes, leaning forward so their foreheads were touching

“I have so many regrets.” Rumple whispered, his right arm becoming numb. He clenched his jaw for a moment as the pain spread up his arm and across his chest. His breathing turned ragged and he clenched his teeth together. Harriet felt the echo of his pain and pulled him close.

“It’s alright Rum.” Harriet whispered, “Just breathe through it. It will pass.”

“No, it’s not alright.” Rumple replied, fighting against the pain. He wouldn’t let it silence him. Nor would he let it derail his confession. He was going to speak his truth, even if it killed him.

He pulled back and cupped her face, struggling through the pain, “I regret so many things Harriet, but meeting you, can never be one of them. As painful as remembering who I used to be has been, as regretful as I am. I cannot imagine a world where I never knew you.”

Harriet sniffed and closed her eyes, she tentatively opened her mental barriers and almost sobbed with the strength of his pain and regard, “Oh Rum…”

Belle took a step back, heartbroken by the scene before her. She had never seen Rumple so open, so raw. She was no stranger to a crying and upset Rumpelstiltskin, but to see him so convicted. So sure. That was an emotion she had never seen from her husband.

“Did you ever love me?” Belle asked, her voice loud and grating against the deafening silence that had filled the kitchen.

Clearing his throat, he kissed Harriet’s scar, and regretfully pulled away. Harriet stood next to him, her arms crossed, lending him her support as he confronted his wife. The pain in his chest worsened, making him grit his teeth, before receding to nothing but a dull ache.

“Of course I did.” Rumple replied, his voice horse, “I thought you hung the sun and the stars, sweetheart.”

Belle sobbed into her hands as Rumple stepped closer, “When I thought you had died, my world felt darker without you in it.”

“Our entire relationship has been a yoyo.” Belle whispered, “I’m there and then I’m not. First you send me away, and then Regina…..”

“She took you from me,” Rumple sadly replied, “For leverage…and then later for spite.”

“And then you died.”

“And when I came back,” Rumple whispered, “You…didn’t want me anymore.”

“I did!” Belle insisted, “I just wanted to be chosen over that stupid dagger!’

“But I did choose you.” Rumple insisted, “As best as I could while beholden to that thing. That’s why I tried to sever my ties with it. I didn’t want to be used against those I loved. It was how I lost Bae … .the thought of the same thing happening with you or Henry was unbearable. I didn’t want to kill Killian, but his death was the price I had to pay for your safety.”

“But the gauntlet…” Belle whispered, horrified as she began to understand what he’d been trying to tell her all along.

“Shows you a person’s greatest weakness.” Rumple finished, “Sometimes…that’s the person you love most….but for me….well….” Rumple trailed off, as he reached for his cane and twisted the top, pulling the dagger free. He held it aloft, his name gleaming in the light. Rumple turned the blade, exposing its other side, his eyes widening in astonishment; Tom Marvolo Riddle was etched on the opposite side.

“Well…well….” The Darkness whispered, “You have claimed me after all.”

“Rumple…” Harriet said worriedly, “What does this mean?”

“I…” Rumple swallowed and shook his head, “I don’t know….it wasn’t there last night.”

“Are you sure?” Harriet asked, her eyes not straying from the name on the blade.

“I’m sure, Beauty.”

“I wonder if this is because you slept…” Harriet muttered and Rumple frowned. He hadn’t told her that. His mind flashed to his dream, at what the Darkness had shared of his condition during their lustful encounter, and his eyes widened.

“I told you she was ours.” The Darkness chuckled.

“And we’re hers.” Rumple thought. Glancing down at his dagger, Rumple traced his old name, feeling a sudden sense of calm. He knew exactly what he had to do. There was a reason that Harriet was the Guardian of the Dagger and it wasn’t because she’d been his Horcrux.

“This is my weakness, Belle.” Rumple said, lifting the weapon slightly in emphasis, “It can control everything I do, turning me into nothing but a puppet.” He laughed hollow, “All this power and I’m still beholden to his damn thing.”

Belle looked at her feet in shame, “I understand now.”

“I don’t think you do.” Rumple sadly replied, “When I needed someone, you helped me to be strong. I tried so hard to be better for you….but I couldn’t. I was only half a person. I couldn’t have been what you needed, no matter how much I wanted to be.”

“But now…” Belle began, taking a hopeful step toward him, “Now you know who you are. We could…you could…” She trailed off, her emotions overwhelming her. She finally understood that she wanted him; despite his horrible origins as Voldemort. They could make their marriage work. She knew now what he was and could accept it, but her heart shattered as he stepped away from her.

“Harriet’s right, Belle,” Rumple replied, “I was never yours.”

Belle swallowed hard, blinking through the tears that streaked her face. She watched, tense, as Rumple shifted toward Harriet, his stare heavy on the dagger in his grip.

“As Lord Voldemort, I never felt love.” Rumple said, his voice strong; for once he wasn’t afraid, he knew he was making the right decision, “Obsession, possession, curiosity, anger, rage, and hate were the extent of my emotions. It wasn’t until Severus told me about the prophecy, that I even felt fear.”

Rumple swallowed, turning the blade so he could stare at his old name, “And that fear…it overtook everything I did, everything I thought, and every decision I made. The wizarding world attributed it to Albus…but….”

Looking into Harriet’s glittering emerald eyes, a soft smile played on his lips as he murmured in wonder, “You, my darling Beauty, were my first fear. My bitter downfall. The humbling I never even knew I needed.”

Harriet looked between Rumple and the dagger, confused as to his intentions; until he took her hand and placed the hilt in her palm, gently wrapping her fingers around it.

“Rumple…” Harriet said, panic in her voice as she tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t allow it.

“I killed hundreds of people as Lord Voldemort. Thousands probably” Rumple whispered, his voice taking on a faint hissing quality, “but you were the first person I killed, that I wished I hadn’t.

Harriet sucked in a breath, tensing under his intense gaze.

“When I killed you, it was as if a part of me died. I was disturbed and regretful.” Rumple admitted, “It wasn’t an emotion I was used to.”

Harriet swallowed hard, her eyes never leaving Rumple’s as her mind flashed to Lord Voldemort’s whispered, “What a pity” and the regret that had clouded his amber eyes.

“When you came back,” Rumple said, cupping her cheek as the hiss in his voice became more pronounced, “I felt…almost relieved, as if I intuitively knew the world was poorer without you in it. It threw me off guard.”

He pulled her forward, careful not to skewer himself with the dagger and placed his forehead against hers, “When we fought, it was a perfect dance, Harriet. Our very first. We were perfectly in sync.” He closed his eyes and breathed in her scent, “until we weren’t.”

“When you defeated me … .I knew then that I had finally met my equal. My match.” Rumple whispered, his voice taking on the discordant flow of the Darkness as they became united in a common cause, “I think…it’s hard to remember….but I think….that was the first time I had ever felt love.”

“Oh Rumple…,” Harriet whispered. She clutched the dagger in one hand, terrified that if she let it go someone would use it against them, while she ran the fingers of her other hand through his shortened hair. She tilted her head forward and captured his lips with her own.

“He tastes like coming home.” Harriet thought, their lips meeting in a slow, gentle caress. With shaking hands, Rumple reached out and cradled her face, his touch achingly tender as warmth spread between them. He drank her in, delighting in the softness of her lips as the fragrance of her shampoo flooded his senses; making him giddy with need.

Harriet’s toes curled as the gentle caress of their kiss turned into a quiet fervor. She clutched the collar of his flannel shirt with one hand while holding the dagger tightly with the other. She knew they needed to separate, they were in a kitchen full of people, but she couldn’t make herself move away. She felt the gentle knock on her mental barriers, the quiet inquiry for entry, when she heard. “What the fuck is going on!”

Rumple tore himself away as he glared at the kitchen door. Remus was standing frozen in the doorway, Teddy at his side, both wide-eyed as they stared at Rumple and Harriet.

“What is going on?” Remus repeated, quieter this time, “We heard yelling and came down to…whatever we just saw.”

“Harriet has decided to engage in a rather ill conceived love affair with the Dark Lord,” Severus replied, his voice edged in steel.

“What?” Remus shrieked. Teddy edged away from his father, his attention on the other boy in the room. Walking up to him, he took the last seat at the table and whispered, “I’m Teddy.”

“Henry Mills.” Henry replied, a secretive smile spreading across his face.

“What’s going on?” Teddy whispered, as he glanced at a flabbergasted Ron and Hermione.

“I’ll tell you later.” Henry whispered back, his attention laser focused on his grandpapa. Pushing his plate toward Teddy he said “Here, take my last sandwich.”

Teddy nodded, intrigued by the possibility of a new friend as he munched on the sandwich, trying to understand what was happening before him.

“You heard me, wolf.” Severus snapped, glaring at his former schoolmate.

“But…but…”

“Exactly.” Ron said as he stood quickly; his eyes wild. Rumple pulled Harriet possessively to his chest as he glared at the occupants of Grimmauld Place.

“You're not taking her from me.” Rumple hissed, his eyes flaring amber as his skin began to prick.

“Nobody will.” Belle whispered, tears streaming down her face. She had lost her husband; if she had ever had him in the first place. The way he clutched Harriet, as if she were a lost treasure that he had just reclaimed, tore Belle apart. Never had Rumple touched her like that. He had always been tentative with her, as if he were afraid she would recoil in disgust. It hadn’t changed once they married, but then Belle hadn’t noticed. She’d gotten used to it.

“The hell we won’t!” Ron shouted as he surged forward, intending to tear Harriet from Rumpelstiltskin's grip. Hermione, however, grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

“Ron.” Hermione hissed, her eyes never leaving Rumpelstiltskin's. She thought about how effortless he’d been with the children; befriending a normally reserved Rose almost as soon as he met her. She thought of his fierce determination to find her and how protective he’d been when he confronted Macnair. There was no denying how dangerous he was, how inhuman. Yet, there was a gentleness to him. She saw it in the way he cared for his grandson, in how he treated Harriet, and how he interacted with their own children. He was a terrifying enemy, but a formable alley.

“What?” Ron snapped, seeing the look Hermione was giving him, “Hermione….no.”

“Who are we to stop this Ron?” Hermione asked, her voice breaking, “We abandoned her when she needed us most, we left her alone, and now that she’s found love….”

“He’s evil!” Ron yelled.

“Is he?” Hermione whispered, glancing at Rumple. His eyes were at once fearsome and afraid. She knew that if they managed to take Harriet away from him, he would break, and the world would be poorer for it.

Ron deflated as he looked into his wife’s eyes. Looking at Rumpelstiltskin, he forced himself to see the truth; the former Dark Lord was now simply a man. A man that was desperate to love and to be loved in return.

Begrudgingly, he gritted his teeth and said, “Harriet is our best friend, our sister. It’s true that we haven’t always had her best interests at heart, but she’s our family and we won’t have her be mistreated.”

“I would never….” Rumple began but Ron put his hand up for silence.

“I know.” Ron whispered glancing between his friend and Rumple, “Merlin help me, but I know.”

“Then what are you saying, Mr. Weasley?” Rumple asked, his voice returning to its usual lilting timbre. The hiss was gone, the Darkness having receded to the back of his mind, and his eyes were no longer amber. He was nothing more than a man once again.

“What will he be like when he’s whole?” Ron thought, but then shook his head, they would cross that bridge when they got to it. For Harriet’s sake.

“I’m saying,” Ron said, taking Hermione’s hand in his own and squeezing it. She smiled up at her husband, her heart filled with love for him, “That…we love her…and that ... ..we will accept you…as long as you accept us.”

Rumple turned mute, shocked at the sudden turn of events. He thought he was going to have to fight the Weasleys, traumatizing not only Henry and Teddy, but the Weasley children as well.

“Of…course.” Rumple croaked and Harriet smiled mistily at Ron and Hermione: mouthing a silent “Thank you”

Severus crossed his arms and glared hard at Rumpelstiltskin, “I don’t agree with this.”

“I know Severus.” Harriet replied, her heart aching as she prepared to have her friendship with Severus end.

“He’ll eventually turn on you.” Severus warned.

“I will not.” Rumple snarled, his fear spiking. Would Severus try to take Harriet away from him? Out of everyone here, Severus would be the most likely to succeed.

“You say that…” Severus said; his silky voice calm. He wasn’t arguing, he wasn’t yelling, he was just stating a simple face, “but you will. A zebra can’t change their spots.”

“But a snake can shed its skin.” Harriet replied, as she smiled up at Rumple, “And he is the King of Snake; isn’t he Severus?”

“I…” Severus replied, at a loss on how to reply when Belle brushed past him, hurrying for the door.

“I’m going to my room.” Belle cried tears choking her voice, “I can’t be here.”

She ran out, noisily crying as her footsteps pounded down the hall and then up the stairs in a frantic rhythm. Rumple averted his gaze and buried his face in Harriet’s hair, needing to breathe in her scent to steady himself.

“It will get easier, my love.” Harriet whispered, carding her fingers through his air.

“She was my friend,” Rumple whispered, “In the beginning; before we were anything else.”

Harriet sighed as she closed her eyes, his sorrow tickling the back of her mind. She allowed him a moment to mourn his marriage, before she pulled away.

“Rumple.” Harriet said, lifting the dagger, “What am I going to do with this thing?”

“Guard it.” Rumple replied with a watery smile.

“I don’t want to control you.” Harriet replied, panic edging into her voice.

“Oh Beauty,” Rumple chuckled, taking her free hand in his, “Don’t you realize the power you have over me?”

“I…” Harriet said, glancing at the dagger. What did he mean?

Suddenly, a cell phone rang throughout the quiet kitchen. Hurriedly Henry pulled his phone from his pocket, his face turning pale when he saw the name on the screen.

“Who is it Henry?” Rumple asked, coming to stand next to grandson as dread pooled in his stomach.

Henry looked up at his grandfather, “Emma.”

Rumple gritted his teeth as he glanced at the Savior’s name on the screen. He’d thought he would have longer with Henry before his mothers noticed his absence. They could be notoriously neglectful when distracted.

The phone abruptly stopped, and Rumple was just about to sigh in relief when his phone began to ring. Grimacing, he pulled it from his pocket and answered it, “Ah…Sheriff Swan. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

“Cut the shit, Gold.” Emma snarled over the phone, “Where the fuck is my kid.”

Chapter Text

Archie couldn’t sit still, guilt pushing him to pace around his small office. He knew he was giving himself away; knew that Emma would find his uncharacteristic nervousness suspicious, but he couldn’t help it. He hated lying. He just wasn’t good at it, and the longer a lie lasted, the heavier it felt on his heart.

Especially when he was lying to the woman he loved.

And… oh… Jiminy Cricket, did he love her! He just hadn’t realized how much until he’d seen her emerge from the burning police station. He’d been well aware of his feelings of admiration and respect, but the love…well…that one had been a surprise.

Shaking his head at his own ridiculousness, he glanced at Emma from the corner of his eye, and his breath caught. Even upset and tired she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He wanted to comfort her, but his guilt stood between them. Not to mention Emma’s own feelings. She only saw him as a friend. He had to keep reminding himself of that. He refused to be a yearning fool in her presence.

He did have a modicum of self respect.

Emma pressed her hands against her face, watching Archie pace from between her fingers, and trying not to cry. Her head throbbed, the pain medication they gave her doing nothing against the persistent pounding. Dr. Whale said she didn’t have a concussion but he’d admitted her for observation. Even the scuffs on her arms and hands weren’t that bad. She’d been lucky, and had felt lucky, until it became clear Henry was missing.

He wasn’t at school, the diner, or his castle. They thought maybe he went to visit Belle, but nobody was at the pawnshop or the library. Both buildings were completely locked, shutters drawn. It was a strange coincidence, one that alarmed Emma, but she wasn’t sure if they were connected. Regina had decided to comb the town with David, while Robin and Little John hunted the forest. Hook had volunteered to take his ship to see if Henry was somewhere along the coast, and Snow had elected to stay at the school in case he tried to sneak back in. Meanwhile, Emma thought Archie might be able to narrow down his location.

She felt so guilty for not noticing he was missing, but her injuries had distracted her from his absence. She had assumed he was safe with Regina, it was her week, and then of course he would go to school. Regina had agreed not to tell Henry about her injuries until after he came home, neither mother wanting to disrupt his sleep or make him worry. Still, she’d been surprised when he hadn’t shown up. The boy heard about everything that happened in Storybrooke and the police station had burned to the ground. It should have been all over town.

Was Henry upset with her for not telling him? Was that why they couldn’t find him?

But now that she was in Archie’s office, something felt off. Her stomach was twisting, usually an indication that someone she cared about was lying to her. Every strange interaction she’d been having with Archie passed through her mind, and she felt her heart crack. He was the one person she trusted never to lie. To find out he wasn’t infallible made Emma’s chest tighten. Her panic stirred as she forced herself to remain calm. She was one panic attack away from breaking down.

If she couldn’t trust Archie, who could she trust?

“What do you know?” Emma asked, her voice shaking. Archie froze, his face filled with trepidation.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Archie guardely replied.

Rage erupted inside Emma as she sprang to her feet, her head throbbing.

“Yes you do, Cricket….” Emma snapped.

“Do NOT call me that.” Archie commanded as he interrupted her, his blue eyes flashing as he pivoted in her direction. He knew she was hurt and worried, but he would not be disrespected in such a manner. Not even by her.

Emma swallowed, she'd seen Archie angrier more this past week than she ever had and it all seemed to be directed at her. She liked to think she knew him, that she could see him for who he was. She knew he was kind, loyal, and brave. He obviously cared for his patients and wanted to do what he could to help others. He valued truth above all else and wasn’t afraid to withstand torture. But she never thought he could ever be sneaky or secretive. That he was capable of holding a grudge.

Which she knew wasn't fair. Everyone got upset and kept secrets, but she’d put him on a pestle, without ever knowing what she’d done, and refused to really see him. Even though there were times that she couldn't help but admire him.

Against her will, she’d noticed how his big blue eyes made her heart melt. His smile was always warm and inviting and it would lift her spirits no matter how hard her day had been. His hands were soft and his hair was almost absurdly red; making his fair skin glow. Most of the time, he was happy, but every now and then, she’d see him ache with loneliness. It hurt Emma to see it.

“Sorry...” Emma began, her voice tight, but Archie cut her off.

“I’m concerned for you Emma.” Archie began, his face grave, “You are not acting like yourself anymore.”

“My kid is missing Archie. I don't have time for this!”

“Maybe he wouldn't be missing if you paid the slightest bit of attention to him!” Archie shouted, throwing his hands up in the air, frustrated that Emma refused to hear him, “Instead of following your pirate around like a lovesick puppy!”

“Do you blame me for this?” Emma asked, her voice breaking as she sprang to her feet, “Aren't I allowed to have a life?”

“It’s not like Henry isn’t prone to running away, is he?” Archie shouted, ignoring her, “It was how you came to be here, wasn’t it? He was unhappy with Regina so he went to get you. Now…well… with the both of you ignoring him….”

Emma followed his line of of thinking to the logical source, “Rumple-fucking -tiltskin.”

Archie clamped his mouth shut, refusing to look away, frustrated that he had let the truth slip. Just like Cogsworth thought he would.

Damn it.

“Archie…” Emma growled, as she headed toward the door, “Are you telling me Henry left Storybrooke?”

“Emma stop!” Archie yelled as he followed her.

She ignored him as she hurried down the staircase, Archie close on her heels.

“Emma!” Archie cried as he followed her through the small foyer and out the door. He wanted to reach out and grab her, but was afraid he would hurt her, “Let me explain!”

“I know everything I need to!” Emma shouted over her shoulder, before stomping toward her yellow bug.

Breathing heavily, Archie paused, watching the distance between them grow. He wasn’t made for mad dashes down stairs anymore. He was long past his carnie days, and despite his frequent walks with Pongo, his stamina wasn’t the same.

“I’m going to call my son! He will tell me exactly where he is and then I’ll go and get him!”

“You can’t drive there, Emma!” Archie shouted, making her pause mid stride. She turned toward him and glared, “What do you mean?”

“He isn’t in the United States.” Archie hissed as he stepped toward her, glancing around to see if they were making a scene. Regina couldn’t know where they were, Henry would never trust him again.

“What do you mean, Archie?” Emma asked, horrified, “Where did Rumpelstiltskin take him…and why did you allow it? If he hurts him….”

“ Rumpelstiltskin would never hurt his own grandson.”

“He killed his own wife!” Emma shouted, “He tried to stuff me in a hat! He let his own son drop into a magical portal to another world! You’re deluded if you think Henry is safe with that monster!”

Archie didn’t say anything, stunned by Emma’s outburst. While everything she said was true, there was so much she was leaving out. Things that he knew, that maybe she didn’t. He was about to say as much when something dark flickered across the horizon, distracting him.

Emma snarled and stomped her foot, “Archie! Are you even listening to me?”

“I am.” Archie absently replied as the trees along the street began to bend and sway with the sudden wind, casting eerie shadows against the walls of the surrounding buildings.

Was there supposed to be a storm?

“The fuck Archie!” Emma screamed shrilly, noticing how distracted he was, “What the actual fuck? Where is my son?”

“Come inside and we will discuss this….” Archie replied, trying to keep his voice even, but he trailed off, his face turning as pale as paper.

The dark smudge on the horizon was rapidly approaching, morphing into an immense storm cloud. It spanned the entire horizon, blocking the sun, bringing nothing but an inky blackness with it. He felt his skin crawl as he watched lighting crack across the surface.

“Emma, are you doing that?” Archie asked, his voice surprisingly calm. He knew she was having trouble with her magic….

Emma frowned and looked over her shoulder, her eyes widening as she turned and walked backward toward Archie.

“No,” Emma said, as her shoulder brushed his, “No, I’m not.”

“Who then?” Archie wondered as he took Emma’s hand and dragged her back inside his office. It reminded him of the purple cloud that had overtaken Storybrooke after the Dark Curse had been lifted. The one Rumpelstiltskin had unleashed to bring magic back to the land.

“Fucking Rumpelstiltskin probably.” Emma replied as she let Archie drag her back inside, her eyes still locked on the fast approaching cloud. He slammed the door behind them, firmly locking it, before pushing Emma against the far wall, shielding her as best he could. There were no windows in the foyer, just a sideboard, staircase, and an increasingly rickety elevator. It had more in common with a stairwell than a foyer, but Archie tried to make it welcoming. Emma pushed against him, refusing his protection, when he wrapped his arms around her shoulders to keep her still.

“Rumpelstiltskin's not here, Emma.” Archie urgently whispered into her ear, “And neither is Henry. He’s safe. I swear it.”

“If it's not Gold, then who?” Emma snapped but Archie was at a loss.

Overwhelmed and needing space, she pushed him off her, but Archie refused to take more than a few steps back. Her furious green eyes locked onto his blue ones and her anger stuttered to a stop.

There was heat in his eyes, a hunger she’d never seen from him before. Her mouth dried, her heart hammered in her chest, and she forgot how to breathe. She watched spellbound, as his eyes traced the contours of her face, before settling on her lips. Unconsciously, he licked his own, leaning forward as if in a trance. Her head spinning, Emma breathed deeply trying to calm her tumbling emotions, when she caught his scent. He smelled like freshly mowed grass and rainy mornings. Entranced, she leaned forward, biting her lip in anticipation.

Archie gulped, shocked by Emma’s reaction. He knew he wasn’t hiding his feelings for her very well. Being confined in the small foyer, alone with her, was just too much for him to bear. Yet, he never could conceive of her responding like this. He always assumed that if she discovered his feelings, she would be embarrassed for him. He knew he wasn’t the type of man she normally found attractive. His hair was too red, his skin was too pale, and his eyes were too blue. He was nothing like the tall, dark, and handsome men she normally gravitated toward. Yet, her proximity made him forget who he was, where they were, and what was happening around them. His world narrowed and Emma was all he could see; all he wanted. If she would let him, he would spend his entire life trying to make her happy.

“Emma,” Archie breathed, leaning forward, his body shaking with desire. He was a second away from begging her to be his, to choose him, when the building began to shake as the dark cloud engulfed Storybrooke. Suddenly, he felt woozy and nauseous, his memories pouring out of him. Desperately, he wrapped his arms around her, not wanting to forget.

“Archie….” Emma whispered, her voice needy and faint against the shrieking of the wind. She felt fuzzy, as if everything that made her unique was bleeding out of her. She wrapped her arms around his waist, already forgetting why they were standing in the foyer.

Pulling back slightly, he glanced down at her. Her eyes were glassy, her lips so red they stood out garishly against her skin. Yet, if he had to forget, he’d do so with her taste on his lips.

Capturing her mouth in a fierce kiss, he felt weightless for a moment, before his mind sharpened and his memories flooded back into him. She tasted like chocolate and cinnamon and Archie knew he could never taste either again without thinking of her. At that moment, he was lost. He’d forever be hers. Even if she never wanted him again.

Emma’s memories flooded back into her mind as soon as Archie’s lips touched hers. She felt an electric spark travel through her, goosebumps erupting along her arms. Her toes curled and her heart began to beat wildly in her chest. Her hands fluttered along his shoulders before settling into his bright red hair; tugging him closer. Her eyes fluttered shut as she drank him in. She’s never wanted someone like this before. She craved him, ached for him, and they were only kissing.

Crashing against the wall, Archie cradled Emma’s head, mindful of her injuries. They could feel the building shake,like it was trying to tear itself free from its very foundations, yet neither cared. Emma’s fingers were wound in Archie’s hair as he gripped her hips, pulling her tightly against him. Her bluejeans brushed against his throbbing cock and Archie’s mind froze for an instant, fire sweeping through him as he deepened their kiss.

Sliding his hands from her hips to her bottom, he cupped her backside, tugging upwards urgently. Understanding his intent, Emma unwound her fingers from his hair and wrapped her arms around his neck, only slightly wincing when she put pressure on her scrapes. He squatted, placing his arms around her lower back and Emma pulled herself up, wrapping her legs around his waist. He pinned her against the wall, never once breaking their burning kiss.

His heart was beating wildly, his own conscience screaming at him to stop; that she was vulnerable, hurt, and with someone else, but for once he ignored his better angels. He was ruthless in his need, kissing her hard enough to bruise. Now that he knew what she finally tasted like, he couldn’t get enough of her. She smelled like leather and cherry blossoms. She felt like everything he’d ever wanted. He knew he needed to be gentle, she had a head injury for Cricket’s sake, but his desire for her could not be quenched.

The building slowly ceased shaking, tremors still echoing through its foundations as Archie’s hands tightened against her ass, making Emma shiver. She cradled Archie’s face as she nipped his bottom lip. He moaned, a deep guttural whimper that pierced Emma’s core. In the past, her lovers would whisper to themselves or yell encouragement to her, but none would allow themselves to be vulnerable enough to moan.

But Archie was different, he was lost in her. He was drinking her in; touching her wildly, desperately, and Emma felt herself grow slick with desire.

“Archie.” Emma moaned against his mouth, surprised when he pulled her from the wall. She felt unsteady for a moment before she leaned forward against him, excited by how easily he lifted her. Then she felt wood against her ass as he sat her on the sideboard near the staircase.

“Off,” Archie groaned, as he tugged at her coat. He wanted to feel her skin against his fingertips.

Emma yanked it off, Archie helping when it snagged on her elbow. She vaguely noticed the building had stopped shaking and a part of her knew she should go investigate. She was the Savior after all. But then her mind stuttered to a stop as Archie cupped her breast through the thin material of her shirt. She froze and Archie paused, a worried look in his eyes.

“Is this all right?” Archie whispered, his voice dripping with anxiety. He still held her breast in his hand, too concerned to move.

“ Don’t stop.” Emma breathed, her eyes locking on his.

Encouraged by her words, Archie kissed her again, his fingers tentatively kneading her breast as his other hand dipped under her shirt, trailing his fingertips across her lower back. His touch was unpracticed, unsure, but it thrilled her. Thinking of all she could teach him, she moaned louder than she normally would have.

“Oh, Emma…” Archie muttered, his fingers growing confident as his thumb lightly ground into her nipple, his nails gently trailing across her back, sending shivers up her spine.

“Archie…” Emma groaned as she began tugging at his coat. Reluctantly he pulled his hands away and hurriedly ripped it off.

“The vest too,” Emma commanded, unbuttoning it as she trailed kisses along his jaw. He was freshly shaven and Emma liked the smoothness against her lips, the smell of his aftershave ticking her nose.

“Yes..yes..” Archie breathed, as Emma unbuttoned his vest. He shrugged it off as Emma worked on his tie, throwing it on the floor with the rest of his clothes.

“Emma….?” Archie groaned as his hands slid up her thighs, toward her waist. His eyes flashed with desire despite his hesitation.

“Yes….?” Emma asked as she began working on the buttons of his long sleeve shirt. He wore too many clothes, but she was determined to get them off. She wanted to see him, to feel his skin.

“We…what…?” Archie tried to say, his glasses were fogged, his mind was fuzzy from desire, and all he wanted was Emma. He couldn’t think, but he knew…knew that they couldn’t make love in the foyer.

“We…can’t…” Archie said as she finished unbuttoning his shirt, her hands sliding over his abdomen.

“Another shirt?” Emma growled, looking at Archie in disbelief, “How many layers do you wear?”

He chuckled, pressing his forehead against hers, nuzzling her nose with his own.

“That’s the last one, dear.” Archie said and Emma felt her heart clench. The breath was knocked out of her and her mind went completely blank. The way he’d say that, good grief there was so much love there.

Did Archie love her? Did she love him? Was that why she wanted to wind herself around him like a vine and never let him go? Was that why she couldn’t help searching him out whenever she heard his voice. Was that why they hadn’t lost their memories? Without letting herself realize, she had inadvertently fallen for him. The kind, sweet, bumbling, brave man that was the antithesis of her current partner. Of herself.

“Oh god Killian,” Emma thought before the pirate was wiped completely from her mind as Archie kissed her again. It was tender and unhurried, intimate in a way that their first kiss hadn’t been. Emma felt like Archie was trying to touch her very soul. Tears pricked the corner of her eyes, spilling down her cheeks as she tenderly kissed Archie back.

She’d never been kissed like this before.

“Emma?” Archie asked, as he pulled back slightly, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Emma whispered, tears in her voice, “No Archie, you’ve done everything right.”

“Then why…?” Archie tried to ask, but Emma caught his lips in another soul searing kiss. Her very bones begging for him as her pussy throbbed.

“Pants Archie,” Emma whispered against his lips, “Remove them.

“Emma…” Archie whispered, “Not here.”

“Please…” Emma begged and she never begged. She refused to beg, if a man said no then it was no, but oh god she needed him so badly, despite her throbbing head.

Archie groaned before he grabbed her legs and wrapped them around his waist: Emma tightening them around him. She then wrapped her arms around his neck and Archie picked her up again. He stumbled toward the elevator and punched the button, his hand steadying her as she swayed slightly.

“Archie, I can walk,” Emma said as he trailed kisses along her jaw and down her neck. Emma growled as he sucked on her pulse point and Archie was so distracted he almost didn't hear the ding of the elevator doors.

Stepping inside he pinned her against the wall, punching the button for his floor, before he began nibbling on her collarbone. She gasped as she clutched the back of his head.

Chuckling he whispered, “You like that?”

“Yes….” Emma moaned as she kissed his cheek and jaw, desperate to kiss some part of him.

Archie peppered kisses across the hollow of her throat. He desperately wanted to kiss her breasts, to suck her tits, but her t-shirt was in the way.

“You feel so good,” Archie muttered, as the elevator doors opened again. He stumbled out of the elevator, his arms burning, unsure if he could make it the last few steps to his door.

“Archie, sit me down now.” Emma urged, but he just shook his head, nipping her chin with a mischievous grin. He was determined to sweep her off her feet.

“Just open the door for me,” Archie mumbled. Emma laughed, a joyful sound that pierced Archie’s heart, before she reached behind them and opened the door. Stumbling the last few steps, he gently sat her on the couch, and kicked the door shut.

“Lock it, Archie.” Emma said, her voice turning husky with anticipation.

His eyes never strayed from Emma’s as he backed up, reached for the door, and locked it. The shades of the office were drawn, hiding them from nosey neighbors, giving Archie time to appreciate the vision before him. Emma’s hair was wild, her eyes glassy. Her lips were red and bruised from their kisses and her clothes were rumpled. He gazed at her intently as she pulled her t-shirt over her head, dropping it to the floor, exposing her breasts.

Mouth dry, Archie watched as she stood, slowly unzipping her jeans. He drank her in as she teasingly pushed her pants down and kicked them away, along with her shoes. Archie’s mouth dried as he stared at Emma, standing before him in nothing but a plain white bra and underwear. She was a bit battered, there was a scrape on her arm and a few on her knees, and her hands looked raw. He knew he should stop what they were doing. That he should talk reasonably with her, and yet his desire for her won over his good sense.

Closing the distance between them, he kissed her like he was starving. Reaching behind her, he fumbled with her bra clasp before finally succeeding in yanking it off with her help. Pulling back, he glanced at her breasts, and licked his lips in anticipation. Cupping them, he found they were the perfect size for his hands, and he groaned as he watched his thumbs brush against her nipples.

Emma was so perfect.

“Archie,” Emma moaned as she arched into his hands. Encouraged, he bent forward, taking one nipple into his mouth. Experimentally he twirled his tongue around it, before sucking hard.

“Archie!” Emma yelped, her legs turning into jelly as she grasped his shoulders for support.

Wrapping his arms around her, he led her to the couch, and leaned her against the arm. Emma gripped the material to keep her balance as Archie kneeled in front of her. Slowly he peeled her underwear off, gently kissing the scrapes on her knees, before slowly kissing her thighs. Emma moaned, widening her legs for him, when he abruptly stood; guiding one of Emma’s legs over his shoulder, while the other wound around his waist. He bent her knee forward as far as he could, before taking her breast into his mouth again, exposing her wet pussy to his curious fingers.

“Oh, Archie,” Emma moaned, knowing this angle would feel wonderful if she could just get him to fuck her, “Please ... .I need ... your cock.”

Archie ignored her pleas as he teased her breasts with his tongue. He enjoyed the way they felt in his mouth; liked the way her skin tasted. Her chest felt warm against his face and the scent of her arousal made him giddy with need. His fingers gently stroked her, taking their time to grow familiar with her wet pussy.

“Archie!” Emma shrieked when his thumb lightly grazed her clit. Grinning, Archie sucked hard on her nipple as he gently ground his thumb into her clit. She shrieked unintelligibly as she orgasmed.

His mouth made a popping sound as he let go of her nipple, making Emma groan. Sliding to his knees, he began kissing her stomach, determined to taste her orgasm on his tongue.

“Archie please.” Emma moaned as she tugged at his hair, “I need your cock.”

“But I want to taste you.” Archie whispered, his voice husky as he spread her legs wider, almost uncomfortably so.

“Next time Archie,” Emma whispered, tugging at his hair again, “Next time, I promise, but please I can’t possibly get any wetter.”

Lightly nipping her belly, Archie trailed his tongue upward before sucking her breasts again, her nipples sensitive from his previous attentions. Throwing her head back, Emma cried out, her pussing wet and throbbing despite her orgasm.

“Please Archie,” Emma pleaded. She needed to feel him. Had to know what he felt like. She couldn't wait much longer.

Huffing, he gave in and stood, fumbling with the buttons of his pants, suddenly nervous. Emma reached out to help, indicating he should work on his shirts. Pulling them off, he threw them on the floor, as Emma pushed his pants and boxers down.

“Emma,” Archie began, uncertain in her expectations as he kicked his shoes and pants away. He was rather aware that he was unlike her other lovers. He was pale and freckled and not the least bit muscular, but Emma just grinned at him as she reached out and grasped his cock.

He shuddered in her hands, moaning as she firmly gripped him. Slowly, she began to move her hand up and down, stoking him. Archie’s legs began to tremble.

“Emma,” Archie growled, “You do much more of that and I….”

But then his brain froze as Emma leaned forward and took his cock in her mouth. He swallowed as his eyes fluttered, his pleasure building as Emma’s tongue swirled around the tip before slowly taking in his length. He wasn’t an abnormal size, though neither was he small, and Emma found it only marginally difficult to take his entire cock in her mouth.

“Oh….” Archie loudly groaned, grabbing her hair as he felt her warm, wet mouth sucking him. As Archie watched, she slowly began rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, sending waves of pleasure through him.

“Emma,” Archie exhaled, his legs weakening, and he feared he was too close to his peak. Tugging at her hair, Emma stopped and frowned at him.

“If you want to do more than this,” Archie growled, his breathing ragged, “You're going to have to stop.”

“Alright,” Emma replied, her voice low and sultry. Licking his length, she leaned back on the arm of the couch and opened her legs for him.

His patience snapping, Archie launched forward, throwing one leg over his shoulder as she wrapped the other around his waist. He brushed his hard cock against her wet pussy; making them both scream in pleasure. Archie eased himself inside her, teasing her with the tip of his cock. He had no idea if she would like it, but when she whined and bucked against him, he gripped her leg and plunged inside her, eliciting a groan from Emma.

He stood there for a moment staring into her lust filled eyes, before slowly thrusting. He was not nearly as practiced as he knew she was used to, but she began moaning his name all the same. Her hips bucked, encouraging him to move faster, and Archie began thrusting in and out finding a pace that pleased them both. It took all his concentration for his legs not to buckle. The angle was awkward, but Emma’s mewls of pleasure seemed to indicate she enjoyed it.

As her pussy tightened around him with every thrust, he felt his pleasure build. Refusing to cum before her, he reached between them and began rubbing his fingers against her clit in the way she liked.

“Archie….” Emma yelled as she tightened her leg around his waist. Her pussy clenched around his cock, making her eyes roll into the back of her head while her body shuddered as she arched into him. Pulling out, Archie spilled his seed against her leg, his body shuddering from his own orgasm as he suddenly felt light headed.

Panting, he leaned on Emma, their breathing heavy in the aftermath of their lovemaking. Blinking rapidly, Archie swallowed, and abruptly pulled away. He had just made love to the woman of his dreams! In his office! While the town was being cursed! Without even a date!

“What kind of cretin am I?” Archie hysterically thought.

Emma watched remorse flicker across his face, followed closely by panic, and her heart broke. She felt foolish for thinking this was more than a good fuck. Hiding her face from him, she reached for her bra, when Archie stopped her. Cupping her cheek, he gently kissed her eyes, her lips, her forehead, her bruised temple, and chin before he captured her lips in another deep and bruising kiss. He knew she saw his panic, but he couldn’t let her think it was because of her. While he was ashamed of his own actions, he could never regret what they just shared.

Emma bit back a groan. She needed more of him. If he was going to walk away and regret her, then she was damn sure going to get her fill of him first. Pushing him off her, Archie flinched as he sat on the couch, eyes glued to the floor in shame. Standing, she took his chin in her palm, and made him look at her.

“Emma?” Archie asked, his voice shaking, he was certain she was going to break his heart. Staring intently at him, she stroked his jaw, before straddling him. His eyes widened as he placed his hands on her hips, almost reverently.

“Emma we just….” Archie began, his head swimming with a need he was sure his body couldn’t fulfill, “I’m not going to become aroused so quickly after.”

Yet, his fingertips trailed down her bare back, prompting Emma to slowly, teasingly grind against him.

“Then touch me, Archie,” Emma muttered. Leaning forward, she huskily whispered into his ear, “I know you want to, my bad little cricket.”

Archie gripped her hips, her suggestive tone sending blood rushing straight to his cock. Groaning, he gripped her hips as he leaned forward, taking her nipple in his mouth and sucking hard. Her breasts were quickly becoming his favorite fixation. He loved how her nipples felt on his tongue, the swell of her breasts against his face, the taste of her skin. It was enough to make his cock harden despite his orgasm.

Emma moaned as Archie gripped her hips, keeping her in place to better suck her breasts. His hands slid downward, grasping her ass cheeks, and before he thought better of it, he lightly smacked them; sucking on her nipples at the same time. Emma’s hips bucked, causing Archie’s teeth to lightly graze her skin.

“Oh!” Emma shouted in surprised pleasure. She grinned down at him, his eyes intense as he gazed back, his tongue slowly twirling around her nipple. Deliberately, he reached behind her and smacked her ass again. Emma leaned her head back and moaned, closing her eyes, and allowing herself to just feel. In the past, spanking hadn’t turned her on, but seeing the normally straightlaced psychiatrist lose his reserve was almost enough to make her cum.

“I dont think I’ll ever get enough of you.” Archie moaned, as his fingers teased the nipple he’d been sucking on.

“No?” Emma asked, reaching in between their bodies to stroke his shaft. Archie moaned, his eyes feverish. “But you looked like you regretted it before. Do you regret it now Archie?

“Oh Emma.” Archie moaned as he threw his head back. His cock had hardened enough that she guided him back inside her. They both moaned as she took in his entire length, Archie leaning his head against the back of the couch. Slowly she began to ride him, letting the pleasure build between them. Archie devoured her with his eyes as she rode his cock; her eyes shut, her head thrown back in pleasure, her breasts bouncing enticingly in front of him.

“You….deserve….better….than..this.” Archie moaned as she began moving faster. She set the pace and he was powerless to stop her. He wanted to take his time with her, to let their pleasure build slowly, but Emma seemed to have other ideas. She was remorseless in her need, “You deserve romance.”

“I want this.” Emma moaned, gripping his shoulders as she felt her clit graze his stomach, heightening her pleasure, “I want you. Your….the best thing ... .. oh!”

She grinned down at him, cupping his face as she kissed him. Spots exploded behind her eyes as she orgasmed, her pussy milking him for every last bit of pleasure.

Archie groaned as he wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing her closer to him. Her pussy clenched tightly around his cock, making it impossible for him to pull out before he exploded inside of her.

“Emma…I’m sorry.” Archie began but she cut him off with a kiss. Their breathing ragged as their foreheads touched.

“Please tell me…” Archie began before biting his lip.

“What?” Emma asked, running her fingers through his sweaty hair. Fear spiked through her as she prepared for heartbreak.

“That….we…we are together.” Archie panted, “Please don’t…run away from me.”

Emma’s face softened, a relieved smile stretching across her face, “Oh, Archie.”

“I know…” Archie began cupping her face, “That I’m not the kind of man you usually go for…”

“I want you.” Emma replied, her voice strong, sure, “I’ve never felt like this before Archie. I feel so sure about you, about us.”

“I feel the same,” Archie whispered, his eyes sparkling, “ I don’t regret this Emma. I just wish ... .I could have romanced you…”

“I don’t care about that.” Emma replied, cupping his cheek, “ I just want you to…..”

“Care?” Archie finished for her when it became apparent she couldn’t continue, “because I do….care for you that is. You and Henry both.”

Emma froze, her eyes widening. Henry!

Scrambling off Archie’s lap, she started grabbing at her clothes, “I have to find Henry!”

“He’s in England.” Archie said, his voice strong. He gently grabbed her wrist to stop her, pulling her onto his lap, “He’s safe.”

“In England?” Emma asked in a loud, high voice. She tried to stand again, but Archie held her in place, “He got on a plane by himself?”

“No,” Archie replied, as he kissed her forehead, trying to sooth her, “Rumpelstiltskin and Harriet picked him up.”

“How did they get him on a plane without a passport?” Emma asked, worriedly, “They kidnapped my kid….and wait….whose Harriet?”

Archie sighed, realizing she was too scared to be soothed without more information. Both still completely naked, he wrapped her tightly in his arms, and explained what had recently happened with Henry.

“What?” Emma growled, her voice cold, “Regina was going to do, what?”

“That’s what Cogsworth said.”

“And you believe him?” Emma asked incredulously. Archie’s face darkened, his right eye twitching.

“Say what you want about your superpower,” Archie replied, his jaw clenched, “But I’m a conscious, Emma. Just because I don’t look like Jiminy Cricket anymore doesn’t mean I still don’t have the same powers.”

“Powers?” Emma whispered, realizing she’d made the same mistake with Archie that she had with Gold. She had underestimated him. Just because he appeared mild mannered and quiet, didn’t mean he still wasn’t the same person from the Enchanted Forest.

“I know when people are lying to me.” Archie replied, his eyes sad, “Or lying to themselves. It’s what makes me a great psychiatrist.”

“Oh …but you can turn it off? Right?”

“No.” Archie faintly replied, “You should know that before we….if you still want….to be with me…that is.”

Emma was speechless. Her “superpower” as she called it, was just a survival skill she’d learned growing up in foster care. One she was finding extremely difficult to use in Storybrooke, the Land of Half Truths and Secrets. Archie, however, really did have a superpower. One he couldn’t control.

“That must be hard.”

“It’s….not great.” Archie replied, swallowing his nervousness, “It can be rather overwhelming at times, but lying…well…people don’t always do it maliciously, Emma. Sometimes people are just unwilling to let others know their inner thoughts.”

He gazed at Emma intently, reaching out to outline her lips with his ring finger. Leaving her breathless, “People are not black and white, dear. I know you wish otherwise, but most people in this town are not purely good. Neither are they purely bad.”

Emma nodded, hearing the truth in his words. She hadn’t thought of it like that before, having dealt with a system that did nothing but lie and hurt the children it was supposed to protect. The nuance between light and dark had been lost on her long ago.

“I want to talk to Henry,” Emma finally said, as she reached for her pants, but Archie stopped her, frustrating Emma.

“I need to tell you something first.”

“What?

Archie opened and closed his mouth several times before gathering his courage, “I’ve been working against you, Emma.”

“What do you mean?” Emma asked, shrinking away, Archie tightened his hold on her.

“Emma…this town is imploding, and you and Regina have been ignoring it.” Archie swallowed, “Ruby and I, with Michaels help, decided we would bring Rumpelstiltskin back.”

“Why him?” Emma asked, her voice faint. She always felt strange when the topic of Rumpelstiltskin came up, guarded and more vulnerable. It’d been that way since she’d broken the Dark Curse.

“He’s the only one dark enough to scare the heroes, but good enough to keep the villains in check.”

Emma didn’t say anything, mulling his words over. Now that she knew about Archie’s gift, she realized he truly believed whatever he told her, because it was simply the truth.

Finally she asked, “Do you really believe he’s good?”

“Not entirely.” Archie truthfully replied, “He has immense evil inside him Emma and it’s much darker than even he imagined.”

“Then why do you trust him?

“He has never lied to me. Not once.”

Emma sighed, “ Does he know about your power?”

“No. You're the only person I have ever told.”

Emma smiled softly. Leaning her forehead against his, she vowed, “And I won’t tell a soul.”

Archie smiled, hearing the truth in her words.

“I know.” Archie replied, his smile slipping as he continued, “There is more you should know about Rumpelstiltskin…and Henry’s parental side of the family.”

Emma felt dread pool into her chest, “What do you mean? We met Peter Pan.”

Archie sighed, leaning his head back slightly, and launched into a detailed explanation of the Darkness and what role Harriet Potter had waiting for her in Storybrooke.

“So your plan was to replace me?” Emma asked, her voice small.

“Yes.” Archie quietly replied, “At least, only if you refused to work with her.”

Emma sniffed, looking away in shame. She wanted to be angry, to feel betrayed, but the truth was…she was the one that betrayed him. Betrayed everyone that believed in her. She thought back to Grumpy and Nova’s problem, their issue with Blue, and she winced

“I’m sorry Archie.”

“Don’t be sorry dear.” Archie replied, kissing her forehead, “Help me, help Storybrooke. Be the Savior I know you can be.”

Emma sniffed, “You still believe in me?”

“I’ll always believe in you.”

Emma blinked, her heart clenching, before the dam holding her emotions back broke. She started sobbing, her shoulders shaking violently with the strength of her cries. She cried for the lost year and fake memories, she cried for the flying monkey she’d almost married. She cried for Neal and for Henry and Hook. She even cried for Gold. For the Darkness that he didn’t know he was responsible for and the son he lost. She cried and cried and when she couldn’t try anymore she whimpered quietly to herself.

Archie just held her, rocking her gently and humming lightly, trying to calm her. He hated seeing her in tears, but was so relieved she was finally allowing herself to feel. That she was no longer lying to herself.

“Can you forgive me Emma?”

“There is nothing to forgive.” Emma sniffed, “ You were only doing what you thought was right.”

“It killed me to side against you.”

“I’m glad you did.” Emma replied with a lopsided grin, “You've been angry with me and it’s driven me crazy. I couldn't stand it! I don't think I would have realized my feelings for you otherwise.”

Archie smiled, kissing her lightly on the lips, “Maybe I should be angry with you more often.”

Emma grinned, dropping her voice, as she nuzzled his nose, “ I do rather like my angry little cricket.”

Archie laughed, shaking his head at her ridiculous nickname for him, “We need to get dressed before we call Henry.”

Standing they began pulling on their clothes, Emma cleaning her leg with Archie’s white undershirt while Archie disappeared downstairs to grab their discarded clothes. He glanced around the foyer, surprised to see how mundane it looked. He never would have guessed this would be the place his life changed forever.

When he came back, Emma was frowning at her phone.

“What’s wrong dear?”

“Henry won’t answer.”

“Then call Rumpelstiltskin.” Archie replied, running his fingers through her hair to try and tame her wild locks. He looked at her untamed hair, bruised lips, and flushed cheeks and couldn’t help but thank that she looked utterly and completely beautiful. If anyone saw her, they would know immediately what they’d done. Archie was fine with that. He wasn’t a possessive man, but he wasn’t afraid to claim what was freely given.

Frowning, she glared at Rumple’s number before she took a deep breath and pressed send. She’d never deleted his number from her phone and Archie wondered at that. She obviously had complex feelings for Rumpelstiltskin, beside the general dislike he thought she held for the dark wizard.

Making sure to put the phone on speaker, it rang for a moment before they heard Rumpelstiltskin's lyrical voice say, “Ah…Sheriff Swan. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

“Cut the shit, Gold.” Emma snarled, her temper rising,“Where the fuck is my kid.”

Archie just sighed. This was going to be a difficult conversation.

Chapter Text

Grimmauld Place

Harriet stared at the dagger as the sounds in the kitchen fell away. The world seemed to shrink until the only thing that mattered was the cold weight of iron in her hand. In the back of her mind she heard soft, unintelligible whispers that soon became deafening the moment she focused on them. They urged her to use the dagger, coaxing her to take control, insisting that it was the only way to protect Rumpelstiltskin. The whispers spit and hissed, entreated and cajoled until she felt her own hand tighten on the dagger’s hilt, no longer entirely under her control. Grimly, she clenched her teeth as she wrestled her consciousness away from the daggers compulsion.

Desperately, she latched onto Rumple’s melodic voice. She needed an anchor, needed him. Yet the voice she heard was that of a stranger; no warmth, only slyness; no sincerity, only scorn. Unawares and unprepared, she was once again introduced to one of the many versions of Rumpelstiltskin.

She was uncomfortably annoyed by it.

Her right eye began to twitch as her annoyance quickly turned to anger. Refusing to allow the dagger to manipulate her emotions, she pushed her feelings to the back of her mind, forcing herself to look at her current predicament objectively. The whispers finally lessened, then quieted.

The fucking dagger was insidious.

Much like Slytherin's locket, the dagger prayed on a person’s insecurities. Belle had been unsure about her relationship with Rumpelstiltskin, and it eventually warped her love for him. Henry was afraid he couldn’t protect Rumple, and it outright attacked him. Now that she knew what it was, she understood it. She was a fool for not seeing it sooner.

It was a fucking horcrux.

Harriet’s gaze swept across the kitchen, as her attention returned to her surroundings. Severus was studying her, his gaze shifting between her and the dagger. In the back, Rumple paced agitatedly, gesturing wildly as he loudly argued with Emma. Henry looked worried, his eyes never leaving his grandpapa while Teddy watched Rumple warily. Ron and Hermione exchanged uneasy glances and Remus stood awkwardly at the door; his attention split between Harriet and Teddy.

“What?” Harriet croaked, “What’s wrong?”

“Are you alright?” Hermione asked, her eyes shining with concern.

“No,” Harry replied, her voice thick. Rumple turned, his eyes locking with Harriet’s, and he stumbled over his own feet as he came to an abrupt stop.

“Emma.” Rumple urgently said, his anger shifting into concern, “I have to go. Henry is fine. We’ll look for Lilith, just figure out who cursed Storybrooke!”

Without saying good-bye, he hung up, “What’s wrong Beauty?”

“Did you know this was a horcrux?” Harriet asked, gesturing with the dagger.

“What?” Rumple muttered, his face turning pale as his eyes shifted between her and the blade in her hand.

“It’s a horcrux.” Harriet repeated, her voice stronger than before.

“I …” Rumple trailed off, shocked; although he was uncertain why. It made a sick sort of sense that the very thing that had turned him into a monster was now controlling him. Still, he always saw the dagger as something other, something foreign that he could rid himself of.

Not a piece of himself.

Shaking his head, he focused his attention back to the dagger. He felt the compulsion to snatch it out of her hand, but he wasn’t sure if it was the dagger’s influence or his own desires. Yet now that he knew who he was, and what the dagger truly was, wasn’t it both?

He was the Dark One….he was the Darkness…he was the Dagger.

Rumple’s stomach rolled, and he clenched his teeth to keep from being sick. He refused to be humiliated in such a way; refused to allow the others to see how rattled he truly was. Swallowing, he forced himself to focus on Harriet, who was staring at the dagger in distrust.

“What do you want me to do with this thing?” Harriet asked, disgustedly.

Rumple opened and closed his mouth. She was the Guardian. The dagger wasn’t supposed to affect her. Yet, somehow, it did. But how? She was safe from him and the Darkness, but not the dagger? It didn’t make sense.

“Is it hurting you?” Rumple asked, quickly walking around the table.

Henry looked worriedly between his grandpapa and Harriet; fear etched across his face. Teddy came over to him, bumping his shoulder, trying to get the other boy’s attention; his worry obvious.

Looking at the dagger, Harriet tenderly traced Rumpelstiltskin’s name, “Not any more. I think…I think I resisted it.” Quietly, she said, “This dagger exudes malice.”

“And yet, you seem fine.”

“I’m not.” Harriet suddenly snapped, her eyes flaring in anger. Swallowing, she took a deep breath and glared at the dagger, “I’m just better at ignoring it then most.”

“She was like that with your other horcruxes.” Ron said uncomfortably, “It affected her at first, but over time, it lessened.” Ron paused and glanced sourly at the dagger, “ It was the opposite for Hermione and I.”

“ Harry was much more temperamental though.” Hermione said, her voice thoughtful, “but she was much better at dealing with the locket’s dark influence.”

Rumple looked worriedly at Harriet, who was staring at the dagger, her mind deep in thought. Why was the dagger dangerous to her? When Rumple and the Darkness were not?

“We need to get into Storybrooke.” Harriet resolved, “It’s the only place we can find answers.”

The kitchen fell into a contemplative hush, everyone lost in their own thoughts, while Henry and Teddy took the opportunity to sneak out of the kitchen and into the backyard. Teddy had a thousand and one questions and it didn’t look as if any of the adults would be able to explain.

Remus watched in displeasure as his son left, not wanting him to become mixed up in anything that involved the Dark Lord. And that included Henry. Yet, he couldn't very well keep Teddy away from Harriet. Rumplestilskin was now permanently in both their lives. Remus balked at that, disgusted at the idea of having his son near the monster responsible for his wife’s death.

“Emma, Henry’s mother, was attacked.” Rumple said suddenly, breaking the silence, “ She knew her.”

“I thought it was a dragon?” Harried frowned.

“She’s a dragon shifter.” Rumple replied, “A rare type of witch in the Enchanted Forest.”

“Does she have a name?” Hermione asked, her eyes sparkling as she bolted to her feet, “I’ll run upstairs and grab my laptop. If there’s a name, I can find her.”

“Lilith Page.”

Hermione scurried out of the kitchen, Rumple watching her leave in confusion.

Chuckling Harriet said, “Hermione is quite adept with computers. She monitors a team of hackers that routinely scrub the magical world’s presence off the internet.”

Rumple blinked, “That's a peculiar job for a witch.”

“But a much needed one in this age of technology.” Severus sourly replied.

Glancing between Harriet and Rumple he cleared his throat awkwardly, “Now, if you will excuse me, I must tell Albus of these new…developments.”

Harriet watched him hurry toward the door, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. He’d almost crossed the threshold into the hallway when she called after him, “Take Remus with you, Severus. I’m sure you're going to need the backup when you arrive at Malfoy Manor.”

Severus paused at the door. His face impassive as he turned and carefully asked, “Excuse me?”

“You can send Albus a message with your patronus.” Harriet cooly replied “It’s not exactly vital information that Rumple and I are together.”

Pausing, she cocked her head and smirked, “The only reason you would leave is if you wanted to look for Draco by yourself.”

Rumple stood silently beside her, quietly impressed with her dedication skills. His finger lightly traced the back of her hand. Harriet’s mouth quivered slightly as she suppressed a smile.

“And why would I…” Severus sneered.

Harriet cut him off with a snort, “For the same reason you took the unbreakable vow. You care for him. You always have.”

Severus didn’t say anything, his face unreadable as Harriet took a step towards him, “I understand you want to keep Draco safe. That you’re worried about him, but Severus….he’s attacking children. We need to understand what’s going on.”

“And if I bring him here?” Severus asked, his tone dark, “Will you give me your word that he won’t be harmed.”

“What just a damn minute!” Ron yelled at the same time Remus growled, “Severus! He attacked Teddy!”

“I do.” Harry replied, her voice ringing above the din.

Ron and Remus stared at Harry in disbelief.

“Harry…” Ron began, his voice shaking, “He sent Macnair to hurt Rose.”

“Teddy is your son!” Remus growled, “In everything but name!”

“Draco isn’t himself.” Harry confidently replied, glancing at each man, “The Draco I knew before he left for America was kinder, calmer, and more thoughtful than he’d ever been.”

Remus snorted, “What is it with you and dark wizards? Just because you were fucking the boy….”

Harriet sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes against her irritation. Rumple clenched his fists, glaring daggers at the werewolf. He understood that it wasn’t his fight, that Harriet could take care of herself, but if Remus didn’t stop acting like a jealous ex-boyfriend he was going to rip him apart.

“I was not in a relationship with Draco Malfoy, Remus.” Harriet replied, her voice suspiciously calm, “He was ostracized and needed a friend.”

Remus just crossed his arms, his face unreadable. Harriet rolled her eyes.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m not.” Remus tightly replied, “You seem to have a fondness for dark wizards as of late.”

“Just because Rumple and I…” Harriet began but Remus cut her off.

“And Draco. And Severus.”

“Do not bring me into your jealous drivel.” Severus drawled, “Potter and I are colleagues.”

“That’s his fancy way of saying friends.” Harriet dryly replied.

Severus half heartedly glared at her, while Remus tightened his arms across his chest, clearly not appreciating her humor.

“Look.” Harriet sighed when nobody else seemed inclined to speak, “I think we should give Draco a chance to explain what’s going on. What if something is actually wrong with him?”

Ron stared at Harriet, his lips pursed. Finally he relented, “Fine. But one wrong move and he’s toast.”

Looking at Severus, she said, "Please bring him back here.”

“As my lady commands.” Severus sneered, realizing that Harriet’s tone brooked no argument. She was taking command, unsurprising given her years as an auror, yet it caught him off guard.

“And take Remus with you.”

Severus clenched his teeth, wanting to argue but knowing it would do no good. Harriet clearly did not want to spend her time dealing with the werewolf’s jealousy. Not that he could blame her.

“Come along wolf.”

“Teddy….” Remus began but Ron said, “I’ll look after him for you.”

Remus nodded, realizing he had no choice. Refusing to acknowledge Harriet, he angrily stomped out of the kitchen and followed Severus out of Grimmauld Place. Harriet sighed in relief when she heard the front door slam shut.

“Mr. Weasley…” Rumple hesitantly asked, “Would you mind keeping an eye on Henry too? I need to speak with Harriet. Alone.”

Glancing suspiciously between the two, Ron said, “Of course. Go ahead. I’ll let the boys know I’m looking after them.”

Rumple nodded. Grateful for his assistance. Gently, he took Harriet by the elbow, guiding her out of the kitchen, down the dark hallway, and into the library. He tried to remember how the dagger had become a horcrux; tried to bring forth any memory of his time as the Darkness at all. But there was just an empty void where those memories should be.

It was unnerving.

Harriet felt a dull throb in the back of her mind. She watched Rumple from the corner of her eye as he frowned in concentration. Leading her into the library, he shut the door, locking it behind them, before turning toward her. She stood there, in the middle of the room, nervously fiddling with the dagger. She was leaning forward, her hair hiding her face. He pushed himself off the door, slowly making his way toward her. She bit her lip, her thoughts muddled by his mere proximity. Cupping her cheek, Rumple’s eyes sparked with pride as he pushed the hair from her face; placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

“I’m rather proud of you.”

“What…..why?” Harriet asked, distracted by Rumple’s cycling emotions; pride, appreciation, confusion, and need. It was a cacophony of feelings that she was struggling to ignore.

“Why?” Rumple asked, surprised. He caressed her cheek with his thumb as he smiled softly at her, “Because even with everything that you're going through, you’re still able to take charge. To push your feelings aside and do your duty. To think of others.”

“And that’s something to be proud of?”

“Of course. Selflessness always is.”

“There was a time when you saw my selflessness as a weakness.”

Rumple winced, yanking his hands back and turning his head away in shame. Harriet just sighed. She hadn't meant to hurt him, but every time she mentioned his past self it was like a dagger to his heart. She worried about the remorse that swam in his beautiful brown eyes, worried that his heart would give out underneath the weight of it. Yet, they couldn’t ignore their shared past. Not if they wanted a future.

“I still don’t know what to do with this thing.” Harriet said, gesturing with the dagger as she changed the subject. Rumple held his hand out, and without hesitation, she handed it back to him. Immediately she felt lighter.

“You really have no interest in controlling me, do you?” Rumple laughed, relieved.

“Of course not!” Harriet shuddered, “Why would I?’

Rumple’s face turned serious, contemplative, as he quietly whispered, “What have I done to deserve you?”

“Rum….” Harriet began, but she trailed off as Rumpelstiltskin placed his dagger on the table beside them and cupped her cheek, capturing her lips in a gentle kiss.

Harriet’s thoughts stuttered to a stop, her focus narrowing. The kiss was slow and languid; intimate. He tilted her head slightly, deepening their kiss. His hands shifted from her cheeks to her shoulders and then to her waist. He pulled her against him and Harriet groaned in response. Rumple took the opportunity to tease her tongue with his own, eliciting a whine from her that made his cock twitch in want. As he began to pull away, she slid her arms around his neck to keep him close.

“Rumple….” Harriet groaned, her half-lidded eyes glazed with want.

His gaze dropped to her lips, “We…we really need to focus on understanding the dagger…our connection….”

“Fuck that.” Harriet growled as she captured his lips in a searing kiss. He groaned, his hands instantly clutching at her hips before firmly cupping her ass. She grabbed the fabric of his unbuttoned overshirt and pulled him closer.

“Yes…” Harriet groaned as she felt him harden against her. One of her hands slid between them, cupping him through his jeans.

“Harriet.” Rumple growled, pulling back from their kiss. His hips bucked helpless against her hand.

“Yes?” Harriet grinned teasingly.

“Don’t….we….” Rumple eyes fluttered shut as Harriet firmly rubbed her hand against his growing bulge. She wanted him, more than she ever had Neville or Remus. She needed him to want her too.

“Yes?”

“Oh….don’t stop.” Rumple groaned, leaning his forehead against hers as he moved his hips against her hand. Harriet felt a rush of desire as she watched the emotions that crossed his face. With every quiet moan that escaped his lips, her pussy throbbed with want. Harriet leaned forward to kiss him when a knock resounded throughout the library.

“Harriet?” Hermione called, “Why is the door locked?”

They froze, their eyes widening. Clearing her throat, Harriet quickly pulled away and unlocked the door, “Yes Hermione?”

She took one look at Harriet’s rumpled state and Rumpelstiltskin’s turned back and rolled her eyes, “Come on…not right now…”

“Nothing’s happened.” Harriet quickly lied and Hermione narrowed her eyes in disbelief.

“Sure…”

“What do you need Mrs. Granger?” Rumple asked as he turned, despite knowing he was still clearly aroused. He forced his embarrassment to the back of his mind as he crossed his arms over his chest, as if to protect himself from her judgement.

Hermione’s eyebrows went up, as if to say “I told you so” before she asked, “Did Henry’s mother say anything else about her assailant?"

“Just the name.” Rumple replied, “And that she was adopted.”

Hermione nodded, deep in concentration as she used one arm to hold her laptop in place. Opening the lid, she turned on the machine, her face scrunched in thought. Clearing her throat she said “Ron told me that Professor Snape and Remus left to look for Draco.”

“Yes.” Harriet said carefully, "They're going to bring him back here.”

“The children shouldn’t be here then.” Hermione tightly replied, “In case he gets loose.”

“He won’t.” Rumple growled, “I promise you that.”

Hermione looked searchingly into Rumpelstiltskin's face, trying to gauge his honesty. Satisfied by what she saw she said, “I believe you.”

“There is something wrong with Draco, Monie.” Harriet said as Hermione nodded in agreement.

“I know. I remember how he was before he left. I’m just worried about the children. Teddy and Henry included.”

“So are we.” Harriet firmly replied, leaving Hermione no doubt as to where her loyalty lay.

Hermione nodded again, looking at her computer, “I’ll be in the kitchen should you need anything.”

“We’ll be in here for a while. Rumple and I are going to try Legilimency. We need to understand the dagger and our connection.”

Hermione frowned, “Do you think that’s important right now?”

“Yes.” Harriet replied, “Without question. This whole mess started around the same time our connection returned. That can’t be a conscience. It may be the key to our situation.”

Hermione sighed, suddenly worried for her friend, “Just be careful.”

“Of course.”

Hermione gave Harriet and Rumple a final, searching, disquieted look before leaving the library. Sighing in relief, Harriet shut the door and locked it, casting a silencing charm for privacy.

“We should get to work.” Rumple muttered, not looking Harriet in the eyes. He was still embarrassed at having been caught, like a randy teenager. He knew time was in short supply and yet his body still pulsed with want. His cock was still hard. One word from her and he would be lost. Forcing his desire to the back of his mind, he began pushing tables out of the way; needing a distraction.

Any distraction.

Harriet leaned against the door, appreciating how well he filled out his jeans. Her arms itched to hold him, her lips yearned to kiss him, and her core felt raw with want. She’d never felt like this before. It was as if their first kiss had opened the floodgates of desire. As if some part of her had finally been given permission to lust.

Swallowing, she licked her lips and tried to focus her racing thoughts. She knew they needed to understand what was happening to them. If she wanted more time with Rumplestilskin, she needed to focus her attention on the life and death situation they found themselves in.

Clearing his throat, Rumple said, “Please sit on the floor.”

“I don’t remember doing this with Severus.”

“What we’re going to do, is a bit ... .unorthodox. It might be safer if we were sitting on the floor, close to each other. ”

“You just want an excuse to be near me.” Harriet teased, shifting into a comfortable position.

“Maybe.” Rumple admitted as he sat across from her, wincing in pain as he crossed his legs; his knee popped rather loudly, “Hold your hands out.”

She did as he bid, biting her bottom lip as their fingers intertwined. She stared into Rumple’s eyes, “What now?”

“Relax and let me in.”

“And how do I do that?”

“Legilimens.”

Harriet froze as her mind was suddenly invaded. Every thought, every memory surged to the front of her mind. It was just like when Severus had tried teaching her Occlumency, except Rumple didn’t stop when she tried pushing him out.

As the memories cycled across her consciousness, she felt an overwhelming sense of fullness, of invasion. Harriet pushed back against that feeling, this time with more force, when a low, sensual voice spoke.

“It’s only me, Beauty.”

“Rumple,” Harriet thought as her head began to pound, “Please, stop.”

“Harriet…” Rumple whispered, his voice calm and soothing, “Just relax, love.”

Harriet wanted to open her mind to him, to allow him in, but her instincts screamed in protest. Giving anyone power over her, especially Rumpelstiltskin, went against everything she’d learned to survive. When she’d forgiven him and accepted her feelings, she'd thought the emotional walls she’d built to protect herself had vanished. But they were still there; fighting against her wants and desires. Yet, little by little she coaxed herself to relax. She reminded herself that Rumple was different now. That he wouldn't hurt her. She calmed herself enough that she could reach out to Rumple’s emotions, needing a reminder of their connection, when she recoiled in sudden panic. The depth of his regard for her, his love, burned so brightly.

It was overwhelming.

Once again, her memories began painfully cycling through her consciousness. She was swept into a cacophony of lights and pictures as a pressure began to build in her mind. She clung to her barriers, panicked, when everything suddenly became still and dark. Like she’d come to an abrupt halt in a dark tunnel.

She was floating in an inky blackness; her mind having given herself form. Everything paused; her memories, her emotions, her thoughts as she floated in a cocoon of nothingness. Then suddenly, unseen hands began to stroke her back. She tensed, before slowly relaxing into each caress, her terror lessening despite the gentle tug on her jeans. Slowly, they were pulled down her legs and off her body, her socks disappearing with them. Then her sweater was pulled up and over her head, leaving her clothed only in her bra and underwear. She felt icy fingers pull her legs gently apart as she floated in the darkness. She was blind, not an ounce of light penetrating the dark, yet she felt comforted, cocooned. Lips grazed her knee and thigh, as she felt a presence between her legs.

“Rumple?” Harriet whispered. She knew he was there. She felt him as he brushed against her thoughts, his emotions threading themselves through her mind, sliding into parts of herself she’d kept hidden; her desires, her wants, and needs. Her arousal unfurled as she surrendered to his intimate intrusion, spreading her legs wider for him.

Suddenly, the darkness became more defined, as if a light was shining from far away, turning the nothingness into shadows. Pain began to build behind her eyes and she quickly closed them against the incoming glow. Her feet brushed something hard and her eyes sprang open. Her surroundings were upside down. Frowning, she shook her head against the sudden vertigo and when she opened her eyes again, everything was right side up.

She’d appeared in the middle of a dense, endless forest. The black sky glowed a sickly green as the strange moonlight brightened her surroundings. Enormous trees towered over her, gnarled and dead. She shivered with dèjà vu.

Arms suddenly encircled her waist, pulling her backward into a lean chest. She felt kisses pressed against her as Voldemort purred, “I’ve missed you.”

“Voldemort?” Harriet whispered as his hands slowly traveled up her stomach to her breasts, cupping them as he nuzzled her neck. Harriet groaned, instinctively grinding against him, his cock already hard against her ass.

“Did you take my clothes off?” Harriet panted.

“Of course.” Voldemort hissed in her ear, “HE wasn’t doing anything to help calm you. If I hadn’t intervened, you might have HURT yourself.”

“So you seduced me?” Harriet asked, moaning when his fingers began tweaking her nipples. She felt his lips against her skin and unconsciously moved her neck to give him better access. Now that her desires were no longer buried, she wasn’t the least bit embarrassed by her reaction to his touch.

“You’re calmer aren't you? Voldemort smugly replied, pressing feather light kisses to her shoulder, “More pliant…willing…. needy.”

Harriet froze, disliking his insinuation. He chuckled as his fingers squeezed her nipples a bit too hard, forcing a whine of protest from her throat. Spinning her around, he cupped the back of her head as his mouth crashed into hers. Harriet’s eyes fluttered closed as his arms encircled her waist. She melted against his body, sighing in satisfaction.

Pulling back, he lightly bit her bottom lip, whispering mischievously, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Liar,” Harriet replied, her smile turning wicked.

He chuckled as he pulled her against his erection; needing her to feel the desire only she could inspire. Harriet moaned as she reached between their bodies, stroking his cock through his black dress robes. His eyes fluttered closed as he leaned his head back. It was only then that she could appreciate his alien beauty. He was still terrifying, there was nothing handsome about him, but Harriet liked how his snake-like nose gave him an otherworldly air, while the greenish moonlight made his skin glow faintly, unnervingly, luminescent.

He moaned, his face filled with pleasure, as Harriet stroked him. He clutched at her waist, pulling her closer; trapping her hand between them. His crimson eyes burned with desire as her pussy throbbed with need. She closed her eyes, ready for a kiss, when he vanished. She stumbled forward, confused, as her clothes materialized back on her body.

“What the hell?” Harriet muttered as she glanced around. The sickly green light had not changed, nor had the unnervingly dead trees. Yet she was suddenly, alarmingly, alone. A sudden crack resounded behind her as a twig broke, the eerie stillness amplifying the sound. Pivoting toward the noise, she watched Rumple rush toward her, his eyes filled with hurt.

“How could you?” Rumple shouted, grabbing her arm harder than he intended. Anger swam in his striking brown eyes as he glared at her.

“What just happened?” Harriet asked, confused and light headed from the sudden pounding in her head. She felt anger rise within her, foreign and dark, and certainly not hers. She tried to pull away, but Rumple tightened his hold.

“Why?” Rumple asked, his voice low and distorted.

“What is wrong with you?” Harriet asked, wrenching herself away from him.

Anger crossed Rumple's face, his hands slowly curling into fists.

“You know how I feel about cheating.” Rumple growled as he took a step in her direction, “You heard what happened with Milah, saw what Belle did, and yet…not even an hour after we declared intentions toward each other….you allowed that THING to touch you! To kiss you! To….to…PLEASURE you!”

Harriet’s jaw dropped in disbelief, her eyes widening in shock. She took in his appearance, noticing that he was wearing the same dark dress robes as Voldemort and clenched her teeth as her own anger rose to meet Rumpelstiltskin’s.

He was fucking jealous of himself!

“Rumple,” Harriet said, her voice hard as steel, “you were the one pleasuring me.”

Rumple took a step away from her, betrayal etched on every feature of his face, “That was not me!”

“Yes it was!” Harriet yelled, refusing to give in to his delusions, “You are Lord Voldemort, Rumpelstiltskin. The Darkness is Voldemort. Ergo…. THAT WAS YOU!”

Her voice echoed off the trees in the eerie silence of the dream woods, becoming louder with each echoed you…You….YOu…. YOU. Harriet and Rumple winced, the pain stabbing into their ears, before he turned away, hunching in on himself.

“Rumple….” Harriet whispered, as she stared at his back, “I don’t understand why you're angry.”

Spinning toward her, his dress robes whirled around him as he glared at her. His eyes had turned crimson, his skin had taken on a greenish hue. As he charged toward her, his dress robes twisted into a brown leather vest with a red undershirt and brown leather pants shoved into brown leather boots. His hair had lengthened, turning wild and grey as his skin began to shimmer with gold in the sickly green moonlight.

He grabbed Harriet by the shoulders, pinning her against a nearby tree. He towered over her, his anger palpable and yet Harriet found herself yearning for him. The same feeling she had when he’d accidentally broken her wrist or when he’d slipped into her dream.

“The fact that you would rather….” Rumple stuttered through gritted teeth, anger pouring off him in waves, “That you would allow him to touch you……when I have not.”

“Nothing is stopping you…” Harriet tried to say but Rumple cut her off.

“You would really rather make love to that…. thing, than me?”

“What are you talking about?” Harriet whispered in disbelief, she should have known he would be jealous. She should have expected it, but it never occurred to Harriet that someone could be jealous of themselves.

“You and ... .that ... .that monster were so close to FUCKING, Harriet!” Rumple yelled.

“THAT WAS YOU!” Harriet shouted, pushing him away as she felt a sudden weight settled on her. Looking down at herself, she sighed in annoyance, her clothes had once again changed.

She was wearing a beautiful floor length ball gown. The outer layer of the dress was a deep burgundy velvet while the front panel was a golden damask fabric with a subtle rose pattern. The bodice was fitted with intricate red rose embellishments while the sleeves puffed at the shoulders, only to taper into cuffs at the elbows. She lightly touched her hair, feeling the ringlets that were perfectly coiled around her face. She wiggled her toes and felt the soft velvet slippers on her feet.

Why did her clothes keep changing?

Voldemort had wanted her naked, needy, yielding in his arms. Rumpelstiltskin seemed to want to romanticize her, as if they were in a fairy tale. The pain in her head worsened as her eyes began to water. The Legilimency spell was becoming too much for her.

They would need to take a break soon.

He took a step back, running his hand across his scaled face, ‘It….it wasn’t me. I was watching you ... .but it wasn't me touching you.”

A dark chuckle resounded throughout the forest, startling Harriet. She glanced around, turning in a circle to see where the laughter was coming from, but it didn’t seem to have an origin.

She covered her ears with her gloved hands and shouted, “SHUT-UP!”

The laughter instantly died; swallowed by the silence of the dead forest. Shadows began to move and thicken around them, morphing into the shape of a man. Black robes billowed as crimson eyes flared to life. The shadows receded, revealing the customary sneer of Lord Voldemort. Rumple pulled Harriet towards him, his earlier anger having been forgotten in his need to protect her.

“You really will do anything to make yourself believe I’m the problem.” Voldemort hissed, taking a step forward, “Even chastising Harriet for simply enjoying pleasure from her lover.”

“You are not her lover.” Rumple growled, pushing Harriet behind him.

“ How you are the dominant personality, I’ll never understand.”

Rumple laughed scornfully, “You want to be dominant? Again? How did that work for us last time?”

Voldemort sneered, “At least I know how to please a woman, unlike you who can’t…..”

Rumple flew at Voldemort, his claws extended. Laughing mockingly Voldemort disappeared, and then reappeared behind Harriet.

Rumple spun, crouching as he growled, “Get your hands off her.”

Voldemort wrapped his arms around Harriet’s waist as he cast a smug glare in Rumpelstiltskin's direction, “See…she prefers…oof!”

Harriet’s rage exploded as she elbowed him in the gut. The realization that she’d inadvertently entered into a deranged threesome with Rumpelstiltskin and his own alternate personality was too much for her.

“Get the fuck off me.” She growled, stomping on his foot for good measure. Another bolt of pain thundered through her.

“Harriet?” Voldemort whined as he hobbled away from her, “What was that for?”

“We don’t have time for your self hatred right now” Harriet said, her jaw clenched as she glared at both of them.

Pain washed over Rumple and he winced. Voldemort only glowered at her.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Harriet snapped, “This is your fault, just as much as its Rumple’s.”

Voldemort said nothing as he stepped back from her, melting into the darkness that surrounded them.

Harriet rolled her eyes, "Both of you have a flair for the dramatic. It’s exhausting.”

“I….” Rumple began but Harriet cut him off.

“What?”

Rumple stared at her, his mouth dry. Her clothes had changed back to the simple sweater and jeans she wore; sensible shoes on her feet. She looked angry, and a touch betrayed, as she glowered at him.

“Is everything okay between us?” Rumple croaked. It was a foolish question. He knew it was, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from asking it.

Harrit scoffed, “There’s still an us?”

“What do you mean?”

“You seemed ready to throttle me just a moment ago.” Harriet growled, her eyes glowing in the sickly moonlight.

“I was upset….” Rumple began but Harriet cut him off.

“I don’t care.” Harriet shouted, “I’m not going to be shamed by you, or anyone else, for my desires.”

“Shaming you?” Rumple echoed, confused, “How was I shaming you?”

“You were disgusted.” Harriet said, turning away from him, not wanting to see the reprimand in his eyes.

Rumple took a hesitant step toward her, then another, until he’d gathered her in his arms. She was tense as he held her and Rumple cursed himself for the distance between them.

“It…it was jarring…seeing you with him.” Rumple whispered in her ear as he leaned over her shoulder, “I’ve never felt that anyone loved me as I am before, and yet you seem to embrace even the parts of me I reject.”

Harriet didn’t say anything, her eyes burning from unshed tears.

“My father, Milah, Cora, Belle…Bae,” Rumple’s voice broke as he hid his face in the crook of her neck, “Not even Henry.”

“Henry loves you.” Harriet replied, her voice thick, “very much.”

“He loves Rumpelstiltskin, his kindly grandfather.” Rumple replied tearfully, “Voldemort frightens him.”

“Voldemort frightens everybody, baby.” Harriet whispered. The word shuttered through Rumpelstiltskin, making him shiver at the intimacy of it.

“Baby?” Rumple replied teasingly, nuzzling her neck.

Harriet leaned against him, allowing him better access, “You don't like it?”

“I like it.” He replied, as he placed feather light kisses against her skin, “I like it more than I should.”

He carefully turned her around, clasping her hands in his and bringing them to his mouth to kiss, “I’m sorry.”

“Are you really?”

“Of course.” Rumple replied, frowning.

“So if I kiss Voldemort again?” Harriet began, but watched as Rumple shifted uncomfortably, answering her question.

“Ah.”

“I don’t know how to be comfortable with it,” Rumple replied, frustrated, “You must understand. I’ve fought against the Darkness for so long that it is a completely different person. Seeing you with it…with him…is like seeing you with another man.”

“Rumple…” Harriet’s shoulders slumped as she helplessly sighed, “This is taking self-hatred to another level. You’re going to have to speak with Archie when we finally get to Storybrooke.”

Rumple laughed at the absurdity of their situation, “As you wish.”

Harriet smiled, gently kissing him, before pulling back, “What do we do now?”

“Now…” Rumple said as he turned his attention to the task at hand, “Now we walk and see where this forest leads.”

They picked a direction at random, both innately knowing that directions didn’t matter in the dead forest, and began to walk. Glancing around she frowned, “Why in the world is this forest familiar?”

“Wasn’t this the sitting of your last interlude with Voldemort?” Rumple asked, struggling to keep his tone neutral even as he burned with jealousy.

Harriet glared at him but found her attention slipping away from Rumple and to the forest around them, “Yes…sort of .... but…doesn’t it kind of remind you of something else?”

“Of what?” Rumple asked as he glanced around, sudden dèjà vu making him slightly dizzy.

“Of the Forbidden Forest.” Harriet replied.

“Or the Enchanted Forest.”

“Either way,” Harriet said, “The Darkness chose this landscape for a reason.”

“We were always more comfortable in a forest.” Rumple said quietly, “The Forbidden Forest, the Albanian Forest, the Enchanted Forest…”

“I see.”

“Do you?”

“You killed me in the Forbidden Forest.” Harriet said quietly, “I think this is supposed to…echo that.”

Suddenly a barren clearing formed in front of them, an ugly echo of the place where he’d killed her. Voldemort stood in the middle, his face turned upward toward the moonlight. Rumple tensed, his jaw clenched as he glared at the Darkness.

Taking a step into the clearing he called, “Why did you bring us here?”

“You brought yourself.” Voldemort replied, as he pivoted toward Rumpelstiltskin.

Harriet hung back, not wanting to interrupt their confrontation; sensing that for once, she was not the focus of their attention.

“Why can’t I remember my time as the Darkness?” Rumple asked through clenched teeth.

“Because you are not the Darkness.” Voldemort sneered, “I am.”

Rumple pursed his lips, his eyes twitching slightly in annoyance, “You’ve been keeping the memories from me.”

“I am doing no such thing.” Voldemort carelessly replied.

“By existing, you keep them from me.”

“You refuse to accept me.” Voldemort shrugged, “It’s as simple as that. Accept who you are, and you will have access to all your memories. Don’t, and you and I will continue fighting, forevermore.”

“You cease to exist if I accept myself.” Rumple sneered, trying desperately to hide his growing fear.

Voldemort chuckled, smiling hideously as he hissed, “We’ll see.”

Rumple paled, taking a step away from the monstrosity before him. He couldn’t understand how Harriet looked at that monster and saw him. He couldn’t fathom it. They were nothing alike.

“ENOUGH” Harriet shouted, taking a step into the clearing. Voldemort’s eyes gleamed as they studied her.

Their relationship with Harriet was the only thing they could agree upon. His love for her burned his heart, while Voldemort’s desire made his own pale in comparison. If they were to become one, would their love and passion for her finally become equal?

Was it better to accept the Darkness? Or fight against it?

Belle had wanted him to fight, and it had cost them their marriage. Now, here he was contemplating the same thing knowing it would cost him his relationship with Harriet. Why? Because it made him feel less guilty? Like he was a better person than Voldemort? Something other?

For so long he’d run from himself, trying to become something he wasn’t. During the Ogre war, instead of helping from behind the front lines; he’d insisted on going to war. Instead of running away to another village with his family, he’d insisted they’d stay. He tried to mold himself to the expectations of his village, and when that hadn’t worked, he’d desperately accepted the Dark One. Trying to belong, to fill the emptiness within him just as much as he was trying to save his son.

Now he knew why.

The reckless part of who he was, the brave part, the confident part, was the Darkness. And yet, even then he wouldn’t allow himself to become one with it. To surrender. Unknowingly he’d fought for over two hundred and fifty years against his own darkness. Taking on aspects of it when circumstances suited him, yet never becoming one with it. To yield now would be like admitting failure.

“Are you saying that unless Rumple accepts himself, accepts you….then his memories are lost to him?”

“Yes.” The Darkness replied with an uncaring shrug.

“Then tell us how it happened.” Harriet commanded.

Voldemort laughed, “No. I don’t think I will.”

“Voldemort,” Harriet scolded, but he cut her off.

“I told you I wanted to be free,” Voldemort replied, anger coating his voice, “Even if that means I cease to exist. I languish in this place, this dead wood, somewhere between my mind and yours. It’s torture….a purgatory”

Harriet suddenly felt dizzy, taking an unsteady step backward, she heard an otherworldly voice say, “He will never be able to leave this place. A fitting punishment wouldn’t you say, for someone that abused immortality.”

She felt nauseous, unsteady, as she clutched at her forehead.

“Beauty?” Rumple cried as he hurried to her side.

“Harry.” Voldemort hissed as he slunk close to her, placed his hand under her elbow. Rumple took her other arm and they stood there, both aspects of Rumpelstiltskin starting worriedly at the woman they loved.

“You don’t hear it?” Harriet whispered, her hands becoming sticky with warm blood. She moved her hands from her forehead, staring at them without seeing. Voldemort hissed in shock as he watched warm blood seep from her scar and trail down her face.

“What in the hell?” Voldemort hissed as he took a step back.

“It’s…..the price…..” Harriet replied painfully, “I…think….”

She suddenly folded in on herself, Voldemort and Rumpelstiltskin catching her as they helped guide her to her knees. She swayed for a moment before saying, “I think….I know….there was a baby…crying.”

And then the world went dark.

Chapter Text

London

Severus seethed as he followed the wolf through London, dodging traffic and pedestrians, as they hurried to the apparition point. The city was busy as usual, with its noise and overpopulation that never failed to put him in a bad mood. It didn’t help that he was forced to navigate the city with someone he loathed.

The more time he spent in Remus’s company, the more he wanted to strangle the wolf with his bare hands. He mulled over the day’s events in his mind, his anger mounting as he finally understood what could have protected Harriet from the Dark Lord’s attentions; a family of her own. There was an undeniable connection between her and the Dark One, but Severus knew it wouldn't have mattered if she’d had Remus. Harriet was a loyal person; she never would have left her family for the uncertain attentions of a monster.

Gritting his teeth, Severus came to an abrupt halt a block away from the apparition point. Glaring at Remus, he impatiently waited for the other man to notice he was walking alone.

Turning, he frowned at Severus, “What?”

“I loathe you.” Severus growled, his hands balling into fists.

“I know, Severus.” Remus tiredly replied, walking back toward the potions master so they weren’t overheard “You’ve been telling me since we were fifteen.”

“Not that.” Severus snapped, his anger almost unmanageable, “This is about Harriet.”

“Harriet?” Remus frowned, “Since when do you use her first name?”

“Since it became obvious she needed a friend!” Severus snapped, “Since everybody seemingly abandoned her!”

“Including yourself.”

“If I had known….” Severus replied, his voice dipping low as he trailed off. Shaking his head, he cleared his throat. Briskly he said, “If I had known she needed someone. I would have stayed.”

“Really?” Remus asked, dark laughter coating his voice, “ You would have stayed and what? Babysat her as she drank herself into oblivion?”

“Did you even try to help her?” Severus asked, his voice turning icy, “Or was her pain too much for you?”

“She’s a grown woman.” Remus replied dismissively, desperately, “If she wanted to stop drinking, she would have.”

“You’re an idiot." Severus whispered, hate twisting his voice, “Harriet has had the world resting on her shoulders since she was eleven years old. She has not had a break since she was eighteen! Even then she spent her spare time helping me recover!”

“And yet, you left her as soon as you could!”

“I left so she didn’t feel obligated to care for me!” Severus shouted, his voice breaking. His recovery from the Draught of Living Death had been harder than he’d anticipated and he hadn’t wanted Harriet to be saddled with him. Not after the way he’d treated her.

Remus said nothing, his face impassive even as he shifted nervously. There was a heavy silence between them, neither man willing to back down.

Swallowing, Severus croaked, “Do you know how hard it was for me to hate her?”

“You made it look easy.”

“At first it was.” Severus replied, his voice cracking, “But the more I learned about her, the longer I knew her, the more I realized she wasn’t just James Potter’s spawn or Lily’s daughter….she was simply Harry….”

“And yet you made her life miserable whenever you could.”

“I was a spy.” Severus replied, his voice dripping with self loathing, "It didn’t matter what I wanted or who I cared for. Nothing mattered to Albus Dumbledore but the mistake I made when I was seventeen.”

Silence permeated the air between them as Remus frowned, “You were seventeen when you took the dark mark?”

“Yes.” Severus replied through clenched teeth.

“You were only four years older then Teddy is now.”

“Yes.”

“I never thought of it like that.”

“Everything is put into perspective when you are responsible for a child.” Severus replied, abruptly turning on his heel and walking away.

The contemplative silence between them grew until Remus said, “I…I should have done more to help her.”

“Did you even love her?” Severus asked, glancing at the wolf from the corner of his eye.

“I…” Remus said as he struggled to find the words, “I ... .of course I did…do. But I shouldn’t.”

“And that is why I hate you.” Severus quietly replied. Remus stiffened as he glared at the potions master. “You Remus Lupin, are an insufferable coward.”

“I was there when she was born!” Remus shouted, “I held her in my arms! Don’t you see? Loving her is wrong!”

“Maybe.” Severus paused, pivoting toward the werewolf, “But it doesn’t matter now. She’s found someone that doesn’t care how wrong their love is.”

“What are you saying, Severus?” Remus asked, his throat tightening with fear.

“I’m saying,” Severus growled, his anger reasserting itself, “That she’s fallen into the arms of the Dark Lord and I blame you, Albus Dumbledore, and the fucking Weasleys!”

“Not yourself?” Remus whispered.

“Oh, I blame myself.” Severus growled, “I blame myself for ever trusting you and your ilk with her. For not being more authoritative in my protection of her. For listening to Dumbledore when he said she didn’t need my guidance!”

Severus turned away and stalked down the street. There was much he blamed himself for. For not being the mentor she desperately needed; for believing himself unworthy. For being a fucking coward and failing to protect her when she needed him the most.

He had been wholly unprepared for living. He’d taken the Draught of the Living Death on a whim. Never once believing it would work. He’d been so close to death that even when the Wigginweld Potion had been administered, he’d almost died.

And Harriet had supported him through it all.

Every few days she’d come and check on him, giving him books and newspapers to fight off the unrelenting boredom. Then Albus had awakened from his own deathless sleep and she’d come to check on both of them. She hadn’t, not once, wavered in her dedication to the two men.

And how had they repaid her?

Severus had run away as soon as he was pardoned, needing time to recuperate and lick his wounds. He’d believed that she hadn’t needed him; that she had the Weasley’s and Albus to care for her. He’d written a few letters, wanting to continue their friendship, but he’d never sent them. He’d been too afraid of being a bother, convincing himself she’d only been kind to him because she thought she had to. He hated pity; even from her. It wasn't until she’d come to his shop, drunk and half starved, that he realized just how terribly he failed her.

Remus grabbed the back of his coat, ripping him from his thoughts. Tensing, he almost slammed his elbow in the wolf’s face when Remus urgently whispered, “Severus look.”

Across the street, Draco was walking from the apparition point. He seemed jumpy, glancing around as if he were afraid of being followed, prompting Remus to pull Severus deeper into the darkened corner. His skin crawled at having the wolf so close, yet he was grateful. If Remus hadn’t seen Draco they would have missed him.

“Where do you think he’s going?” Remus asked.

They watched as Draco walked in the opposite direction, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He seemed knowledgeable of his surroundings, as if he knew exactly where he was going. Severus winced. Draco had been living in the muggle world for over ten years. He could easily lose them in the city if they were discovered.

“I’m not sure. But we should find out.”

Remus agreed and they followed Draco through the streets of London. They weaved in and out of crowds, careful to stay close to their quarry, but not too close. For once, Remus was glad he’d embraced living as a muggle. He winced, however, when they watched Draco descend into the Underground. The subway station was small and filled with far too many people. Draco could easily lose them there.

“Where is he going?” Remus whispered, furring his brow. The subway line went all the way to Heathrow airport, the opposite direction of Grimmulad Place.

“We follow and see.” Severus replied as they descended the stairs. He felt wholly unprepared for the London Underground; acutely aware of how confining it was in the subway station.

“Shit.” Remus muttered as they reached the bottom. Draco was nowhere to be seen.

“There.” Severus muttered as he casually bought a newspaper, the stall blocking him from Draco’s line of sight,“ To the right.”

Remus nodded, ambling toward a pillar and leaning against it to hide his face.

“Where are you going, Draco?” Severus thought to himself.

They watched as Draco entered the last car. Glancing at each other, they hurried toward the subway car and carefully slipped in behind him, settling at the opposite end of the car. Using the newspaper to obscure his face, Severus watched Draco over the top. Remus stood with his back turned, hopefully blocking Draco from noticing the potions master.

Severus was reasonably sure their quarry barely noticed his surroundings; watching with narrowed eyes as the younger man muttered to himself while staring out the window. His already pale complexion had taken on a waxy sheen, his eyes were bruised and bloodshot, and he twitched every few seconds. Other passengers gave him a wide berth, muttering darkly about drugs.

“Could Harry be right?” Remus whispered, not looking in Draco’s direction, “Is there something wrong with him?”

Severus said nothing as he pursed his lips. He knew the boy had suffered badly at the hands of Voldemort and his father. He had mental scars that would take a long time to heal. Harriet had found solace in the bottle, why wouldn’t Draco follow a similar path?

“Maybe.” Severus replied, “ Harriet has rather good instincts when it comes to recognizing trouble. That’s what made her such a good auror.”

Remus swallowed before looking away, staring out of the window and thinking of what he’d lost. He barely noticed as they began to move, too absorbed in his own misery.

With just a team of three, Harriet had tracked down the remaining death eaters, dragging them to Azkaban. She’d been young, successful, and had a bright future ahead of her. It seemed like she could do no wrong, and Remus had been increasingly attracted to that confidence. To her.

Gritting his teeth he closed his eyes against his own memories, desperately shutting out his own feelings. He remembered those days fondly. She’d been busy, but she’d always made time for him and Teddy. When she came home late, she would sneak into Teddy’s room, “Just to hear him breathe,” She had said.

Some nights she couldn’t sleep. He would sit up with her as she stared moodily into the fire, slowly drinking a glass of wine. It had only been one, he’d made sure of that. Yet, at some point, when his feelings began to strengthen, he’d put distance between them; ashamed of himself. He ignored her moods and her drinking and focused all of his attention on Teddy. They’d still been friends, still coparented, but he’d made sure to spend time with women closer to his own age.

It hadn’t helped. His relationship with Elizabeth had fizzled out soon after Harriet had confronted him. He’d been heartbroken, wanting to take his hateful words back, but not knowing how. Instead, he’d doubled down on his own stupidly; suffering through sleepless nights as he wondered if she was okay, if she missed him, if she loved him, if she wanted him. He would fall asleep, his mind conjuring her. In his dreams he allowed himself to touch her like he wanted, to kiss her as long as he wanted, to devour her until she screamed his name incoherently.

The next morning he would be snappish and mean, miserable that she wasn't his; that he was lonely without her. He would focus on Teddy and forget her for a while, but the night would come and it would start all over again. The only thing that had kept him sane was the knowledge that she was just as alone as he was. That he hadn’t completely lost her. That once he made peace with his feelings, she would be his.

Except he’d waited too long. Now he had to suffer through Rumpelstiltskin touching her, kissing her….. loving her…..fucking her. Gritting his teeth, he continued to stare out the window, acutely aware of Severus’ hawkish eyes on him.

“Get ready, wolf.” Severus whispered as the car slowed and Draco began to stand, “We’ll need to keep him in our line of sight.”

“Alright.” Remus muttered faintly as he turned his thoughts to the task at hand; he had the children to worry about. He could contemplate all he’d lost later. He frowned when he noticed their exit, “Heathrow? Is he going to the airport?”

“Luckily it's close to the full moon. Even if we do lose sight of him, I can still track him.”

Severus shifted uncomfortably as he watched Draco move toward the subway doors. He still hadn’t noticed them, too busy muttering angrily at himself. He frowned. What could have happened to Draco to cause this?

Then the subway car screeched to a halt, the doors springing open. Draco was among the first to exit, while Remus and Severus followed a little behind, leaving enough space between them so Draco wouldn’t notice. For a moment, they lost him completely in the chaos of the crowd until Severus spotted him on the subway stairs.

“Hurry wolf.” Severus snapped, “Your nose will do no good if he gets too far ahead.”

They hurried after Draco, both having absolutely no idea where this could possibly lead. For the first time, Severus was glad to have Remus by his side. As much as the wolf made his skin crawl, Remus Lupin was a capable wizard, and would have Severus’ back in a fight.

He prayed it wouldn’t come to that.

Grimmauld Place

Hermione sighed as she sat her computer on the kitchen table, glancing over her shoulder and down the dark hallway; worry etched across her face. She wanted to believe in Harriet, like she had when they were at Hogwarts, but the constant worry for her friend wasn’t going to go away overnight.

“It will be alright Monie.” Ron said as he came in from the backyard; shrieks of childish laughter echoing behind him, “She knows what she’s doing.”

“Does she?” Hermione whispered worriedly, “She’s always struggled with mind magic.”

“Well, I think having Mr. Gold in her head has helped her learn.” Ron replied as he ran his fingers through her hair, struggling to remain hopeful. “She seemed better today.”

“Yeah….” Hermione replied, “I know. I just….” She sighed, “I worry.”

“It's too late to take our support back.”

“I know...I know…” Hermione said, her lips pinched, “I just…how are we going to help when she goes to Storybrooke?”

“We’ll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it.” Ron said, “and hope the old snake loves her.”

“He does.” Hermione replied, glancing at her husband. Smiling, she fondly teased, “Even you must have noticed that, Ronald.”

He winced, but nodded begrudgingly. Another happy shriek echoed from outside. Smiling, he kissed Hermione’s temple, “I’m going back outside to make sure Rose and Hugo haven’t terrorized Kreacher, Winky or the boys.”

“Winky loves them,” Hermione laughed, “But Kreacher…well….maybe you should go save them.”

Ron chuckled as he walked out the door. As it swung closed she heard him call after the children, laughter in his voice. Begrudgingly, she sat at the kitchen table, halfheartedly logging in. She sighed in regret at another missed opportunity to play with her children.

She briefly thought about emailing her team, seeing if they could help, but she quickly decided against it. The fewer people who knew, the less lies she had to tell. Typing in Lilith’s name, she’d just begun her search when her email chimed. Curious, she opened it. Her team wouldn’t message her unless it was important. They all knew she was on personal leave.

Reading the email, she frowned when she realized her assistant had only sent a link with the words, “we have a problem” in the subject line. Clicking the link, her browser quickly pulled up an American muggle newspaper. When she read the headlines, she gasped. There were dragon sightings near Boston.

“Fuck…” Hermione thought as she began furiously typing. This was an emergency. Not only was it a serious breach of the international secrecy statue but it was dangerous for Harriet and all of Storybrooke. She didn’t know what the magical world would do if they found the town, but she suspected it wouldn’t be good. Especially if they discovered that Rumpelstiltskin was Lord Voldemort.

Glancing out the window, she winced as she thought of Henry. He would forever be treated as the enemy should anyone find out. She couldn’t let that happen. Gritting her teeth, she worked hard at gathering as much information as she could on the sightings, instructing her team to spread another "hoax" campaign. The sightings were flimsy at best; with enough bots and fake accounts, it could easily be written off as fake. Grimacing, Hermione shook her head. Sometimes she really hated her job, even if it was necessary.

“How is it going?” Belle asked, as she tentatively entered the room, the Once Upon a Time book pressed tightly against her chest.

Hermione jumped slightly, turning in her seat. Glancing at the dark haired beauty, she bit her lip to keep from frowning. While Belle looked presentable and neat, she could see the tiredness in her eyes, the sadness in her posture, and hear the uncertainty in her voice. Earlier, when Hermione had gone to fetch her things, Belle had been adamant that she’d wanted to help, but Hermione couldn’t think of anything the other woman could do.

“I already have a lead. Apparently an unknown dragon was spotted in Boston. I’m betting it was Lilith.”

“Oh dear.” Belle said as she sat next to Hermione, “That can’t be good.”

“No. It is decidedly not.” Hermione replied as she drafted an email to the American team. She needed more information and they needed to know what their British counterparts were doing. She tried to play the “stray dragon” angle, hoping they would let more information slip than they normally would. They knew her brother-in-law was a dragon keeper, so asking for more information wouldn’t seem strange, “but I think we can contain it. Knowledge is power after all.”

“That’s what my….” Belle trailed off, swallowing back tears, “That’s what Rumple always says.”

Hermione paused, her face flushing. It was one thing to support her friend, but it was quite another to know that by supporting her friend, a marriage was destroyed.

“I’m sorry.” Hermione finally said, “I know it seems insensitive that we’ve supported Harriet as we have.”

Belle shook her head smiling wanly through her misery. Tears coated her lashes as she struggled to keep them at bay, “I understand. She’s your friend.”

“I’m still sorry.”

Belle nodded, sitting the book on the table and opening it to the last story. Wiping away her tears she said, “I’m trying to understand Harriet’s relationship with Rumple. But I’m finding it difficult to know what she’s thinking.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione curiously asked, looking at the open book.

“The Once Upon a Time book tells the true stories of many Storybrooke residents.” Belle began, her voice taking on a lecturing tone. “ It was created by the Dark Curse as a means to break it.”

“I’ve never heard of a curse functioning like that.”

“No curse ever has.” Belle replied, “Except this one.”

“Why?”

Belle shrugged, “I asked Rumple once, but he didn’t know.”

Bitterly she said, “It didn’t stop him from manipulating Regina into casting it though.”

“He created it?” Hermione asked, horrified.

Belle shook her head, her tone still bitter. “No. He stole it. He never would tell me from whom.”

Hermione nodded, her attention back on the book. Her eyes widened when she read Harriet’s name.

“Is Harriet in the book?”

“All of you are.” Belle replied, “The story of Voldemort’s downfall from your first year to your last. Seven stories in total, although they all seem to be from Harriet’s point of view.”

Gently, Hermione took the book from Belle and began reading; shocked at how accurate the stories were. Skimming the pages, she tried to understand the logic behind the book and its magic when her email chimed once again, pulling her attention back to her computer. Handing the book back, she began to read her email, nibbling her bottom lip in thought.

Belle gently ran her hand over the book's binding, her nerves calming as she felt the cool leather underneath her hand. Swallowing, she turned to the last page of the last story before she realized how dry her throat was. Standing, she hurried to the counter and began making herself a cup of tea, her mind too preoccupied by the day's events to even contemplate food.

“They’re still good.” Hermione said, as she kept reading.

Belle glanced at Hermione, puzzled, “Excuse me?”

The sandwiches.” Hermione replied, pointing at the counter, “ Kreacher put a stasis spell on them. They’re still good.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Harry asked me to make sure you ate.”

Belle snorted, turned, and grabbed a sandwich, before aggressively taking a bite. Through a mouthful of food she snarled, “Better?”

“Do what you want.” Hermione muttered, as she focused all her attention on the computer. They sat in tense silence until Belle sighed, deflating.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Hermione cliply replied, glancing at Belle from the corner of her eye.

“Everyone here is being so kind.” Belle said forlornly as she threw away the rest of her sandwich.

“And that’s bad?”

“It is when everyone here is friends with my husband’s mistress.”

Hermione winced, but said rather firmly, “I think she would prefer the word partner.”

Belle snorted, “I’m not inclined to care what she prefers.”

Her emotions were jumbled, hovering between angry and sad, betrayed and accepting. She knew she shouldn’t be this upset. She had moved on first, using Will as a distraction from her own self doubt. She truly didn’t have a leg to stand on, but the more she read about Harry Potter, the more it was unbelievable that she’d lost her husband to a woman he’d wronged so thoroughly. So completely. So totally. So irrevocably.

“I just…..” She paused, frustrated. Clearing her voice she said, “How does one as honorable as Harriet fall in love with a monster?”

Hermione frowned, “How did you?”

Belle paused and glanced at Hermione, her face softening.

“My country was at war with Ogres. We were desperate, so we called Rumpelstiltskin for help.” She shook her head at their own folly, “However, magic that big ... .well…it comes with a price in my world and that price was me.”

Seeing Hermione’s eyes widen in shock, she continued. “He said he needed a maid. At first I was frightened, but over time….he became kind to me.” She paused, lost in memories, “There were episodes of violence, Rumple has always had a nasty temper, but he never hurt me. He protected me, cared for me….even loved me.”

“So you got married?” Hermione prompted but Belle shook her head, “He let me go. Regina, Henry’s adoptive mother, found me soon after. She told me he was cursed. That only true love’s kiss could break his curse. So, I went back to his castle and tried to save him.” She sighed, “It looked like it was going to work too, but then…for some reason….it stopped and he sent me away.” Belle paused, her eyes sad, “ Regina kidnapped me a few months later as leverage against him. Not long after that, the first curse was cast.”

“The first?”

“There have been two.” Belle dryly replied, “The first Regina cast as a means to punish Snow White, her stepdaughter. The second was done by Snow to protect her son from Zelena.”

“Zelena?”

“The Wicked Witch of the West.” Belle explained, “And Regina’s sister.”

“And this Regina is Henry’s adoptive mother?” Hermione muttered, trying to understand.

“And Rumpelstiltskin’s student.” Belle replied, “And Snow White’s stepmother.”

“And who is Emma to Henry?”

“His birth mother.” Belle explained, “And Snow White’s daughter.”

“I see.” Hermione said as she shook her head and went back to her email, “That family tree is extraordinarily complicated.”

Belle chuckled as companionable silence descended between them, both smiling when they heard the children’s laughter. The clacking of the keyboard and the tinkling of china were the only sounds coming from the kitchen when Hermione suddenly shouted, “Ah HA!

“What?” Belle asked, closing the book; her mind reeling. She’d just finished the last story and she had no idea how Voldemort’s death could be undone. How Rumple could possibly be the same person. It didn’t make sense. It was as if a vital piece of the plot had been intentionally taken from the story.

“I’ve found her!” Hermione exclaimed as she began furiously typing, “I took a chance that she was fleeing from Boston. I traced every bus, subway, and plane ticket looking for someone with a name even remotely similar to Lilith Page.”

“And what did you find?” Belle asked, as Hermione sat back in surprise.

“A plane ticket.”

“Where?” Belle stood, and leaned over Hermione’s shoulder. Gasping, she asked “Here? To London? But why?”

“I don’t know.” Hermione said as she read, “It’s not one way. She means to go back in a few days, but still ….what are the odds that she’s coming right to us?”

“Could this have anything to do with the attack on the children?”

“But how?” Hermione muttered to herself, yet Belle’s logic was sound. It did seem too coincidental.

Drumming her nails on the table she lost herself in thought. Finally she said, “ Let me do a bit of digging.”

Furiously she began typing again, “What is Emma’s last name?”

“Swan. Why?”

“Rumpelstiltskin mentioned that she knew her attacker. I’m tracing her name. Do you know anything specific about Emma?”

“She was in the American foster care system.” Belle hesitantly replied. “After she was sent from the Enchanted Forest to escape the dark curse. She was adopted once…but I’m not sure that has anything to do with….”

“Oh!” Hermione exclaimed, cutting Belle off as she pulled up an old newspaper article. There were two pictures of two teenage girls, Emma Swan and Lilith Page. HAVE YOU SEEN THEM in big bold letters under their pictures.

“It seems they were discovered two weeks later.” Hermione read, “They’d broken into a house. Emma was sent back to foster care and Lilith’s dad came and got her. It specifically mentions that she was adopted.”

“Why would it mention that?”

Hermione shrugged, “The article says it was her reason for running away.”

“Oh no….” Belle whispered, “If she was in this world to begin with, then she could have run into Draco.”

“What are the odds?” Hermione muttered.

“What were the odds that she’d run into Emma when they are both from the Enchanted Forest?”

Hermione huffed and looked back at the plane schedule, “Her plane lands at the Heathrow airport in forty minutes.”

She stood and grabbed her wand. She needed to grab Ron. Glancing at Belle she asked, “Can you watch the children?”

“I want to come.” Belle insisted.

“Are you certain?” Hermione asked, apprising the woman before her, “ It’s going to be dangerous.”

“I’m tired of sitting on the sidelines. Of being protected instead of contributing." Belle swallowed her fear, “I can help.”

Hermione pursed her lips, but then nodded. Pulling the door open she yelled, “Ron! Belle and I have a lead. We're leaving”

“Alright Monie!” Ron yelled back, “Be careful!”

“Love you!” Hermione shouted as she shut the door.

Following Hermione from the kitchen, Belle felt jealousy stir inside her. She wanted a relationship like that; had thought she had that with Rumple, before all her hopes and dreams were destroyed.

“Hurry.” Hermione said as they quickly walked down the hall and out the door, practically running as they rushed toward the apparition point.

“Where are we going?” Belle asked as Hermione grabbed her arm. She felt a faint pulsing up ahead and frowned.

“Apparition point.” Hermione replied, almost out of breath.

“Is that what feels strange?” Belle muttered to herself.

Hermione frowned, recognizing Belle’s statement as odd, but she didn’t say anything as they turned into the apparition point. Glancing around, Hermione saw no one in the small crooked alley. Quickly she grabbed Belle’s hand and said, “Don’t let go.”

Pulling the other woman into her arms, Hermione disappeared and then reappeared near Heathrow airport. Taking two steps away from Hermione, Belle slid to her knees and promptly threw up her sandwich.

Hermione winced, before she surveyed the area, hissing to herself as she kneeled next to Belle. Trying to hide her face she whispered, “Shit. Draco’s here”

Belle wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Glancing around she asked, “Where?”

Hermione nodded her head to the left, “The pale blonde walking up the left set of stairs.”

Belle watched as the man in question hurried up the airport stairs. He was too far away to see clearly, but even from this distance she noticed he was talking to himself. Glancing around, she sucked in a breath.

“What?” Hermione asked.

“Professor Snape and Mr. Lupin are here,” Belle replied as she stood on shaky legs, “They seem to be following him.”

“Fuck.” Hermione said as she hurried toward the two men, Belle following close behind her. Not wanting to yell for their attention, Hermione purposely stumbled into Remus. Without thinking, Belle grabbed Severus’ hand, turning him away from Draco. If there was anyone Draco would recognize on sight, it would be his former head of house.

“Ms. French?” Severus whispered, surprise etched across his face. Her touch sent a shiver of electricity racing through him, his eyes widening as his breath caught. Belle pulled him closer, using his surprise to her advantage.

“Don’t go in there.” Belle replied, smiling shyly as she glanced behind him. She watched as Draco animatedly argued with himself before stomping through the airport doors.

“What?” Severus sputtered, distracted by how well her hand fit into his. It was soft and warm and it felt…nice.

“He’s picking up Lilith." Hermione replied, glancing between Belle and Severus. Neither had taken their hand from the other.

Severus felt ridiculous with his hand in Belle’s, yet he refused to let go. Instead, he tightened his hold, Belle’s eyes widening slightly in surprise.

“The dragon?” Remus asked, his voice dipping low.

“Yes…” Hermione replied.

“What does this mean?” Remus muttered.

Severus rolled his eyes, “It means this situation is far more complicated than we thought.”

“How are we going to get Draco away from her?” Hermione muttered, “She’s dangerous.”

“We need both of them.” Belle reminded the trio, “Remember, Lilith has the scroll to Storybrooke.”

“We follow them.” Severus firmly replied, “We watch and we follow. Only then can we decide what to do next.”

Hermione groaned as Belle swallowed nervously. This investigation was already spiraling out of control. What were they going to do if they couldn’t get Draco and Lilith? Call Rumple? Belle winced. That wouldn’t be a very good idea.

“Don't’ worry Ms. French.” Severus whispered, as he squeezed her hand in reassurance, “I have a plan.”

“It better be a good one, Severus.” Remus muttered as he glanced worriedly at the airport doors, “If we lose him, we may not find them before Draco attacks. And this time he has a dragon. A human dragon.”

Severus smirked, “Do as I say and we should have incapacitated by late tonight.”

Belle’s stomach flipped at the mischievous smirk that was plastered on Severus' face. His dark eyes sparkled, and Belle felt pulled in his direction, her attraction obvious even to herself. He was magnetic, powerful, and self-assured. Everything that had originally attracted her to Rumpelstiltskin.

Fearful, she pulled her hand from his and averted her eyes. She couldn’t fall for another man like Rumpelstiltskin. She wouldn’t. Her life had been utterly destroyed by one complicated, dark wizard. Why would she pursue another?

Severus glanced at her, disappointment surging through him. He’d liked her hand in his, something he hadn’t thought possible. Severus wasn’t a man that liked to be touched; even when the woman was as incredibly beautiful as Belle. Yet, he hadn’t minded. In fact, he’d enjoyed it.

Pushing his emotions to the back of his mind, he forced his thoughts to form a plan. If he didn’t focus, they could lose their quarry, putting themselves and the children in danger.

“We need to go find somewhere less conspicuous to discuss our plans.” Severus said as he glanced at their surroundings, “Follow me.”

Grimmauld Place

Teddy and Henry watched as Hugo continued to chase Rose through the gardens, annoying Kreacher and making Winky laugh. Both boys were tired, having spent the last thirty minutes amusing the two children.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Teddy said as he watched the children play without them.

Henry glanced at his new friend, slightly worried by the pensive look on the boy’s face. Teddy hadn’t taken Henry’s explanation very well. When the two boys had first slipped out of the kitchen, they’d huddled under the oak tree as Henry had quickly summarized everything that had happened, both in Storybrooke and England. He knew he left Teddy with more questions than answers, but he hadn’t been prepared for Teddy’s explosion of anger. He’d only stopped yelling when Ron had brought Hugo and Rose outside.

Ron had calmed Teddy down, despite being unable to answer his questions, making sure Teddy knew he had every right to feel the way he felt. He’d been bemused when he learned how much more Henry knew about the situation then he did. Chuckling, he shook his head and muttered, “Just like Harry” before Rose and Hugo had descended upon them. Rose had asked a dozen questions about Rumpelstiltskin, making even Henry perplexed. Teddy worried for Roses’ sanity.

“I like him.” Rose had snapped when Teddy had sneered at her questions, “He doesn’t treat me like a baby!”

“Yeah!” Hugo had said, coming to stand between Rose and Teddy; defending his sister.

Teddy had wisely let the subject drop, and the quartet had gone back to playing. Most thirteen-year-old boys would have felt self-conscious playing with much younger children, but not Henry. For once, Henry had felt like a real kid. His mother had kept him from other children; never letting him play or have friends. It felt good to be around kids his own age for once.

“What can’t you believe?” Henry asked.

“That I’m getting a stepbrother.” Teddy replied and Henry frowned.

“You are?”

Teddy looked at Henry, “Well…I mean auntie and your grandfather need to get married first but yeah….”

“You mean step-nephew.” Henry laughed, “My dad would be your stepbrother.”

“True….” Teddy said as he sat up, “When do I get to meet him?”

Henry’s face turned grave, “My dad’s dead.”

“Oh….” Teddy replied with a grimace, “I’m sorry.”

There was an awkward silence before Teddy said, “My real mom’s dead too.”

“How’d she die?” Henry asked, having a sneaking suspicion he knew.

Teddy’s face turned blank “During the Battle of Hogwarts one of your grandfather’s death eaters killed her.”

Henry grimaced but didn’t look away. He tentatively reached out and placed his hand on Teddy’s shoulder.

“You can call me stepbrother if you want.” Henry offered, smiling.

Teddy cocked his head to the side, “You’re so normal,”

“Why shouldn’t I be?”

“Well…with Voldemort as your grandfather….it stands to reason that you might be like him.”

Henry didn’t say anything for a moment, frustrated by Teddy’s judgmental attitude. He knew Teddy had every right to feel the way he did; he would too if their roles were reversed, but it didn’t hurt any less, “I am like him though, I just don’t like to hurt people.”

“And he does.”

“Yeah, less so now than in the past, but the urge is still there.” Henry replied, a faraway look in his eyes.

“I’m worried about him.” Teddy whispered, “He doesn’t like my dad.”

Henry bit his lip, feeling wholly unprepared for this conversation. Everything about his grandpapa’s life was complicated, and trying to explain it to someone made his head throb, “I…I know what he was like here…or rather…I’ve read about it .... but in Storybrooke and the Enchanted Forest he didn’t like to hurt kids.”

“Why is he so different now?” Teddy begrudgingly muttered.

“That’s what Grandpapa and Harriet are trying to figure out.” Henry said just before an ear-splitting scream ripped the pleasant evening apart. Everyone in the back yard froze, eyes wide in fear, before Henry and Teddy surged to their feet.

“Stay here.” Ron commanded, “Winky, Kreacher, watch the children.”

Henry and Teddy tried to follow Ron into the kitchen, but were stopped by a firm, “You too.”

Then he disappeared into the house. Teddy and Henry looked at each other for a moment before deciding to follow, but Kreacher blocked their path.

“Masters Teddy and Henry are to stay.” Kreacher firmly announced, glaring between the two boys.

Henry swelled with indignation. He wanted to fight, to scream. His fingers began to tingle, and his head began to pound. The urge to fling his hand forward and move the obstacle in his way was almost overpowering. The elf crossed his arms and glared at Henry, causing the boy’s anger to bleed away. He didn’t know enough magic to take on a house elf, especially one that had been entrusted with a task. It would be stupid to try and fight.

Wearily, he walked back to the tree, kicking the grass as he went. Rose and Hugo were both nervously waiting for them.

“Was that auntie?” Rose asked, her voice thick with tears.

Henry reached out and placed his arm around Rose’s shoulders, “I think so.”

“Is she gonna be okay?” Hugo whimpered and Teddy pulled the small boy into a hug.

“I don’t know.” Teddy replied, tears of his own threatening to fall.

Henry looked at the children, then at Teddy. Six pairs of miserable, frightened eyes stared back at him. Clearing his throat, Henry grasped for any idea to distract his new friends. Uncertainly he asked, “Do you want to hear a story?”

Rose and Hugo blinked in confusion before nodding, sitting crossed legged in front of Henry. They hunched in on themselves, leaning against each other for support. Licking his lips nervously Henry began.

“Once upon a time, there lived a lovely, lonely little Princess named Snow White……”

Teddy glanced at the door again, his gaze falling on a determined Kreacher, before he settled in to listen to the story. Fear for his auntie, the only mother he’d ever known, made his stomach roll. Yet, he too knew it would prove fruitless to fight against a house elf.

What was happening? Was it Voldemort? Was he hurting her? How could anyone trust him alone with his aunt?

Teddy felt bile climb up his throat, but he managed to swallow it, refusing to make a scene. He was terrified of Rumpelstiltskin, but Henry didn’t need to know that. He liked the other boy, but he wasn’t sure he trusted him. Henry loved his grandfather far too much.

Disquieted, Teddy hugged himself as he struggled to pay attention to Henry’s story; silent tears trailing down his face. What if his auntie died without knowing how much he loved her? What would he do then?