Thought Contagion
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.