Rumpelstiltskin and the Guardian

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.