Chapter Text
After a quiet summer, Hogwarts was alive and bustling once again.
Regina Mills observed the excitement of her peers with barely hidden disgust. Monitoring the halls was one of the more bland prefect assignments, but it tended to resolve itself. Few students, at least those who weren’t first years, dared do anything disorderly once they saw her approaching. It was a power she took immense joy in.
The difference between this new term and the last was that whispers now followed her everywhere she went. They were the kind that stopped the moment she turned her head.
“Just ignore them,” Mal’s velvety voice pulled her from her thoughts. “All gossip’s good gossip.”
Regina glanced over at her best friend. Blue hooded eyes. A crown of messy yellow curls. Her skirt was rolled at the waist, needlessly shorter. Despite coming from one of the few remaining pure blood families, each year Mal seemed more content to coast on her name alone. She drifted through her studies, half awake and unbothered. Today she was already drowsy and it wasn’t even noon. Still, irritating as it was, she had a point.
“It’s annoying,” Regina replied.
Mal hummed in response, flicking her wand to lazily lift a Hufflepuff’s chocolate frog into the air and straight into her hand. When Regina didn’t say anything, Mal paused, curious blue eyes sliding toward her.
“You’re not going to tell me no magic in the halls,” she said, already taking a bite.
Regina rolled her eyes and kept walking, her irritation growing with each step.
“I need to speak with Professor Snape. Are you coming?” She said at last, stopping at the corridor that led either down to the Slytherin dorms or toward the Potions classroom.
Mal didn’t answer. She was too busy turning the chocolate frog card over in her hands.
“Rumplestiltskin is a renowned magical scholar and the foremost modern authority on the Dark Arts. He teaches that all magic comes at a price, a belief that defines both his theory and his practice. His methods are widely regarded as too dangerous for conventional instruction, yet his influence continues to shape advanced magical studies.”
Mal angled the card so Regina could see it.
“Kind of cute, isn’t he?”
Looking back at Regina from the card was a thin faced wizard with pale skin, sharp cheekbones, and keen, intelligent eyes. His lips curved into a small, knowing smile, and his brown hair fell loose around his face. Under his robes was a vest made of what looked to be alligator skin.
“Mother says he’s over five hundred years old,” Regina said flatly. “Which should be enough to disqualify him from your attention.”
Mal’s mouth curved into a slow smirk.
“Please. Age just means experience.” She dropped the card at her feet without another look. “And no one’s out of my league.”
She yawned, already losing interest. “I think I’ll take a nap.”
Turning toward what appeared to be a blank wall, she lifted her wand. “Sacramentum.”
The stone rippled, a hidden door sliding open just long enough for Mal to step through.
“Try not to miss me,” she called lightly, and then she was gone.
Regina watched her go. With a quiet sigh of relief at finally being alone, she picked up the card Mal had littered. Rumplestiltskin was gone, but she slipped it into the pocket of her robes anyway and continued down the hallway.
She had far more important things on her mind than chocolate frog cards or ancient wizards. A new school year meant renewed permissions, and she intended to secure access to the restricted section as soon as possible.
That intention carried her deeper into the dungeons, where Professor Snape could always be found. She knocked once, heard his terse reply, and stepped inside.
“Classes don’t start for another few days,” he said by way of greeting, his quill moving steadily over a piece of parchment.
“I’d like to request access to the restricted section, Professor,” she said, confident and composed, the tone of someone who was used to getting what she wanted.
Snape spared her a glance, his eyes settling on her with an unusual heaviness. Regina held his gaze as if they could have been talking about something as simple as a cure for boils.
“I don’t believe that’s prudent at the moment,” he said quietly.
Her face didn’t flinch, even as her fingers dug into her palm.
“Sir-“ He raised his hand to stop her.
“We’ll continue this conversation after you’ve settled in for the new term.” His quill resumed its scratching.
Regina’s eyes went dark. “Of course, Professor. I understand.”
She turned on her heel with practiced grace.
Thankfully, the dungeon corridors were empty. Regina made it only a few feet from the door before she noticed her heart pounding in her ears. Anger wasn’t a feeling she was used to. She was the top Slytherin in her year, one of the top students in the school. Snape had always given her preferential treatment. Who was he to decide, now of all times, that she’d be denied.
Something clattered softly against the stone. Regina stopped and looked down to see the chocolate frog card at her feet. She bent to retrieve it, and this time Rumplestiltskin had returned. His sharp eyes seemed fixed on hers. He winked.
An idea hit her.
Regina resumed her path through the maze of Hogwarts. She’d expected Snape’s refusal. She told herself that as she slipped behind a secret tapestry, taking a familiar shortcut, but the tightening in her throat betrayed her. If she couldn’t persuade him, she’d appeal to someone stronger.
Rumplestiltskin.
The entire school had buzzed when the announcement went out at the end of year banquet months ago. One of the most powerful wizards alive. A legend. The idea that he’d accepted the Defense Against the Dark Arts position had sent even the older students into a frenzy.
She managed to regain her composure before reaching the upper levels of the castle. Rounding a corner on the third floor, she nearly collided with Mary Margaret and David.
“Watch where you’re going,” she snapped, a little too fast. Then she noticed the blonde girl standing behind them, out of place and watching everything with open curiosity. And then the mutt. “I forgot that Gryffindors always travel in packs,” she said, lifting her chin slightly, her eyes sliding to Ruby with open contempt.
“Seems you forgot a lot over the summer,” Ruby fired back.
Regina saw red and drew her wand.
“I’m so sorry, Regina,” Mary Margaret rushed in, gripping Ruby’s arm before she could reach for her own wand. Her eyes pleaded with the brunette not to push the Slytherin any further. Emma watched the exchange with undisguised interest.
“Keep your friend on a tighter leash.”
“That’s it,” Ruby growled, straining forward, but Mary held firm, like this wasn’t the first time she’d done it.
“We’re showing a new student around,” David said at last, his tone steady but warning as he stepped in front of them. His prefect badge caught the light, and Regina lowered her wand.
She gave them a bitter smirk instead, sliding it back beneath her robes.
“I know. We were all at the sorting ceremony, remember? Not every day Hogwarts gets a transfer sixth year.” Her dark eyes flicked to Emma. “Well? Aren’t you going to introduce us?” she added, her smile tight.
Mary Margaret scrambled again. “Emma, this is Regina Mills. Another prefect. Regina, Emma Swan.”
Emma held out a lanky arm. Her hand was tan, a little rough, like she was used to working with it. Regina took it reluctantly, unsettled by how naturally it fit against her own, then withdrew just as quickly.
“Nice to meet you. I think.” Emma ran an awkward hand through her wavy golden hair. She looked uncertain, like she hadn’t decided what to make of Regina yet, whether she was meant to be feared or not. “I just found out about all this stuff.” Her green eyes were far too bright. Regina’s narrowed by contrast.
“I see. Let’s hope you can keep up in class, then,” Regina said lightly, her droll tone sounding uncomfortably close to Mal’s. “I’m sure the Charmings will be more than happy to assist you in your studies, though I wouldn’t bother asking the mutt.” She finished with a polite, empty smile.
Ruby nearly lunged again.
“Well. See you.”
Regina strolled past them, eager to put distance between herself and the three idiots, and the girl who felt faintly familiar in a way she couldn’t place. She’d lost control for only a split second, but she hated herself for it.
Minutes later, Regina paused outside the DADA classroom.. The door was cracked open, just enough to let candlelight spill through and cast long shadows down the corridor.
She took a steadying breath. Snape’s refusal had stung more than she let herself admit. She needed this access. She needed knowledge. Answers. A chance to undo the one thing she couldn’t stop replaying every time she closed her eyes.
Regina pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The room looked different under his touch. Shelves lined with talismans and odd objects that seemed to watch her. Foreign instruments pulsing faintly. A coldness she couldn’t describe that was different than the chill of the Potions classroom.
He sat at the far end of the room with his back to her, one hand slowly turning a spinning wheel. Regina watched him for a moment, waiting to see if he’d acknowledge her presence. He didn’t. The wheel kept turning.
She cleared her throat.
Nothing.
“Professor Rumplestiltskin,” she said at last, her voice lifted just enough to sound polite, almost tentative. Her head tilted in practiced curiosity, long dark hair slipping over her shoulder as she stepped fully into the candlelight. Her posture softened. Composed. Respectful. The picture of a diligent student who knew her place and meant no trouble at all.
It wasn’t entirely an act. She had learned long ago how powerful it was to seem harmless.
Despite her perfect display of innocence, he answered without turning. “That’s not how you say it, dearie.”
Her breath caught. The way he said dearie was strange, amused, far too intimate for a teacher addressing a student.
She opened her mouth to apologize, but he continued, “But then, you didn’t need to say anything.”
He turned slowly, and Regina felt something shift in the air. His smile was sharp, curious, almost delighted to see her, as if she were exactly what he’d been expecting. His eyes seemed to bore straight through her, stripping away the careful composure she’d assembled. As he rose to his full height, his cloak glided around him like a living shadow.
Regina swallowed. “I… I’m sorry. I’m not entirely sure how to start this conversation.”
He lifted his brows, amused. “That much is clear. Allow me to introduce myself. Rumplestiltskin.”
“And I’m-“
“Regina. I know.”
Her composure faltered, but she was quick to recover. “you do?”
“But of course.”
She hesitated then, something unreadable passing briefly behind her eyes.“Because of my mother. You taught her?”
He inclined his head, the gesture half bow, half mockery. “My legend precedes me.”
“People say I look like her when she was younger.” That earned a soft hum, his gaze settling on her in delight.
“Really? I don’t see it.” He paused, tapping his chin absent mindedly. “You’re quite ambitious to be seeking me out before the term has even started.”
She hated the flush creeping up her neck, but she forced herself to meet his eyes. “Professor… if you already know who I am, then you know why I’m here. You know what I want.”
“Oh yes.” Rumple’s eyes gleamed in a way that suggested he knew far more than he was letting on.
She drew in a quiet breath, trying not to let her impatience show. “Will you help me?”
He considered her, head tilted, smile curling slowly. “Possibly, yes.”
Her eyes lit up.
“You want entry into the restricted section.”
“Yes.” Her voice stayed steady. “I want to study time magic and necromancy.”
“Mm… Those are two ambitious corners of magic to explore. Destructive enough on their own, but put together…” he giggled.
Regina refused to shift her stance. “I can handle the work.”
“Oh, I’m sure you can.” His tone warmed with a curious kind of fondness that she didn’t understand. “You always were a diligent little thing.”
She felt her breath catch. Unease curled through her entire body. “Professor Snape said I need to settle in before requesting difficult material.”
Rumple let out another quiet, amused sound. “Severus is a careful man. He believes students should keep their minds clear before reaching for certain kinds of knowledge.” His gaze flicked across her expression. “And you, dearie, are not clear at the moment.”
Regina stiffened. “I’m fine.”
“Are you?” His voice dropped quiet, nearly gentle. “The things hidden in the restricted section aren’t harmless curiosities. They pull. They whisper. They promise answers to students who don’t understand the price they’ll pay for such magic.”
She held his gaze, jaw set. “I’ll pay it.”
“I don’t doubt that you will,” he said with a laugh that sent a pulse of anger through her. “But that isn’t what concerns me.”
“Then what does?”
“You,” he replied simply. He studied her with sharp, brilliant eyes. “You remind me of your mother when she stood exactly where you are now. Beautiful. Ambitious. Desperate to change her fate,” he said ‘fate’ with a flourish of his hands, almost playful. Then his voice darkend. “She learned too late that magic doesn’t change who we are. It reveals it.”
“I know who I am.”
Silence settled between them, heavy and electric, as though the room itself were waiting to see which of them would move first.
Then he laughed.
The sound was sharp and pleased, echoing faintly off the stone, as if her certainty had amused him far more than it should have.
Before Regina could respond, he turned, crossed the room, and opened a drawer in his desk. He drew out a sheet of parchment stamped with the Hogwarts seal, dipped his quill, and wrote with elegant precision. The scratching sound was impossibly loud in the stillness.
He lifted the parchment, held it delicately between his fingers, and walked back to her.
She reached out, and his fingers brushed hers.
“Careful,” he murmured, still holding the slip with her fingers curled around it. “Knowledge is a curious thing. It can illuminate. It can corrupt.” His voice dropped to something soft and dangerous. “It can give you power you never thought possible.”
He finally released the parchment. Regina folded her fingers around it quickly.
“That’s exactly what I’m planning on,” she said.
Rumple’s smile sharpened. “Then we understand each other.”
A cold chill ran down her spine. She managed a small smile and turned away. The parchment in her hand felt like proof that something in her life was still moving forward, still within her control. She didn’t return to the dormitory. She went straight to the library.
Emma learned quickly that the Gryffindor common room was always a lively place. She’d never had a room of her own, so sharing with four other girls didn’t bother her. Ruby’s bed was next to hers, with Ashley’s on the other side. She didn’t know much yet about the other two girls, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, beyond the fact that they were rarely quiet.
Mary Margaret was hanging out in their room that night. She stopped by after finishing her prefect rounds and collapsed onto Ruby’s bed with an exhausted sigh.
“Don’t get tired yet,” Ruby joked. “The school year’s just beginning.”
“At least you get to be with David all the time,” Ashley added with a knowing smirk.
“He only makes everything harder,” Mary Margaret laughed, in a way that made it clear she didn’t actually mean it.
Emma wasn’t sure where to jump in, but she liked listening. Watching them felt easy.
“Anyway, Emma,” Mary Margaret said, rolling onto her stomach. “I’m sorry about that run in with Regina. We usually try to avoid her.”
“You try to avoid her,” Ruby corrected.
“It’s okay-” Emma started.
“Y’all ran into Regina?” Ashley asked, and just like that they were retelling the story, though it had grown in scale a bit. Ruby insisted she’d been seconds away from catching Regina off guard with a jelly legs jinx.
“She’s definitely interesting,” Emma said finally, her thoughts drifting back to the encounter. Anyone could see that Regina was beautiful, and there had been something familiar about her, especially when their hands had touched. “Not cool to call someone a mutt though.”
Ashley gasped.
“See. Told you,” Ruby said triumphantly, tossing a handful of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans into her mouth.
“You’re not supposed to eat them all at once,” Mary Margaret began, but Ruby was already leaning off the side of the bed, gagging. She straightened a moment later, wiping her mouth with her arm.
“Remind me of that next time.”
Emma smiled. Genuinely. It surprised her a little how easy it came.
Eventually, Mary Margaret checked her watch with a small sigh and pushed herself off the bed. “I should probably make one last round before lights out,” she said, already halfway back into prefect mode. “Try not to burn the tower down while I’m gone.”
“We make no promises,” Ruby said cheerfully.
Mary Margaret hesitated at the door, then glanced back at Emma. “And really. About Regina. She’s… complicated.” She offered a small, apologetic smile. “She didn’t always used to be like that.”
Emma nodded, not trusting herself to say much more.
When the door closed behind her, the room settled. Curtains were drawn, wands flicked to dim the lamps, and one by one the girls climbed into their beds.
Emma lay on her back, hands folded over her stomach, staring up at the dark canopy above her. Around her, breathing evened out. Someone shifted. Someone else murmured in their sleep.
She didn’t sleep.
Her mind kept circling back to Regina. The sharpness of her voice. The way her hand had felt when their fingers touched. How impossibly soft her hair had looked.
Emma turned onto her side, pulling the covers closer. She told herself it was nothing. Just a bad first impression. Just curiosity.
As Emma Swan finally drifted into sleep, the Slytherin dungeons were already quiet.
Regina sat alone at her desk, a single lamp lit beside her. A small stack of books rested within reach, heavy and carefully chosen. She read in silence, unhurried, turning each page with deliberate precision.