Lily, heavily pregnant though she was, ran from the room. She'd never been a delicate flower, whatever her name might have implied. Her husband could fuss all he liked, but she hadn't been transfigured into spun glass just because she had another life growing inside of her.

What had happened was she'd been taken off the love potions. Love potion didn't mix well with pregnancy, and James had guessed – correctly – that she wouldn't leave him now that she was pregnant with his baby. Besides, being married to a man who had recently inherited the title of Lord of an Ancient and Noble House came with benefits, and he was an auror besides, so it was possible (read: damn bloody likely) that he wouldn't live to see the end of this stupid war.

Even without the prophecy hanging over their heads and half-known to the enemy. A prophecy that Lily, for one, didn't believe for a second, whatever impression to the contrary she'd given her husband and Dumbledore when she'd run from the room upon being told it.

"I may not give a damn about your father right now baby," Lily whispered to her child as she caressed her distended midsection and paced her private sitting room (she was the wife of a man who was raised in a culture that was still stuck in the regency – and that at the most recent; she had her own set of chambers apart from her husband's. They just hadn't been used much before she became pregnant). "But you're my baby, and I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you don't get dragged into Dumbledore's war as well."

"That sounds promising," a strange voice twittered from behind her.

Lily spun on the spot, green eyes flashing and wand raised in readiness to defend herself and her child.

"Now now, no need for that dearie," tutted the strange-looking man that, even standing still, gave an impression of restless, flighty movement. He wore a bright navy vest over a blue satin poet-style shirt, and leather pants that were tucked into knee-high boots. He had green-gold skin that looked scaly and rough. His hair was in limp-looking ringlets of a faded, mousey, brown-grey sort of colour with hints of the same olive-green that tinged his skin. His eyes were large in his face, and his irises were large in his eyes, and though it was hardly light his pupils were very small. He didn't look human...

He was also clearly not a Death Eater, but that one fact didn't make him friendly by default.

"Who are you?" Lily demanded. "And what are you doing here?"

"I am Rumplestiltskin," the man said with a flourish and a grin that showed off his slightly crooked teeth. "And I can help you with your troubles. For a price."

Lily lowered her wand only slightly. So that it was pointed at the strange man's midsection, rather than his face.

"I'm listening," she allowed.

"Oh, that's not the thing this time dearie," Rumplestiltskin scolded with a smile and a pair of shaking fingers. "What is it that you want? And what are you willing to give me to make sure that it happens?" he asked with a sly, wide smile spread across his face.

"I want my baby to survive this stupid war," Lily answered. "I want him to live a safe, happy life -" which she knew meant away from the machinations of Albus bloody Dumbledore. She might be muggle-born, but she was also credited as the brightest witch of her age. She knew the man was manipulative. After all, he was the one who had suggested James use love potions to get her to marry him. "I want him to grow up to be a gentleman."

"That's entirely open to interpretation and very subjective dearie," pointed out the man with the green-gold skin and expressive hands.

"A smart and moral man," Lily amended. "One who can inherit his father's title of Lord Potter and wield the power that will come with that title in an intelligent, useful way. I don't want him to ever be a spoilt, bullying, brat of a man like his father is, thinking he's the best thing to ever have happened to the world. I don't want my baby to think in the stark terms of the dichotomy of good and evil," she allowed, lowering her wand to rest at her side at last. "Just so long as he understands the difference between right and wrong. He should know about duty, honour, and doing what's right, even when it isn't easy... and that the end doesn't justify the means."

"That's quite the tall order, dearie," Rumplestiltskin pointed out, nearly all the merriment gone from his mien as he considered her and her request seriously.

"And I'm not done," Lily informed him. "My baby should have happiness. Joy. Laughter and song. He should have music and dancing and smiles and hugs. He should have beauty in his life."

"The granting of such a wish wouldn't come cheap," Rumplestiltskin informed her.

"I've been casting spells of protection over my baby for the last six months," Lily stated with a fierce determination in her eyes. "The strongest of them will see me die protecting him. I'm not afraid of any price you might have."

"Your husband's life?" the man enquired curiously.

"He got me to marry him by slipping potions into my drinks," Lily informed the man, her tone flat and cold. "I'm free of them while I'm pregnant though. I never, in my right mind, actually wanted to be his wife, even if it has elevated me to the peerage. I only haven't left him already because plans like divorcing a Lord take time, especially in Magical Britain, and he's just as likely to die while he's out on a 'mission' for Dumbledore, and then it wouldn't matter."

"No love lost there," the man noted thoughtfully. "The wealth of his family?" he suggested.

Lily smiled at that. "If you're the same Rumplestiltskin that spins straw into gold? Then I don't think you need it," she observed. "The Ancient and Noble House of Potter is related to just about every other Ancient and Noble House in the Empire though. There are extensive properties, and I'm fairly sure that every single one of them has a library as well as all sorts of valuables throughout the halls, and knowledge is always more useful than dull metal."

The peculiar man hummed lightly and began to pace, and his steps were so graceful that it was almost like he was dancing, despite the solemnity of his actions.

"Your child, raised as you desire, in exchange for your life, your husband's life, and all the material wealth of your husband's very extended family save that which are specifically coin, clothing, living creatures or immovable buildings. Every book, every piece of furniture, every magical object, every potion made and every spell that is written down, will become mine."

"If I survive, and my baby is still safe, then I'll raise him myself, and you'll get nothing," Lily claimed.

"And if your husband outlives you, then I'll kill him when I take the rest, and then I'll take your child, and I'll raise him, just as you have requested. He'll be a happy child, and he'll grow into a man that everybody should aspire to be like, as per your specifications. Do we have a deal?" he asked, and offered his hand to shake. The grin on his face was less than friendly, but still sincere.

Lily considered for a moment, but ultimately placed her hand in his. "Deal," she agreed. This would see not only her son safe and cared for, but it would also be revenge on all of the purebloods who were so opinionated about this war. For them to be left with empty houses and only coin in their vaults, all of their precious books and artefacts gone... yes, that would do nicely for revenge as well.

"One more thing before I go dearie," Rumplestiltskin said, turning back from where he was half-turned away from her. "What's the wee lad's name?"

"Harry."

~oOo~

Just three months shy of two years later, Rumplestiltskin returned to the world where he had made a deal with a fiery young woman who, despite her situation, refused to give in to fate. He could appreciate a woman like that. She was stronger than the damsel-types that infested the Enchanted Forest, and more selfless than the women who took it upon themselves to learn magic so that they could improve their situations.

Lily Evans-Potter had learned magic, but not to change her situation. She had learned because it was something that was simply done in her world when there was a child who had the gift. That she had used magic to protect her child was more in line with any other mother without power standing between an ogre and her child, cast-iron skillet in hand, when that need arose.

First things first, Rumple smiled to himself, and began the magic of finding every thing in this world that belonged to those related, by blood only, to the husband of Lily. Oh, but it was so easy to find so many relations that way. It was just a matter of following every right connection.

Oh and what a collection began to pile up before him in the garden behind the ruined house he had visited but once before. Rumple's usual delighted grin couldn't help but stretch wider than ever in sheer glee at all the incredible trinkets and amassed knowledge that he was collecting as part of this deal – oh, and he knew very well that these were things that weren't rightly the woman's to give him. He could tell she'd slipped in petty revenge as part of the deal, as part of the payment.

The price paid to him was worth the extra favour.

Even raising a child again. For the price of all this knowledge, all these interesting baubles (some of which were very large, there were even hump-backed sea-chests and larger-than-life paintings in the pile), yes, he would gladly take the child in and raise it.

When the payment began to tower too high over the ruined house, Rumple sent what was present off to his castle, and clapped his hands like an excited child as still more came to him. It had been dark when he began collecting his price. Midnight, in fact.

It was very nearly dawn by the time he'd finished collecting his treasures, and that with the aid of an impressive amount of magic. It would take him some time to sort it all, he was sure, but somewhere among all of that was bound to be something that could aid him in his own personal quest.

He didn't, actually, like the idea of a massive curse being the only way for him to reunite with his son. He was pretty damn sure his son wouldn't approve either, if he learned of it.

Then again, in his years of searching for his son, he had done a lot of things that Baelfire wouldn't have approved of, if he'd known about them.

For now though, Rumplestiltskin had a child to collect.

~oOo~

Rumple narrowed his eyes at the place where the pull of the deal had brought him. On some level, it disgusted him that such a place as this actually existed. On that same level, he was deeply unhappy about having to bear witness to its existence. It was a whole different level of disgust, however, that he felt as he collected the child from the doorstep.

The doorstep! There was frost on the ground, and some fool had left the child on the doorstep of one of these nearly nauseatingly identical houses with nothing more than a thin blanket! And a note.

"How civilised," he snarled softly, and his sarcasm was sharp, even with no one there to hear it.

Rumplestiltskin rather thought it uncouth and clumsy. One never simply left a child on a doorstep. Especially nearing winter time. The child could well be dead before it was discovered, left unwatched in such circumstances.

Careless.

Rumplestiltskin cradled the child in his arms. Tiny little Harry. Only eighteen months old, by the calendar of his world. Old enough to have begun walking, since most children had begun to crawl at half that age. He knew that from experience.

"Well, young Harry," Rumple cooed to the child he held, "you're mine to care for now, and I'm bound by the Deal to do better by you than I did my own son."

So saying, the Dark One vanished in a cloud of purple smoke, back to his own castle in the Enchanted Forest.