31 Years Ago

A little boy found the baby on the side of the road, wrapped up in a white blanket with a name embroidered on it in purple yarn: Emma. She was barely a day old, pink-faced and trembling with cold, and around her neck was a necklace with a strange hourglass pendant.

Present Day

Regina had known this day was coming. Dreaded it with every fiber of her being. She had begun to suspect when he was only five years old and a broken toy had suddenly been fixed, without any explanation, surprising Henry as much as her. But if there had been any doubt, it had been erased when a pile of broccoli had disappeared – literally disappeared – off of seven-year-old Henry's plate. Her son was a wizard. And Regina couldn't be more disappointed.

She had expected his Hogwarts letter. What was a surprise was a very pregnant Snow White knocking on her door the morning of Henry's 11th birthday. Her jaw dropped as she opened the door and saw who was there.

"You."

Snow smiled awkwardly. "Yes, me."

"Would you mind telling me what you're doing here?"

"Would you mind telling me how you managed to adopt a magical child?"

Regina's heart sank. Of course. Sighing, she beckoned for Snow to follow her into the house.

"I don't suppose you'd like a glass of apple cider?"

"After what the last apple I took from you did?" Snow huffed, sitting down on the couch. "I don't think so. Now, tell me. Did you know who he was when you adopted him?"

"No, of course not." Regina shook her head, seating herself across from the other woman. "Do you think I wanted this? For my son to join a world that I can't … that I can never be a part of again?"

Snow shrugged and tilted her head curiously.

"So you don't know who his birth mother is, then?"

Again, Regina shook her head. "It was a closed adoption. But from that look on your face, I take it you know?"

"Emma Swan."

That one name was enough to make the floor drop out from under Regina. No. It wasn't possible. The Savior didn't have a son, and even if she did, what were the odds that Regina would end up adopting him?

"So you'll be taking him, then?" Regina said coldly.

"Just to shop for school supplies," Snow replied. "Sorry, it's just, I teach at Hogwarts now, so they sent me because …" her voice trailed off awkwardly.

"Because I can't go to Diagon Alley," Regina finished. "Or anywhere in the Wizarding World. I know the meaning of the word 'banished', Snow."

Snow had the nerve to smile at that, but it wasn't a mocking smile. Maybe Regina would have seen it that way at one time, but the last 11 years had changed her in ways that no one – least of all Regina – could have expected.

"He's still your son," Snow said softly. "You're not going to lose him, you know?"

"And that's where you're wrong," Regina sighed. When the other woman opened her mouth to speak again, Regina cut her off. "I don't need a hope speech, Snow. I know better than to believe in them."

When Henry came home from Diagon Alley, he pulled away from Regina's embrace and looked up at her with a glare on his face, and she knew that she had already lost him.

"You lied to me," Henry said in an accusatory tone.

"Henry …"

"You said you were my mother."

"I am!" Regina tilted Henry's chin up and made him look her in the eye. "I am your mother, Henry. Whatever that woman told you …"

He pulled away from her touch. "So I'm not adopted, then?" When Regina made no reply, he continued: "Snow White told me, you know. About what you did to her, and about my real mom …"

"I'm your real mother!" Regina insisted. "The woman who gave you up didn't want you. She's not your mother. I'm the one who raised you. I love you, Henry."

"No you don't."

His harsh words cut at her heart. Suddenly her knees were too weak to stand on, and she sank down into the sofa, choking back tears.

"They call you the Evil Queen, don't they?" Henry demanded, and she realized that he was crying, too. "You did awful things … someone like you can't love anyone. But my real mom is the Savior. She defeated you."

Yes, of course, that was what history would remember. The tender kisses, the shared dreams, the love they once felt for each other and the heartbreak and betrayal, all that meant nothing now. They were simply the hero and the villain, the victor and the vanquished. And everyone knew which side got to write history.

"Henry, please …"

But he ignored her and stormed away up the stairs, and she was left to collapse into tears. What a fool she had been, to think that she could have this. Happiness. Someone to love. She should have known it couldn't last. Wasn't the makeshift ring on her finger proof of that? Her mother's voice echoed in her head, but she tried to push the hated words away.

She had to pull herself together, though. So she wiped away her tears and headed into the kitchen to make dinner. It was almost therapeutic for her, layering noodles and sauce and cheese into the perfect lasagna, with just a dash of red pepper to give it some kick. It was labor-intensive and took hours to make, but she had found – to her surprise – that she actually enjoyed cooking the muggle way.

When the timer finally beeped, she pulled it out of the oven and hurried up the stairs, calling for her son.

"Henry! Dinner's ready. I made lasagna!"

There was no response. He must still be angry with her, she realized. Hesitantly, she knocked on his door.

"Henry, I know you're upset, but you need to come and eat something, okay?"

Still nothing. A horrible thought formed in her mind as she turned the doorknob and peeked into the room. The window hung open, and a rope made of bedsheets dangled down the side of the house. Henry was gone.

Far away, in a little apartment in London, the head of the Auror office poured herself a glass of wine and slumped down into her favorite chair. It had not been a good day at work, to say the least. Not only had the criminal she was chasing turned out to be far more dangerous than anyone expected and badly injured one of her fellow Aurors, but on top of that, he had disappeared without a trace just when they thought they were about to capture him. The only thing that saved this day from being a total disaster, Emma thought to herself, was that the wine was good. And with that, she took another swig and tried to forget about work.

Thinking about other things didn't help, either, though, because thinking about work had taken her mind off what today actually was: the 11th birthday of the child she had given up.

He would be Hogwarts-age now, she realized, if he was a wizard. She wondered what House he would be in and whether he would play Quidditch and what his favorite subject would be. But that was silly thinking. She gave him up in a closed adoption through a muggle adoption agency. Whatever path his life took, she would never know.

As she reached into her pocket and pulled out the little hourglass that she was found with as a baby, she wondered if her own parents were out there somewhere, wondering what had become of her. Doubtful. The muggles who found her hadn't recognized the Time Turner for what it was, but she had discovered it at the young age of eight, when she had turned it over in her hand and suddenly been transported back in time an hour. Wherever – or whenever – her parents were, she doubted she would ever find them.

All of a sudden, a knock on the door jerked her out of her thoughts. She rushed to open it. Outside was a boy, about ten or eleven years old, dressed in muggle clothes.

"Can I help you?"

"Are you Emma Swan?" the kid asked.

"Yeah, who are you?"

"My name's Henry. I'm your son."

And with that, he ducked under her arm and into the apartment, ignoring her protests that she didn't have a son. No matter how much she might have wondered about the child she had given up, actually meeting him was a different matter entirely.

"All right, kid," she said with a sigh. "I need you to tell me how you found me and what you're doing here."

The little boy – Henry – reached into his backpack and pulled out a letter written in green ink and an envelope stamped with the Hogwarts seal.

"I got this today," he said. "The lady who came to bring it to me, Snow White, she told me all about you and what a great hero you are. Is it true they call you the Savior?"

Emma folded her arms, suddenly put on edge by his use of the unwanted title. "So that's why you're here? To meet your famous birth mother?"

"No, I'm here because I need your help," he protested. "My mom is evil!"

"I'm sure that's not true," said Emma.

"She is!" Henry was frantic now. "Today I heard someone call her the Evil Queen! She's been lying to me my whole life!"

The Evil Queen? Those three words shocked her even more than Henry's declaration that he was her son had. She flinched involuntarily at the title she hated as much as she hated her own.

"Hang on a second," she said. "Regina Mills is your adoptive mother?"

Henry nodded fervently. "That's what I've been trying to tell you! My mom is evil!"

Emma sighed and shook her head. He was eleven years old, she thought. Of course he would see the world in black and white. But the woman she remembered was so much more than just evil, no matter how tragically their story had ended. She had said that she never wanted to see Regina again, but that was more than a decade ago.

"All right, kid," she said. "Let's get you home."

Regina came running down the front steps of a little house on Storybrooke Avenue and tearfully embraced her son.

"Henry! Where have you been?" she asked frantically.

"I found my real mom!"

Emma cringed at the boy's harsh words as he stormed off into the house. Regina looked from the slamming door to Emma, and all of a sudden their eyes met and Emma was looking into a face she had never thought she would see again. Twelve years later, both of them twelve years older, but all at once the memories came rushing back. Quidditch practice. Kissing in darkened school corridors. Holding Regina as she sobbed and drying her tears. Jets of light in the heat of battle, angry words flung like curses. The voice of a Seer pushing them to fulfill their fate-assigned roles.

"So it's true, then?" Regina asked. "You're Henry's birth mother?"

Emma couldn't quite figure out what to say, so she settled for an awkward "Hi".

A voice in Emma's memory whispered "I love you", only to turn around and scream "I hate you". But Regina's eyes were different now. Softer. For a moment, she looked more like the kindhearted schoolgirl Emma remembered. Then she gave a wry smile.

"How would you like a glass of the best apple cider you've ever tasted?"

"Got anything stronger?" Emma asked with a chuckle as she followed Regina into the house.

Meanwhile, a man dressed in dark robes hobbled up the front steps of the Hogwarts castle, supporting himself with a cane. The doors flung open before him, and he passed through the corridors in silence. The only sound came from the portraits, who spoke in hushed whispers as they recognized the famous Seer. Finally, he arrived at his destination, an office on the second floor, and knocked on the door.

A woman opened the door and greeted the intruder with a fearful expression, covering her pregnant belly with her arms as if to protect the unborn child within.

"Rumplestiltskin," she gasped out, taking a step backwards.

"Snow White. May I come in?"

"Why have you come here?" she demanded, stepping aside to let him enter the room.

He took a seat beside the fire and looked up at her with a creepy grin.

"Close the door," he instructed. "No one else must hear what I have foretold."

She nodded and did as he said. She might not like the Dark One much, but she had to respect his wishes, particularly if he was there to share one of his prophecies with her.

"That little thing growing in your belly …" he lifted his hand and pointed a finger at Snow's pregnant stomach. "That child will be the Savior."

Snow's brow furrowed in confusion. His words made no sense to her.

"Emma is the Savior," she protested. "You confirmed that yourself. How can my baby …?"

"Ah, but your baby is the Savior," he said, his smile growing deeper. He reached into the folds of his robes and pulled out a small hourglass on the end of a chain. A time turner. Snow's eyes grew wide with horror as she realized what he was suggesting.

"When she is born, you will send her back in time, and she will save us all. That is what I have foretold."