Chapter 13: Letting Go
This was ridiculous, Harry thought as he adjusted Ford Gold's bowtie. But Hermione had insisted he'd do this.
"You need to get out." Hermione snapped. "Both you and Emma. You've been brooding way too much."
"I've been out," He said.
He had been outs lots to law libraries to his law office, to the courthouse, to his makeshift dungeon. In fact, he had been trying to avoid being at the hotel room as much as possible.
He couldn't bear looking at his wife.
She didn't know him and she was damn broken.
Hermione knew as much.
"Look, Harry," She said. "You are not doing yourself or Emma any favors by not trying."
"Trying to do what? I've been spending on my free time trying to find something to make her remember."
And it seemed that his only option at this point was true love's kiss or a true love's kiss potion. And God knows, the only one that possibly might exist in this world was Storybrooke and no one, save for Regina, knew where that God forskaen town was. As for having an actual true love's kiss with Emma, he doubted it would work. She didn't know him, and God knows there was no way she'd fall in love with him, let alone anyone right now. His wife seemed traumatized.
And why wouldn't she? She had just been locked up for the better part of a year, no thanks to his traitorous friend.
Which reminded him, he really needed to pencil in some Ron torture tonight.
"Harry," Hermione said. "Getting Emma's memories back isn't going to resolve what happened to her."
"I know that." He said not knowing how and if he could even remove the sadness that now seemed to be part of his wife's appearance.
"You need to talk to her, get her to go out." Hermione said. "This event is a good excuse as any."
"It's a gala, Hermione." He snapped. "People will be all over her since we're the so called 'guests of honor'. She doesn't need that."
To be specific it was a gala that the Massachusetts Innocent Project held to raise money to help exonerate people who were in circumstances like Emma. Rumple had gotten notice that they wanted him and his client to attend. They were apparently being honored.
They even wanted him to give a speech, which he thought was absolutely ridiculous.
"It won't be so bad," She said. "It's for a good cause too."
"You just want to go because you have a date." He snapped.
"I—Graham, just said he wanted to meet Emma. It's hardly a date."
"Uh, huh." Harry said. His friend kept denying that the mysterious private investigator simply known as Graham was anything more than a friend. And she kept mentioning that he was way too old for her, but he noticed the way her cheeks flushed when she mentioned him.
It was cute.
And he was glad that Hermione was interested in someone other than Ron in the Box.
"Honestly, will you think about going?"
"I will if Emma agrees to it." He said.
"Agree to what?" Emma said seemingly popping out of nowhere.
And she agreed. Harry had mentioned constantly that she didn't have to come to the event if she didn't want to, but she did. But he still shook his head thinking this was a bad idea as there was a knock on the door.
"Come in, dearie." He said expecting it to be Hermione but instead of all people it was Emma.
She looked absolutely lovely, though he could tell she was still a wreck. She hadn't been eating, he thought, noticing how bony her wrists were and the gold dress clung looser than it should. While he couldn't see the dark circles that had marked her face, he knew that they were hidden under thick layers of makeup. Though he could see the bandage that covered that botched tattoo that her cellmate had given her.
Still though, she was a sight for sore eyes.
"You clean up well, Gold." She said.
"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Ford, love." He said.
She sighed heavily, "Old habits die hard. As you can tell I'm ready. Hermione left a while ago. She said she was picking up her friend. Are you sure you're not jealous?"
He rolled his eyes, "Please."
Emma smirked, "I didn't know, I thought—"
"Thought what, love?" He asked.
"Nothing," She said, "It's none of my business anyway. I hope I don't embarrass you tonight."
At this Harry started laughing.
"What?" Emma said.
"You could hardly embarrass me, love." He said, "Trust me on that."
Galas were a lot like royal balls, Rumple thought as he walked into the ballroom where the event was being held with Emma around his arm.
Much like royal balls were full of subjects trying to suck up to royals, galas were filled with poorer attorneys trying to suck up to the partners with the larger more renowned firms like his.
And of course, Emma was the poster child of the evening.
Everyone was cooing over her and sympathizing about the ill begotten treatment she got. He could've sworn he saw Emma flinch a couple of times which wasn't good which was why he got her to go to the dance floor with him.
Emma seemed more than a little surprised that he could dance. He guessed he should've been too. Last time he was on the dance floor he had been fourteen and stepped constantly on Parvati Patil's toes. However, now that he had access to his memories he had the Dark One's finesse on the floor. Which, he guessed, was nice. Especially for Emma's feet.
She shook her head at him. "So where did you learn to dance? I didn't think it was part of evil lawyer training school?"
"No, they don't teach it in law school, but they should." He said, "I actually picked it up through the years."
Through the years meant the many royal balls he had to crash.
Emma nodded. "I'm sorry I freaked out a little bit out there, I wasn't expecting so much attention. No one gave a rat's ass about me when I was arrested, Gold."
"Ford," He corrected.
She rolled her eyes as he twirled her around the floor.
"You'll pick it up eventually," He said.
"I haven't yet," She said. "Thank you for getting me out of the hotel though, this might be a little much but—I need to get back to the real world again. Try to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life."
"Any idea what that might be?" He said.
She shrugged. "I really haven't given much thought to it, but I do admit I like this cause. It sort of makes me want to become a lawyer, and you can bet that's something I never thought I was going to say."
"You'd be a good lawyer," He said.
She rolled her eyes. "Really, I got noxious with all that brown nosing. Isn't part of practicing law, brown nosing?"
He shrugged. "There's no question about brown nosing on the bar exam. But really, Emma, if being an attorney is what you want you'll be great."
"Thank you," She said as the song ended and another started. "Uh, Ford, you'll never know how grateful I am for everything."
"There's nothing to be grateful for," He said looking at her. A part of him wanted to pull her closer to him, but he couldn't. She seemed so fragile. So instead, he asked if she wanted to dance again.
She looked at him, "Don't you have to give a speech?"
He sighed heavily, "And there you go ruining the fun out of everything."
She smiled, "I'll dance with you again after you make your speech. Deal?"
He nodded.
There was the speech and then the dance, and then another. He could've been in Emma's arms all night. And he thought, maybe, just maybe she liked being in his. As they took the town car back to the hotel she looked at him and said, "Thanks, Ford. I actually had fun."
"You said my name!" He said.
She rolled her eyes, "Don't get used to it, I'll probably revert back to Gold soon enough. You got my mind off of things for tonight though, and actually got me thinking of maybe what I could have in the future."
"Being a lawyer?" He asked.
She nodded, "That was a good speech. You know, after what Bernard did, I was so disillusioned. I really appreciate everything you've done for me."
"It was nothing," He said. "Really. Nothing."
"Ford," She said. "Just let me say thank you, please. You've been nothing but a perfect gentleman, and it's good to know that men in the world like you still exist."
He gave her a weird look. There was something about what she just said, but he couldn't quite pinpoint it "Emma?"
She shook her head. "You don't know how much I appreciate it, having my life back. Or a chance to get my life back. I know I have nothing now, but one day I want to repay you."
"I already told you, I'll get my cut from the civil—"
She cut him off. "I don't mean money, Ford."
"Emma."
"I want to return the favor at some point," She said.
"I'll just settle with another dance." He said.
She rolled her eyes, "Don't be ridiculous. I didn't see Hermione this evening, you think she's okay?"
And there it was, the topic effectively changed.
"I imagine she's with this Graham fellow."
Emma looked at him, "Does that bother you?"
He gave her a bewildered look, "What? Of course not, I'm not interested in Hermione."
I'm only interested in you.
However, he definitely wasn't going to tell that to Emma. She was beyond broken, he was surprised that she had been willing to dance with him that night. Besides, there was no way she was interested in Ford Gold. He was just an old man. His wife needed someone younger, more vivacious, someone better than either version of himself.
Emma gave him a look, "Okay, then. I guess we'll be going up to the room then."
"You don't believe me," He said as they walked towards the hotel room.
"Your feelings aren't going to change regardless of what I believe." Emma said as they walked onto the elevator.
Well, she was right about that, Harry thought. His feelings hadn't changed that much for Emma.
"That's true," He said. "Emma, I—"
He stopped himself.
"What is it?" She asked.
"Nothing," He said as the elevator opened to their suit and he saw a crying Hermione.
"Hermione?" He said.
Emma looked at him, "Go to her, I'll be in my room. I won't bother you two at all."
"Emma."
"She needs you." She cut him off leaving him to walk into the living room seeing Hermione still clad in her evening wear with what appeared to be the entire mini-bar near her. Some of the bottles had been opened, but not all of them.
"Do I need to turn Graham Cracker into a slug?" He asked his best friend.
She rolled her eyes, "No. No slugs. Though, he might deserve it."
"Want to talk about it," He asked.
She shook her head. "Not really, just drink with me."
He looked at the tiny offerings the hotel had. "This is really sad, you know. For such an expensive place, you'd think they'd stock better liquor."
"It gets the job done," She said with a shrug. "How did the event go?"
"It went." He said, "She doesn't remember if that's what you wanted to ask."
"I didn't expect her too, but I'm taking it you had somewhat of a decent time. You're not scowling—as much."
He shrugged. "It was okay. We danced a couple of times, it's just—"
It was just that she wasn't coming back to him. It seemed like no matter what he did, it wasn't enough.
Hermione looked at him, "Take a drink. It will make you feel better."
"I don't drink cheap liquor."
"You need something. I've had three of these little bottles and it's starting to make me feel a little better about being played with. God, I have such horrible taste in men."
"No you don't," Harry said.
"But I do," Hermione said as she grabbed another bottle. "First there was Victor, who while looked like a catch had a weird obsession with my toes and couldn't even say my name right."
"Overall, he wasn't a bad guy though." Harry said handing her another bottle—he might've not been able to get as drunk as easy, but that didn't mean he didn't understand his friends pain.
"True," Hermione said. "But I was stupid for dumping him, I thought Ron of all people might grow up a bit."
"Now that crush was stupid." Harry said, "And then dating what's his face to make Ron jealous again."
"Not helping, Harry." Hermione said as she sloshed down another drink.
He shrugged. "I'm just being the honest confidant. But I really thought your taste improved since you decided to give up on Wormtail the II."
"Ron isn't like Peter Pettigrew," She said. "I mean, I don't think I could ever be friends again with him. Not after what he did to your wife, but it's not like he thought he betrayed us. He really did what I think he thought was right, as deluded and as horrible as it was."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Please, no Ron defending. You of all people have endured enough emotional abuse from the man to last a lifetime."
She nodded. "That's true he fucked around with both our lives. Look at me, I got weepy because a guy I barely know stood me up."
"Oh, you seemed to Graham well enough." Harry said. "You've been going out with him since we got here and what's that been—a few weeks."
"Five weeks," Hermione stated. "And I wouldn't say it was going out. We had coffee a few times, hooked up some. It wasn't serious."
"You hooked up with him?" He asked because this was Hermione of all people. The thought of it made him feel a little sick. Not because he had any feelings of that kind for his friend, but he viewed her as the closest thing he had to a sister.
"I'm not a prude, Harry." She said rolling her eyes. "And before you ask, I'm on contraceptive pills and spells."
He rolled his eyes. "I wasn't going to ask, you're sensible like that."
She laughed when he said sensible as she slurped down more liquor. "Sensible, you know everyone calls me that. But I think I'm the least sensible person I know. I should've known it wasn't going to work out."
"Hermione you couldn't have known."
She shook her head. God, she looked like a mess, he thought. Whoever this Graham guy was, he tore her up. Hermione had makeup running down her face. Her slick bun was falling apart and her blue cocktail dress looked rumpled.
"It's going to be okay," He said when she didn't speak right away. He was trying to be comforting which was something easier said than done for the Dark One. "I think you've had enough I'm going to zap this mess up and get you to bed."
She shook her head as he performed the cleaning spell. "Harry, you can't say that. I—I don't know what's wrong with me. I should like guy's like you, not losers like Ron and Graham."
"Hermione," He said. "I—"
He was cut off guard when her lips touched his.
It wasn't a horrible experience, he'd give her that, at least until she tried to push her tongue in his mouth. As soon as he possibly could, he pushed her away.
"Hermione."
"Hmm," She said. "You didn't like it, damn it. See, this is why I can't get a good guy."
"It wasn't bad," He said. "I think though, we need to get you to bed."
"Bed," She said. "Yes, bed. I'd like that."
He rolled his eyes. He hoped she wouldn't remember any of this in the morning for his sake as much as hers. He knew a sober Hermione would be mortified if she had one ounce of recollection of what happened. "Do you think you can stand up?"
"Of course I," She almost fell down.
Harry rolled his eyes as he picked her up.
"Carrying me over the threshold?" She said, "You're a true gentleman."
He shook his head as Hermione clung to him. He noticed she was wearing some perfume; she had really gone all out for this Graham guy. He sort of wanted to turn him into a slug or at least deck him.
Hermione kept laughing throughout the minute walk to her bedroom and before she opened the door she kissed him again.
Again, he brushed it off. He really was hoping she wouldn't remember this night. He was about to transfigure her evening gown into pajamas when the hurling started. Needless to say, by the time he was done cleaning up, he had to transfigure his tuxedo into a robe and pajamas.
And as soon as he opened the door, imagine to his surprise when he ran into Emma.
"Hey," She said looking at him.
"I didn't think you'd still be up, love." He said looking at her. Like him, she had changed into her nightclothes.
"Can't sleep," She said.
"Didn't the doctor give you pills for that?" He asked.
"I don't like to take them," Emma said. "I—I don't know how much you read from my transcript, but when I was arrested they thought I was on something. I was never one for drugs, and I just—I just."
"You want to prove a point," He said.
"No, I don't want to be in a haze again." She said. "I'm going to go to the living room now though, I'm hoping some late night talk show and warm milk will get me to sleep."
"Mind if I join you?"
"Um, I thought you and Hermione—"
He rolled his eyes. "Emma, Hermione is asleep."
"Uh, okay, then." She said, "But you don't have to. Really, Mr. Gold."
"For the last time call me Ford." He said. "Mind if I make the milk for you."
She shrugged. "I guess. I'm going to turn on Letterman, meet you in a few?"
He nodded as he went into the kitchen in the hotel suite mixing the milk with a dash of cinnamon that she knew she liked and a dose of sleeping potion he had on hand.
He hated dosing Emma like this, but he could tell his wife hadn't gotten sleep in days. At least he knew what all the dirty cups in the dishwasher were from now.
"Cinnamon?" She said when he handed her the milk.
He shrugged. "Someone told me it was good on everything."
"It is," She said. "I never thought to put it in the warm milk though. To be honest, I find warm milk to be disgusting."
"I do too," He said as they stared at the TV.
He noticed she barely touched the milk and sighed. "You're not even trying to sleep, are you?"
"I can't." She said, "I know that I'm now free, but there is so much crap I still have to deal with. And the future, well, this can't last forever, Gold."
"Ford." He corrected again.
She nodded. "Yeah, sorry about that. Thought I got the hang of it this evening, but obviously not."
"I'm hoping I can reach a decent settlement soon," He said. "I really don't think the state wants to go to trial. I mean, locking up a minor in jail with inadequate representation, it's the sort of story the government wants to bury as fast as possible."
"I know," She said. "That's why I really want to do something with my life. And I think tonight, I figured out what that was."
"So you were serious about the lawyer thing."
"I was." She said, "I—I want to get my shit together and as nice as you and Hermione have been, I don't think I can do it here."
"Emma, you can do whatever you want here. Like I told you—"
"Ford," Emma said. "You are being generous. Beyond generous. You're a good man."
He laughed. Him good. Maybe the Harry Potter part of him had once been a good kid. The golden boy of Gryffindor. God knows, Dumbledore's portrait always tried to plead to that part of him whenever he thought about destroying said portrait—which was lots these days. But Rumple, himself, hardly believed he was good.
"Don't do that." Emma said.
"Do what?"
"Self depreciation," Emma said. "You helped me a lot, Ford. And you deserve to be happy. So does Hermione. So do I."
"And you don't think you're happy here?"
"I need to move on," Emma said. "I want to get into school, get my own place. Try to live a little. Here it's like I'm waiting for something."
"The settlement," He said. "It won't take that long."
Truth, be known he could've had the settlement done at any time. He had just been hoping to buy some time to find some miracle cure, but he knew that was going to be next to impossible unless he could somehow get access to a true love kiss potion.
Which meant he had to get into Storybrooke, which was next to impossible given all the circumstances.
She sighed heavily. "That's the thing, I don't want to wait. I think it would be better for both of us if I could just settle."
"You have no money," He said. "I don't mean that to be ugly, but you can't afford to live on your own until you get that settlement, Emma."
"I know." She said with a sigh. "That's why I'm going to start looking for jobs tomorrow."
"No," He said. "If you get a job now, you'll put school on the backburner and you don't need that. I'll work on getting that settlement done. Start looking for apartments."
"Seriously?" She said.
He nodded. "If that's what you want. If you need help though, you can always give me a call."
" Thank you. I really think it's for the best." She said as she finally took a sip of the milk. A second later she slumped over the sofa asleep, probably for the first time in months.
Harry sighed as he picked his wife's unconscious body up to carry her to her room. He didn't want to let her go, but at the same time maybe it would be for the best.
For now, at least until he could reawake her, and to that he would need her help to get access to Storybrooke.
End of Part 1.