Chapter 1: Father and Son
Azkaban Prison (a.k.a. a desolated island equivalent to Alcatraz in the North Sea)
Most people wouldn't consider Azkaban Prison prime real estate. The island was located in a horrible place—unless you were planning on drilling on the North Sea (which actually wasn't such a bad idea). But even then, housing workers here probably would be against every employment code in some form or fashion.
Note to self, looking up international law protocol to having drilling operations in open water.
At least that's what Rumpelstiltskin assumed when he saw the place. The goblins were a little surprised when he said he wanted to buy the place.
"Why?" The goblin asked.
Revenge. That was why. Of course, he didn't tell that to the goblin. Instead, he mentioned something about it being prime real estate and then threatened them to a life full of toilet cleaning if they didn't comply.
All lies. Save for the toilet cleaning.
It really was for revenge. And while he tried not to get that emotional, when it came to his business decisions. This was an exception.
Sirius Black needed to pay. He had just realized last night while sharing cake with his son that this was actually his first birthday that he celebrated.
"Well, not exactly the first birthday." Harry tried to backtrack.
Gold rolled his eyes. He had seen Petunia's memories after all. "Harry, I'm not stupid. And what did I say about lying?"
"Well, Hagrid made a cake last year. Though it was smashed and it didn't taste as good as this one." Harry said before he added "And this is the first time I've gotten really nice presents."
"The broom was nothing." Gold waved his hand.
Well, he had actually bought a lot more than the broom. Like more clothes, a computer, some video game consul, and a lot of magical stuff that was deemed to be the cool thing to get kids these days. But the broom was what his son gravitated towards the much. Even after Gold told him he could teach him a spell to fly.
"That sounds cool…" Harry said, "But…"
"But what?"
"Quidditch." Harry said.
Quidditch it turned out was some wizard sport. From what Harry said it was sort of like fottoball and his son was apparently quite good at. He was apparently a star player at that stupid school of his. That didn't' surprise Gold, before he maimed himself he had been apt at kicking a football himself. And Bae had loved that old ball. If the school would've met Gold's standards, he definitely would've loved to see his son play.
As it stood now, there was no way in hell harry was going back to Pig Pimples or whatever it was called.
Okay, he knew it was called Hogwarts. He knew because he was foreclosing on the damn place. He was thinking of making it a home for rare gastropods. Of course, he should think about reforming the school and help the magical community become a much more educated place.
However, the Dark One wasn't one for bettering society. And with all the people he turned to various gastropods throughout the years, he thought they deserved a home other than the abyss of nothingness.
Although, that castle that seemed to be violating all the rules of home ownership with the pictures the goblins showed him. So poor maintained with that dangerous forest right next to it.
He wondered if he could hire one of those people on HGTV show to fix the school up. Yes, Flip or Flop: Hogwarts Edition. He was sure the place would have to be halfway torn down, probably filled with termites and the likes of it.
This was what he was thinking of when Harry explained quidditch because quite honestly, the Dark One couldn't keep up with all the rules. Part of it he understood. The part that reminded him of football and then he started to get sad.
He had taught Bae how to play football. His son had loved kicking that old worn ball all the time with him, pre-Dark One curse.
He still kicked it even after the curse, even though Gold could give him plenty other forms of entertainment. And even to this day, Gold kept that old ball hoping that one day a miracle would occur and he would find his son.
He would find Bae, he told himself. After he settled everything for Harry. He had already started reconfiguration the charms on the blood globe. It was a long arduous process, but it would work.
Or at least that's what he told himself.
Truth be known, there was a part of him that wondered if he'd ever find his beloved boy. It had been so long and he didn't even know if he would recognize him.
He had thought August Booth was his child.
He wanted to use some brain bleach for that moment for his stupidity. Booth didn't even have the same eye color as his child.
He couldn't believe he had been such a stupid fool. He really was softening up. But it wouldn't happen again, he assured himself.
The blood globe would make sure of that.
He couldn't help but smile when he got to Azkaban. The place was positively dreary. It pleased the inner demon in him greatly. The desperation that he felt around the dreary place gave him the giggles.
It was times like these he thought he needed to see the bug.
It was all part of his curse. Feasting on the negative. Azkaban was like a Dark One's paradise. Forget about building housing for a possible drilling operation, he should build his summerhouse here on this island.
Of course, Belle and Harry probably wouldn't fare here that well. It was kind of macabre, the prison with it's resemblance to a medieval looking fortress. In fact, the cells reminded Rumple slightly of what he endured when he let Snow White and Cinderella lock him up.
"I know it's quite ominous looking," The ministry official said as they stepped onto the island.
"It's a prison," Gold said rolling his eyes, "You can hardly expect it to be Disney World. Though, I would've thought there would've been something against cruel and unusual punishment."
"This isn't the United States." The official said aghast that Gold quoted the eighth amendment.
Gold laughed. "This is the U.K. Most people would say it's a lot more civilized than America. No death penalty. Actual gun laws. Universal health care that actually makes sense and works."
The ministry official muttered. "That's the muggle U.K."
The way he sneered made Gold appalled. He then noticed the man shivering.
"Cold?"
It was a bit nippy on the island. And it just seemed to get colder. Honestly, it was a little depressing. Well, it would've been depressing to him if he wasn't the Dark One.
"It's this place." The bespectacled official said. "All part of the prison package."
"Lovely," Gold said.
"The guards like it this way." The ministry representative said. "They're not like you or me. Dementors."
"Dementors? Seriously, you have soul suckers here?"
"Well, they don't actually suck out souls. Except in the most severe cases."
Gold shook his head. These wizards actually had the gall to think they could control such beings. Seriously?
Well, to be fair he sent one of their cousins after Regina, but that was different. He actually had the power to control such a creature. Dementors were different than wraiths in the fact that they were almost in a sense like humans, except they fed on dark emotions and sucked out souls.
Maybe he should throw Cora at a dementor.
No, he'd still to stare at shell Cora.
Eek!
"Sir, do you wish to tour the place?"
Gold smirked. "I'd like to visit one particular cell if you don't mind."
"I don't think you have…"
"Authorization?" Gold said, "Are you forgetting I bloody own the prison."
"But the ministry…."
"I want to know what cell Sirius Black is in. We have business to talk about."
"Business?"
"Yes," Gold said looking at the man. "Well, now?"
The official told him the cell number. "No one visits that maniac. Not after what he did to the Potters. Well, save for maybe those who come to mock him."
"And I'm sure you don't reveal who those are who mock him?" Gold asked.
The ministry official shook his head. Still, Gold didn't believe him so he turned him to a snail.
He'd be fine. He'd let him live at Hogwarts. Though, the prison could always deal with an honorary snail of it's own.
The dementors would like a pet.
Tapping his new cane Gold walked over towards Black's cell only to find a large dog sitting in it staring wistfully at the ceiling.
Rumple wasn't stupid. He had lived there hundred years and had seen every magic trick there was to mankind, including men who pretended to be dogs.
Black didn't seem to get that the game was over though, at least until Rumple forcibly caused him to release the spell.
When he saw Black he instantly wanted to take his heart out and crumple it to itty bitty pieces and then use the ashes as dementor food.
He was trying to look like his son. Or at least how he always imagined Bae to look as an adult if he was covered with filth and was severally underweight and in desperate need of a haircut. Yeah, he was really surprised he ever thought August Booth was his son especially after looking at Black.
Those eyes. Eyes just like Milah's. Grey. The color of the water in the coldest part of the winter. He also inherited his ex wife's height. But the hair, the cheekbones, everything else they were his.
Black looked just like his boy. All grown up.
Oh, he would not be fooled again.
As he told the man before trying to rip out his heart and imagine when Rumple found out he couldn't. A few more magical scans afterwards and he was shocked.
Sirius Black was his long lost son.
All thoughts of revenge were gone from Rumple's head at that moment.
His boy.
His boy. He had spent almost three hundred years looking for, was right there sitting in a prison cell. Dazed. Confused. And obviously not right.
With a wave of his hand those damn bars disappeared as Rumple rushed over to his son. "Bae."
Bae stared at him dazed. He didn't even flinch.
No, this wasn't right at all.
Rumple knew his son. "Bae, it's me. It's going to be okay, son."
The man shook his head. "This…no. Not. Real. Finally lost it."
"How long have you been here?" He heard himself asking.
But he knew. He had been in here for almost eleven years. Ten years of his beautiful son's life gone for what…he was sure that Bae would've never betrayed Harry. His son wasn't like that.
Bae was the bravest and most loyal person Rumple knew. Someone had framed his son!
Another person of the die or turn into a gastropod list.
There were so many people on that list.
First thing first, they needed to get out of here.
"Son," Rumple said.
Bae just stared at the wall. Half in and half out of consciousness.
"Bae." Rumple snapped again.
Bae still stared at the wall.
"Baelfire?"
This time his son looked at him.
"Grab my hand, son. Let's get out of here."
Bae reluctantly grabbed his hand. Yep, he was not right, but Rumple didn't care. He knew if his son had any sense of himself, he'd never grab his had. But at that moment Rumple didn't care. Instead, he poofed himself and his son back to the hotel.
The room was thankfully empty. Belle and Harry had gone to spend the day at some museum. Rumple was supposed to meet them for lunch, but now that wasn't going to happen. Instead, he was going to start the long process of getting his oldest back to the picture of health. And trying to figure out, how on Earth did Bae end up here of all places?
He knew he wasn't going to get any answers today. There was just too much damage. Just physically and mentally. It was good he was the Dark One, because he was going to need all his magic to get his son back right.
"What on Earth is that smell." Belle's voice said a few hours later as she and Harry entered their penthouse suite.
"It smells like medicine," He heard Harry comment. "I thought I was almost through with potions."
Gold snorted under his breath as he carefully stirred his potion.
"Rumple?" Belle called.
"In the kitchen, dearie." He called out to them.
"Is someone dying?" Harry asked.
"Why don't you watch some television?" He heard Belle tell his youngest. "I think Dr. Who should be coming on soon."
Harry sighed. "I get it, adult time. Just tell him I'm not drinking anymore of those calming draughts. They're nasty."
Rumple had to force himself not to laugh. Harry had a calming drought every night. Most of them he couldn't taste, unless things were serious. Which they had been for awhile.
Belle came in the hotel's kitchen a minute later. The place was ridiculously large, almost as big as his kitchen at home. Yet, unlike the Victorian style pink house, the kitchen in the hotel room was ridiculously modern. "Dr. Who just started. You have an hour to tell me what's going on. Somehow, I feel like it's going to be a lot longer than an hour. You didn't show up for lunch and you didn't text. And obviously, you didn't spend all day on that prison island you said you were buying. And your making potions, not for Harry because while he still isn't at the peak of health you've been waning him off of his potions."
"Astute as always." Rumple wondered if he should clap.
"No, I just want answers. And you won't give them to me if I don't directly ask you what I want."
Those books have definitely been working.
Maybe a little too well.
Okay, he was not being nice. He really did like the fact that she was becoming less of a pushover in their relationship. It was sort of attractive, at least when she wasn't trying to manipulate him into forgiving Moe.
Which she hadn't done in awhile.
They sort of dropped the whole Moe thing. Especially when she heard he plead not guilty. He guessed for now, they'd wait till he had his trial before they kept up that argument. Although, he had caught Belle mumbling under breath that her father was an asshole (not the actual word she used, but she did say that Moe French needed to be punished).
"Rumple."
"I found him." He said.
She raised an eyebrow, "Found who?"
"My son." He said, "I found my son."
"Your son…I know you found Harry but…"
"Bae." He said, "I found Bae."
"Oh, Rumple that's great news!"
"It's a little bit more complicated than that."
"I get that things are going to be rough but…"
"Belle, it's not that."
"Then?"
"I sort of broke my son out of jail."