Rumplestiltskin and the Battle of Hogwarts
This story is set in the Ruins & Battles universe, around chapter 57 of Ruins of Camelot, but you need not have read that to understand what's happening. This is fun crack, pure and simple.
"They're good movies, Pop," Bae tried to tell him after Henry had announced that Rumplestiltskin had apparently agreed to not just one movie night, but three. He wasn't sure how that happened, but his son seemed perfectly alright with it. "Belle likes the books."
"Belle likes every book," he complained, trying not to groan. The effort failed, but Bae only grinned.
"That's not true. She told me that she hated the end of Romeo and Juliet."
"That's a play."
Bae rolled his eyes. "Same difference, Papa."
"Do you have any idea how ridiculous that phrase is?" Rumplestiltskin stopped to look at his son. "'Same difference'? It makes you sound like a moody teenager."
"I did spent a couple of centuries as one." His son gave him a cheeky smile. "Maybe it never wore off."
Only Baelfire could make light of his time in Neverland like that, even when it made Rumplestiltskin's stomach clench with guilt. How he'd never realized that his son was in that horrible place instead of in the Land Without Magic, he would never know. Nor would he ever forgive himself for it—even if the end result had been better than he might have expected. Bae wouldn't trade Henry for anything, Rumplestiltskin knew, which meant he kept his mouth shut and buried his guilt deep.
"Or it's your teenaged son corrupting you," he said as they walked into the living room together.
"I heard that, Grandpa!" But Henry twisted to grin at the pair from where he sat on the floor in front of the blu-ray player that Bae had insisted they buy. Rumplestiltskin had, of course, owned an impressive DVD collection from his days as Mr. Gold, but Bae had been right about the clearer picture in blu-rays. Belle certainly seemed to enjoy the thing, as did his son and grandson, and, well...Rumplestiltskin didn't hate it. Even if he wasn't going to admit that out loud.
"Are you denying it?" he asked his grandson, partially surprised by his own ability to jest with the boy whom he had once meant nothing to.
Henry's grin grew even wider. "Nope."
"That's my boy," Bae laughed, flopping down on the couch before giving his father a look. "C'mon, Pop, please tell me you're going to take your jacket off for this."
"And your tie," Henry added. "You really don't need a jacket and tie for movie night."
Rumplestiltskin sighed. "I suppose not." Pulling his jacket off and throwing it over the back of a nearby chair, he hesitated before untying his tie and tugging it free, too. The suits he wore were still a bit of armor for him, a bit of a way to keep the world at arm's length. But this was his family, and he didn't need to do that here, did he?
He did need to ignore the triumphant look Bae and Henry shared, however, otherwise he would have probably put the tie back on just to spite them. Instead, Rumplestiltskin walked over to sit down on the couch with rather more dignity than his son had displayed, and tried to hide how weird it felt when Henry plopped down between them, remote in hand.
"So, do you know anything about Harry Potter, Grandpa?" the lad asked.
"Not particularly, no." Rumplestiltskin shrugged. "Aside from what one can read on the inside flap of the book cover, anyway." Belle had inhaled the seven books in a few short weeks, and she'd convinced him to read one or two of the summaries, but it honestly wasn't Rumplestiltskin's type of book.
He prefered greater literary works, histories, or books on magic. Gold had read about law and case studies, as well as a few cheap westerns that he would never have let Regina know he owned, but children's fantasy had never been on the list for either of his personalities. Henry, of course, was looking at him like that was a gigantic travesty, and Rumplestiltskin braced himself for a long explanation and an even longer movie.
Movies.
Three movies in, Rumplestiltskin was more than a little flabbergasted—and more than a little glad that they were done for the night.
He twisted to look at his grandson. "Let me get this straight. We're three movies—or three books—in, and we still haven't seen this terrible 'Dark Lord'. And when we do, they're going to let children deal with him?"
"Well, Harry is the Chosen One," Henry pointed out.
"It's also a series aimed at kids and teens," Bae added, shrugging. "They kind of have to be the heroes."
Rumplestiltskin sighed. "Right now, I'm sympathizing with the potions master and the escaped convict."
"Snape?" Henry gaped. "Really, Grandpa? I can get Sirius—he's actually really cool—but Snape?"
"He seems the most logical of the bunch. Though Dumbledore is interesting—is he at least playing chessmaster behind the scenes?" Despite his attempt at seeming dispassionate, Rumplestiltskin needed to know. Henry was yawning, and it was definitely his bedtime, which meant they couldn't watch the fourth movie, but he found himself interested. A little.
Bae burst out laughing. "That's one way to describe him."
Henry, however, was having none of this. "You're not going to feel that way after the next couple of movies. Snape just gets more awful, and Dumbledore sits in the shadows, spinning his webs and—oh. Oh." The teen turned to look at his grandfather. "That's kind of like what you used to do, isn't it?"
Rumplestiltskin snorted. "Used to?"
"You're better now." Henry grinned. "Most of the time. You even took off your tie."
"I, uh, well…" He swallowed hard, trying not to feel self-conscious without the jacket and tie. He'd been caught by a few people without either during the last few months, but it always made Rumplestiltskin uncomfortable. So, he ignored that and concentrated on the other things Henry had said. "I'm trying to be better, yes. It's a process."
"The look is good on you, Pop." Bae's grin was casual, but Rumplestiltskin could see the depth of the feelings in his son's eyes. "Have to admit, after growing up like we did, it was really weird to meet you again in a suit and tie."
"Was it?" Wearing something else had never occurred to Rumplestiltskin; he supposed that he'd been Mr. Gold for too many years for that.
"Yeah, way better than the weird stuff you wore when you were first the Dark One. Even if the Neverland look was kind of cool."
"Kind of badass, you mean," Henry piped up.
"Henry!"
Both father and grandfather yelped the word together, which made Henry burst out laughing. After a moment, Rumplestiltskin allowed himself to chuckle. After all, he wasn't raising the lad, and it was entirely Bae's problem (and Regina's and Emma's, he supposed) if the teen decided to use inappropriate language.
"What?" Henry shrugged innocently. "It was."
The next night, Movie Marathon Number Two started, and Henry was having the time of his life. He could tell that his grandpa was still a bit uncomfortable, but not nearly as much as he'd been the night before. Henry even saw him smile kind of normally, which he knew was a lot for Rumplestiltskin. He actually hadn't expected to be able to talk his grandpa into watching one movie, let alone eight, but Henry hadn't gotten anywhere in life by not taking advantage of situations when things were going his way.
Besides, he was pretty sure that Grandpa actually was starting to like Harry Potter, even if he grumbled and complained whenever Henry hinted that he might be. His dad thought it was hilarious, and poked fun at his own father about it constantly. Henry kind of envied their relationship, mostly because it was everything he wanted to have with his dad. They were getting there, but his interactions with Baelfire couldn't quite compare to the easy way his father and grandfather knew one another. He was so happy for them both, even if he was a little jealous, because Henry knew that it hadn't been easy.
But Henry also knew that nothing worth fighting for was ever easy, so he was okay with having to fight for what he wanted. It kind of ran in the family—both families.
"So, what do you think of Voldemort now?" he asked as the fourth movie ended, figuring that his grandpa would have a fun answer.
Rumplestiltskin didn't disappoint, his lip curling up immediately in a sneer. "He's an amateur. And not terribly competent, either. Does he even have any sort of a plan? Did he ever?"
"He only terrorized the entire Wizarding World for years," Henry pointed out. Voldemort was like, the villain of fiction. How could his grandfather—a former villain!—not like him?
"So? That only tells me that his opposition was incompetent." Rumplestiltskin shrugged. "A theory that would seem to hold true if it took a baby to defeat him the first time around and then a teenager the second time."
"Harry was the—"
"Chosen One, yes, I've learned that over the course of the last four movies, thank you." The playful gleam in Rumplestiltskin's eyes made Henry stop when he might have replied hotly, and if he looked closely, he could see the smile starting to make his grandfather's lips twitch.
"You haven't gotten to the horcruxes yet, Pop," his own dad added. "They kind of complicate things."
"Well, something would have to, or I'd begin to wonder why it took so long to defeat this charlatan of a Dark Lord." Rumplestiltskin snorted. "Hiding inside a turban? I can hardly think of something less productive."
Bae laughed. "Yeah, that was a bit of a stretch, but it is a kid's story."
"It's really creepy to think of when you're a kid," Henry added. "I mean, the idea of a bad guy hiding in your teacher's hat, like inside the back of his head? That gave me nightmares for weeks when I first read it." He shrugged. "Then again, I was nine."
"It'd had given me nightmares, too, if I'd read something like that as a kid."
"Really?" Henry twisted to look at his dad. "I figured you were used to that kind of thing. I mean, you got drafted for the Ogre Wars when you were fourteen."
"Doesn't mean it wasn't scary as hell. I never did get to face an ogre, or at least not until we found them in the Enchanted Forest right after I got brought back, and believe me when I say that Voldemort-in-a-turban would have scared Ickle Baelfire. I promise."
"Will you tell me more about your childhood someday?" Henry asked, glancing between his dad and his granddad. "I mean, not now—we still have to watch the fifth movie and sixth movies tonight!—but maybe later?"
"Sure, kid. Just don't expect it to be castles and sunshine. Closest I got to a castle was when Pop burned down the Duke's castle to get the dagger." Bae's voice was light, but Henry couldn't miss the look he and Rumplestiltskin exchanged. It was loaded with emotion, and maybe an apology, but it was hard to tell.
"I read about that in my book, but there wasn't a lot about you guys, and I never got the chance to ask you, um, before." He still didn't like thinking about the fact that his dad had been dead for so long, but Henry was determined not to miss out on all the opportunities he'd let pass by last time.
Bae grinned. "I guess it's lucky for us all that I'm back, then. Now, you'd better put that next movie in before Pop chickens out."
"Really, Baelfire?" his grandfather drawled immediately. "Are you trying reverse psychology on me, or are you just being foolish?"
"Probably the latter." Bae's smile turned cheeky, but Henry got up to swap the disks, anyway.
"Can we make some more popcorn?" he asked as he pulled Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix out of its case.
"Sure, but I'm not getting up." His dad made a point of lounging back against the couch, so Henry turned to look at his grandpa.
"Can you make some with magic?"
"This from the boy who claims to have read that book how many times?" His grandfather cocked his head incredulously. "What is it that I always said?"
Henry sighed. He knew this one, of course, but he'd always suspected that it was a bit of a line to get people not to ask for too much. Except for the big things. He knew big magic didn't work like little magic. "Magic always comes at a price." He rocked back on his ankles as he waited for the disc to load. "But you're not the Dark One, now, so things are—"
"I'm different, yes, but the nature of magic isn't. What I am, the power I have, demands I live up to it...but that doesn't negate the price of doing foolish little things."
"Popcorn isn't really foolish." And Henry was willing to bet that it would be really cool to see.
Rumplestiltskin laughed. "No, but it's a waste of magic. Besides, magical cooking doesn't taste the same as doing it the hard way. It's much worse. Why do you think I got a maid?"
"Can Grandma Belle cook that well, then?" Henry remembered his grandpa doing the cooking every time he came for dinner, unless they ordered pizza, like they had tonight. Or Chinese, like last night.
"No." Bae snorted out a laugh. "She's terrible! Serves Papa right for bargaining for a noblewoman. Bet he never thought to ask if she could cook."
Henry had to laugh, particularly at the idea of his grandpa—back when he'd been scaly and scary, but entirely wrapped around Belle's finger—thinking that a knight's daughter could cook. Henry hadn't grown up in the Enchanted Forest, but even he knew that probably wouldn't be the case. Rumplestiltskin scowled, but he could see that he wasn't really upset.
"I didn't care. It was the principle of the matter, and the price of—"
"Magic, yeah, we know," Bae cut him off cheerfully. "Guess I'll go get that popcorn, then. Henry'll probably just burn it again."
"Hey! It's not my fault that the microwave here is different from the one at home."
"Sure it is." His dad ruffled his hair on the way by, and Henry decided that this evening was even better than yesterday.
Bae really had thought Henry was crazy when he proposed a family movie night, and he'd thought things were really upside-down when Belle bowed out of the invitation, smirking with Henry and saying that she thought it might do the "boys" some good to have some bonding time. But things really had turned out a lot better than he'd expected, and they'd even managed to remove some of the stick that his papa sometimes had up his, well, places he wasn't going to say in front of Henry.
Making a mental note not to tell Emma about Henry's newfound habit of swearing when he thought his mothers couldn't hear him (Regina was a better one to talk to about that, he thought), Bae took another sip of his beer. They had about twenty minutes left in the eighth movie, and his dad was freaking riveted. Of course, Rumplestiltskin would never admit it, but Bae could tell that he was enjoying himself. One of these days, he might even end up reading the books (Bae was pretty sure that Belle would dangle them under his nose constantly, anyway, going on about how much better they were). Even if he didn't, though, Bae was willing to call the movie night an unqualified success.
Glancing over at Henry, he caught his kid's eye and they shared a grin. Yeah, Rumplestiltskin might complain and grumble, but he was having fun. They did need to do this again, and maybe Henry's crazy idea of bringing David along wouldn't be such a bad idea. The poor guy really did need a social life that didn't include the sheriff's station or his infant. David and Pop do seem to get along pretty well, too, he thought, catching himself before he could start stroking his chin contemplatively. It was a bad habit of his, but his damn dad knew that tell, and Rumplestiltskin would inevitably ask what Bae was planning if he started doing that.
Henry, meanwhile, tried all too obviously not to snicker, having clearly seen the same thing. Damn clever kid. He's so mine.
Bae didn't try to stop this smile, though, and turned his attention back to the movie.
Twenty minutes later, Henry practically bounced off the couch in excitement. "So, what'd you think, Grandpa? Did you like the movies?"
"They were entertaining, yes."
Bae groaned. "C'mon, Pop, give the kid a bone. You don't have to be Mr. Suave Dark One now. That's Emma's job." He felt his face twist up. "Well, except for the 'mister' part. That'd be really awkward. Especially if, um—"
He cut himself off just in time, but that didn't stop Henry from piping up:
"Ewww, Dad, TMI!"
"Yeah. Sorry." He couldn't argue about that one. Not at all. How awkward was it that his and Emma's kid wanted them to get back together, anyway? Bae'd always been grateful for Henry's support in that matter, but Henry seemed a little determined to play matchmaker, sometimes, which was just...weird. Fortunately, his father came to his rescue.
"Leaving said awkward conversations aside...the movies tell a good story. I think it's incredibly irresponsible of the adults in question to leave the 'world saving' to teenagers, but...it's a good story."
"Kids aren't helpless, you know. I saved the day in Isaac's crappy world," Henry pointed out. "And I got Emma to break the curse. She'd probably still be stumbling around if I hadn't helped her."
That made his father laugh. "If your mother had been left to her own devices, lad, we'd all still be cursed. I didn't foresee you when I planned for what I thought was every eventuality, but I'm rather glad you turned up."
Henry grinned teasingly. "Even if it meant you're related to the 'heroes'?"
"Alas, that is simply a burden I must bear."
"Ouch, Pop. That's harsh." Bae couldn't help laughing, though. "You know, you're working on entering that club yourself these days, Mister-I-Have-Merlin's-Power."
Rumplestiltskin rolled his eyes. "No, thank you. I prefer to be neutral on that front."
"Good luck with that." Henry snorted. "You're becoming a hero, Grandpa, whether you like it or not. You've helped too many people to be anything else."
Clearly, his father didn't know what to say to that; Bae watched him flounder for a moment, his mouth opening and closing silently. Finally, he took pity on him and spoke up:
"I think you're doing pretty well, too. If you want me to be honest." His words, of course, only made Rumpelstiltskin look more flustered, but Bae didn't feel bad. Not at all.
"I think it might have been easier when you didn't," Rumplestiltskin admitted softly. Then he shrugged awkwardly, and this time it was Henry who came to the rescue.
"So, can we watch The Lord of the Rings next?"