PROLOGUE - ANTITHESES
Emma Swan lay in a large, green meadow, watching as sunshine and blossom twirled above her head. Slowly, a wide grin on her face, she levitated, rising to fly like the bird in her name, watching the fields and farmland grow smaller and smaller, a patchwork of summer crops and flowers. She breathed deeply, then sighed and floated down again. She never flew too high. No one could see her, no one in this world.
"Emma!"
Her mother's sing song voice echoed from the doorway of their large whitewashed cottage.
"What is it, Mom?" the eleven year old called. She ran home.
"Emma, you should wear shoes outside," her mother reprimanded. "What if there was a snake?"
Emma was dressed in denim shorts and a soccer shirt of her father's.
"I would hear it, it wouldn't bite me. I'd tell it I'm nice."
Snow frowned. She was not entirely sure how she felt about her daughter's ability to talk to Snakes. True, it had been many years since The Dark Lord had been vanquished, and heroes had shared his rare ability, but Snow remembered the war and could not help but find it a little unsettling. Only a very little, though. She kissed her daughter's wild blonde hair.
"You are right, my love. Animals are not to be feared." She produced something from her pocket.
"An owl came for you today."
Emma grinned widely. She did not even need to open the letter to know what it was. It was the summer after her eleventh birthday, and she was clearly magical. She knew all about Hogwarts. Her mother and father had told her so many stories. She giggled with excitement as she opened the letter, which lo and behold, invited her to take her place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on September 1st.
Her father sauntered into the room, chuckling at his daughter's wide eyes.
"I thought you said it was so obvious you'd get it, it'd be boring," he teased. Emma rolled her eyes at him; he pulled her into a hug.
"I'm so proud of you, Princess," he said. Snow joined the hug too. Emma wriggled.
"I'm not a Princess, I'm a knight," she protested.
David responded by grabbing her and wrestling her to the floor. Snow laughed as her husband and daughter pretended to murder each other, then went to finish up dinner.
Emma was oddly quiet at the meal.
"Mom?" she said quietly, looking up at Snow. "What if… What if I'm not in Gryffindor?"
Snow slowly finished chewing her mouthful, then caught her husband's eye. He nodded. "Well, honey, there are a few of things. Firstly, all of the houses are important and valid. There's nothing wrong with any of them. Secondly, trust the sorting hat. It knows your desires, what you want, and what you need. It'll put you in the right place. And also, you know the story of Harry Potter?"
Emma nodded eagerly.
"Well, legend has it that he chose his house. He was talking with the hat and he chose Gryffindor. So if that's what you really want, maybe that'll happen for you too."
Emma sighed. "I just… You guys were both in Gryffindor, you were head boy and girl! Everyone knows who you are. I know it was a while ago," her parents laugh at this, "but I want to be like you."
"Em," David said, taking her hand, "you are like us. But you're also you. We're proud of you even if you don't take the path we imagined for you. We've taught you to be brave and true. You're a wonderful person. So as long as you're happy, we're happy for you."
"I couldn't have put it better myself," Snow said, taking Emma's hand. "Now. Stop worrying and get excited again. Because tomorrow we're all going shopping!"
Emma and David groaned.
"All?" David asked. Snow rolled her eyes at him.
"Yes, all! Do you really want to miss one of the most important stages of Emma's life?"
David rolled his eyes. "The stage of her life is starting school, not shopping."
"This isn't just clothes shopping, David. She'll be getting her first wand! We can get her an owl-"
"A broomstick!" David announced. "That's what she needs."
It was Snow's turn to groan. "She has a broomstick."
"She has your old one. That's not the same. I've had my eye on the Nimbus Ace, it was just released."
"David, it costs-"
"We have the money," he muttered. Emma stared at him, eyes wide.
"You're really going to get me the Ace?"
David looked at Snow, his eyes begging for approval. Snow let out a grunt of annoyance.
"You know I can't resist your puppy eyes. Fine. But Emma, remember, this is a special thing. You cannot have everything you want, even if we can afford it."
"I know, Mom," Emma said, resisting the temptation to leap up and dance around the room.
"You're going to look so beautiful in your robes," Snow said. "You know, there's a new range…"
Emma gritted her teeth, keeping her mouth shut in case her mother changed her mind about the broomstick.
"Hey, Dad, can we go flying now?"
David looked outside. There was still an hour or so before sunset.
"Sure thing, kiddo. But we're getting the dishes first."
Emma scrambled to collect the dishes, using magic to send them flying into the sink.
"By hand," Snow told her.
"What's the point in being a witch if I can't do anything witchy?" Emma said crossly.
"You're underage. You're not supposed to use magic outside school."
"Fine," Emma said, starting to wash the dishes by hand. Her father came to help, surreptitiously washing almost everything with his magic. Emma giggled.
"Don't think I don't know what you're doing," Snow said to her husband, swatting him playfully on the shoulder. David drained the sink and threw Emma's sneakers at her.
"Don't forget the cloaking spell," Snow reminded them.
"Duh," Emma said to her, grabbing her broomstick and a worn out soccer ball.
Emma loved flying more than anything else. She flew like a wild thing. Sometimes she wondered if, in another life, she could be a dragon. She fooled around, doing stupid tricks to make her father laugh.
"Never let your mother see you do that," he warned as she dangled off her broom by one knee. Emma swung herself upright.
"D'you think I'll get on the team? Harry Potter was on the team in first year. I want to be a seeker like him. Or maybe a beater, 'cause you get to hit stuff."
David threw the ball at her; she caught it expertly.
"You'd make a decent keeper, too." Emma hurled the ball back to him. "Or a chaser. Your trouble, Em, is you're good at everything."
"Not book stuff," Emma pointed out. She had suffered through the elementary years of muggle schooling, achieving average grades in everything she couldn't use magic to cheat by. She was smart, she was just an active kind of smart.
They watched the sunset, continuing to throw the ball around until it was almost dark.
"Bath, then bed," Snow said as they traipsed inside. Emma assented without protest, disappearing upstairs.
"She's growing up so fast," David said a little sadly. Snow took his hand.
"She's wonderful," she said. David grinned.
"I know."
"Regina Mills, your flying is atrocious today!" Cora yelled at her daughter, freezing the child mid-air. Regina clutched the handle of her brand new broom, the black model, obviously. It had been delivered that morning and her mother had insisted she try it, but the increased speed had affected her posture and Cora was having none of it.
"You fly like a ruffian. Fly like a witch, a lady!"
Regina let her mother tie her up in vines and bring her back to the ground. She hardly ever protested any more. She hated magic. Cora thrust an already opened letter into her hands.
"Here. Thank goodness. I was beginning to think you weren't going to get one. It's not as if you've shown any magical promise."
Regina read the letter, hiding any emotion from her face. School. She was going to school. She was going to get away. She wasn't sure what her mother would have done with her had she not been magical. She'd given up wondering a while ago, she'd hidden it from Cora but several things had happened which suggested she had significant power. But a few years ago it had been a curious fantasy of hers to live in a world without magic. Maybe she would have been sent away from home, to live with muggles, kind, sweet muggles who would care about more than power and status.
She went inside and changed out of her flying clothes, trying not to be too hopeful. Cora had loved Hogwarts. That pretty much guaranteed it would be horrible.
"You will be in Slytherin," Cora said, sounding almost happy, "and you will continue my legacy. I was head girl, you know."
Oh, Regina knew. Regina heard about it often.
"Tomorrow we will go into town and purchase your supplies. I will not have you seen in anything but the best."
Regina gave a small nod.
"Speak, child! You are not mute."
"Yes, mother," Regina said. She looked up at the imposing woman, frighteningly beautiful, oozing control, power, magic… Cora Mills had been happy at Hogwarts. Regina decided she was determined to be happy there, too. And if Cora had been happy, Regina would just have to be like Cora. She could do that.
She stood a little taller, her stony, emotionless expression already long perfected. Cora noticed the tiny change in her daughter's posture and almost smiled. Perhaps the girl was learning at last.
They sat down to dinner, Regina eating in silence, Cora sharing her motherly wisdom from time to time - Sit up straight, Regina! Hold your glass by the stem, Regina! Look at me when I'm talking to you! Eat your food, don't push it around your plate like an imbecile!
Regina's father had not attended Hogwarts. He had been educated at Beauxbatons, a "slow, girlish school" in Cora's opinion. Cora had married him for his money and status. Regina remembered very little of him; he had died when she was five. She wondered whether he would be proud of her. He had been a kind man, but weak. He loved too much, Regina decided. As Cora was always saying, love was weakness.
"You are excused," Cora told Regina coldly.
Regina slipped away from the table and up to her room. She had been to Diagon Alley many times. Her least favourite part of it was the way her mother looked down her nose at all the other witches and wizards going about their business. Tomorrow it would be full of new students buying their supplies. Regina would act as if she was better than all of them. Maybe she was. She looked at herself in the large mirror on her bedroom wall. She was pretty, she supposed. Dark, like her father. She narrowed her eyes. She wanted to be scary, like her mother.
She channeled her anger, everything she hated about her life, until it boiled behind her eyes. The mirror shattered. She smiled wickedly, then sighed and waved her hand, repairing the glass. She was sometimes tempted to show her mother how skilful she had become, but she always stopped herself. Because she would be showing her mother to make her proud, and Cora Mills would never be proud enough. She would say something critical, she would find a way to be angry, or educational, and Regina would end up feeling smaller than ever. So she kept her magic to herself. She did not want to be special.
Cora gripped her daughter's wrist, yelling "Diagon Alley" into the huge hallway fireplace. Regina held her nose and squeezed her eyes shut as the floo powder whisked them into the magical neighbourhood. They landed neatly on the mat of a coffee shop, stepping briskly out of the way to let other travelers through. Cora bought herself a coffee; Regina sat primly on the chair opposite, watching people arrive.
Her favourites were the families. Most of them brought a child her age, some were older. There were groups of teenagers, older wizards and witches… Everybody was so magical. Cora liked everything to be neat and orderly, but the fashions of the wizarding world were crazy and colourful. Regina grinned as a particularly adorable looking family crashed onto the welcome mat. The father rolled to his feet, holding out a hand each to his wife and daughter.
"Don't stare, Re- But bless me, if it isn't Snow White!" Cora exclaimed, rising to her feet and striding over to the smaller woman. Regina's smile disappeared, replaced by a fierce glare. Cora's enemies were her enemies, there was no avoiding it. Snow's daughter was her age, scruffy and skinny with a mess of golden hair. She glared back.
"Snow White-Swan, now, Cora," Snow breathed. "A pleasure, as always." She gripped her husband's hand. Emma looked between the adults. David gave Cora a tight smile.
"And who is this charming young lady?" Cora asked. Emma wanted to growl at her.
"This is our daughter, Emma," David said.
"Lovely. Regina, come here!"
Regina hurried to her mother's side.
"This is my daughter, Regina."
Regina and Emma sized each other up. A part of Regina wished she didn't have to hate the girl. She looked interesting… She stomped on that part, hard.
"It's nice to meet you," she said smoothly, devoid of all emotion.
"And it's just wonderful to meet you too," Emma said, imitating the formal tone. Snow gave her a look. David grinned. Regina's cheeks coloured and her glare intensified. Cora looked as if she wanted to blow something up.
"Well, we'd better go. Lots of shopping to do!" Snow said, grabbing her family and hauling them through the door.
"Who was that?" Emma asked as soon as they were outside.
"That was Cora," David said.
"We were at school with her," Snow added.
"Some say she's evil," David teased.
"I think she's just misunderstood," Snow said kindly. "But… Watch out for her. Seriously. And her daughter."
"Regina… Her eyes were so mean," Emma said a little sadly.
"Anyone's would be, growing up with Cora for a mother," David said.
"Stay away from her, Em. Cora has a bit of a vendetta against me, I wouldn't want her to take it out on you."
Emma shrugged. "Whatever. Can we go to the broomstick store now?"
David grinned. "Race ya," he said.
Regina watched the family charging down the street, weaving in and out of bemused shoppers. Cora tutted. Regina copied her.
"I trust you know better than to associate with people like that at school?"
"Of course, mother," Regina said.
"Good."
Regina followed her mother outside and into the first store - robes. She stood like a doll as she was dressed in the most stylish school robes they had, then changed back into her neat dress, jacket, and boots. Cora purchased her a deep green scarf.
"Because I am sure you will be in the right house," Cora said firmly. Regina forced herself to think the same thing. She would be in Slytherin. There was no other option.
After a lengthy argument with her mother about flying her new broom immediately, Emma bounced into Ollivander's, grinning happily. David was carrying the broom, which was taped firmly into its box.
Emma twirled around, then high-fived Mr Ollivander (a thin young man with thick spectacles who was greatly amused by Emma's greeting) and asked for the "coolest" wand he had. She calmed down a little and he looked her up and down.
"Under all that joking, I believe we have a true hero here," he said to Emma and her parents. Emma's eyes widened.
"Really?"
Ollivander winked at her. "I say that to everyone. But I have a wonderful idea for your wand."
He handed her a box. She opened it to find a sleek, almost silver wand. It was long.
"Thirteen inches," he told her. "Silver birch and phoenix feather. Rare, very rare."
Emma gasped as a warm glow rippled through her body.
"It's a bird, like me," she murmured.
"Yes, I think that will do very nicely," Ollivander said. "It's been waiting a long time for you."
Emma grinned, then at a nod from her father, slid the wand into the specially designed loop of her belt.
Ollivander sighed as the Swan family was replaced by a domineering mother and her clone of a daughter. Finding wands for children so controlled by their parents could prove very difficult.
"Ms-"
"Mills," Cora supplied briskly.
"Ms Mills, it might be easier if you left your daughter here. Choosing a wand can be a lengthy process, perhaps you can attend to something else?"
"Nonsense. If a wand deigns to accept Regina, it will be a momentous occasion. I must witness it."
Ollivander wondered if her speech could somehow be construed as motherly affection. He hoped so.
"As you wish," he said tiredly. He looked at the girl.
"What is your name, my dear?"
"Regina," she told him.
"Regina. Pretty name."
Regina did not answer. Ollivander watched her deep, dark eyes. He had a feeling they hid many secrets.
After six wands producing no reaction whatsoever, Ollivander was beginning to think the child did not have magic after all. But there was something about her. She was so calm, so emotionless. He wondered if she was embarrassed, but she did not seem to be. She seemed… Sure. Confident. He climbed up a ladder to a dusty part of the shop, running his hand over ancient boxes, dormant, powerful, complicated wands. He always sold them, just as his father had. He took pride in knowing, like with the last girl, when one was ready to go. He paused.
He looked at the space. There was another wand beside it. He slipped out the box and looked at the wand. Applewood. Incredibly unusual, a bizarre experiment to use the other feather. Shockingly powerful. There was a note on it.
"Do not sell unless under extreme circumstances."
Ollivander selected another six wands, wands that should suit the girl. There was nothing, nothing at all. Not with dragon heartstring (which her mother's wand had been) or unicorn hair (a common choice for girls of her type). Twelve rejections. Cora was beginning to fret. Even Regina seemed a little stressed. Ollivander frowned at the Applewood wand. There was no harm in trying, he supposed.
He put it into Regina's waiting hand. Several things happened at once.
There was an explosion of bright, gold light. It threw Cora from the shop, the door slamming and locking behind her. And Regina's grip tightened around it as if it was her lifeline. Ollivander thought he saw her eyes glow gold for a second, too, but he told himself firmly he had imagined it. The light died down. Regina gasped as it flooded into her body, filling her with power and excitement. She smiled.
"It's this one," she said. Ollivander nodded.
"That it is."
He opened the door to an enraged Cora.
"This is ridiculous, you are a sorry excuse for a wandmaker and I will be taking my business elsewhere-"
She looked down at her grinning child.
"It found me," Regina said happily.
"I hope you don't expect me to pay you for your appalling service-"
"On the house," Ollivander said quickly, before the mother could deny the girl her wand. Cora grabbed Regina's shoulder and escorted her outside. Regina turned back. She couldn't say anything, but she smiled at the man, then at the wand still in her hand. It was beautiful.
Emma pulled her wand out of her belt.
"What is it, honey?" her mother asked.
"Nothing, mom, I just… I thought it did something."
"Wands can't do magic by themselves," Snow told her.
Emma shrugged. "Must've imagined it then."
TWO WEEKS LATER
"EMMA!"
"I'm coming!" Emma yelled, pulling on her favourite plaid shirt (it belonged to her father and almost reached her knees) and her favourite jeans and stomper boots. She grabbed her backpack and Brian's traveling box. Brian was her kitten, grey with green eyes, fluffy and adorable and full of hatred for anyone that wasn't Emma.
"BRIAN!" Emma yelled.
"Why did she call him Brian again?" David asked.
"Because she found him almost drowned in the river, and decided that made him a bad-luck-Brian. I don't know. Something she saw on muggle TV."
Emma charged downstairs, kitten-on-shoulder.
"We're late," Snow warned. David laughed.
"Everything's in the car. Let's go!"
They piled into the SUV; David drove at breakneck speed and in the end they made it to the station with plenty of time. Emma watched as her parents piled her belongings onto a trolley and pushed it through the station for her. As they approached the entrance she stopped suddenly.
"Wait," she said.
"What?" Snow asked gently.
"I… I don't want to go," Emma said quietly.
Snow pulled her into a hug. For once, Emma didn't wriggle.
"Yes you do," Snow whispered. "It's going to be amazing, exciting, incredible. You're going to make so many friends, you'll have forgotten all about us in less than a week."
"Never," Emma said, trying not to cry. David grabbed her and pulled her into a headlock, ruffling her hair.
"You're gonna love it, kid." Then he lifted her up and hugged her tight.
"Hey, dad, I'm too big," she protested. He kissed her nose.
"Never," he told her. "Are you sufficiently embarrassed that you want to go, now?"
Emma laughed as he set her down.
"I guess," she said. "But you'll write to me? Every day?"
David laughed. "We promise. Not long letters. But something."
"And you'll send me food?" Emma asked her mother, sounding genuinely worried.
"Hogwarts has great food. But yes, I will send you some as well."
Emma smiled. "Okay."
She gripped the handle of her trolley and charged at the wall. Her parents followed; they emerged on platform 9 ¾ in a swarm of other families. The train was waiting. Snow and David helped Emma load her stuff in, then found her a seat. David pressed some money into her hand.
"For snacks," he said with a wink.
"Be good," Snow told her, kissing her cheek.
"Yeah, yeah," Emma said, self conscious now there were other children around. After a final round of hugs, her parents finally left her alone and went to wave from the platform.
Regina thanked her driver as he put her trunk on the trolley, then pushed it herself, through the station and to the appropriate platform. She was not nervous. She told herself so again and again. She took a deep breath and let the wall swallow her, then another as she had to push through the crowd. A porter helped her with her belongings; she carried her owl, Diaval, and found a place to sit where she would be left alone.
She looked out of the window. She thought she recognised the faces of some of the parents, tears in their eyes as they waved a child goodbye. Regina pretended she thought they were stupid. It was silly, they shouldn't be upset. She realised who they were. The people from Diagon Alley, the ones who'd fallen down, who her mother didn't like. Regina let out a huff of breath.
A prim looking blonde approached the door to her compartment.
"Do you mind if I sit?" she asked, polite but confident.
"Not at all," Regina said, flashing a fake smile. "I'm Regina."
"Kathryn. The pleasure is all mine." Another smile, equally fake.
"No, I assure you," Regina said smoothly.
"Are you in first year?" Kathryn asked. She asked with her eyebrows, too.
"Yes. And you?"
"Yes… And that's your owl?"
"Diaval."
"How interesting," Kathryn said, thinking it wasn't interesting at all. She didn't even know what it meant.
"Thank you," Regina replied, fully aware that Kathryn couldn't care less about her owl.
There was a pause. Kathryn fiddled with her skirt, then remembered this was unladylike.
"Which house do you want to be in?"
"Slytherin," Regina said firmly. "They are by far the most ambitious."
"I agree! I hope we both get in," Kathryn enthused. "It will be very nice to have a friend. If… if you don't mind?"
"I would love to be friends."
"I think we will have a lot of fun together."
"I do hope so."
Regina leaned back into her seat. She had been right. Everybody here was exactly like her mother. Including her.
"Hey, these seats taken?"
It was two boys, scruffy, in jeans, definitely newbies like her. They were already sitting down, followed by a stylish brunette.
"Killian, Neal, Ruby," said the taller boy, grinning at Emma.
"Emma," she replied. "You better be planning to pay me back for invading my compartment."
"I'll buy you a frog," Neal said eagerly.
"Shut up, dork. She meant me. I'll buy you two."
Emma laughed; Ruby with her.
"Do you know them?" Emma asked. Ruby shook her head, grinning.
"We were looking for seats. I don't think they even know each other."
"Yes we do!" Killian protested. "Twenty minutes is more than enough to form a lifelong friendship. Like Potter and Weasley. They met on the train."
Ruby rolled her eyes. "It's a legend, guys."
"Cool legend though," Emma pointed out. "And at least mostly true."
Killian chuckled. "Don't tell me. We've a budding Miss Granger in our midst."
"Granger? Hell no. I'm gonna be like Harry. I'm the hero," Emma said, making a silly face. The others laughed.
"I think Neal is Granger," Ruby commented. Neal threw a book at her. She caught it expertly, which prompted Emma to ask if she played Quidditch, which in turn prompted a lengthy discussion about the upcoming world cup.
"... And now for the sorting ceremony!"
Emma stood with her new friends, glad she had them around her.
"See you all in Gryffindor," she said as they split off to line up. Killian and Neal saluted her; Ruby punched her playfully on the arm. Professor Lucas held up the sorting hat. Names were called, students were distributed…
"Regina Mills."
Regina walked slowly towards the stool, putting the worn hat on her head, trying not to think about how many people it had touched.
Hello, Regina. Mills. Like your mother.
Hello..?
Don't be nervous, dear. No one else can hear us.
I'm not nervous.
As you say. You have a complicated mind, dear. Attributes from all four houses. On the surface, it seems obvious. But your heart is far truer than you normally reveal. You have the makings of a great hero. So I would suggest Gryff-
No! Not there. I have to be in Slytherin.
Have to? Says who?
I thought I could choose.
It is true, I always consider the wishes of the individual. But this does not sound like your choice.
It is.
One day, you will have to be your own person, Regina.
She will disown me if I am not in Slytherin.
The hat refrained from asking her if that would be so bad.
I will leave it up to you, then. Gryffindor is where you will grow to be happiest. It is my strong recommendation. But fate alone cannot determine your future, so if you choose-
I choose Slytherin.
Very well.
"Slytherin!" the hat called.
"That took a long time," Emma muttered to herself. "I would have thought it'd be a sure thing."
Neal, Killian, and Ruby had all already been sorted into Gryffindor. Emma was the only one left. She approached the hat apprehensively, but her nervousness was for nothing.
I could feel it from a mile away, Swan:
"GRYFFINDOR!"
A/N: Let me know what you think! Chapter 2 will race through more time highlights, Chapter 3 will bring us to the "present day" with Emma and Regina in their final year - if this outline suits your wishes? Remember, reviews are love.