Disclaimer: I own a wand from the Wizarding World of Harry Potter (It chose me), but not Once Upon a Time or any of these characters.

Author's Note: This idea has been bouncing around my head since Season 1. I finally broke down and started writing it. This is a complete departure from Season 1. Basically I kept the premise from the Pilot and let my imagination wander. It will be a long. There will be angst. Rated T for now. All errors are mine and mine alone. I don't like to share.

At the end of the row

I stepped on the toe

Of an unemployed hoe.

It rose in offense

And struck me a blow

In the seat of my sense.

It wasn't to blame

But I called it a name.

And I must say it dealt

Me a blow that I felt

Like malice prepense.

-Robert Frost

Henry

Sunday October 23rd 6:18am

Henry woke early and looked at the clock.

He smiled.

It was Sunday and his mom...

No. She's Regina, the Evil Queen.

She wouldn't be up for another forty-five minutes. That gave him time to prepare.

He pushed back his covers and leaned over the side of the bed, retrieving his school bag from the tangled mess of shoes and clothing that he'd taken to tossing on the floor when he arrived home from school. Regina would chew him out for not cleaning up, but he didn't care. Contention had been their new normal. It was just easier to keep the status quo.

Henry emptied his bag, tucking his school books under his bed and out of site. Then he got to work gathering everything he'd need. The first (and most important) thing that went in his bag was the book. Next, a pair of jeans and long sleeve polo that Regina bought him for the coming winter. He added a few pairs of underwear and an extra ball of socks, just in case.

Crossing the room, Henry opened his desk drawer and reached for the small wooden box that contained his savings; eighty-seven dollars in tens, fives, and ones. He folded the money up and tucked it inside the socks he'd already packed.

The last items he collected were stored together in the small front compartment of his bag. They included: a printed confirmation for two bus tickets (one adult and one child), directions to Rockland, Maine, Ms. Blanchard's credit card, and a scrap of paper that contained a very important address in Boston. He'd already memorized the location, but it couldn't hurt to have a hard copy on him.

He briefly considered packing his school identification card, but decided against it. If he was stopped by a police officer, he didn't want anyone contacting Regina.

Henry surveyed his bag. He would need to smuggle some food and water from the kitchen, but that could wait until later. He zipped up the bag and tucked it beneath his desk. Now he was ready. He climbed back into bed and waited for Regina to knock on his door.

"...And I don't want you to forget, you have an appointment with Dr. Hopper at 5 o'clock," Regina said as she leaned across the dining room table to pick up his empty cereal bowl. "Do you want me to drive you? I can pick you up from library before your session."

"It's okay. I'll take my bike," Henry answered quickly. Regina raised an eyebrow at him. "It's a nice day," he added with a shrug.

Regina sighed and headed toward the kitchen. "Let me at least make you lunch."

Henry followed her, pushing down the guilt that was slowly building inside of him. It was harder to see her as the Evil Queen when she made him sandwiches. But at least now he didn't have to sneak the food out of the kitchen.

Regina set his bowl in the sink and went to the refrigerator. "So, what is this big project that's due tomorrow? And why haven't you mentioned it before now?"

Henry watched as she set salami, cheese, and mustard on the island. "We're learning about different types of energy. I have to look up how solar panels work."

Regina stopped spreading mustard and looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "That's a forth grade assignment?"

Henry felt his ears redden. "Yup," he lied. "Ms. Blanchard says it's really important because we're using up all our natural resources."

Regina scoffed, but went back to her task. "Ms. Blanchard isn't paid to lobby alternative fuels to ten year old's." She sighed again. "And haven't I told you not to wait until the last minute to start your assignments."

Henry frowned, "I've been busy."

"You've been procrastinating," she stated. "You're getting older Henry. You need to be more responsible." Two slices of cheese went onto the salami already on the sandwich. "Apple or carrot sticks?"

"Carrots," he replied with more bite than intended. He turned to open the fridge so she wouldn't comment on his tone. He reached for a small package of carrots and two bottles of water, setting them on the counter.

Regina finished assembling his lunch and placed it into his Tron lunchbox. "What do you want for dinner tonight?"

"I don't know. Anything's fine." His smile was more of a grimace, but thankfully, she didn't seem to notice.

"Call if Dr. Hopper can't drive you home after your session. You can leave your bike at his office. I don't want you riding after dark."

"Okay," he said as he grabbed his lunch box and rushed out of the kitchen. "Bye!"

"Henry, what have I told you about running in the house!" If she said anything else he didn't hear it as he grabbed his school bag and pulled open the front door. Once outside he let out a deep breath.

Phase one was complete.

Henry stopped his bike in front of the 'Welcome to Storybrooke' sign. He knew he wouldn't be stopped - Regina took him to Portland every forth of July to watch the fireworks - but still the invisible line gave him pause. If it was anyone else trying to leave...

I can cross because I was never cursed.

He held his breath and moved forward, his bike rolling quickly over the line and away from Storybrooke. He pushed hard on the pedals and didn't look back.

Rockland was five miles from Storybrooke and he wasn't sure how fast he could get there on his bike. As he raced along the shoulder of route 22, he let himself imagine that he was a prince, riding a mighty steed, on a great quest to save a princess.

If he thought about it, he sort of was.

Henry was starting to panic. The ride to Rockland had only taken him 45 minutes, but he hadn't anticipated any difficulty in finding the bus terminal. It was now 11:38. The coach to Boston would be leaving at noon and he still needed to pick up the tickets. He double checked the address. He was at the correct intersection. This had to be the right spot, but all he saw was a large marina parking lot and a hotel... or maybe that was an apartment building. He contemplated asking someone for help, but decided that was too risky.

He brushed away the beads of perspiration that were working their way down the side of his face. He felt conspicuous sitting on his bike with his sweat stained shirt and oversized backpack. It was unseasonably warm for late October and he'd already removed his light jacket.

Henry maneuvered his bike toward the parking lot, looking for a place to lock it.

The sidewalk was busy with locals and tourists returning from early morning fishing trips. Henry wove his way through the crowd and spotted a rack near the marina office. He settled his bike into a free space and wrapped a brand new, thick bike lock through both tires and the strap of his helmet. He didn't want to carry that with him to Boston.

As Henry stood up, he noticed a blue bus pulling into the parking lot. He let out a relieved sigh. The lettering on the bus was faded, but he could make out 'Concord Coach Lines' clearly on the side. He checked to make sure his bike was secure and took off at a jog toward the bus. It stopped not far away. So he waited and watched as the door hissed open and the driver stepped off. The man wore a pale blue uniform and walked with a slight limp that reminded Henry of Mr. Gold. The driver opened the bus' side panel and stepped back as several disembarking passengers shuffled forward to claim their luggage.

Henry followed the man through a poorly marked entrance that could only be the bus terminal ticket office. Once inside, he surveyed the room spotting the ticket window on the far wall. The line was short with just a few people ahead of him.

He looked around for the bathroom, spotting it quickly. It was tucked into the corner of the room, a line forming from the passengers that had just left the bus. He watched them and smiled when he spotted a tall, thirty-something, brunette woman.

"Next!"

Henry stepped forward and handed off the ticket confirmation that he'd printed.

The middle-aged woman behind the window accepted the slip, glancing down at Henry. "You're alone?"

Henry shook his head. He turned and pointed at the tall brunette who was just stepping into the bathroom. "That's my mom. She asked me to get the tickets."

The woman looked uncertain as her eyes fell to the growing line behind Henry. "Look kid, she'll have to come over. I need the credit card she used to buy the tickets."

"Oh, she gave it to me." Henry passed Ms. Blanchard's credit card through the small opening at the base of the window, a large smile plastered on his face.

The women hesitated for only another moment before proceeding to print his tickets. With the passes in hand, Henry quickly scampered off before the woman could question him further. He stepped outside and waited for the driver to return to the bus. He felt a little bit bad that he'd wasted the money for the second ticket - especially after using Ms. Blanchard's credit car to pay for the adoption website - but Henry had known they would question a ten year old traveling alone. He was also pretty sure Ms. Blanchard would understand, at least once she remembered who she really was.

A short time later the bus driver returned, calling out, "Now boarding for Logan International Airport with stops in Waldoboro, Bath, Portland, and Boston's South Station."

Henry tucked the adult ticket out of sight into his jeans pocket and joined the queue. The tall brunette had returned and he ducked behind her in line. Smile in place, he stepped onto the bus and handed off his ticket. The driver took it without question, allowing Henry to pass him.

The bus was cool and Henry thought the air smelled vaguely like the couch in Archie's office. He found a window seat halfway down the isle and removed his backpack, leaving it on the seat next to him. Leaning back into the cushioned chair he smiled. Phase two was now complete. He would be in Boston by 5 o'clock. When he didn't show up for therapy, Dr. Hopper would probably call Regina to ask if she had kept him home. But it would be too late. He would be in Boston by then and she'd have no way of knowing where he was. He'd already deleted all his emails and the bus tickets were purchased from a computer at the school's library. He was free and clear. He smiled at the thought and took out his storybook, opening to the page that explained the curse.

"Final call for Logan International Airport," the driver reported over the buses PA system.

A moment later Henry felt the vehicle lurch forward.

Phase two was complete.

Finally, he was on his way.

After a few minutes he took out his lunch and ate as the bus sped away from Rockland. Soon the tinted window's offered nothing but Maine's scenic coastline to hold his attention. He let his mind wonder.

He wondered if the Evil Queen chose Maine because it looked like the Enchanted Forest. He wondered if his birth mother already knew about the curse. But most of all, he wondered what Emma Swan looked like.

I hope she has my eyes.

Henry got off the bus at Boston's South Station. He found his way outside easily enough and spotted several cabs parked along the terminal exit. He stepped forward to the closest one and knocked on the window.

The driver looked over and rolled down the glass. "Yeah?"

"Do you take credit cards?" Henry asked. Thanks to the lunch that Regina had packed, he hadn't spent any of his cash, but he had no idea how much this cab ride was going to cost.

"Where to chief?"

"36 Kneeland Street."

The ride was shorter then he expected. He paid the driver with a ten and two ones, figuring he shouldn't use Ms. Blanchard's credit card anymore if he could avoid it. The door to Emma's building was locked, but there was a grid of call buttons next to the door. He knew her apartment number was 205. His pulse sped up. He was about to meet his birth mother; a real life fairytale princess who would bring back all the happy endings.

Henry stepped up to the door and pushed the button that would buzz Emma's apartment.

No answer.

He tried again.

Still nothing.

Henry frowned. He hadn't expected this. Where was she? It was 5:30 at night one a Sunday. Regina was always home at this time. He let out a frustrated sigh and plopped down on the stairs that led to the building.

He only had to wait for a few minutes. A tall man with a briefcase came by and unlocked the door. Henry sneaked in behind him and hung back in the lobby examining a wall of mail boxes. The man stepped on an elevator and Henry cautiously followed, waiting for the doors to close. Once he heard the elevator begin rise he hit the call button and waited.

Two minutes later he was standing outside Emma Swan's apartment. He was about to knock when he noticed a door bell. Pushing that instead, he waiting. The bell was loud enough to hear in the hallway, but no one answered the door. He couldn't hear any movement within the apartment.

At least he knew she wasn't ignoring him.

He shuffled down the hall back to the elevators. He sat down on the floor, his eyes fixed on Emma's door waiting for her to come home.

At 8:15pm a woman in a tight pink dress stepped off the elevator. She was carrying a small box and limping slightly. Henry had seen Regina walk like that after walking all day in heels.

Despite the limp, the woman was down the hall in a flash. He caught sight of her face as she turned to face apartment 205. Scrambling to his feet, he called out to her, "Emma?"

The door closed before he got the word out and he waited to see if she'd open it again, but she didn't. She hadn't heard him.

Henry grabbed his bag and raced to the door.

He rang the bell twice.

She took only moment to answer it. Expecting someone her own height she paused and then looked down at him. "Can I help you?

"Are you Emma Swan?"

"Yeah. Who are you?"

"My name's Henry." He stated with pride, "I'm your son."

He wasn't expecting the door to be slammed in his face.

[to be continued]