Emma almost didn't come. It was silly to think that she and Regina could have … well, a friendship, or whatever this was. But when Regina answered the door, Emma smiled at her.

"Hey," she said. "I came to pick up my bug, and … you said you made an apple pie?"

Regina's eyes lit up, and Emma knew she had made the right choice. They sat at the table together, making small talk and occasionally lapsing into awkward silence. The pie was delicious, and not poisoned in the least, from what Emma could tell. She wasn't sure things would ever not be awkward between them, but this was … nice.

"Thanks for last night, by the way," she said, gulping down a mouthful of pie.

"Well, I couldn't let you apparate your way into the middle of oncoming traffic, could I?" said Regina.

Neither of them mentioned the kiss. That part of their relationship was long over, no matter how much they might both wish otherwise.

Later, after Emma had left, Regina's phone rang again. Recognizing the number, she groaned and reached to press the "ignore" button. But at the last minute, she changed her mind and answered it instead.

"Rumple, I don't want to hear any more about your plan," she said. "I've already told you, I don't want to win in a world where Henry doesn't exist, and even if I did, I wouldn't trust you not to double-cross me. If you want to change the past, you'll have to figure it out on your own."

The other end of the line was silent for a few moments.

"I'm sorry, who is this?" a woman who was definitely not Rumple asked. Regina inhaled sharply, recognizing the voice.

"Belle?"

"You're Regina, aren't you?" the other woman asked. "I don't understand. Why was Rumple calling you?"

Regina sighed. "You're a smart woman. I'm sure you can figure it out."

"He's doing something wrong, isn't he?" Belle's voice sounded heartbroken. "You said you wouldn't help him. That must mean you know what he's doing."

"You should ask him," said Regina. "Or don't you think he'll tell you?"

Belle let out a huff. "No. After everything you did to me, to everyone, you owe me this. Tell me exactly what he told you. Don't leave out a word."

A few days later, Emma found herself at Hogwarts, lurking in the entrance to Snow White's office. She fiddled with the swan necklace she wore as she waited for the young professor to arrive. Finally, she did, dressed in snowy white witch's robes, with her hair cut much shorter than Emma remembered it.

"Emma!" she said eagerly, embracing her. "You got my owl!"

Emma awkwardly hugged her back.

"So, um, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Snow held up a hand. "In a minute." Turning to the door of her office, she said the password ("cinnamon", apparently), and it slid open. "Why don't you come in?"

Emma followed her. The office was just what she would have expected from Snow, which is to say, about one lacy doily shy of looking like it belonged to Professor Umbridge. Well, that wasn't quite fair, Emma told herself. Even Professor White wasn't quite that tacky. She sat down nervously and waited. Being back here at Hogwarts, she felt like a student again, anxiously waiting to see whether she would get detention or not. How bizarre, to feel that way when she and Snow had been students here together.

"It's been a long time for you, hasn't it?" Snow asked, as if she could read Emma's mind.

"Yeah, being here again is kind of weird," Emma admitted. "Not bad, just … weird."

"You liked Hogwarts, though, didn't you?" she said. It wasn't really a question. Emma had loved Hogwarts. Probably every lost little boy or girl who grew up thinking they weren't important was delighted to find out just how special they really were. She didn't say any of that, though. She just nodded.

"So why am I here?" she asked.

"You're here because Professor Midas has asked me to offer you a job," she said.

Emma laughed. "Is it Defense Against the Dark Arts? Because I've already told you, I'd rather be out there defeating bad guys than teaching about how to do it."

"We have Mulan teaching that," Snow said, shaking her head. "You remember her, right? She was the year above you."

Emma nodded.

"Professor Midas wants you to teach Muggle Studies."

Emma didn't even bother to laugh at that, it was so absurd.

"He wants me to give up my life's work as an Auror to teach kids about how toasters work?" she asked. "Seriously?"

"Well, Professor Heller's book is a bestseller now," said Snow. "And you'd be surprised how few witches and wizards are qualified to teach Muggle Studies. You grew up in that world, Emma, you have a NEWT in the subject, and we all know you still spend more time there than among wizards. You would be perfect!"

"No," said Emma, standing up. "I'm sorry, Snow, but teaching isn't for me."

She didn't notice, as she walked away, that Snow was blinking back tears.

"She said no," Snow said dismally. "I worked so hard to get Midas to offer her the job, and she turned it down."

David held her in his arms. He was frowning, too.

"We knew it was a long shot," he said. "She already has a career of her own, and she's never shown much interest in teaching."

"Yes, but I wanted to have her close to us," said Snow. "To get to know her better now that we know she's our daughter."

"I know," said David. "Trust me, I do. But we have to respect her choices, too."

Meanwhile, in Muggle London, Tamara's phone vibrated in her pocket. After a quick glance at the name, she slipped outside while her fiancé was still asleep and answered it.

"Hello?"

"It's the Home Office. We have a new job for you."