Chapter Six-

A/N- I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone who has taken the time to read my story. It truly touches me that so many people (from so many places) are interested in what started out as nothing more than a bit of an out-there concept. Your interest and readership truly drives me to be a better author. Thank you.

Sakura Lisel- The OUAT chacters are pushing the whole 'magic is real' thing because accepting the idea that this 'world without magic' actually has magic that they didn't bring to it is something to get used to. So, as consequence, they're pitching Hermione and Ron the idea of their world like they would to any other outsider. Hermione and Ron are a little weirded out by this fervent pitching of magic (they are effectively thinking the same thing you were), but they ultimately have bigger fish to fry, so they let it go. Hope that helps!

"What is that?" asked Mr. Gold, shooting Hermione the most imposing glare he could muster.

Hermione was unfazed, "That, Mr. Gold, confirms that you are indeed my father." Both Hermione and Ron had achieved an almost sickly pallor; suspicion, even strong suspicion, was one thing…confirmation was quite another.

Even the air in the room seemed to go still. Everyone was utterly silent.

Once what Hermione had said had properly sunk in, Mr. Gold began to sputter indignantly, "That's impossible!" he scoffed, "There is no way that I could possibly have a daughter, especially not one so old as you!"

If she had a bit more energy, she might have found the will to be insulted.

The short-haired brunette (Hermione would need to find out her name) interrupted gently, "Just how old are you?"

"Thirty-two," she replied, her manner distracted.

The five captives all shared knowing glances before Emma finally spoke up, "Well, we- the people here, in this town- have only been here for twenty-eight years."

To their surprise, Hermione appeared unconcerned with this rather glaring contradiction. In fact, she appeared almost dreamy as she asked, "Have you ever heard of time travel, Mr. Gold?"

He did not hesitate to snort, "Nonsense."

Hermione shrugged, fingering the phial, "I don't know how magic works where you come from…but people in the wizarding community of this world have come up with multiple methods of time travel," she said, matter-of-fact, "It's heavily regulated, of course, but its use is not entirely unheard of."

Gold was livid. In a deadly, dangerous voice, he hissed, "This. Is. Impossible."

Barely sparing Gold a glance, Hermione asked, "The time-travel or just me?"

"Both!" he shouted, beyond furious, his face bright red, his carefully composed control quickly evaporating.

Ron gave him a half-quirked smile, "You sure about that mate?" he asked. In the Weasley family, at least, children were usually considered more 'happy accidents' than 'planned occurrences'.

Gold began to give him a look that could undoubtedly set fires…but then his face went blank. He began to chew his lip, looking remarkably like Hermione did when she was nervous.

Neal was the first to realize what was going on, his mouth forming a perfect 'o'. Gold didn't notice- his eyes went wide as he thought back to a night about a week before.

"Mr. Gold!" shrieked Lacey. He turned around, shocked, his cane held above his head. Shit. He hadn't really expected her to return after that disaster. She looked to the ground, seeing her paramour broken, bruised and bloody.

A wicked smile slowly crept across her lips, "You really are as dark as they say," she purred, her smile seductive.

A manic grin made its way across his features as he laid into the man on the ground once again, all for the pleasure of the woman now standing beside him. After all, if Belle wasn't coming back, he could at least stand to integrate himself with Lacey.

A few hours later, they were carelessly shutting the door to Gold's bedroom in his apartment above the pawn shop. They pawed at each other hungrily and ripped off their clothes indiscriminately; there was no pretense of foreplay, no semblance of romance…the pair seemed to silently agree that they were simply here for sex. With little preamble, the pair gave themselves over to mutual carnal pleasure.

Gold cursed himself relentlessly for his carelessness. He swore vehemently under his breath and proceeded to clear his throat, looking up at Hermione reluctantly.

"There may be a- ah –slight possibility of my being your father," he admitted grudgingly, ignoring his companions' startled looks.

Hermione was now perched on the bed, all of her fire gone. She just nodded grimly.

An almost palpable awkwardness settled over the room before Gold broke it by clearing his throat, "So…what do we do now?" It nearly made him gag, to sound so weak.

Hermione and Ron both laughed; short, humorless little chuckles. Ron was the one to speak up, "Hell if we know, mate."

Hermione sighed and rubbed her face, noting absently that dawn was beginning to creep over the horizon, "Alright," she said, exhaustion evident in her voice, "I think that it's high time we let you down," and with a flick of her wand, the five men and women landed in a moaning heap on the floor. Hermione winced.

"Sorry," she said, "There isn't really a way to do it gently."

All five seemed to accept her apology as they stretched their sore muscles and got to their feet. She waited patiently and conjured five extra chairs.

Her voice was worn and her smile a bit forced as she said, "I was hoping that we could have a more civil conversation before you left."

The group looked at each other and there was, eventually, a collective nodding.

Hermione nodded, pleased, "Please, sit," she said, gesturing to the chairs behind them, waiting for everyone to get settled.

"Now," she said, "I don't believe that we ever properly introduced ourselves…I'm Hermione Granger, and this is my husband, Ron Weasley. Of course, we already know Mr. Gold and Sheriff Swann…"

The thin, short-haired woman smiled, "I'm Mary Margaret," she said and proceeded to gesture to the well-built man next to her, "And this is my husband, David. We're Emma's parents."

Hermione's laugh was wan, "I'd call bollocks, but I'm really in no position to judge," Ron nodded in silent agreement. There was a long silence that was eventually broken by the sloppily good-looking fellow standing next to Emma.

"Ah, yeah," he said, scratching the back of his neck, wanting to be anywhere but there, "I'm Neal. Emma and I know each other from…" he trailed off awkwardly, looking to Emma for help.

Her voice was flat as she finished his sentence, "Sex."

Neal winced.

Gold chimed in, looking Hermione dead in the eye, "Neal is also my son."

Neal winced again.

Hermione felt as if she had suddenly forgotten how to breathe and bile rose in the back of her throat; this, she hadn't been expecting.

A/N- So, yes, I'm sorry that this took so long to get out (and, honestly, would have taken longer if I wasn't being kept up all night by my allergies), but I've been having to deal with a bunch of real world nonsense (like finals…and writer's block…yuck). In any case, my apologies…next chapter might take a while as well. Review!