True Identity

Chapter 4

Helen sat at the kitchen table, the early morning sunlight streaming through the windows. Tears cascaded mercilessly down her face. It had been four months since Severus Snape had come into her adult life. Four months in which she had fallen in love with the wizard. This was not supposed to be how it all ended. Her day had been a roller coaster ride beyond her wildest dreams. She had received word that Voldemort had been defeated. She knew she had to tell Severus everything as soon as she got home from work. It couldn't wait another day. He was free to leave now that the war was over, as was she. She knew he would be as eager as her to get back to the Wizarding world.

She had arrived home from work to a miraculous spread of food. He had swept her into his arms and had kissed her passionately. She had tried to resist but the feel of his masculine body pressed up against hers had been enough to make her melt. Still, her nerves had been a mess, and his attentions weren't making what she had to tell him any easier. She had tried to start the conversation several times, but each time he had insisted it could wait. Eating was more important. Kissing was more important. Whatever it was, it could wait. He had swept her off her feet that night, culminating in the most incredible and romantic night of lovemaking she had ever experienced in her life. And for a brief moment in time, lost in his embrace and the feel of his body, she had forgotten her worries. They had been connected in a way that transcended all rational thought, defined only by the mutual ecstasy they had shared with one another.

Now, as she sat at the small kitchen table alone, she wondered if he had sensed the war was coming to an end. He had been so urgent. Not needy, exactly, but he had acted as if the world might end tomorrow and he wanted to make sure they had one night of perfect passion before it was all over. And now it really was all over--the war, their affair, life as she had come to know it over the last nine months.

Quill in hand, she thought about how to write the words she hadn't had the courage to say. While she would never regret the night they had spent together, she did regret not standing her ground and telling him the truth first. She would rather he had known who he was making love to instead of believing he had made love to the Muggle named Helen Garnell that she had become. Wiping her tears away, she began to write.

Dear Severus,

There's something I've been meaning to tell you. There's no easy way to say it, no words to cushion the impact. I am not who you think I am. I am not a Muggle.

I never meant to deceive you. When you called me Helen that first day, I had every intention of correcting you and telling you who I really was, who I really am. But then I looked into your eyes. They were wary, yes, distrustful even. But they weren't filled with disdain and loathing, two things I was accustomed to seeing when I looked into your eyes. God forgive me, but for once you didn't hate me, and I couldn't bring myself to tell you my true identity.

I know why you were here. Albus didn't tell me, but it doesn't take a genius to figure it out. You were in hiding, as was I. The war is over now, though. Voldemort has been defeated and we can both return to the Wizarding world. I tried to tell you earlier this evening, but you said whatever it was, it could wait. This evening was the most wonderful of my life. My only regret is that you thought you were making love to the person you believed me to be, not the person I truly am.

I know that you will be leaving. I know that you will probably be gone when I get back from work today. I can only hope that you will find it in your heart to forgive me for deceiving you. It was selfish of me, I know. But the deeper I fell in love with you, the more afraid I became that if you knew who I really was, you wouldn't love me anymore. The thought of seeing that look of loathing in your eyes was more than I could bear.

Please give me the chance to explain this to you in person. Please give me the chance to tell you who I really am. My feelings for you will not change. I wish I could say the same for yours. I can only hope you will be open-minded and willing to look beyond the surface.

All my love,

H. G.

Her tears dripped on the parchment and smeared her words, but it didn't matter. Quickly, she rolled up the scroll and left it on the table with his breakfast. Please don't leave, she silently begged as she laid a kiss on his lips before slipping out the door.

When she returned home that evening, she knew he would be gone. Still, she hoped against hope that maybe he would hang around long enough to let her explain. With bated breath, she opened the cottage door. She closed her eyes and sagged against the doorframe, tears making fresh tracks on her cheeks. She knew he wouldn't be there; it was foolish of her to hope otherwise.

She had no idea where he would go now that the war was over. Would he return to Hogwarts? Did he even enjoy teaching, or had he just been doing Dumbledore a favor, as she suspected? Perhaps he had aligned himself with the school, knowing that Voldemort would return someday and that was where he could best serve the witches and wizards whose trust he so struggled to regain.

As she packed her things that evening preparing to return to the Wizarding world, all she could think of was: How had it come to this? How had she fallen in love with her former nemesis, and how had she let him slip through her fingers? Why didn't she wake him before work and tell him in person? Why didn't she call in sick? So many doubts fluttered through her mind. Maybe he never really loved her. Maybe it was all a figment of her overactive imagination. Whatever the case, he had made the decision to move on with his life. She would have to find a way to do the same.