Chapter 22 - Facing The Truth

Chapter 22 – Facing The Truth

Ginny stood, shaking, on the doorstep of Alfric's tiny Cornish cottage, the wind whipping her hair around her face and into her eyes. Holding on to the door frame for support, Harry's words kept revolving in her mind like a twisted kind of mantra.

Polyjuice Potion, Ginny. The oldest trick in the book.

As much as Ginny didn't want to believe what her husband had told her, she had a sickening feeling that he was telling the truth. In a perverse way, it all made sense. The use of Polyjuice Potion would explain why Alfric had to be so rigid and precise when arranging a time to see each other. Ginny assumed it was her job and family commitments which dictated those terms, but thinking about it, she'd never turned up out of the blue to simply surprise her lover because they'd always set a date and time. Similarly, they'd only ever corresponded through letters rather than simply using the Floo. Ginny hadn't thought this odd; rather, it felt romantic and exciting. But with Harry's allegations still ringing in her ears, she realised the use of owl post for communication would indeed shield Alfric's use of Polyjuice Potion.

Ginny gritted her teeth as she stood on the threshold. There was only one way to see if Harry was lying or not. Casting a non-verbal Silencing Charm, she furtively grabbed hold of the doorknob and twisted. The cold, worn brass felt smooth in her hand and, to her immense surprise, the handle turned without resistance, and she found herself standing in the sparse hallway. Silently, she closed the door behind her, her heart pounding with adrenaline as she crept towards the lounge.

The door was ajar. She stood, listening intently for any sign of occupancy over the frantic tattoo of her racing pulse. After a few moments she heard the rustle of paper: the unmistakable sound of the page of a book being turned. She closed her eyes momentarily, taking a deep breath with which to steady herself, before launching forwards and bursting into the room.

The shock in Severus Snape's eyes was a sight she'd never forget.

'You bastard!' she raged, lunging towards him and whipping her wand from her robes in one fluid action. She was startled to find that he looked not much different from how she remembered him at school: his black hair still framed his pale face, and his eyes, hypnotic and bottomless onyx. Time had passed, but aside from the deepening of the furrow his brow, her former professor looked essentially the same. He was even dressed head to toe in black. Anxiety twisted in her gut as the realisation dawned that all her stolen moments of passion and all the intense feelings she had shared had been with the stern ex-Potions master before her, instead of the ruggedly handsome man whom she'd known as Alfric.

It had been a while since he'd had to employ his Occlumency, but it appeared it was a skill Snape still possessed as his mental barriers swiftly fortified his mind like the portcullis of a fortress. Years of shielding his emotions and disciplining his mind meant he could still draw Occlumency around him like a veil. But his self-control surprised him under the circumstances because seeing Ginny before him stirred up many emotions: guilt, shame, but also a swooping in his stomach that spoke of hope and love.

How Ginny had found out his true identity was neither here nor there. The truth was out and that was all that mattered now. He inwardly cursed himself for not warding the doors against her as he snapped the book shut and placed it carefully on the rickety table beside him, remaining seated in his tatty armchair as he prepared to admit the truth to her at last.

'I don't blame you for being angry, Ginny,' he said slowly in his familiar, rich baritone, his black eyes meeting her chestnut gaze.

'How dare you!' she yelled, her wand hand shaking with rage. 'How dare you trick me?'

Severus looked warily from Ginny's wand back to her pale face. Her wand was visibly trembling, and she was furious. If he weren't careful, he'd end up with no testicles. Talking about feelings was not one of his strong points and throughout his life he avoided it if at all possible. But he had to try to make her understand how he'd got in to this mess in the first place.

'It was never my intention to deceive you,' he began quietly.

'Never your intention?' she spat, mockingly. 'Polyjuice Potion is the biggest deception there is!'

Snape put his hand up, by way of offering a truce. 'I don't blame you for being angry,' he repeated, 'but at least give me a chance to explain.'

Ginny's eyes flashed, and Snape swore he could hear her hair crackle as she hissed, 'Give me one reason why I shouldn't castrate you right now.'

Snape breathed deeply through his nose, weighing up his words carefully. He had to show her his actions weren't premeditated. She deserved the truth; he could only hope she would believe him.

'I've been away from the wizarding world for a decade. I wanted nothing more to do with it. During the time of the Dark Lord's return, I was trapped between playing his right-hand man and working for Dumbledore. Once the war was over, I chose to leave it forever so I could be free.' He paused and looked at Ginny, hoping she could hear the sincerity of his words. 'I've never been a free man, Ginny.'

'And?' she answered impatiently. 'What does this have to do with anything?'

He sighed before continuing, 'In order to break away completely, I needed a new identity. That's where Alfric O. Nobel came in. Under that name I could have a bank account, a subscription to the Daily Prophet and complete my own potion work without fuss. Because if anyone knew I was alive, they would try to find me. Rita Skeeter would write some hideous exposé on the tragedy of my life,' he sneered, 'and yet others would demand that I pay for Dumbledore's death in Azkaban. I couldn't risk that, not after being pulled from the jaws of death. I'd rather be dead than have to live incarcerated again.'

Ginny eyed him suspiciously, her wand arm faltering as Snape went on.

'This is where I have been living for the last ten years: here in this tiny cottage, essentially as a hermit, clawing back the years the Dark Lord had taken from me. Reading the Daily Prophet was my only link to the world I'd left behind. So when I found out your son was critically ill, knowing I could save him put me in a dilemma. I didn't want to be involved, yet I couldn't sit back and do nothing and send the boy to his death. So I sent word to St. Mungo's using my pseudonym and hoped that would be the end of it.

'But it wasn't. You found me, Ginny. You went out of your way to thank me, to find the person who saved your son. And when you invited me to that Quidditch match I will admit I was weak by saying yes. I hadn't been amongst wizards and witches for a decade, and during that time I hadn't heard the roar of the crowd in my ears or enjoyed a good game of Quidditch. Your invitation was my first chance to rejoin the wizarding world fleetingly, without being detected. And that is why I used Polyjuice Potion.'

Ginny watched the man in front of her carefully. She'd never seen him look so sincere, but this was a man who had fooled the most powerful Dark wizard the world had ever known, not to mention playing the part of a villain so compellingly that he had been a figure of loathing to all Hogwarts students. He could still be lying yet. 'That still doesn't explain why you tricked me!'

'I hadn't planned for you to be attracted to me.' He paused before continuing, and his next words obviously cost him great effort. 'I hadn't planned on being attracted to you.' He stopped, his black eyes shining. 'I didn't know I wouldn't be able to resist you.'

Now it was Ginny's turn to be shocked, and her wand arm fell limply by her side.

'Don't try and make out you have feelings for me!' she snapped.

'I'm not pretending,' he murmured, rising from his armchair and taking a step towards her. His heart seemed to thud so loudly, it threatened to drown out what he was about to say. His palms felt clammy as he prepared to tell Ginny the truth about his feelings. 'I let myself get in too deep. And then I didn't know how to stop. Because I knew if I told you the truth, then... this would happen.' He turned his face from her bitterly. 'So here I am. The ugly truth. Hex me, if it makes you feel better. But nothing you can do to me will make me feel more wretched than I do right now.'

Ginny faltered as she watched her former professor pinch the bridge of his nose with his long fingers. He looked tired, and a part of Ginny felt confused and even sorry for him; if he had indeed developed feelings for her, then he faced a real predicament now. Severus Snape, his face usually a stoic, inscrutable mask, now looked truly ashamed. But the other part of her felt betrayed by his deception, and that part wasn't done with Severus Snape just yet.

'How can I believe a single thing you say?' she asked grimly, stowing her wand back inside her robes. Turning away from him, she added, 'You'll never know how much you've hurt me.'

'I never meant to hurt you,' he answered hoarsely, reaching a hand out to her.

'Save your breath,' Ginny muttered viciously, walking towards the door.

In that moment, Severus felt his throat constricting, and he couldn't have called out to apologise to Ginny even if his very existence depended on it. Another red-head had rebutted his explanations a whole generation ago; another red-head had walked out of his life in anger and had left him broken and desolate with those very words. And now it was happening again. The room seemed to get smaller and all the air sucked out of it by the time she reached the door.

'I'll keep your secret, Severus Snape,' Ginny said, and her voice was as cold as the cells in Nurmengard. 'That much I owe you for saving my son. But don't ever try contacting me again.'

'Ginny,' Severus croaked, but it was too late; with a few short steps, Ginny had exited the lounge and Disapparated in the hall.

A/N: Thanks as ever to my patient and supportive beta, the wonderful Agnus Castus, who is far more than a SPaG checker. It's due to her hard work that this story is the best it can be and I thank her for her advice, feedback and, most of all, her friendship.