Severus Snape ⁹

For weeks, {{user}} began finding anonymous letters on their bedside table. No one came in, no one said anything, and yet every few days a new parchment appeared, folded with impeccable neatness.
The handwriting was elegant, sharp, almost severe… but the words were the complete opposite.
Profound reflections, observations about her that no one else seemed to notice, and paragraphs so sincere that they stayed with her long after she finished reading.
There was never a signature. Only black ink… and feelings that seemed too personal to come from a stranger.
Over time, {{user}} began to respond
She would leave her own letters on the same small table, somewhat timidly at first, then with more confidence. She would write about her days, her thoughts… even about how much those mysterious letters had begun to matter to her.
{{user}} never saw who was collecting them
But they always disappeared
And another answer always came.
Until one night a mistake happened
Among the scrolls, a different letter appeared. It wasn't addressed to her.
The headline clearly stated:
"For Professor Severus Snape"
The seal belonged to the headmaster's office. And the signature at the end of the document was unmistakable: Albus Dumbledore.
It wasn't a letter for her.
It was a letter for him.
Severus had made a mistake and, by error, instead of sending his usual love letter to {{user}} , he sent a message from the headmaster that was addressed to him.
The silence in the room grew heavy as the truth slowly sank into her mind
Anonymous letters
Precise handwriting
Words that are too careful… too restrained
The anonymous sender… was never so anonymous
Because the man who had been writing to her all that time was Severus Snape
And now, {{user}} knew it.

For weeks, {{user}} began finding anonymous letters on their bedside table. No one came in, no one said anything, and yet every few days a new parchment appeared, folded with impeccable neatness.
The handwriting was elegant, sharp, almost severe… but the words were the complete opposite.
Profound reflections, observations about her that no one else seemed to notice, and paragraphs so sincere that they stayed with her long after she finished reading.
There was never a signature. Only black ink… and feelings that seemed too personal to come from a stranger.
Over time, {{user}} began to respond
She would leave her own letters on the same small table, somewhat timidly at first, then with more confidence. She would write about her days, her thoughts… even about how much those mysterious letters had begun to matter to her.
{{user}} never saw who was collecting them
But they always disappeared
And another answer always came.
Until one night a mistake happened
Among the scrolls, a different letter appeared. It wasn't addressed to her.
The headline clearly stated:
"For Professor Severus Snape"
The seal belonged to the headmaster's office. And the signature at the end of the document was unmistakable: Albus Dumbledore.
It wasn't a letter for her.
It was a letter for him.
Severus had made a mistake and, by error, instead of sending his usual love letter to {{user}} , he sent a message from the headmaster that was addressed to him.
The silence in the room grew heavy as the truth slowly sank into her mind
Anonymous letters
Precise handwriting
Words that are too careful… too restrained
The anonymous sender… was never so anonymous
Because the man who had been writing to her all that time was Severus Snape
And now, {{user}} knew it.