Rowena's delicate hand clung to the banister as she struggled to steady herself. She soon felt an arm weave around her waist as the staircase continued to shift. She knew their moving patterns better than anyone; she had been the one to bewitch them, after all. She swiftly stepped out of his grip, and disappeared down the hallway as soon as the stairs settled, and before Godric had the chance to act on his desires.
Her strongly defined features adopted a softer expression as her eyes shifted from her reflection to the figure mirrored in the glass. She lay down her brush, and scooped her raven tresses back into a bun held together by a silver ribbon. Her heart sunk as she felt a pair of warm and weighted hands rest on her shoulders. The guilt had withered through her. She couldn't even look her best friend in the eyes.
"It's a nice night isn't it dear?" Asked Helga absently as she began to unweave Rowena's hair.
Rowena gave a subtle nod as a shadowy smile cast across her pursed lips. "Oh, Helga don't…" She trailed off as Helga's fingers raked gently through her hair.
"You look so pretty with your hair flowing freely. I don't know why you insist on tying it up." Helga said thoughtfully as she sat on the empty stool beside Rowena. She wore a warm smile as she looked to Rowena, as her gentle eyes began to study her friend's frown.
"Yes you do." Rowena said in passing as she rose from her chair in an effort to break away from Helga's strenuous gaze. She felt as though she was under inspection, and in truth, she was.
"Silly reasons." Muttered Helga, flustering with her nightdress as she followed Rowena to the bed in the center of the room.
For as long as Helga could remember, Rowena had avoided anything that reminded her of her mother, and the pair had known each other since being only girls. The truth was, Rowena couldn't bear to see her mother in own reflection. She was her mother, and her mother was her in every physical way. Their noses curved at the same point, their eyes were the exact same shade of icy blue, and their hair as black and silky as the feathers from a Raven.
She pulled back the curtains and climbed into bed, entangling herself in a sea of heavy, sapphire dyed sheets. She soon felt Helga's weight at the bottom of the bed, and before long, a gentle touch was moving down her hairline and along her jaw.
"When people look at you, they see you. You may share the same eyes, and the same blood may run through your veins, but listen to me when I say that you are nothing like her." Said Helga. A firm sense of reassurance lay behind her gentle words. "When people look to your portrait, they see only Rowena Ravenclaw - one of the greatest witches of our time."
Her kindness was only making matters worse, it did nothing but make Rowena's guilt to grow until it was almost unbearable. Helga had looked after her when she could not look after herself, and continued to do so even when she was perfectly able. She was caring, tentative, and she was always there. Rowena did not want to cheat her out of the truth, but she knew that the unravelling of all the lies would leave Helga in tatters.
Rowena blinked back her tears, but a few escaped to roll freely down her cheeks. "Thank you, Helga." She managed to say, sounding not at all like herself. Her voice was shaky and reigned free without composure or balance, her words stuttered and amorphous.
As Rowena listed to the door close behind Helga, her salty tears began to flow freely. She was overcome with remorse. She had stolen moments with her best friend's love. The man Helga doted over, the man she had entrusted with her heart. Yet, despite her guilt, Rowena would not have chosen differently if given the chance. She cherished every magical moment with Godric, during which right and wrong did not come into the equation. At the time, they were far too consumed by their love for one another, to dwell on the fact that it was forbidden.