Many, many thanks to my Perfect Imagination beta, Mamacita!

***

An angel. She was certainly beautiful. Her dark eyes sparkled, her thick brown hair was lustrous, and her skin was milky and smooth. Dressed in a simple yet beautiful white gown, she walked towards him.

“Dorothy?�

All of a sudden he was in the hospital with her. The angel was gone; Dorothy was in a hospital bed, with lank hair and sickly skin. Her eyes were closed, yet he was still squeezing her hand. He started to cry.

Hogsmeade. Dorothy was forming snowballs with gloveless hands. Her nose was tinged pink from the cold. She threw the snowball up into the air, and it disappeared into the sky. Dorothy jumped up and disappeared after it. He jumped with a start and ran after her.

He was enveloped in darkness, but he heard loud laughter all around him, then yells and screams and cries. He yelled, too, wanting out of the darkness, but something kept him from moving. He seemed to be trapped, held down by some invisible force.

All at once the blackness fell away to be replaced by Dorothy’s serious face, staring down at him in anger and disgust. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them, the angel was back. Dorothy was laughing happily. She took one of his hands into both of her own and cradled it against her chest. He looked around. They were in a luscious green forest, with flowers everywhere. Dorothy touched his lips briefly with her own, let go of his hand, and disappeared into the forest, laughing merrily.

Severus Snape awoke drenched in sweat. He hadn’t thought of Dorothy in years.

“Dorothy Lynette Nielson.� Her name was sweet on his lips. He could remember every bit of her, every inch of her face and body. Her skin was as white and smooth as porcelain, and she had a delicately carved face. Her hair was thick and straight, the color of mahogany wood, and was usually cut right below her ears. Her eyes were black, and slightly narrow because of her Asian heritage. Her parents were both English, but her maternal grandmother was Japanese.

Dorothy was shy and sweet, serious and kind. She seemed fragile, yet she was so strong. He had known her since he was sixteen; she aspired to become a teacher. She had been born of two magical parents, and therefore had grown up with magic. Hogwarts was a second home to her. She spoke to Severus about her goals, telling him that she wanted to become a Herbology teacher and eventually make it to Head of Ravenclaw house.

Unfortunately, at the young age of nineteen, she was diagnosed with terminal leukemia. Severus still remembered the agonizing days he had spent with her in the hospital, waiting for her to die. And die she did; it was the worst time of his life. He had never stopped mourning her.

He was twenty-two now. Dorothy had been dead for three years. It seemed a long time when one contemplated it.

Severus looked outside his window. The grounds were covered in a blanket of white. He remembered that Dorothy had loved the snow.

What did his dream mean? Was it Dorothy, attempting to contact him? If so, what was she trying to tell him?

He didn’t want to decipher the dream; thinking of Dorothy brought him immeasurable pain. It was pointless to think about it; it probably meant nothing, although it had seemed important at the time. In his dream, Dorothy had been an angel. She was laughing, making snowballs, and running around in forests. She was happy.

Severus could barely remember the last time he’d heard Dorothy laugh. When she learned of her leukemia, her smiles ceased to exist and the sparkle in her eyes evaporated; she wore a constant frown. And who could blame her? Just when her life was about to start – it was ending.

Severus’s eyes glazed over as he recalled her loquacity the morning before the fateful visit to her doctor.

“I’m sure Dumbledore will let me have the post, now that Professor Harper’s retired,� she had chirped happily. “I had top marks in my Herbology O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. There’s absolutely no reason for him to reject me!�

Severus had smiled and made encouraging noises. Just before the interview with Dumbledore she had gone to her doctor, and he had delivered the news to her: she had only three months left to live.

She told Severus with a blank expression, but her voice carried much sorrow and bitterness. A few months later she died, and Severus became bitter. He was still bitter now, a bitter Death Eater serving the Dark Lord. A servant, he was, no different from any other Death Eater. If Dorothy could only see him now. She would hate what he had become.

Spy, servant, murderer – they all added up to the same thing: Death Eater. It was his fault James and Lily Potter, along with their son, were going to be murdered.

He thought of Dorothy again – her sweet smile, her rational voice, her kindness. In his dream, Dorothy was in the surroundings she loved most: a forest. She was laughing happily, but Severus was shrouded in the darkness that would most likely follow him for the rest of his life.

He wished he could lessen the darkness somehow, give himself a purpose. What would you have me do, Dorothy? Severus thought bitterly. He closed his eyes and laid his head back. He thought about the fact that a family was going to die because of him. He thought about the fact that if Dorothy was still alive, she would hate him for his deeds. But then, if Dorothy hadn’t died, he wouldn’t have turned down the path that led to Voldemort at all.

“Dorothy,� Severus called. Of course she didn’t answer. She was no longer there. Severus gasped as a tear slid down his pale cheek. Suddenly he thought of Dorothy’s angry face in the dream, and her laughter, and he made up his mind.

He would go to Dumbledore. He would convince Dumbledore that he was guilt-ridden over his past sins, and he would atone for them. Dumbledore would believe Severus and come to trust him. If he couldn’t be happy, Severus felt he could at least have a purpose in life other than murder.

He thought of Dorothy and how she would smile at him, and he smiled too.