Sevarus paced his room. Back and forth, back and forth. He couldn't rest for each time he did, each time he closed his eyes, she was there, mocking him. He dreamt of her. He could not get the image of her fiery hair and deep green eyes out of his head. And each time he found himself walking the halls near her rooms he would have to mentally shake himself and turn forcefully in the opposite direction.

It didn't help that all of this was foretold once by the sorting hat, that somehow this was meant to be. Once when he had been very young his path had been set, and he had railed against it. He had been told his soulmate was to be waiting for him at Hogwarts. And he had been so sure who it was until James Potter came along. But then his hopes were dashed. He had been sure the Hat had lied. And if that was so what else had he mis-understood.

So he had thrown himself into the path of darkness. At least there he knew the truth. Voldemort had never lied to him, had realised it wasn't necessary. Sevarus Snape had known full well the truth of him, had known what he was doing. But half way down the path to darkness he began to dream of a small girl with red hair. And it had confused him. Why dream of such a girl? He found he could not work quite so evilly as he had once done. An image of a child so pure now rested deep within him.

So he turned double agent, and the pressure in his soul lessened. He dreamt every now and then of the girl. And now she was here, just like the sorting hat had predicted, but he didn't know if she would have him. He felt the weight of his sins again.