Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. It belongs to JK Rowling.

She came to him in his dreams in a white dress with her red hair down to her shoulders and with her smile the way it had been that first summer in the park.

Her body wasn't tainted by the act of giving birth to that man's child, and her heart had never been defiled by love for James Potter.

She was pure. He didn't want his blood-soaked hands to stain her gown, but he wanted to touch her so badly, and his lips longed to experience the touch they could never have in life.

She came to him in a white dress. His fingers with their red crimes left the evidence of what he had done, the dress full of red hand prints. He had sullied her; he had ruined her.

She stood looking at him with those green passionate eyes and slipped off the offending garment.

She was perfect in every way, he decided as she stood before him naked. He glanced down at his hands and noticed that the blood was being washed away.

Maybe now, with his former crimes forgiven and her as she was intended to be, they could be perfect together without any complications.