Hi, all. First HP story ever!

Disclaimer: I own Daresk and Rose, but nothing else.

Summary: Slightly AU: no horcruxes. After leaving Hogwarts, Harry discovers two very important things. First, Snape is innocent, having done what he did on Dumbledore's orders. Second, there is a way to bring the headmaster back. With the help of a sarcastic, chronically ill and endearingly annoying healer, Harry and Snape are going to bring him back. But first they'll have to rethink previous impressions of eachother and maybe even... Become friends?

Without further ado...

Raven, Stag and Crow

Harry entered the clearing, glancing around on all sides. It was nice to be out of the wood again, but he still had little idea how far he had to go to reach the town. He’d been warned that there were wards in place, imposed by paranoid Death Eaters, that would deter anyone on broomstick or apparating nearby. He hadn’t bothered to find out what the “detering” would consist of, but he imagined it wouldn’t be fun. So starting half an hour ago, he’d been walking.

He paused, resting briefly on a mossy boulder. The forest terrain was fairly rough, and he was tired.

The sound of a snapping twig yanked him from his daze. He silently jumped to his feet, instantly on guard. But he didn’t act quite quickly enough to block the silent, perfectly executed petrificus totalus that bound his body completely, leaving him stiff a corpse. He swayed and hit the forest floor with a soft thump.

A figure, dressed all in black, stepped out from behind a spruce tree and approached him, moving with a very slight limp. Harry felt fear tighten every nerve in his body, which really made no difference as he was already wrapped tight as a Christmas parcel. Its face was robed in shadow.

Then it took a further step and the shadow shifted, reveling a hooked nose, sallow face and long, greasy black hair. Snape. The fear coursing through Harry was swiftly replaced with a stab of hatred.

Snape moved closer, a look of revulsion gracing his face. He didn’t look too good. A few thin, healing cuts crisscrossed his face, dark circles loomed under his eyes and the hollows in his cheeks were more pronounced than ever. As for his robes, they were ripped and faded. The only exception was his hair, which looked slightly cleaner than usual. Why this was Harry could not say.

“Well well,” he sneered, “Potter. Still not quick enough, why am I not surprised?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed in anger. The man had him on a platter and yet he still had to gloat.

“So, I suppose you were heading towards Kensdale? How uniquely unintelligent of you. Did it not occur to you that the place is crawling with Inferi? If any one of them were to capture you it would not wait for orders to kill you. But now is not the time to discuss your boundless stupidity; I come bearing a message.”

At this Snape moved in closer, pausing to glance around him. “Muffliato,” he muttered, sealing their conversation from other’s ears.

Harry had no idea what to expect, but he prepared himself for a poisonous lie.

The Potions teacher paused and then began to pace, as if he were unsure of how to deliver his message. “On the sixteenth of June you witnessed me... Murder...Albus Dumbledore. What I have come to tell you, in part, is that this was done on his orders, and not in cold blood. The Headmaster and I had decided on this particular strategy months before then. By killing him not only would I gain the Dark Lord’s complete trust, but Draco Malfoy would be given a chance at redemption and most importantly an opportunity would be created for Dumbledore to mount a surprise attack on the Dark Lord, leaving the way open for you,” at this he paused and looked meaningfully at Harry, “to kill him. You see there exists a spell created by him and myself, which, given an extensive series of circumstances, allows a wizard to be brought back from the dead, more powerful than when they fell.”

Harry’s eyes widened. Much of him wanted to believe Snape was lying through his teeth, but he couldn’t be sure.

“The first part of the spell must be cast by the wizard in question before he is actually killed. This must be done through the Avada Kadavra curse. At the present time these two things have been accomplished, but the spell has a second section to it. Three people are needed to complete it. The first must be the killer himself, the second one of the man murdered’s devoted followers, one who was loved”- he said the word as if he held it in contempt- “by the subject, and the third a true Healer. All three must be truly willing, and all three must be competent wizards. No one was informed because no one is the Order excepting the Headmaster and myself were competent Occlumens.” Snape stopped abruptly, twirling slightly as he cast a sudden charm. “Parlius!” he snapped, and Harry felt his jaw loosen suddenly. The first thing that came out of his freshly mobile mouth was a gasp for breath, the second a screamed sentence.

“Why the hell should I believe you!”

Snape’s nostrils flared in sudden fury, but instead of shouting he leaned in towards Harry so that their eyes met and spoke in a deadly whisper. “Because you haven’t got any alternative, Potter. Did you really think I would murder one of the few people who ever cared about me if he hadn’t insisted I do so?”

He appeared to have said more that he meant to say, for he drew a sharp breath and pulled away from Harry, biting his lip. For several seconds his gaze faltered, but then he continued onwards as though nothing had happened, glaring daggers at the boy in front of him. “In short, Potter, the wizarding world is doomed if you do not. Even you, arrogant though you are, must be capable of admitting that you have not the strength necessary to destroy the Dark Lord and his armies single-handedly?”

Snape gave him a moment to think about it. Harry had to admit, that while it was basically what he’d been planning on, the idea sounded ridiculous coming from someone else. Perhaps he had been a little arrogant in that respect. But, should he believe the ex-spy or not? He really wasn’t sure. I mean, this is Snape, right? How can I possibly trust the man who is responsible for my parents’ death?

Partially responsible, said a tiny, logical voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Hermoine, And besides, he regretted it, right? That’s what Dumbledore said. Dumbledor trusted him. If we can’t have faith in Dumbledore, who can we believe?

The rest of him, the passionate, angry part, tried to shut that voice out. He killed him,it screamed, He ran from the scene of the crime!

Then, however, he realized something. His own infuriated brain was resisting the reasonable point of view because he knew that if he convinced himself Snape was lying then he could go on hating him, blaming him. If he believed him, then he would have to forgive him, at least somewhat. And Harry wasn’t sure if he could handle that.

The old feeling of responsibility settled on him again. He had to believe it. How incredibly selfish would it be to throw the wizarding world to the proverbial dogs just because he needed someone to hate?

So, what do you think? Good? Bad? Don't worry, angst-lovers, it's coming. Just be patient. Please R&R! Reviews make my writing better! And they brighten my whole day.

With much love,

Till My Head Falls Off