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All text in bold is actual text from Deathly Hallows

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"You cannot help."

He spun around. Albus Dumbledore was walking toward him, sprightly and upright, wearing sweeping robes of midnight blue.

"Harry." He spread his arms wide, and his hands were both whole and white and undamaged.

"I'm…I…I'm dead. We're dead," Harry said heavily, his shoulders sagging with the gravity of the situation. "I thought I'd have dodged that particular bullet. Did it once," he said wryly.
"True, true," said Dumbledore, and he was like a child seeking reassurance. "Yet I too sought a way to conquer death, Harry."

"The Hallows," said Harry seriously.

"Hallows," murmured Dumbledore, "Not Horcruxes. Precisely."

"Tom Riddle and myself, unfortunately, shared one foolish dream: to master death. A foolish dream, perhaps, an old man's dream, but an obsession nonetheless. While Tom explored the darkness of Horcruxes, I was studying the Hallows, as you know. While most of the legends had barely a sliver of truth to them, there was one possibility—the chance to right a wrong, the opportunity to bring back a life."

Harry had a fleeting vision of his mother, of Sirius, of all the people he could think of worthy of that gift.

With a knowing smile, Dumbledore looked over his glasses, the intensity behind his blue eyes almost piercing Harry.

"Can you not think of one man who is, perhaps, more deserving of life than any other? A man who you know now, to have given up his life entirely?"

Harry was silent.

"The greater good comes with its prices, Harry. Unfortunately, it exacted its heaviest toll on Severus Snape."

A burst of righteous anger flared in Harry.

"You did nothing to prevent it! Or ease it in any way! The way you treated him…" Harry spat, angrily raking his hand through his hair.

Dumbledore nodded in agreement, holding up his hand to halt Harry.

"I do not deny that I exacted more cruelty on Severus than he deserved."

"He didn't deserve any, you knew that."

"Precisely! Harry, what I am about to tell you is of the utmost importance. The Hallows do indeed have the power to reverse death. But only once."

Dumbledore began to pace, his hands clasped behind his back.

"In all the years I spent chasing the Hallows, it became clear that all the superstitions and legends about them had an underlying truth: each item was a piece of the puzzle—a piece of the human condition. The Elder wand represented the courage to fight death, the Resurrection Stone the stubbornness when faced with Death, and the Cloak the cleverness to outwit Death. It became my firm belief that the brothers had indeed created these items without knowing their potential: only when the items were united, when the raw essence of each brother's interpretations of death were combined, could they fulfill their purpose," Dumbledore explained.

"But sir, would he even want to come back?"

Dumbledore smiled sadly, his hand making a sweeping gesture to a figure Harry had not even noticed, it was sitting so still on one of the benches.

"That, Harry, is the ultimate question."

Severus Snape sat, staring straight ahead, looking more like a mannequin than the hurricane of sarcasm and black robes that was Severus Snape .

"Sir?" Harry ventured tentatively, approaching him.

His eyes snapped to Harry, and for a moment, Harry saw his old Potions Master, before his face softened into an expression Harry had never seen. It was as if the little boy that loved his mother was there, and the black eyes that were once cold black tunnels were more welcoming, somehow warmer.

"Mister Potter," Snape said evenly, with a terse nod.

"Severus, are you willing to return?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

Snape seemed to consider the two of them, standing side by side, and Harry could only imagine what he was thinking, his face betrayed nothing.

"I…am not certain, Albus."

"No, you are not. Otherwise you would not be here," Dumbledore said simply.

Snape turned his gaze to Harry, and they silently regarded each other.

"Mr. Potter, upon my return, unlike you, I will not likely remember this conversation, or anything that has transpired here at all. I…apologize for what I am certain will be very unpleasant behavior from myself," Snape said curtly, and Harry's heart gave a lurch of pity for the man who had given his life for his mother.

"Your days of apologies are over," Harry said firmly.

Something like hope flitted across Snape's features.

"When you are ready…I will be as well," Snape said finally, returning to stillness.

Harry turned to Dumbledore.

"Tell me one last thing," said Harry. "Is this real? Or has this been my head?"

Dumbledore beamed at him, and his voice sounded loud and strong in Harry's ears even though the bright mist was descending again, obscuring his figure.

"Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"