I do not own Harry Potter.

AN: Something I wrote after a very, very long period of writers block. Based partially from Native American lore that thought the Raven was a bringer of Light that escaped from the darkness of the cosmos. However, I've always liked the thought of Ravens being creatures of Darkness and Death. So, I kind of combined the two. Hopefully you'll like it. Oh, by the way, the poem at the beginning of this story is an original.

Meant to be read as you would any legend.

"Death!" called the Raven-

Because that was all the Raven knew.

But Light was their Beacon,

And so away the Raven flew.

Before there was Light, there was Dark. And from the Darkness the Raven flew in all its glory. But when the Light came, it despised the Raven, and the Raven grew to fear the Light. But the Raven was not so easily cowed, and the Raven fought the Light. But the Raven lost, and had to give up its beauty as punishment. The Light was content, but the Raven was vain, and swore vengeance on the Light for what it had done.

In secret, the Raven created a weapon so horrible, so frightening, that it was sure that it would defeat the Light. But the Light was clever, and it knew what the Raven did. The Light was careful, and decided it would let the Raven think it was sneakier than it was. Instead of confronting the Raven, it made its own weapon, the perfect counter to the Raven's. It made something innocent, something hopeful. And so they waited.

Time passed, and the Raven wallowed in its self-pity, feeding the sorrow to its weapon. It was angry at the Dark that had born it for living in peace with the Light. It thought the sky should swallow the stars, and the sun should never rise. The Raven grew to hate everything.

The humans eventually came, and the Raven fed them its hatred. The Raven gave the humans doubt, grief, anger, envy. But the Light had anticipated this, and had already given the humans happiness, and hope, and forgiveness, and love. The Raven was angry when he saw what the Light had done. He began wars, caused famines and poverty, started droughts and created floods. But every time the Light prevailed, giving the humans something to smile about.

The Raven became impatient, angry at its failures. But the Raven knew it could not yet strike, that it was still too soon. So he bid his time until the Light struck. When Albus Dumbledore was born, the Raven was angry. Now that it was time, he did not want to let go of his weapon, so he spun another with his hatred. But Gellert Grindlewald was soon not enough for the Raven, and it sent along its weapon. The Raven did not know the Light was playing it, that the Light had created its own weapon. The Light knew the Raven was arrogant and would assume the Light had no greater weapon than Albus Dumbledore. The Light was patient, willing to wait until the Raven was sure it was winning.

But the Light was not idle in that time. It fed the Raven's weapon thoughts of dying, where there would be no Raven to protect him, only the Light. The weapon grew to fear death, but the Raven's weapon was as arrogant as its creator. The Raven's weapon thought it could defeat death, just as the Raven thought it could defeat the Light. When the Raven's weapon became too arrogant, thinking to wage war against those the Light nurtured, the Light knew it was time.

And so Harry Potter was born, fighting valiantly against the Raven's weapon and everything it stood for. The Raven, beyond furious that the Light had tricked it, fed more and more hate into its weapon and those who served it. But Harry Potter grew stronger while the Raven's hatred blinded its weapon. The Raven's weapon fell to Harry Potter, condemned to spend eternity with the Light.

The Raven, panicked, shocked, and frightened, flew to the Dark, hoping to find refugee. But the Dark swallowed the Raven, sending it back to whence it came.