t his Horcruxes." Harry made to speak again, but this time Dumbledore raised his hand for silence, frowning slightly at the emerald liquid, evidently thinking hard.
"Undoubtedly," he said, finally, "this potion must act in a way that will prevent me taking the Horcrux. It might paralyze me, cause me to forget what I am here for, create so much pain I am dis-tracted, or render me incapable in some other way. This being the case, Harry, it will be your job to make sure I keep drinking, even if you have to tip the potion into my protesting mouth. You understand?" Their eyes met over the basin, each pale face lit with that strange, green light. Harry did not speak. Was this why he had been invited along - so that he could force-feed Dumbledore a potion that might cause him unendurable pain? "You remember," said Dumbledore, "the condition on which I brought you with me?" Harry hesitated, looking into the blue eyes that had turned green in the reflected light of the basin. "But what if-?" "You swore, did you not, to follow any command I gave you?" "Yes, but-" "I warned you, did I not, that there might be danger?" "Yes," said Harry, "but -"
"Well, then," said Dumbledore, shaking back his sleeves once more and raising the empty goblet, "you have my orders." "Why can't I drink the potion instead?" asked Harry desperately. "Because I am much older, much cleverer, and much less valuable," said Dumbledore. "Once and for all, Harry, do I have your word that you will do all in your power to make me keep drinking?" "Couldn't - ?" "Do I have it?" "But-" "Your word, Harry." "I -all right, but-" Before Harry could make any further protest, Dumbledore low-ered the crystal goblet into the potion. For a split second, Harry hoped that he would not be able to touch the potion with the gob-let, but the crystal sank into the surface as nothing else had; when the glass was full to the brim, Dumbledore lifted it to his mouth. "Your good health, Harry."
And he drained the goblet. Harry watched, terrified, his hands gripping the rim of the basin so hard that his fingertips were numb. "Professor?" he said anxiously, as Dumbledore lowered the empty glass. "How do you feel?" Dumbledore shook his head, his eyes closed. Harry wondered whether he was in pain. Dumbledore plunged the glass blindly back into the basin, refilled it, and drank once more. In silence, Dumbledore drank three gobletsful of the potion. Then, halfway through the fourth goblet, he staggered and fell for-ward against the basin. His eyes were still closed, his breathing heavy. "Professor Dumbledore?" said Harry, his voice strained. "Can you hear me?" Dumbledore did not answer. His face was twitching as though he was deeply asleep, but dreaming a horrible dream. His grip on the goblet was slackening; the potion was about to spill from it. Harry reached forward and grasped the crystal cup, holding it steady. "Professor, can you hear me?" he repeated loudly, his voice echo-ing around the cavern. Dumbledore panted and then spoke in a voice Harry did not recognize, for he had never heard Dumbledore frightened like this. "I don't want. . . Don't make me ..."
Harry stared into the whitened face he knew so well, at the crooked nose and half-moon spectacles, and did not know what to do. ". . . don't like . . . want to stop . . ." moaned Dumbledore. "You . . . you can't stop, Professor," said Harry. "You've got to keep drinking, remember? You told me you had to keep drinking. Here . . ." Hating himself, repulsed by what he was doing, Harry forced the goblet back toward Dumbledore's mouth and tipped it, so that Dumbledore drank the remainder of the potion inside. "No ..." he groaned, as Harry lowered the goblet back into the basin and refilled it for him. "I don't want to. ... I don't want to. . . . Let me go. . . ." "Its all right, Professor," said Harry, his hand shaking. "Its all right, I'm here -" "Make it stop, make it stop," moaned Dumbledore. "Yes.. . yes, this'll make it stop," lied Harry. He tipped the con-tents of the goblet into Dumbledore's open mouth. Dumbledore screamed; the noise echoed all around the vast chamber, across the dead black water. "No, no, no, no, I can't, I can't, don't make me, I don't warn to. . . ."
"It's all right, Professor, it's all right!" said Harry loudly, his hands shaking so badly he could hardly scoop up the sixth goblei ful of potion; the basin was now half empty. "Nothing's happening to you, you're safe, it isn't real, I swear it isn't real - take this, now, take this..." And obediently, Dumbledore drank, as though it was an anti-dote Harry offered him, but upon draining the goblet, he sank to his knees, shaking uncontrollably. "Its all my fault, all my fault," he sobbed. "Please make it stop, I know I did wrong, oh please make it stop and I'll never, never again ..." "This will make it stop, Professor," Harry said, his voice crack-ing as he tipped the seventh glass of potion into Dumbledore's mouth. Dumbledore began to cower as though invisible torturers sur-rounded him; his flailing hand almost knocked the refilled goblet from Harry's trembling hands as he moaned, "Don't hurt them, don't hurt them, please, please, its my fault, hurt me instead ..." "Here, drink this, drink this, you'll be all right," said Harry des-perately, and once again Dumbledore obeyed him, opening his mouth even as he kept his eyes tight shut and shook from head to foot. And now he fell forward, screaming again, hammering his fists upon the ground, while Harry filled the ninth goblet. "Please, please, please, no ... not that, not that, I'll do any-thing ..." "Just drink, Professor, just drink . . ."
Dumbledore drank like a child dying of thirst, but when he had finished, he yelled again as though his insides were on fire. "No more, please, no more ..." Harry scooped up a tenth gobletful of potion and felt the crystal scrape the bottom of the basin. "We're nearly there, Professor. Drink this, drink it. ..." He supported Dumbledore's shoulders and again, Dumbledore drained the glass; then Harry was on his feet once more, refilling the goblet as Dumbledore began to scream in more anguish than ever, "I want to die! I want to die! Make it stop, make it stop, I want to die!" "Drink this, Professor. Drink this. . . ." Dumbledore drank, and no sooner had he finished than he yelled, "KILL ME!" "This - this one will!" gasped Harry. "Just drink this .. . It'll be over ... all over!" Dumbledore gulped at the goblet, drained every last drop, and then, with a great, rattling gasp, rolled over onto his face. "No!" shouted Harry, who had stood to refill the goblet again; instead he dropped the cup into the basin, flung himself down beside Dumbledore, and heaved him over onto his back; Dumbledore's glasses were askew, his mouth agape, his eyes closed. "No." said Harry, shaking Dumbledore, "no, you're not dead, you said it wasn't poison, wake up, wake up - Rennervate!" he
cried, his wand pointing at Dumbledores chest; there was a flash of red light but nothing happened. "Rennervate - sir - please -" Dumbledores eyelids flickered; Harry's heart leapt, "Sir, are you - ?" "Water," croaked Dumbledore. "Water," panted Harry. "Yes -" He leapt to his feet and seized the goblet he had dropped in the basin; he barely registered the golden locket lying curled beneath it. "Aguamenti!" he shouted, jabbing the goblet with his wand. The goblet filled with clear water; Harry dropped to his knees beside Dumbledore, raised his head, and brought the glass to his lips - but it was empty. Dumbledore groaned and began to pant. "But I had some - wait - Aguamenti!" said Harry again, pointing his wand at the goblet. Once more, for a second, clear wa-ter gleamed within it, but as he approached Dumbledores mouth, the water vanished again. "Sir, I'm trying, I'm trying!" said Harry desperately, but he did not think that Dumbledore could hear him; he had rolled onto his side and was drawing great, rattling breaths that sounded agoniz-ing. "Aguamenti -Aguamenti -AGUAMENTI!" The goblet filled and emptied once more. And now Dumble-dores breathing was fading. His brain whirling in panic, Harry knew, instinctively, the only way left to get water, because Voldemort had planned it so ... He flung himself over to the edge of the rock and plunged the goblet into the lake, bringing it up full to the brim of icy water that did not vanish. "Sir -
here!" Harry yelled, and lunging forward, he tipped the water clumsily over Dumbledores face. It was the best he could do, for the icy feeling on his arm not holding the cup was not the lingering chill of the water. A slimy white hand had gripped his wrist, and the creature to whom it be-longed was pulling him, slowly, backward across the rock. The sur-face of the lake was no longer mirror-smooth; it was churning, and everywhere Harry looked, white heads and hands were emerging from the dark water, men and women and children with sunken, sightless eyes were moving toward the rock: an army of the dead rising from the black water. "Petrificus Totalus!" yelled Harry, struggling to cling to the smooth, soaked surface of the island as he pointed his wand at the Inferius that had his arm. It released him, falling backward into the water with a splash; he scrambled to his feet, but many more Inferi were already climbing onto the rock, their bony hands clawing at its slippery surface, their blank, frosted eyes upon him, trailing waterlogged rags, sunken faces leering. "Petrificus Totalus!" Harry bellowed again, backing away as he swiped his wand through the air; six or seven of them crumpled, but more were coming toward him. "Impedimenta! Incarcerous!" A few of them stumbled, one or two of them bound in ropes, but those climbing onto the rock behind them merely stepped over or on the fallen bodies. Still slashing at the air with his wand, Harry yelled, "Sectumsempra! SECTUMSEMPRA!" But though gashes appeared in their sodden rags and their icy skin, they had no blood to spill: They wa