the vast chamber, across the dead black water.

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 want 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 gobletful 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 antidote Harry offered him, but upon draining the goblet, he sank to his knees, shaking uncontrollably.

“It's 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 cracking as he tipped the seventh glass of potion into Dumbledore's mouth.

Dumbledore began to cower as though invisible torturers surrounded 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, it's my fault, hurt me instead ...”

“Here, drink this, drink this, you'll be all right,” said Harry desperately, 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 anything ...”

“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 Dumbledore's chest; there was a flash of red light but nothing happened. “Rennervate—sir—

please —”

Dumbledore's 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 water gleamed within it, but as he approached

Dumbledore's 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 agonizing. “Aguamenti—Aguamenti—AGUAMENTI!”