Harry could smell salt and hear rushing waves; a light, chilly breeze ruffled his hair as he looked out at moonlit sea and star-strewn sky. He was standing upon a high
outcrop of dark rock, water foaming and churning below him. He glanced over his shoulder. A towering cliff stood behind them, a sheer drop, black and faceless. A few
large chunks of rock, such as the one upon which Harry and Dumbledore were standing, looked as though they had broken away from the cliff face at some point in the
past. It was a bleak, harsh view, the sea and the rock unrelieved by any tree or sweep of grass or sand.
“What do you think?” asked Dumbledore. He might have been asking Harry's opinion on whether it was a good site for a picnic.
“They brought the kids from the orphanage here?” asked Harry, who could not imagine a less cozy spot for a day trip.
“Not here, precisely,” said Dumbledore. “There is a village of sorts about halfway along the cliffs behind us. I believe the orphans were taken there for a little
sea air and a view of the waves. No, I think it was only ever Tom Riddle and his youthful victims who visited this spot. No Muggle could reach this rock unless they
were uncommonly good mountaineers, and boats cannot approach the cliffs, the waters around them are too dangerous. I imagine that Riddle climbed down; magic would have
served better than ropes. And he brought two small children with him, probably for the pleasure of terrorizing them. I think the journey alone would have done it, don't
you?”
Harry looked up at the cliff again and felt goose bumps.
“But his final destination—and ours—lies a little farther on. Come.”
Dumbledore beckoned Harry to the very edge of the rock where a series of jagged niches made footholds leading down to boulders that lay half-submerged in water and
closer to the cliff. It was a treacherous descent and Dumbledore, hampered slightly by his withered hand, moved slowly. The lower rocks were slippery with seawater.
Harry could feel flecks of cold salt spray hitting his face.
“Lumos,” said Dumbledore, as he reached the boulder closest to the cliff face. A thousand flecks of golden light sparkled upon the dark surface of the water a few
feet below where he crouched; the black wall of rock beside him was illuminated too.
“You see?” said Dumbledore quietly, holding his wand a little higher. Harry saw a fissure in the cliff into which dark water was swirling.
“You will not object to getting a little wet?”
“No,” said Harry.
“Then take off your Invisibility Cloak—there is no need for it now—and let us take the plunge.”
And with the sudden agility of a much younger man, Dumbledore slid from the boulder, landed in the sea, and began to swim, with a perfect breaststroke, toward the dark
slit in the rock face, his lit wand held in his teeth. Harry pulled off his cloak, stuffed it into his pocket, and followed.
The water was icy; Harry's waterlogged clothes billowed around him and weighed him down. Taking deep breaths that filled his nostrils with the tang of salt and seaweed,
he struck out for the shimmering, shrinking light now moving deeper into the cliff. The fissure soon opened into a dark tunnel that Harry could tell would be filled
with water at high tide. The slimy walls were barely three feet apart and glimmered like wet tar in the passing light of Dumbledore's wand. A little way in, the
passageway curved to the left, and Harry saw that it extended far into the cliff. He continued to swim in Dumbledore's wake, the tips of his benumbed fingers brushing
the rough, wet rock.
Then he saw Dumbledore rising out of the water ahead, his silver hair and dark robes gleaming. When Harry reached the spot he found steps that led into a large cave. He
clambered up them, water streaming from his soaking clothes, and emerged, shivering uncontrollably, into the still and freezing air.
Dumbledore was standing in the middle of the cave, his wand held high as he turned slowly on the spot, examining the walls and ceiling.
“Yes, this is the place,” said Dumbledore.
“How can you tell?” Harry spoke in a whisper.
“It has known magic,” said Dumbledore simply. Harry could not tell whether the shivers he was experiencing were due to his spine-deep coldness or to the same
awareness of enchantments. He watched as Dumbledore continued to revolve on the spot, evidently concentrating on things Harry could not see.
“This is merely the antechamber, the entrance hall,” said Dumbledore after a moment or two. “We need to penetrate the inner place... now it is Lord Voldemort's
obstacles that stand in our way, rather than those nature made...”
Dumbledore approached the wall of the cave and caressed it with his blackened fingertips, murmuring words in a strange tongue that Harry did not understand. Twice
Dumbledore walked right around the cave, touching as much of the rough rock as he could, occasionally pausing, running his fingers backward and forward over a
particular spot, until finally he stopped, his hand pressed flat against the wall.
“Here,” he said. “We go on through here. The entrance is concealed.”
Harry did not ask how Dumbledore knew. He had never seen a wizard work things out like this, simply by looking and touching; but Harry had long since learned that bangs
and smoke were more often the marks of ineptitude than expertise.
Dumbledore stepped back from the cave wall and pointed his wand at the rock. For a moment, an arched outline appeared there, blazing white as though there was a
powerful light behind the crack.
“You've d-done it!” said Harry through chattering teeth, but before the words had left his lips the outline had gone, leaving the rock as bare and solid as ever.
Dumbledore looked around.
“Harry, I'm so sorry, I forgot,” he said; he now pointed his wand at Harry and at once, Harry's clothes were as warm and dry as if they had been hanging in front of a
blazing fire.
“Thank you,” said Harry gratefully, but Dumbledore had already turned his attention back to the solid cave wall. He did not try any more magic, but simply stood there
staring at it intently, as though something extremely interesting was written on it. Harry stayed quite still; he did not want to break Dumbledore's concentration.
Then, after two solid minutes, Dumbledore said quietly, “Oh, surely not. So crude.”
“What is it, Professor?”
“I rather think,” said Dumbledore, putting his uninjured hand inside his robes and drawing out a short silver knife of the kind Harry used to chop potion ingredients,
“that we are required to make payment to pass.”
“Payment?” said Harry. “You've got to give the door something?”
“Yes,” said Dumbledore. “Blood, if I am not much mistaken.”
“Blood?”
“I said it was crude,” said Dumbledore, who sounded disdainful, even disappointed, as though Voldemort had fallen short of higher standards Dumbledore expected. “The
idea, as I am sure you will have gathered, is that your enemy must weaken him- or herself to enter. Once again, Lord Voldemort fails to grasp that there are much more
terrible things than physical injury.”
“Yeah, but still, if you can avoid it...” said Harry, who had experienced enough pain not to be keen for more.
“Sometimes, however, it is unavoidable,” said Dumbledore, shaking back the sleeve of his robes and exposing the forearm of his injured hand.
“Professor!” protested Harry, hurrying forward as Dumbledore raised his knife. “I'll do it, I'm —”
He did not know what he was going to say—younger, fitter? But Dumbledore merely smiled. There was a flash of silver, and a spurt of scarlet; the rock face was peppered
with dark, glistening drops.
“You are very kind, Harry,” said Dumbledore, now passing the tip of his wand over the deep cut he had made in his own arm, so that it healed instantly, just as Snape
had healed Malfoy's wound, “But your blood is worth more than mine. Ah, that seems to have done the trick, doesn't it?”
The blazing silver outline of an arch had appeared in the wall once more, and this time it did not fade away: the blood-spattered rock within it simply vanished,
leaving an opening into what seemed total darkness.
“After me, I think,” said Dumbledore, and he walked through the archway with Harry on his heels, lighting his own wand hastily as he went.
An eerie sight met their eyes: they were standing on the edge of a great black lake, so vast that Harry could not make out the distant banks, in a cavern so high that
the ceiling too was out of sight. A misty greenish light shone far away in what looked like the middle of the lake; it was reflected in the completely still water
below. The greenish glow and the light from the two wands were the only things that broke the otherwise velvety blackness, though their rays did not penetrate as far as
Harry would have expected. The darkness was somehow denser than normal darkness.
“Let us walk,” said Dumbledore quietly. “Be very careful not to step into the water. Stay close to me.”
He set off around the edge of the lake, and Harry followed close behind him. Their footsteps made echoing, slapping sounds on the narrow rim of rock that surrounded the
water. On and on they walked, but the view did not vary: on one side of them, the rough cavern wall, on the other, the boundless expanse of smooth, glassy blackness, in
the very middle of which was that mysterious greenish glow. Harry found the place and the silence oppressive, unnerving.
“Professor?” he said finally. “Do you think the Horcrux is here?”
“Oh yes,” said Dumbledore. “Yes, I'm sure it is. The question is, how do we get to it?”
“We couldn't... we couldn't just try a Summoning Charm?” Harry said, sure that it was a stupid suggestion. But he was much keener than he was prepared to admit on
getting out of this place as soon as possible.
“Certainly we could,” said Dumbledore, stopping so suddenly that Harry almost walked into him. “Why don't you do it?”
“Me? Oh... okay...” Harry had not expected this, but cleared his throat and said loudly, wand aloft, “Accio Horcrux!”
With a noise like an explosion, something very large and pale erupted out of the dark water some twenty feet away; before Harry could see what it was, it had vanished
again with a crashing splash that made great, deep ripples on the mirrored surface. Harry leapt backward in shock and hit the wall; his heart was still thundering as he
turned to Dumbledore.
“What was that?”
“Something, I think, that is ready to respond should we attempt to seize the Horcrux.”
Harry looked back at the water. The surface of the lake was once more shining black glass: the ripples had vanished unnaturally fast; Harry's heart, however, was still
pounding.
“Did you think that would happen, sir?”
“I thought something would happen if we made an obvious attempt to get our hands on the Horcrux. That was a very good idea, Harry; much the simplest way of finding out
what we are facing.”
“But we don't know what the thing was,” said Harry, looking at the sinisterly smooth water.
“What the things are, you mean,” said Dumbledore. “I doubt very much that there is only one of them. Shall we walk on?”
“Professor?”
“Yes, Harry?”
“Do you think we're going to have to go into the lake?”
“Into it? Only if we are very unfortunate.”
“You don't think the Horcrux is at the bottom?”
“Oh no ... I think the Horcrux is in the middle.”
And Dumbledore pointed toward the misty green light in the center of the lake.
“So we're going to have to cross the lake to get to it?”
“Yes, I think so.”
Harry did not say anything. His thoughts were all of water monsters, of giant serpents, of demons, kelpies, and sprites...
“Aha,” said Dumbledore, and he stopped again; this time, Harry really did walk into him; for a moment he toppled on the edge of the dark water, and Dumbledore's
uninjured hand closed tightly around his upper arm, pulling him back. “So sorry, Harry, I should have given warning. Stand back against the wall, please; I think I
have found the place.”
Harry had no idea what Dumbledore meant; this patch of dark bank was exactly like every other bit as far as he could tell, but Dumbledore seemed to have detected
something special about it. This time he was running his hand, not over the rocky wall, but through the thin air, as though expecting to find and grip something
invisible.
“Oho,” said Dumbledore happily, seconds later. His hand had closed in midair upon something Harry could not see. Dumbledore moved closer to the water; Harry watched
nervously as the tips of Dumbledore's buckled shoes found the utmost edge of the rock rim. Keeping his hand clenched in midair, Dumbledore raised his wand with the
other and tapped his fist with the point.
Immediately a thick coppery green chain appeared out of thin air, extending from the depths of the water into Dumbledore's clenched hand. Dumbledore tapped the chain,
which began to slide through his fist like a snake, coiling itself on the ground with a clinking sound that echoed noisily off the rocky walls, pulling something from
the depths of the black water. Harry gasped as the ghostly prow of a tiny boat broke the surface, glowing as green as the chain, and floated, with barely a ripple,
toward the place on the bank where Harry and Dumbledore stood.
“How did you know that was there?” Harry asked in astonishment.
“Magic always leaves traces,” said Dumbledore, as the boat hit the bank with a gentle bump, “sometimes very distinctive traces. I taught Tom Riddle. I know his
style.”
“Is ... is this boat safe?”
“Oh yes, I think so. Voldemort needed to create a means to cross the lake without attracting the wrath of those creatures he had placed within it in case he ever
wanted to visit or remove his Horcrux.”
“So the things in the water won't do anything to us if we cross in Voldemort's boat?”
“I think we must resign ourselves to the fact that they will, at some point, realize we are not Lord Voldemort. Thus far, however, we have done well. They have allowed
us to raise the boat.”
“But why have they let us?” asked Harry, who could not shake off the vision of tentacles rising out of the dark water the moment they were out of sight of the bank.
“Voldemort would have been reasonably confident that none but a very great wizard would have been able to find the boat,” said Dumbledore. “I think he would have
been prepared to risk what was, to his mind, the most unlikely possibility that somebody else would find it, knowing that he had set other obstacles ahead that only he
would be able to penetrate. We shall see whether he was right.”
Harry looked down into the boat. It really was very small.
“It doesn't look like it was built for two people. Will it hold both of us? Will we be too heavy together?”
Dumbledore chuckled.
“Voldemort will not have cared about the weight, but about the amount of magical power that crossed his lake. I rather think an enchantment will have been placed upon
this boat so that only one wizard at a time will be able to sail in it.”
“But then—?”
“I do not think you will count, Harry: you are underage and unqualified. Voldemort would never have expected a sixteen-year-old to reach this place: I think it
unlikely that your powers will register compared to mine.”
These words did nothing to raise Harry's morale; perhaps Dumbledore knew it, for he added, “Voldemort's mistake, Harry, Voldemort's mistake... age is foolish and
forgetful when it underestimates youth... now, you first this time, and be careful not to touch the water.”
Dumbledore stood aside and Harry climbed carefully into the boat. Dumbledore stepped in too, coiling the chain onto the floor. They were crammed in together; Harry
could not comfortably sit, but crouched, his knees jutting over the edge of the boat, which began to move at once. There was no sound other than the silken rustle of
the boat's prow cleaving the water; it moved without their help, as though an invisible rope was pulling it onward toward the light in the center. Soon they could no
longer see the walls of the cavern; they might have been at sea except that there were no waves.
Harry looked down and saw the reflected gold of his wandlight sparkling and glittering on the black water as they passed. The boat was carving deep ripples upon the
glassy surface, grooves in the dark mirror...
And then Harry saw it, marble white, floating inches below the surface.
“Professor!” he said, and his startled voice echoed loudly over the silent water.
“Harry?”
“I think I saw a hand in the water—a human hand!”
“Yes, I am sure you did,” said Dumbledore calmly.
Harry stared down into the water, looking for the vanished hand, and a sick feeling rose in his throat.
“So that thing that jumped out of the water—?” But Harry had his answer before Dumbledore could reply; the wandlight had slid over a fresh patch of water and showed
him, this time, a dead man lying faceup inches beneath the surface, his open eyes misted as though with cobwebs, his hair and his robes swirling around him like smoke.
“There are bodies in here!” said Harry, and his voice sounded much higher than usual and most unlike his own.
“Yes,” said Dumbledore placidly, “but we do not need to worry about them at the moment.”
“At the moment?” Harry repeated, tearing his gaze from the water to look at Dumbledore.
“Not while they are merely drifting peacefully below us,” said Dumbledore. “There is nothing to be feared from a body, Harry, any more than there is anything to be
feared from the darkness. Lord Voldemort, who of course secretly fears both, disagrees. But once again he reveals his own lack of wisdom. It is the unknown we fear when
we look upon death and darkness, nothing more.”
Harry said nothing; he did not want to argue, but he found the idea that there were bodies floating around them and beneath them horrible and, what was more, he did not
believe that they were not dangerous.
“But one of them jumped,” he said, trying to make his voice as level and calm as Dumbledore's. “When I tried to Summon the Horcrux, a body leapt out of the lake.”
“Yes,” said Dumbledore. “I am sure that once we take the Horcrux, we shall find them less peaceable. However, like many creatures that dwell in cold and darkness,
they fear light and warmth, which we shall therefore call to our aid should the need arise. Fire, Harry,” Dumbledore added with a smile, in response to Harry's
bewildered expression.
“Oh... right...” said Harry quickly. He turned his head to look at the greenish glow toward which the boat was still inexorably sailing. He could not pretend now that
he was not scared. The great black lake, teeming with the dead ... it seemed hours and hours ago that he had met Professor Trelawney, that he had given Ron and Hermione
Felix Felicis... he suddenly wished he had said a better goodbye to the... and he hadn't seen Ginny at all...
“Nearly there,” said Dumbledore cheerfully.
Sure enough, the greenish light seemed to be growing larger at last, and within minutes, the boat had come to a halt, bumping gently into something that Harry could not
see at first, but when he raised his illuminated wand he saw that they had reached a small island of smooth rock in the center of the lake.
“Careful not to touch the water,” said Dumbledore again as Harry climbed out of the boat.
The island was no larger than Dumbledore's office, an expanse of flat dark stone on which stood nothing but the source of that greenish light, which looked much
brighter when viewed close to. Harry squinted at it; at first, he thought it was a lamp of some kind, but then he saw that the light was coming from a stone basin
rather like the Pensieve, which was set on top of a pedestal.
Dumbledore approached the basin and Harry followed. Side by side, they looked down into it. The basin was full of an emerald liquid emitting that phosphorescent glow.
“What is it?” asked Harry quietly.
“I am not sure,” said Dumbledore. “Something more worrisome than blood and bodies, however.” Dumbledore pushed back the sleeve of his robe over his blackened hand,
and stretched out the tips of his burned fingers toward the surface of the potion.
“Sir, no, don't touch—!”
“I cannot touch,” said Dumbledore, smiling faintly. “See? I cannot approach any nearer than this. You try.”
Staring, Harry put his hand into the basin and attempted to touch the potion. He met an invisible barrier that prevented him coming within an inch of it. No matter how
hard he pushed, his fingers encountered nothing but what seemed to be solid and flexible air.
“Out of the way, please, Harry,” said Dumbledore.
He raised his wand and made complicated movements over the surface of the-potion, murmuring soundlessly. Nothing happened, except per haps that the potion glowed a
little brighter. Harry remained silent while Dumbledore worked, but after a while Dumbledore withdrew his wand, and Harry felt it was safe to talk again.
“You think the Horcrux is in there, sir?”
“Oh yes.” Dumbledore peered more closely into the basin. Harry saw his face reflected, upside down, in the smooth surface of the green potion. “But how to reach it?
This potion cannot be penetrated by hand, Vanished, parted, scooped up, or siphoned away, nor can it be Transfigured, Charmed, or otherwise made to change its nature.”
Almost absent-mindedly, Dumbledore raised his wand again, twirled it once in midair, and then caught the crystal goblet that he had conjured out of nowhere.
“I can only conclude that this potion is supposed to be drunk.”
“What?” said Harry. “No!”
“Yes, I think so: only by drinking it can I empty the basin and see what lies in its depths.”
“But what if— what if it kills you?”
“Oh, I doubt that it would work like that,” said Dumbledore easily. “Lord Voldemort would not want to kill the person who reached this island.”
Harry couldn't believe it. Was this more of Dumbledore's insane determination to see good in everyone?
“Sir,” said Harry, trying to keep his voice reasonable, “sir, this is Voldemort we're —”
“I'm sorry, Harry; I should have said, he would not want to immediately kill the person who reached this island,” Dumbledore corrected himself. “He would want to
keep them alive long enough to find out how they managed to penetrate so far through his defenses and, most importantly of all, why they were so intent upon emptying
the basin. Do not forget that Lord Voldemort believes that he alone knows about 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 distracted, 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 lowered the crystal goblet into the potion. For a split second, Harry hoped that he would not be able to touch
the potion with the goblet, 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 forward 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 echoing 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...”
“It's all right, Professor,” said Harry, his hand shaking. “It's 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 contents 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 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!”
The goblet filled and emptied once more. And now Dumbledore's 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 Dumbledore's 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 belonged was pulling him, slowly, backward across the rock. The surface 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 walked on, unfeeling, their shrunken hands outstretched toward him,
and as he backed away still farther, he felt arms enclose him from behind, thin, fleshless arms cold as death, and his feet left the ground as they lifted him and began
to carry him, slowly and surely, back to the water, and he knew there would be no release, that he would be drowned, and become one more dead guardian of a fragment of
Voldemort's shattered soul...
But then, through the darkness, fire erupted: crimson and gold, a ring of fire that surrounded the rock so that the Inferi holding Harry so tightly stumbled and
faltered; they did not dare pass through the flames to get to the water. They dropped Harry; he hit the ground, slipped on the rock, and fell, grazing his arms, then
scrambled back up, raising his wand and staring around.
Dumbledore was on his feet again, pale as any of the surrounding Inferi, but taller than any too, the fire dancing in his eyes; his wand was raised like a torch and
from its tip emanated the flames, like a vast lasso, encircling them all with warmth.
The Inferi bumped into each other, attempting, blindly, to escape the fire in which they were enclosed...
Dumbledore scooped the locket from the bottom of the stone basin and stowed it inside his robes. Wordlessly, he gestured to Harry to come to his side. Distracted by the
flames, the Inferi seemed unaware that their quarry was leaving as Dumbledore led Harry back to the boat, the ring of fire moving with them, around them, the bewildered
Inferi accompanying them to the waters edge, where they slipped gratefully back into their dark waters.
Harry, who was shaking all over, thought for a moment that Dumbledore might not be able to climb into the boat; he staggered a little as he attempted it; all his
efforts seemed to be going into maintaining the ring of protective flame around them. Harry seized him and helped him back to his seat. Once they were both safely
jammed inside again, the boat began to move back across the black water, away from the rock, still encircled by that ring of fire, and it seemed that the Inferi
swarming below them did not dare resurface.
“Sir,” panted Harry, “sir, I forgot—about fire—they were coming at me and I panicked —”
“Quite understandable,” murmured Dumbledore. Harry was alarmed to hear how faint his voice was.
They reached the bank with a little bump and Harry leapt out, then turned quickly to help Dumbledore. The moment that Dumbledore reached the bank he let his wand hand
fall; the ring of fire vanished, but the Inferi did not emerge again from the water. The little boat sank into the water once more; clanking and tinkling, its chain
slithered back into the lake too. Dumbledore gave a great sigh and leaned against the cavern wall.
“I am weak...” he said.
“Don't worry, sir,” said Harry at once, anxious about Dumbledore's extreme pallor and by his air of exhaustion. “Don't worry, I'll get us back... lean on me, sir...
”
And pulling Dumbledore's uninjured arm around his shoulders, Harry guided his headmaster back around the lake, bearing most of his weight.
“The protection was... after all... well-designed,” said Dumbledore faintly. “One alone could not have done it... you did well, very well, Harry...”
“Don't talk now,” said Harry, fearing how slurred Dumbledore's voice had become, how much his feet dragged, “save your energy, sir... we'll soon be out of here...”
“The archway will have sealed again... my knife ...”
“There's no need, I got cut on the rock,” said Harry firmly. “Just tell me where...”
“Here...”
Harry wiped his grazed forearm upon the stone: having received its tribute of blood, the archway reopened instantly. They crossed the outer cave, and Harry helped
Dumbledore back into the icy seawater that filled the crevice in the cliff.
“It's going to be all right, sir,” Harry said over and over again, more worried by Dumbledore's silence than he had been by his weakened voice. “We're nearly
there... I can Apparate us both back... don't worry...”
“I am not worried, Harry,” said Dumbledore, his voice a little stronger despite the freezing water. “I am with you.”
哈利可以嗅到盐的气息，听到奔涌的海浪；眼前是撒满月光的海面和繁星闪耀的天空，寒冷的微风吹散了他的头发。他正站在一块高高的黑色岩石上，海水在他脚下翻腾起无数的泡沫。哈利转
过头看了一眼身后。那儿矗立一座高耸陡峭的悬崖，在黑暗中若隐若现。周围那些巨大的岩石，包括哈利和邓布利多脚下的那块，看起来就像是过去从悬崖上的某个地方坍塌下来的一样。眼前
的一幕荒凉萧瑟；岩石上完全没有一草一木，连一粒沙子都没有。
“你觉得如何？”邓布利多问。就好像在问这里是不是野餐的好地方。
“他们就带孤儿院的孩子们到这儿来？”哈利问，他想象不出还有什么地方比这儿更不适合远足了。
“准确地说，不是这儿，”邓布利多说。“大约沿着我们身后的悬崖走到一半，那儿有一个勉强称得上是村庄的地方。我相信他们是把孤儿们带到了那儿，去吹吹海风，看看波浪。不，我
想只有里德尔和那两个小小年纪的受害者造访过这里。没有麻瓜能到达这块岩石，除非他们是异常优秀的登山家，而且船也到不了这块峭壁；这一带的水太危险了。我猜想里德尔是从上面爬下
来的；魔法本来要比绳子更合适。他还带着两个小孩子，也许是为了享受恐吓他们的乐趣吧。这趟旅行本身就足够吓着他们了，你说呢？”
哈利再次仰望着悬崖，起了一身鸡皮疙瘩。
“不过他最终的目的地——也是我们的目的地——还在前面有点儿远的地方。来吧。”
邓布利多招呼哈利走到岩石边上，踩着一组坑坑洼洼的石窝作为立足点往下向下走，一直走到半浸没在水中的礁石上，离悬崖更近了。这是个危险的陡坡，而邓布利多稍微有些被他那只干
瘪的手所拖累，慢慢地移动着。更矮处的礁石被海水浸得越来越滑。哈利可以感觉到咸咸的冰凉水花溅到了他的脸上。
“荧光闪烁，”邓布利多到达了离悬崖最近的一块礁石。在他所蹲的地方下面几英尺就是海水了，海面上倒映出了上千个金色的光点；旁边那些黑乎乎的岩壁也被照亮了。
“看见了吗？”邓布利多平静地说，把魔杖又举高了一点。哈利看到峭壁上有一条裂缝，漆黑的海水正不断地打着卷往里面涌。“你不反对自己稍微湿一些吧？”
“不，”哈利说。
“那么脱下你的隐形斗篷——现在用不上它——我们跳吧。”
邓布利多突然以年轻得多的人才有的敏捷滑下了礁石，跳进了海水，他用牙齿咬着发光的魔杖，以标准的蛙泳姿势向峭壁上漆黑的裂缝游去。哈利拉下隐形斗篷塞进口袋，跟了上去。
水很冰凉；浸透的衣服在哈利周围翻腾，拉着他往下沉。哈利深吸了一口气，鼻孔里满是盐和海草的浓烈味道，他向那正往峭壁深处移动的渐渐缩小的亮光奋力游去。
裂缝很快就变成了一条黑黑的隧道，哈利看得出这里涨潮时会完全被海水吞没。两侧粘乎乎的墙相距仅三英尺远，在邓布利多魔杖照射的下像湿沥青一样闪闪发光。通道在前面不远处弯向
了左边，哈利看见它一直延伸到了悬崖的深处。他继续跟在邓布利多后面游泳，冻僵的手指尖不断地掠过粗糙、潮湿的岩石。
然后哈利看到前面的邓布利多从水里出来了，银发和黑袍都闪着微弱的光。哈利到达那个地方之后发现了一组通往一大洞穴的台阶。他攀上台阶，暴露在了寂静、冰冻的空气之中，水从他
浸透的衣服上滴下来，他不由自主地发起了抖。
邓布利多站在洞穴中间，他高举着魔杖慢慢原地转动，检查着墙壁和顶棚。
“是的，就是这个地方，”邓布利多说。
“你怎么知道？”哈利低声说。
“它认得魔法，”邓布利多简单地说。
哈利不知道他的哆嗦该归因于从脊髓深处传来的凉意，还是归因于让他感受到了同样凉意的魔法。他注视着邓布利多继续原地转圈。显然正专注于某个哈利看不到的事物上。
“这里只是密室前面，是个门厅，”邓布利多过了一会儿才说。“我们需要往里走……现在挡路的就是伏地魔设下的障碍，而不仅是那些天然屏障了……”
邓布利多走近洞穴的墙，用他发黑的指尖轻轻摩挲着墙面，咕哝着一些哈利听不懂的奇怪语言。邓布利多沿着墙壁绕了两圈，尽可能多地触摸这些岩石，偶尔停顿一下，在个别的点上反复
摸索，最后他终于停了下来，手掌平按在墙上。
“这里，”他说。“我们穿过这里继续走。入口是藏着的。”
哈利没有问邓布利多是如何知道的。他还从没见过一个巫师仅靠观察和触摸就能解决问题；但哈利早就懂得了通常不称职的巫师才会弄出巨响和烟雾。
邓布利多从墙壁那儿退回来，用魔杖指向岩石。片刻后，那个地方显现出了一条弧形的轮廓，散发着白色的光芒，仿佛缝隙后有强光在照射一样。
“你成－成功了！”哈利打着牙颤说，可是话出口之前轮廓就消失了。岩石又回到了从前光秃秃的坚硬状态。邓布利多回过头。
“哈利，对不起，我忘记了，”他说；他马上把魔杖指向了哈利，哈利的衣服迅速变得温暖而干爽，仿佛在一团火上烤过一样。
“谢谢，”哈利感激地说，但邓布利多已经重新把注意力转向了那面坚固的洞壁。他没有再试着施魔法，只是站在那专心的凝视着它，仿佛那上面写了什么极为有趣的东西。哈利静静地站
着；他不想打破邓布利多的专注。
整整两分钟之后，邓布利多平静地说，“哦，想必不是。如此野蛮。”
“怎么了，教授？”
“我倾向于认为，”邓布利多说，他未受伤的那只手伸进袍子掏出了一把小银刀，就是哈利经常用来切魔药原料的那种，“我们被要求付出代价才能通过。”
“代价？”哈利说。“你得送这扇门一些东西吗？”
“是的，”邓布利多说。“血，如果我没弄错的话。”
“血？”
“我说过这很野蛮，”邓布利多说，听起来有些轻蔑，甚至是失望，好像伏地魔没有达到邓布利多原先期望的水准一样。“我敢肯定你能推断出，这个主意意味着你的敌人必须先削弱自己
才能进去。伏地魔又一次没能领会这个世界上还有比身体创伤更可怕的事情。”
“是啊，可尽管如此，如果你可以避免它……”哈利说，他已经经历了足够多的痛苦，不太在乎再多受一点。
“然而有时候，这是不可避免的，”邓布利多挽起袖子露出了他那只受伤的手的前臂。
“教授！”哈利提出了异议，他在邓布利多举起小刀的同时匆忙走上前去，“我来吧，我——”
他不知道该说什么——更年轻，更健康？但邓布利多仅仅在微笑。一道银光闪过，猩红色的鲜血喷射而出。岩石的表面溅满了闪着光的深色血滴。
“谢谢你，哈利，”邓布利多说，他把魔杖尖沿着胳膊上自己切出的深口子划过，于是伤口立即愈合了，正如斯内普治愈马尔福的伤口那样。“但你的血比我的更有价值，啊，那看起来已
经起效了，对不对？”
墙上银亮的轮廓再次显现了出来，这次它没有消褪：溅满血的岩石完全消失了，留下了一个缺口通向完全的黑暗之中。
“跟在我后面，”邓布利多说，他跨进了拱门，而哈利则急忙点亮了自己的魔杖紧跟在后面。
他们眼前出现了一幅诡异的景象：他们正站在一个巨大的黑湖边上，大到哈利都辨认不出远端的湖岸了，他们是在一个高不见顶的巨大洞穴里。远远的湖中央放射出迷雾般的绿光；倒映在
犹如一潭死水的湖面上。尽管这片绿光和两支魔杖放出的光并没有射得像哈利预想的那么远，但除了它们没有什么能打破周遭天鹅绒般的黑暗。不知何故，比起别的地方，这里的黑暗要更加稠
密。
“走吧，”邓布利多平静地说。“千万小心别踏进着水。紧紧跟着我。”
他沿着湖边出发了，哈利紧紧地跟在他后面。他们在湖边的一圈狭窄岩石上踏出的脚步声回荡开来。他们不停地走啊走啊，但眼前的景象却没有变化：一边是粗糙的洞壁，另一边则是一片
无边无际、光滑得像玻璃一样的黑暗。它的正中间是那团神秘的绿光。哈利发现这地方和这里的寂静让人感到十分压抑，身心俱疲。
“教授？”他终于开口说话了。“你认为灵魂碎片是在这儿吗？”
“哦，是的，”邓布利多说。“是的，我敢肯定是在这儿，问题是，我们怎么拿到它？”
“我们能不能……我们能不能试一下飞来咒呢？”哈利说，他相信这一定是个愚蠢的建议，但他急不可待地想尽快离开这地方了。
“当然可以，”邓布利多突然停了下来，哈利差点撞上他。“你为什么不试试看呢？”
“我？哦……好的……”
哈利没想到会是这样，但他还是清了清嗓子，举起魔杖大喊一声，“灵魂碎片飞来！”
随着一声爆炸似的巨响，一个巨大的灰白色物体从二十英尺远的黑暗湖水里喷了出来。哈利还没来得及看清楚是什么，它就已经随着一片爆裂的水花消失了，水面上被激起了又大又深的波
纹。哈利震惊地跳了回来，撞到了墙上；他转向邓布利多时心脏仍然砰砰地剧烈跳动着。
“那是什么？”
“我想，那东西是准备好的，一旦我们尝试夺取灵魂碎片就会做出反应。”
哈利转过身看着湖水。水面又一次成了亮晶晶的黑玻璃：波纹消失得不同寻常的快；而哈利的心却还在砰砰地跳动。
“你已经想到会发生那事了吗，教授？”
“我想一旦我们作出某种明显的努力去拿灵魂碎片，就会有什么事发生。那是个非常棒的主意，哈利；要想弄清楚我们面对的是什么，这是最简单的方法。”
“可我们还是不知道那东西是什么，”哈利看着光滑得有些不祥的湖水。
“你得说那些东西是什么，”邓布利多说。“我非常怀疑可能还有更多。我们继续往前走吧？”
“教授？”
“什么，哈利？”
“你觉不觉得我们必须得进到湖里面？”
“进到湖里面？除非我们非常不走运。”
“你不认为灵魂碎片是在湖底吗？”
“哦，不……我觉得灵魂碎片在湖中央。”
邓布利多指了指湖心的那团迷雾般的绿光。
“这么说我们必须得穿过湖去拿它了？”
“是的，我想是这样。”
哈利什么也没说。他此刻脑子里全是水怪、巨蟒、恶魔、马形水怪……
“啊哈，”邓布利多又停了下来；这次哈利真的撞上他了；一时间他向湖里摔了过去，邓布利多用他未受伤的手紧紧抓住了哈利的上臂，把他拽了回来。“真对不起，哈利，我应该先提醒
你一下的。请向后靠着墙站好。我想我已经找出那个地方。”
哈利一点也不知道邓布利多是什么意思；就哈利所知，这一小片昏暗的湖岸和其他各处都没什么不同。但邓布利多似乎已经察觉了它的特殊之处。这一次他没有沿着岩壁而是在稀薄的空气
中挥着他的手，仿佛期待着发现并抓住某个看不见的东西。
“哦，”几秒钟之后邓布利多高兴地说。他的手在半空中握住了一个哈利看不见的东西。邓布利多向水边移近了些；哈力紧张的注视着邓布利多，后者脚下带扣的鞋子已经到达了岩石的最
外缘。邓布利多把手牢牢地握在半空中，另一手则举起魔杖用杖尖敲了敲那只拳头。
一个绿色的粗铜链立即出现在空气中，从湖水深处一直延伸到邓布利多紧握的手中。邓布利多敲了敲铜链，它像蛇一样地在他手中滑动，在地上卷了起来，叮叮当当的响声在岩石墙壁上回
荡，黑色的湖水深处，有一个东西被铜链拉了上来。一个幽灵般的船头破水而出，哈利不由得倒抽了一口气，这只小船和铜链一样发着绿光。伴随着仅有的一条波纹，小船向哈利和邓布利多所
站的岸边漂了过来。
“你怎么知道它在那儿？”哈利惊奇地问。
“魔法总会留下痕迹，”邓布利多说，这时小船轻柔地撞击上湖岸，“有时候痕迹会非常明显。我教过汤姆·里德尔。我了解他的风格。”
“这……这条船安全吗？”
“哦，是的，我想是安全的。伏地魔需要创造方法渡湖，而不激起被他安置在湖里的那些生物的愤怒，以防万一他想要查看或者移走灵魂碎片。”
“这么说如果我们坐伏地魔的船渡湖的话，水里的那些东西就不会对我们做任何事了吧？”
“我想，我们只有顺从于这个事实，它们会在某个时候意识到我们不是伏地魔。然而迄今为止，我们做得还不错。它们已经让我们把船拉了出来。”
“可是它们怎么会让我们拉呢？”哈利问，他脑子里摆脱不了等湖岸都看不见了之后黑水里伸出触手的情景。
“伏地魔一定相当自信没人能找出这条船，除非那人是一个非常伟大的巫师，”邓布利多说。“我想他也做好了最不可能的事情——在他看来——发生的准备，也就是有其他人找到了它，
因为他已经在前面设下了只有他自己才可能通过的其他屏障。我们会看到他是不是正确的。”
哈利低下头看了看船。它真的非常小。
“它看上去不像是为搭载两个人而建造的。它能容纳我们两个人吗？我们加在一起是不是太重了？”
邓布利多咯咯地笑了起来。
“伏地魔不会在意重量，而是在乎通过湖水的魔法能力的数量。我相信这条船上一定有一个魔法以确保里面一次只能有一个巫师。”
“可是那么——？”
“我觉得你不会被计算在内，哈利：你没有成年，也没有取得资格。伏地魔绝没有想到会有一个十六岁的孩子到达这个地方：我觉得你的魔法能力与我的比起来，不太可能被能记录下来。
”
这些话没能提升哈利的士气；也许邓布利多觉察了，因为他又补充道，“伏地魔的错误，哈利，伏地魔的错误……年龄是个愚蠢而健忘的家伙，如果它低估了年轻人的话……现在，这次你
先上去，注意别碰到水。”
邓布利多站到一边，让哈利小心翼翼地登上了船。然后邓布利多也跨了进来，把链条绕好放到船板上。他们两个挤在一起；哈利不是舒服地坐着，而是蜷缩地蹲在那儿，两只膝盖已经伸出
了船舷，这时船开动了。除了船头劈水而行的轻柔的沙沙声，周围一片寂静；小船无需人力就能开动，仿佛是有一条无形的绳索在把往中央的光亮处拉。他们很快就看不见洞壁了；除了没有波
浪，一切都像行驶在海里一样。
哈利低头往下看去，他们经过水面时魔杖在黑色的水面上反射出了点点金光，小船在玻璃般的水面上切出了深深的波纹，在黑色的镜子上刻出了深深的槽。
然后哈利看见了一个东西，像大理石一样白，漂在水面下几英寸的地方。
“教授！”他震惊的声音回荡在安静的湖面上。
“哈利？”
“我想我看到了水里有一只手——一只人手！”
“是的，我敢肯定你看见了，”邓布利多平静地说。
哈利盯着水里找寻那只消失的手，他喉头泛起一阵做呕的感觉。
“这么说，从水里跳出来的就是那个东西——？”
但是在邓布利多回答之前哈利就获得了答案；魔杖的光滑到了一片新的水域，这次映出了一个仰卧在水面下几英尺处的死人：他睁开的眼睛模糊不清，仿佛罩上了蜘蛛网一样，他的头发和
袍子像烟雾一样绕着他。
“这里有尸体！”哈利的声音提高了，听起来不像是他自己的。
“是的，”邓布利多心平气和地说，“但是我们此刻不必担心它们。”
“此刻？”哈利重复道，他把视线从水面移到邓布利多脸上。
“就是当它们只是宁静地漂在我们下面的时候，”邓布利多说。“尸体没什么可怕的，哈利，和黑暗一样都没什么可怕的。伏地魔不这么认为，他当然背地里两个都怕。但是他再次暴露出
了智慧的缺乏。我们面对死亡和黑暗时，害怕的是它们的未知，没什么别的。”
哈利什么也没说；他不想争辩，但是他一想到他们周围和身下漂着尸体就觉得很恐惧，更何况他不相信它们没有危险性。
“但是它们跳出来了一个，”他努力想让自己的声音和邓布利多一样平和。“我试着召唤一个灵魂碎片的时候，一具尸体从湖里跳了出来。”
“是的，”邓布利多说。“我敢肯定等我们拿到灵魂碎片之后，就会发现它们没那么和平了。然而，就像许多居住在寒冷和黑暗中的生物一样，他们害怕光明和温暖，如果需要，我们可以
召唤光明和温暖来保护自己。火，哈利，”邓布利多微笑地加了一句，以回应哈利迷惑的表情。
“哦……好的……”哈利迅速说。他转过头去看那团绿光，小船还在不屈不挠地驶向它。他现在无法假装自己不害怕了。巨大的黑湖，盛满了尸体……他遇见特里劳妮教授和把飞力飞思给
罗恩与赫敏，这些似乎都是很多个小时之前的事情了……他突然希望自己和他们好好地道过别……还有，他还根本没有见金妮……
“快到了，”邓布利多愉快地说。
果然，绿光终于变大了，几分钟以后，小船轻轻地撞到了什么东西上面停了下来，哈利一开始没看出来那是什么，举起发光的魔杖之后才发现他们到达了一个由光滑的岩石构成的湖心岛上
。
“小心别碰到水，”哈利爬出船的时候邓布利多又说了一遍。
这个岛不比邓布利多的办公室大，一块平坦的黑石头上面什么也没有，只搁着绿光的光源，光在走近了之后显得更亮了。哈利眯起眼睛看着它；起初他以为是一种灯，可随后发现光是从一
个很像冥想盆的石盆里发出来的，石盆被搁在一个底座上。
邓布利多向石盆靠拢了过去，哈利跟在他后面。他们肩并肩一起往里面看。石盆盛满了放着磷光的翠绿色液体。
“这是什么？”哈利轻声问。
“我不能确定，”邓布利多说。“然而，它是一种比血和尸体更令人不安的东西。”
邓布利多把袖子挽到发黑的手臂上，烧伤的指尖伸向了药水的表面。
“教授，不，别碰——！”
“我碰不到，”邓布利多微弱地笑了笑。“看到了吗？我没法再靠近了。你试试。”
哈利目不转睛地把手伸向了石盆，试图触摸到药水。他遇到了一个无形的屏障，没法接近它周围一英寸的地方。不管他多么用力地去推，手指都只能碰到似乎是坚固而僵硬的空气。
“请让开，哈利，”邓布利多说。
他举起魔杖在药水上方做了一组复杂的动作，无声地念叨着。什么也没发生，或许药水变得更亮了些。邓布利多做这些的时候哈利保持着沉默，可过了一会儿邓布利多收回了魔杖，哈利此
时开口已经安全了。
“你觉得灵魂碎片在这里面吗，教授？”
“哦，是的。”邓布利多更接近地凝视着石盆。哈利看到他的脸倒映在了绿色药水光滑的表面上。“但怎么才能拿到它呢？不能把手伸进这药水，不能被倒掉、分离、舀起和吸走，也不能
被变形、施咒语和用别的方法来来改变它。”
邓布利多差不多是心不在焉地再次举起了魔杖，在空中划了个圈，然后抓住了一个不知从哪里变出来的水晶高脚杯。
“我只能下结论说这药水是用来喝的。”
“什么？”哈利说。“不！”
“是的，我想是这样：只有喝掉它才能把石盆清空，看看下面究竟放着什么。”
“但要是——要是它会杀了你呢？”
“哦，我怀疑它不会有这样的作用，”邓布利多轻松地说。“伏地魔不会想杀死到达这个小岛的人。”
哈利不敢相信。这又是邓布利多在愚蠢地坚信每个人都有好的一面吗？
“教授，”哈利试图让自己的声音保持理智。“教授，我么面对的是伏地魔——”
“对不起，哈利；我应该这样说，他不会想立刻杀死到达这个小岛的人，”邓布利多更正了自己的话。“他会让他们活得足够长，以便查出他们是怎样穿透他的防御走到这么远的，最重要
的是，为什么他们要清空这个石盆。别忘了伏地魔相信只有他自己知道灵魂碎片的事。”
哈利想再说话，但这次邓布利多却抬起手示意他安静，他对着翠绿色的液体微微皱着眉，显然是在苦苦地思索。
“毫无疑问，”他终于开口了，“这个药水的作用一定是让我无法拿走灵魂碎片。它也许会让我麻痹，让我忘记自己到这儿是来干什么的，产生巨大的痛苦来让我分心，或者用别的什么方
式使我丧失能力。既然如此，哈利，你的任务就是要确保我不停地喝下去，即使你得把药水灌进我的嘴里。你明白吗？”
他们的视线在石盆上方相遇了，怪诞的绿光映在两张苍白的脸上。哈利没有说话。这就是他被邀请同行的原因吗——以便他能给邓布利多强行灌进一种可能会让人痛不欲生的药水？
“你还记得我同意带你来的条件吗？” 邓布利多说。
哈利犹豫了，他盯着邓布利多的蓝眼睛，现在那眼睛被石盆里的光映成了绿色。
“可要是——？”
“你发过誓要遵守我给你的任何命令，是不是？”
“是的，但是——”
“我也警告过你可能会有危险，是不是？”
“是的，”哈利说，“但是——”
“那么，好，”邓布利多又挽起了袖子，举起那只空的高脚杯，“照我的命令行动。”
“为什么不能让我来代替你喝这药水呢？”哈利绝望地问。
“因为我更老，更聪明，也更没有价值，”邓布利多说。“最后说一次，哈利，你能向我保证会尽全力确保我喝下去吗？”
“就不能——？”
“你保证？”
“但是——”
“你的保证，哈利。”
“我——好吧，但是——”
在哈利再次抗议之前，邓布利多把水晶高脚杯放进了药水之中。有那么一瞬间，哈利希望他没办法用高脚杯碰到药水，但是那块水晶没进了水面，什么也没有发生；高脚杯盛满了之后，邓
布利多把它举到了嘴边。
“祝你健康，哈利。”
他一饮而尽。哈利惊恐地注视着他，手用力地捏着石盆的边缘，连指尖都麻了。
“教授？”他不安地说，邓布利多又把空杯子放了下来。“你感觉怎么样？”
邓布利多摇了摇头，闭上了眼睛。哈利怀疑他是不是正在忍受疼痛。邓布利多闭着眼把杯子插回了石盆，重新盛满它，又喝了下去。
邓布利多在一片沉默中喝掉了满满三杯药水。然后，在第四杯喝到一半时，他摇晃了一下，跌向了石盆。他的眼睛仍然闭着，呼吸很沉重。
“邓布利多教授？”哈利的声音绷得很紧。“你能听见我吗？”
邓布利多没有回答。他的脸在抽搐，好像睡得很熟，却又在做一个可怕的梦。他握着高脚杯的手渐渐松开了；里面的药水就快要洒出来了。哈利伸出手抓住酒杯，把它扶稳了。
“教授，你能听见我吗？”他大声地重复道，声音在巨大的洞穴里回荡。
邓布利多喘了喘气，然后用一种哈利认不出来的声音说起了话，他从没有见到邓布利多像这样害怕过。
“我不想……别让我……”
哈利盯着那张发白的熟悉面孔，盯着高耸的鼻子和半月形的眼镜，不知道该做什么。
“……不喜欢……想停下……”邓布利多呻吟道。
“你……你不能停下，教授。”哈利说。“你得不停地喝下去，记得吗？你告诉过我你得不停地喝下去。给……”
哈利把高脚杯强行送到邓布利多嘴边，然后把酒往里灌，于是邓布利多喝下了里面剩余的药水，他恨自己，很厌恶自己现在的做法。
“不……”见哈利把高脚杯放进石盆又为他盛满了一杯，他呻吟道。“我不想要……我不想要……让我走……”
“没事的，教授。”哈利的手在发抖。“没事的，我在这儿——”
“让它停下，让它停下，”邓布利多呻吟道。
“好……好，这样就能让它停下。”哈利撒了个谎。他把高脚杯里的东西倒进了邓布利多张开的嘴。
邓布利多尖叫了起来，他的声音在整个洞穴里回荡，越过了死气沉沉的黑色湖水。
“不，不，不……不……我不能……我不能，别逼我，我不想要……”
“没事的，教授，没事的！”哈利大声说，他的手抖得如此厉害，几乎都没法把第六杯药水盛出来；石盆现在已经空了一半。“你没有出事，你很安全，这不是真的，我发誓这不是真的—
—喝了它，现在，喝了它……”
邓布利多顺从地喝了下去，仿佛哈利给他喝的是解药。但是一喝干这一杯，他就跪了下去，不由自主地颤抖起来。
“这都是我的错，都是我的错，”他呜咽着说，“请让它停下来，我知道我错了，哦，请让它停下来，我永远，永远不会再……”
“这样就能让它停下来，教授，”哈利说，他给邓布利多灌进第七杯药水时，嗓子已经哑了。
邓布利多开始退缩了，仿佛周围有看不见的酷吏在折磨他；他胡乱挥舞的手差一点打翻了哈利手中颤巍巍的高脚杯，它已经再次盛满了药水，他呻吟着说，“别伤害他们，别伤害他们，求
求你，求求你，是我的错，伤害我吧……”
“给，喝下这个，喝下这个，你就没事了，”哈利绝望地说，邓布利多再一次服从了他，他张开嘴，眼睛却还是紧紧地闭着，从头到脚都在颤抖。
这一次他向前扑倒了，再次尖叫起来，用拳头捶打着地面，与此同时哈利去盛满了第九杯。
“求你，求你，求你，不……不要那样，不要那样，我什么都愿意做……”
“只要喝了它，教授，只要喝了它……”
邓布利多就像一个快要渴死的孩子一样喝了起来，但是他一喝完，就再次大叫了起来，仿佛五脏六腑都着了火似的。
“不要了，求求你，不要了……”
哈利盛了第十杯药水，感觉水晶已经刮到了盆底。
“我们就要结束了，教授，喝了它，喝了它……”
他支撑起邓布利多的肩膀，邓布利多再次一饮而尽；然后哈利又站起来重新盛了一杯，而此时邓布利多开始尖叫起来，听上去痛苦得无以复加，“我想死了！我想死了！让它停下，让它停
下，我想死了！”
“喝了它，教授，喝了它……”
邓布利多喝了起来，刚一喝完就大叫一声，“杀了我！”
“这——这杯就完了！”哈利气喘吁吁地，“就喝这杯……就结束了……都结束了！”
邓布利多大口大口地把药水吞了下去，喝得一滴也不剩，然后他咯咯作响地大喘了一口气，脸朝下滚到了地上。
“不！”哈利大喊，他刚才正重新往高脚杯里盛药水；他把杯子扔到石盆里，扑到邓布利多身边把他翻了过来；邓布利多的眼镜歪到了一边，嘴巴张着，眼睛却闭着。“不，”哈利摇晃着
邓布利多，“不，你没有死，你说过这不是毒药。醒过来，醒过来——快快复苏！”他哭喊着用魔杖指向邓布利多的胸膛；一道红光射出，可什么也没发生。“快快复苏——教授——求你了—
—”
邓布利多的眼皮颤动了一下；哈利的心跳加剧了。
“教授，你——？”
“水，”邓布利多嘶哑地说。
“水，”哈利气喘吁吁地哈所，“——对了——”
他跳起来，抓起扔在石盆里的高脚杯；几乎没有注意到那里面放着一个金色的盒式坠子。
“清水涟涟，”他大喊，用魔杖猛戳高脚杯。
高脚杯里充满了清水；哈利跪到邓布利多身边，扶起他的头，把杯子送到了他的唇边——可是杯子空了。邓布利多呻吟着，开始喘粗气。
“可我刚才有——等等——清水涟涟！”哈利用魔杖指向高脚杯再次说。片刻后，杯子里再次出现了闪闪发亮的清水，可他刚一拿到邓布利多嘴边，水又消失了。
“教授，我在试，我在试！”哈利绝望地说，但他觉得邓布利多听不见他的声音；他翻过来侧身卧着，响亮地喘息声听起来痛苦得难以忍受。“清水涟涟——清水涟涟——清水涟涟！”
高脚杯再一次充满了之后又消失了。而此刻邓布利多的呼吸正渐渐地衰弱。哈利恐慌地思索着，他本能地想到了唯一可以得到水的途径，因为伏地魔即使这样计划的……
他冲到岩石边把杯子插入湖水中，灌了满满一杯冰凉的湖水，水没有再消失掉了。
“教授——给！”哈利一边喊一边向邓布利多冲去，把水笨拙地倒在了邓布利多的脸上。
他不可能做得更好了，因为他没有握杯子的那只手臂上的冰凉感觉并非湖水挥之不去的寒意。一直粘糊糊的白手抓住了他的手腕，拥有这只手的生物正在慢慢地往岩石后面拉他。湖面不再
是像镜子那样光滑了；湖里波涛翻滚，每一个哈利看得到的地方都有白色的头和手从黑水里冒出来，眼窝深陷、双目失明的男人、女人和孩子正在往岩石的方向移动：黑色的湖水中升起了一支
由死人组成的军队。
“统统石化！”哈利大喊着，他挣扎着紧紧抱住小岛湿滑的表面，同时把魔杖指向了正抓着他的那个阴飞力：它松开了他，向后跌进湖，溅起了一片水花。哈利爬了起来；但是更多的阴飞
力已经爬上了岩石。它们瘦骨嶙峋的手抓在岩石光滑的表面上，空洞无神的眼睛则盯着他，凹陷的脸上不怀好意。
“统统石化！”哈利再次吼道，边后退边在空中挥舞魔杖；六七个阴飞力倒下了，但更多的正在向他靠近。“障碍重重！速速禁锢！”
它们中有几个跌倒了，有一两个被绳子绑了起来。但是后爬上岩石的阴飞力只是迈过甚至踏过了倒下的尸体。哈利仍然疯狂地乱挥着魔杖，大喊道，“刀光剑影！刀光剑影！”
虽然它们湿透的衣服和冰冷的皮肤上被划出了深深的伤口，却无血可流：它们无情地往前走着，向他伸出了皱巴巴的手，他又后退了几步，感到背后有一双皮包着骨的手臂抱住了他，冰凉
得就像死人的胳膊一样，他的双脚离开了地面，它们举起他，缓慢而又坚定地往水里抬去，哈利知道它们不会放开他了，他将被淹死，成为另一个死亡卫士，去守护一段伏地魔支离破碎的灵魂
……
忽然，一道火光划破黑暗喷射了出来：一圈深红色和金色的火焰包围了岩石，于是紧紧抓着哈利的阴飞力跌倒了，步履蹒跚了起来；它们不敢穿过火焰回到水里。于是哈利被他们抛了下来
；他摔到地面，从岩石上滑了下来，胳膊也擦伤了，可是他又爬了起来，举起魔杖环顾着四周。
邓布利多又站起来了，脸色和周围的阴飞力一样苍白，却比它们都要高。火焰在他的眼睛里跳动；他举着像火把一样的魔杖，火焰从它的末端发射出来，像一个巨大的套索把他们温暖地围
绕了起来。
阴飞力相互撞到了一起，试图摸索着逃出困住它们的烈火……
邓布利多从石盆底部捞起盒式坠子塞进了袍子里。他无声地招呼哈利走到他身边。阴飞力们被火焰分散了注意力，没有发现他们的猎物正在离开，此时邓布利多带着哈利往小船的方向去了
，火圈一直跟着他们移动，环绕着他们，不知所措的阴飞力跟着他们到了水边，谢天谢地的是，它们全都滑进了黑色的湖水之中。
哈利浑身发抖，一度以为邓布利多无法爬进小船了；他往里爬的时候晃了一下；他似乎把全部的精力都花在了维持那个保护他们的火圈上了。哈利抓着他帮他进入了小船。他们刚一安全地
挤在了一起，船就开始穿过黑色的湖水往回开，远离了那块岩石。火圈仍然环绕在他们俩周围，云集在他们下面的阴飞力似乎也不敢再露出水面了。
“教授，”哈利气喘吁吁地说，“教授，我忘了——火——他们朝我走过来，我很慌——”
“非常谅解，”邓布利多低声说。哈利惊恐地发现他的声音是如此的虚弱。
他们的船轻轻撞了一下，抵达了湖岸，哈利跳出来后赶紧转过身去帮邓布利多。邓布利多刚一踏上湖岸就垂下了握着魔杖的手；火圈消失了，可是阴飞力没有再从水中冒出来。小船再次沉
入了水中；链子也叮叮当当地滑回了湖里。邓布利多重重地叹了口气，靠在了洞壁上。
“我很虚弱……”他说。
“别担心，教授，”哈利马上说，对邓布利多的极度苍白和精疲力竭的样子感到担忧。“别担心，我会带我们出去……靠着我，教授……”
哈利将邓布利多那只没有受伤的手臂搭在自己肩上，带着他的校长绕着湖岸往回走，他支撑起了邓布利多的大部分重量。
“这保护真是……归根到底……想得很周到，”邓布利多虚弱地说。“独自一人绝不会成功，你做得很好，非常好，哈利……”
“现在不要说话，”哈利担心地说。他害怕地注意到邓布利多的声音是如此的含糊不清，脚步是如此的迟缓费力，“节省你的能量，教授……我们很快就能离开这儿……”
“拱门一定又被封上了……我的小刀……”
“不用了，我刚刚在石头上割破了，”哈利坚定地说，“只要告诉我在哪儿……”
“这里……”
哈利用他擦伤的前臂拂过石头：收到他的馈赠之后拱门立即打开了。他们穿过了外面的岩洞，哈利帮助邓布利多回到了填入峭壁悬崖的冰冷海水之中。
“你不会有事的，教授，”哈利一遍一遍地说。比起邓布利多虚弱的声音，哈利现在更担心的是他的寂静。“我们快到了……我可以用幻影显形把我们都带回去……别担心……”
“我一点也不担心，哈利，”邓布利多说，尽管海水冰凉，但他的声音听起来却稍微坚强了些。“有你和我在一起。”
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