He was in Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore sat at his desk, looking grave, but expectant.
"Professor?" asked Harry, feeling confused. He'd just been in his room, holding the ring. How had he ended up here, in Dumbledore's office?
"Ah, Severus, you're here," said Dumbledore, looking at a point just over Harry's left shoulder.
"Still obsessed with stating the obvious," said Snape.
Harry whirled around. What was going on here? He reached out to Snape and gasped when his hand passed right through him. He must be in a memory, but how was that even possible? He hadn't been near a Pensieve. Harry stopped wondering when Snape walked over and sat across from Dumbledore.
"The hand?" asked Snape.
Dumbledore shook back his robe sleeve and held out his blackened right hand to Snape, who inspected it carefully and waved his wand over it several times.
"I believe the poison has stopped spreading, but one last dose should make sure of that," said Snape. He pulled a small vial of crystal blue potion out of his robes and offered it to Dumbledore.
"Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore and drank. "You do know what this means? The vow—"
"I do," interrupted Snape. "It will give me no pleasure to assist in your mad plan of suicide. He will find a way to make the wand work for him."
"There is no other way. I have researched quite thoroughly. I am glad to give my life knowing it will lead to Voldemort's death," said Dumbledore softly as he picked up a wand that Harry recognized as the Elder Wand. "And in the event that I fail to break the power of the wand, Harry is to have it, along with the ring. I do not wish the temptation of the Hallows upon him, but I am sure he will be able to resist where I have failed. With the Hallows, he will defeat Voldemort. There is no doubt about it. He will master the Hallows."
"The last enemy…" said Snape.
"Yes," said Dumbledore simply. "You know what to do after my death?"
"We've covered this over and over, Headmaster. The plan is ready to be in place immediately after…"
Dumbledore's office rapidly faded away, leaving Harry in darkness, feeling as though he was at the bottom of the lake at Hogwarts again. He could hear vague snatches of conversation, but nothing he could understand.
Finally, after laying for who knew how long, Harry started to be able to see a little bit of light. However, he couldn't move, not even his eyelids. He couldn't tell what he was laying on, either. It was like he was dead.
Suddenly, one of his eyelids was pushed back, and he was forced to stare directly at wandlight in front of his eye. After what felt like a full minute of painful light, the wand was moved away and Harry could make out the blurred figure of Snape.
Snape release his eyelid and Harry could no longer tell what was going on, at least, until he felt his mouth pried open an a cold, slimy liquid poured down his throat. Harry panicked as he felt the liquid settle in the back of his throat, refusing to move. But he couldn't move himself either and he had no way to let Snape know. He couldn't breathe…
Just as he was about to move into unconsciousness, Harry felt his throat muscles relax and the liquid continued down to his stomach. He heard footsteps and a quiet click, and then there was silence…
Harry lay there for several minutes in maddening silence before he heard a voice say, "Potter."
Draco.
"I know you can't answer back, but I figured I'd talk to you, keep you company for a while."
He'd rather have silence.
"Severus is pretty worried, you know. He thought that ring was safe to touch. He only wanted to keep you from using it before it was time because its power is dangerous."
Snape should have tested it out himself first, then.
"He did check it out. I know you're thinking he didn't, if you can hear me, that is. I saw him do it myself. Nothing happened to him, I swear."
Yeah, right.
There was silence for a while, and Harry hoped Draco had given up and was going to leave, but then he spoke again.
"I—I wish you knew how sorry I am. I had no idea the Dark Lord was that insane. My father always spoke of him and the Dark Arts with such… reverence. I never knew anything different than what he told me. It's nothing more than groveling in the dirt and hoping he doesn't choose to punish you that day. I would have done anything to please him, but I've seen the truth. He's a master manipulator who likes to torture others for fun, including his followers. The power, riches, glory are all lies. I never got anything out of it but pain and a tattoo I can never be rid of."
Yeah, he says that now. Six years of enjoying terrorizing others. And now he was sorry? Draco Malfoy could go to hell.
Harry heard a soft click and footsteps came over to where he lay, still unable to move. His eyelids were opened again, and Harry once again saw the tip of Snape's wand. He tried to blink and shut out the light and felt the tiniest twitch of movement.
"His muscles are starting to respond. Hand me another vial of potion," said Snape.
Harry was once again forced to choke on the potion until his throat muscles kicked in and swallowed.
"Perhaps another few days and he'll be completely lucid."
No. He didn't want to lay here helpless and completely at the mercy of Snape and Draco.
Harry tried as hard as he could to move some part of his body, but not even his eyelids twitched now. It was hopeless.