Annabeth Chase and Things Are Getting Intense

Chapter Thirty Nine

The rock was completely smooth, just as the lake had been. No grooves or pebbles, no slopes except the ones at the very edge, where the stone bowed down to reach the water. It looked unnatural. It looked wrong.

But even more wrong was the basin from which the green glow was coming. It lit Harry and Dumbledore's (and probably Annabeth's, too) faces with it, tinting them lime in the dim cave. Slowly, the three of them approached the basin.

"What is it?" Annabeth asked, looking over it but not getting close enough to touch.

"I am not sure," Dumbledore said. "something more worrisome than blood or bodies, however."

Dumbledore pushed up his sleeves and stepped closer to the basin, reaching out for whatever potion was inside.

"Sir, no, don't touch—!"

"I cannot touch." Dumbledore smiled slightly, like he found this whole thing amusing. "See? I cannot approach any nearer than this. You try."

Cautiously, Annabeth approached the basin. She didn't know what this thing was. She was willing to bet that touching it was a bad idea, but it seemed to be the only way forward. Besides, she probably wouldn't be able to touch it anyway.

She was right. Her hand was stopped by what felt like cold, hard air. She ran her hand over the top of the basin, looking for a weak spot in the shield or somewhere that wasn't covered by it. She didn't find anything but that invisible barrier.

"Out of the way, please, Annabeth," Dumbledore said. He raised his wand and waved it around over the basin, murmuring words Annabeth couldn't hear. The potion glowed a little brighter, but other than that, nothing happened.

"You think the Horcrux is in there, sir?" Harry asked.

"Oh yes." Dumbledore looked more closely at the basin. The potion reflected his face back at him, tinted green. "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."

Annabeth studied the basin. It seemed to be fused to the stone pedestal it was set on, so tipping it over wasn't an option, either.

"I can only conclude," Dumbledore said, conjuring a silver goblet with his wand, "that this potion is supposed to be drunk."

"What?" Harry said. "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. Lord Voldemort would not want to kill the person who reached this island."

"Are you kidding?" Annabeth said.

"I'm sorry, Annabeth; I should have said, he would not want to immediately kill the person who reached this island," Dumbledore said. "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.

"Undoubtedly, 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 and Annabeth, 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?"

Harry and Annabeth shared a look. Was this the only reason they'd been allowed to come along? Much as she didn't like Dumbledore, Annabeth wasn't going to force-feed him a potion that would cause him immense pain.