IMO, yes. Dumbledore had to know that he was weak and/or dying from the potion he drank (look at the effort it took him to remain standing), and he'd been asking Harry to take him to Snape, not Pomfrey, ever since they returned to Hogsmeade. I'm thinking that he knew there was only one end to the evening for him, and he wanted Snape to benefit from his death--killing DD is going to add to his cachet amongst the DEs--as well as protect Draco from such a drastic action. The fact that Draco couldn't kill him when he had the chance supports DD's faith in both him and Snape.

I hate faith.

That doesn't make me a bad person, does it?

Death Eater.

Dammit.

JZ, thanks for the offer! But since the paperback is only $7, I decided to support my local independent and order it from them. Also, out of the six places I called, that employee was the only one familiar with the book (she's a big fan, too!). I'll only have to wait a week, which is when I'll be on vacation and have time to read it.

I hate faith.

No. Hating Faith, on the other hand, might well make you craxy.

Aimee: No, it was so that the Death Eaters, when they came thru the door, wouldn't see/kill Harry.

No reason Aimée can't be right too.

From Vernon Lee's (nee Violet Paget's) introduction to her Supernatural Tales, some brief, very evocative memories of her childhood in mid 19th century Italy:

Those geniune feelings of those youthful days of mine I can sometimes almost recapture, catch the swish of them vanishing in the distance of years. I mean the ineffable sense of the picaresqueness and wonderfulness of everything one came across: the market-place with the stage coach of the dentist, the puppet show against the Gothic palace, the white owl whom my friend John and I wanted to buy and to take home to the hotel, the ices we ate in the mediaevel piazza, the skewered caramelles and the gardenias and the musky, canary gaggias hawked about for buttonholes; the vines festooned over corn and hemp, the crumbling villas among them, the peasants talking like W. W. Story's Roba di Roma..."Kennst du das Land?'...a land where the Past haunted on...a land where on full mooned terraces and in company with countesses - in those Roderick Hudson days a countess was herself an exotic - you might listen to not the intermezzo of Cavalleria but mysterious eighteenth century songs, might almost hear the voice (not wicked, oh no, ever so virtuous) of Farinelli himself.

The John she wanted to buy an owl with, incidentally, was her childhood friend John Sargeant.

Jilli, did you know there was LitGothic site with a listing on Vernon Lee?

And are you familiar with the work of Simon Raven (What a goth name!)

There's a gorgeously gothy cover for his novel The Roses of Picardie

Fascinating overview of Vernon Lee by Brian Stableford. Wow, she had a really interesting life.