Each of the three experienced it uniquely and separately. When James landed in the middle of the first memory, neither Ralph nor Rose was anywhere in sight. As Scorpius had said, the memories were slightly faded; James felt more as if he was dreaming them than living them. As the world of the memory resolved around him, he found himself standing in the Headmaster's office, but not as he'd ever known it. It rippled and swam, like a scene witnessed underwater, but then it began to solidify. Fawkes the phoenix preened on his perch, proving to James that he was seeing the room as it had looked during Dumbledore's term as Headmaster.
"We must be prepared for the eventuality, Severus," Dumbledore was saying, not looking at Snape, who stood by the window, looking out at a black sky. "It cannot be assumed that Voldemort will be too proud to resort to such a tactic. If he comes to fear that his plans—and therefore his life—are in jeopardy, we must assume he will prepare a successor of some kind."
"The Dark Lord is not given to preparations for failure, Headmaster," Snape said. "His vanity will not admit the possibility of defeat. The sheer number of Horcruxes he has prepared are evidence of his assurance."
"I disagree," Dumbledore said, steepling his fingers as he sat at his desk. James saw that one of the old headmaster's hands was rather horribly blackened and sickly. "One Horcrux would be enough for a confident villain. Voldemort's substantial collection of them proves quite the reverse. He lives in terror of death, believing nothing but the most extreme measures will ward it off. This is not the behavior of a man confident in his immortality. If, in time, he fears that even this collection will fail him, he will turn to even more desperate measures. You will know this when the time comes, and if it does, your duty will be clear."
Snape turned away from the window and approached the desk. "It pains me to admit it, but this task is very nearly beyond me, Headmaster. You are far better equipped to manage it than am I."
Dumbledore nodded slowly and smiled. "I will not argue that, Severus, but we both know it is unlikely that I should still be alive when the time comes. The task falls to you by default. Nevertheless, I am quite confident in your ability to do what is necessary. Despite what you believe of yourself, you are rather uniquely qualified for this type of work…"
As Dumbledore said this, the memory slowly dissolved. The room faded into obscurity and both Snape and Dumbledore vanished. An indeterminate amount of time seemed to pass, and then James found another memory solidifying around him. He was in a drawing room in a grand house, although it was apparent that the house was quite old and its best days were behind it. A large crystal chandelier lay shattered on the floor like a corpse. Bits of broken crystal lay everywhere, sparkling in the firelight.
"Potter," a high, silky voice said. James turned to see a horrible cloaked figure standing in front of the hearth. It was like a man, but only just. Beneath the cowl, the face was so pale as to be nearly translucent. There was no nose, save for a pair of grotesquely flaring slits, and the red eyes glowed with thin vertical pupils. James' knees went weak with fear as the figure seemed to stare coldly at him, but then it turned its gaze away, looking askance at a woman huddled at the end of a nearby sofa.
"I thought I was quite clear," the high, cold voice went on, and James now recognized the figure for who it was. This was Voldemort himself, in the flesh. "I was not to be disturbed for anything other than Harry Potter. Bellatrix here assures me I was, indeed, rather specific about that requirement. And yet she herself is the one responsible for interrupting my work without any Harry Potter to present me upon my return."
Bellatrix sobbed and rolled off the sofa, throwing herself onto the floor at Voldemort's feet. "He was here, my Lord! I tell you: he was my prisoner when I summoned you; otherwise, I would never have dared! Lucius and Narcissa can attest to the fact! But we were betrayed at the last minute—" Bellatrix flung an arm toward a man James hadn't noticed yet. The man stood in the shadows, his face deathly pale and blank. His hair was long and white. "Tell him, Lucius!" Bellatrix implored. "Tell the Dark Lord that we had Potter in our grasp!" When the man didn't respond, Bellatrix's face contorted into desperate rage. "Then perhaps you should tell him how you were bested by the boy Potter! Tell him, Lucius, how you were Stunned unconscious mere moments after they burst upon us! Tell him!"
"Severus," Voldemort said, ignoring the woman's raving, sobbing protests, "this unfortunate occasion has pressed me to consider an option that I had hoped would be unnecessary."
James turned and saw Snape standing in front of the closed door of the drawing room. He knew neither Snape nor Voldemort could see him; nevertheless, he felt very uncomfortable standing between them as they spoke. He moved into a nearby corner opposite the staring figure of Lucius Malfoy. Snape merely stood and waited, looking unflinchingly at the awful, snakelike face.
"I have summoned you from your post for the same reason I have dismissed Narcissa, Greyback, and Lucius' son. No one else need know of the duty I am placing upon you. Lucius himself will have his own role if he chooses to accept it; I have every expectation that he will be eager to prove his worth after recent events. But you, Severus, will perform a very important duty in this arrangement."
"Whatever you wish, my Lord," Snape said evenly.
Voldemort went on, stepping away from the hearth. "As you know, Severus, I have prepared Horcruxes, creating an unbroken chain of immortality for my ascendance…"
As Voldemort slowly crossed the room, the broken chandelier rose silently from the floor, allowing him to pass beneath it. The shattered bits of crystal rose with it, turning and glinting in the air like water droplets.
"I am quite confident that these Horcruxes will serve me well; however, in the extremely unlikely event that any of them should be destroyed—"
"Never, my Lord!" Bellatrix cried, still groveling on the floor. "It is impossible!"
"—I have prepared one final Horcrux," Voldemort went on, completely ignoring Bellatrix's outburst. "It is rather unique. In fact, I am quite confident that such a thing has never before been created."
Voldemort reached the center of the room and stopped. As the broken chandelier hovered over him, he reached slowly into his cloak and produced a long, narrow dagger. It was singularly ugly, made of silver with a jewel-encrusted handle. The blade was tarnished to a dark glint, as if it had been rubbed with soot.
"This dagger," Voldemort went on, turning it slowly in the firelight, "is rather special to me. It has travelled with me long and served me on many occasions. You may be interested to know that it once belonged to my father. I took it as an inheritance from his dead hand. Thus, it is quite fitting that this dagger, Severus, is the final and perhaps most important of my Horcruxes. I am entrusting you to safeguard it within the protection of Hogwarts until the time comes for its use."
"I will guard it with my life, my Lord," Snape said, inclining his head. "I am honored to be entrusted with a task that will only add to your long life."