Harry took the Snitch with a bemused expression on his face, palm closing around the small, golden object as he pushed his glasses up with the other hand. "Professor. . ." Harry paused, trying to find a way to phrase it that meant Dumbledore would actually answer. He either explained things in his own time, or he left Harry to figure it out on his own - with this friends' help. But wasn't it getting too far gone for that? If he had reasons for handing them things, then shouldn't he just come right out and bloody tell him what they were? "Professor, what are these for? I mean, we're not exactly taking the time for a pick up game of Quidditch, lately, and Hermione's mostly reading to figure out Horcruxes, not. . . children's books?" Or at least that's what Harry guessed it was from the cover of the book Dumbledore gave her.
He didn't even know what the thing Ron held was, so he couldn't guess Dumbledore's reasons for that.
He opened his hand, passing the Snitch from one hand to the other. It fluttered a little, but didn't seem to really fight to get away the way a Snitch usually did when you first let it loose. Harry thought it must be. . . turned off, somehow. Or asleep? It felt familiar in his hand though. He wondered if any Snitch would, or if his hand remembered this one in particular. It was probably just a Snitch in general - he hadn't even caught this one in his hand, after all.