HARRY: He’s dangerous.
ALBUS: Scorpius? Dangerous? Have you met him? Dad, if you honestly think he’s the son of Voldemort . . .
HARRY: I don’t know what he is, I just know you need to stay away from him. Bane told me —
ALBUS: Who’s Bane?
HARRY: A centaur with profound Divination skills. He said there’s a black cloud around you and —
ALBUS: A black cloud?
HARRY: And I have very good reason to believe that Dark Magic is in a resurgence and I need to keep you safe from it. Safe from him. Safe from Scorpius.
ALBUS hesitates a moment, and then his face strengthens.
ALBUS: And if I won’t? Stay away from him?
HARRY looks at his son, thinking quickly.
HARRY: There’s a map. It used to be used for those wanting to get up to no good. Now we’re going to use it to keep an eye — a permanent eye — on you. Professor McGonagall will watch your every movement. Any time you are seen together — she’ll come flying — any time you attempt to leave Hogwarts — she’ll fly. I expect you to go to your lessons — none of which you will now share with Scorpius, and between times, you will stay in the Gryffindor common room!
ALBUS: You can’t make me go into Gryffindor! I’m Slytherin!
HARRY: Don’t play games, Albus, you know what House you are. If she finds you with Scorpius, I will fix you with a spell which will allow me eyes and ears into your every movement, your every conversation. In the meantime, investigations will begin in my department as to his true heritage.
ALBUS (starting to cry): But, Dad — you can’t — that’s just not . . .
HARRY: I thought for a long time I wasn’t a good enough dad for you because you didn’t like me. It’s only now I realize that I don’t need you to like me, I need you to obey me because I’m your dad and I do know better. I’m sorry, Albus. It has to be this way.
ACT TWO, SCENE NINE
HOGWARTS, STAIRCASE
ALBUS pursues HARRY across the stage.
ALBUS: What if I run? I’ll run.
HARRY: Albus, get back in bed.
ALBUS: I’ll run away again.
HARRY: No. You won’t.
ALBUS: I will — and this time I’ll make sure Ron can’t find us.
RON: Do I hear my name?
RON enters on a staircase, his side parting now super-aggressive, his robes just a little bit too short, his clothes now spectacularly staid.
ALBUS: Uncle Ron! Thank Dumbledore. If ever we needed one of your jokes it’s now . . .
RON frowns, confused.
RON: Jokes? I don’t know any jokes.
ALBUS: Of course you do. You run a joke shop.
RON (now supremely confused): A joke shop? Well now. Anyway I’m pleased I caught you. I was going to bring some sweets — for a, uh, sort of, a, get well soon, but, uh . . . Actually Padma — she thinks about things a lot more — deeply — than I do — and she thought it’d be nicer for you to get something useful for school. So we got you a — set of quills. Yes. Yes. Yes. Look at these bad boys. Top of the range.
ALBUS: Who’s Padma?
HARRY frowns at ALBUS.
HARRY: Your aunt.
ALBUS: I have an Aunt Padma?
RON (to HARRY): Taken a Confundus Charm to the head, has he? (To ALBUS.) My wife, Padma. You remember. Talks slightly too close to your face, smells a bit minty. (Leans in.) Padma, mother of Panju! (To HARRY.) That’s why I’m here, of course. Panju. He’s in trouble again. I wanted to just send a Howler but Padma insisted I come in person. I don’t know why. He just laughs at me.
ALBUS: But . . . you’re married to Hermione.
Beat. RON doesn’t understand this at all.
RON: Hermione. No. Nooooo. Merlin’s beard.
HARRY: Albus has also forgotten that he was sorted into Gryffindor. Conveniently.
RON: Yes, well, sorry, old chap, but you’re a Gryffindor.
ALBUS: But how did I get sorted into Gryffindor?
RON: You persuaded the Sorting Hat, don’t you remember? Panju bet you that you couldn’t get into Gryffindor if your life depended on it, so you chose Gryffindor to spite him. I can’t blame you, (dry) we’d all like to wipe the smile off his face sometimes, wouldn’t we? (Terrified.) Please don’t tell Padma I said that.
ALBUS: Who’s Panju?
RON and HARRY stare at ALBUS.
RON: Bloody hell, you’re really not yourself, are you? Anyway, better go, before I’m sent a Howler myself.
He stumbles on, not even an inch of the man he was.
ALBUS: But that doesn’t . . . make sense.
HARRY: Albus, whatever you’re feigning, it isn’t working. I will not change my mind.
ALBUS: Dad, you have two choices, either you take me to —
HARRY: No, you’re the one with the choice, Albus. You do this, or you get in deeper, much deeper trouble — do you understand?
SCORPIUS: Albus? You’re okay. That’s fantastic.
HARRY: He’s completely cured. And we’ve got to go.
ALBUS looks up at SCORPIUS and his heart breaks. He walks on.
SCORPIUS: Are you mad at me? What’s going on?
ALBUS stops and turns to SCORPIUS.
ALBUS: Did it work? Did any of it work?
SCORPIUS: No . . . But, Albus —
HARRY: Albus. Whatever gibberish you’re talking, you need to stop it, now. This is your final warning.
ALBUS looks torn between his dad and his friend.
ALBUS: I can’t, okay?
SCORPIUS: You can’t what?
ALBUS: Just — we’ll be better off without each other, okay?
SCORPIUS is left looking up after him. Heartbroken.
ACT TWO, SCENE TEN
HOGWARTS, HEADMISTRESS’S OFFICE
PROFESSOR McGONAGALL is full of unhappiness, HARRY is full of purpose, GINNY is not sure what she’s supposed to be.
PROFESSOR McGONAGALL: I’m not sure this is what the Marauder’s Map was intended for.
HARRY: If you see them together, then get to them as quickly as possible, and keep them separate.
PROFESSOR McGONAGALL: Harry, are you sure this is the right decision? Because far be it from me to doubt the wisdom of the centaurs, but Bane is an extremely angry centaur and . . . it’s not beyond him to twist the constellations for his own ends.
HARRY: I trust Bane. Albus is to stay away from Scorpius. For his sake, and others.
GINNY: I think what Harry means is . . .
HARRY (with finality): The professor knows what I mean.
GINNY looks at HARRY, surprised that he’d talk to her that way.
PROFESSOR McGONAGALL: Albus has been checked by the greatest witches and wizards in the country and no one can find or sense a hex or a curse.
HARRY: And Dumbledore — Dumbledore said —
PROFESSOR McGONAGALL: What?
HARRY: His portrait. We spoke. He said some things which made sense —
PROFESSOR McGONAGALL: Dumbledore is dead, Harry. And I’ve told you before, portraits don’t represent even half of their subjects.
HARRY: He said love had blinded me.
PROFESSOR McGONAGALL: A head teacher’s portrait is a memoir. It is supposed to be a support mechanism for the decisions I have to make. But I was advised as I took this job to not mistake the painting for the person. And you would be well-advised to do the same.