ACT FOUR, SCENE TWO
SCOTTISH HIGHLANDS, AVIEMORE TRAIN STATION, 1981
ALBUS and SCORPIUS are looking at a STATIONMASTER, apprehensively.
ALBUS: One of us should talk to him, don’t you think?
SCORPIUS: Hello, Mr. Stationmaster. Mr. Muggle. Question: Did you see a flying witch passing here? And by the way, what year is it? We just ran away from Hogwarts because we were frightened of upsetting things, but this is okay?
ALBUS: You know what annoys me most of all? Dad will think we did it deliberately.
SCORPIUS: Albus. Really? I mean, really really? We’re — trapped — lost — in time — probably permanently — and you’re worrying what your dad might think about it? I will never understand the two of you.
ALBUS: There’s a lot to understand. Dad’s pretty complicated.
SCORPIUS: And you’re not? Not to question your taste in women, but you fancied . . . well . . .
They both know who he’s talking about.
ALBUS: I did, didn’t I? I mean, what she did to Craig . . .
SCORPIUS: Let’s not think about that. Let’s focus on the fact that we have no wands, no brooms, no means of returning to our time. All we have is our wits and — no, that’s all, our wits — and we have to stop her.
STATIONMASTER (in very strong Scots): Ye ken th’ auld reekie train is running late, boys?
SCORPIUS: Sorry?
STATIONMASTER: If you’re waiting oan th’ auld reekie train, you’ll need tae ken it’s running late. Train wirks oan th’ line. It’s a’ oan th’ amended time buird.
He looks at them, they look back bewildered. He frowns and hands them an amended timetable. He points to the right bit of it.
Late.
ALBUS takes it and examines it. His face changes as he takes in enormous information. SCORPIUS just stares at the STATIONMASTER.
ALBUS: I know where she is.
SCORPIUS: You understood that?
ALBUS: Look at the date. On the timetable.
SCORPIUS leans in and reads.
SCORPIUS: The 30th October, 1981. Day before Hallows’ Eve, thirty-nine years ago. But — why is she? Oh.
SCORPIUS’s face falls as he realizes.
ALBUS: The death of my grandparents. The attack on my dad as a baby . . . The moment when Voldemort’s curse rebounded on himself. She’s not trying to bring about her prophecy — she’s trying to prevent the big one.
SCORPIUS: The big one?
ALBUS: “The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches . . .”
SCORPIUS joins in.
SCORPIUS and ALBUS: “. . . born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies . . .”
SCORPIUS’s face falls with every word.
SCORPIUS: It’s my fault. I told her that prophecies can be broken — I told her the whole logic of prophecies is questionable —
ALBUS: In twenty-four hours’ time Voldemort curses himself trying to kill the baby Harry Potter. Delphi is trying to prevent that curse. She’s going to kill Harry herself. We need to get to Godric’s Hollow. Now.
ACT FOUR, SCENE THREE
GODRIC’S HOLLOW, 1981
ALBUS and SCORPIUS walk through the center of Godric’s Hollow and it’s a bustling, beautiful little village.
SCORPIUS: Well, there’s no visible signs of attack that I can see . . .
ALBUS: This is Godric’s Hollow?
SCORPIUS: Your dad’s never taken you?
ALBUS: No, he tried to a few times but I refused.
SCORPIUS: Well, there’s no time for a tour — we have a murderous witch to save the world from — but regard: The Church, St. Jerome’s . . .
As he indicates a church becomes visible.
ALBUS: It’s magnificent.
SCORPIUS: And St. Jerome’s graveyard is supposedly magnificently haunted, (he points in another direction) and that’s where the statue of Harry and his parents will be —
ALBUS: My dad has a statue?
SCORPIUS: Oh. Not yet. But he will. Hopefully. And this — this house is where Bathilda Bagshot lived, lives . . .
ALBUS: The Bathilda Bagshot? A History of Magic Bathilda Bagshot?
SCORPIUS: The very same. Oh my, that’s her. Wow. Squeak. My geekness is a-quivering.
ALBUS: Scorpius!
SCORPIUS: And here it is —
ALBUS: The home of James, Lily, and Harry Potter . . .
A young, attractive couple leave a house with a baby in a pushchair. ALBUS moves towards them, SCORPIUS pulls him back.
SCORPIUS: They can’t see you, Albus, it might damage time, and we’re not doing that — not this time.
ALBUS: But this means, she hasn’t . . . We’ve made it . . . She hasn’t . . .
SCORPIUS: So what do we do now? Get ready to fight her? Because she’s pretty . . . Fierce.
ALBUS: Yes. We haven’t really thought this one through, have we? What do we do now? How do we protect my dad?
ACT FOUR, SCENE FOUR
MINISTRY OF MAGIC, HARRY’S OFFICE
HARRY is hurriedly going through paperwork.
DUMBLEDORE: Good evening, Harry.
A beat. HARRY looks up at the portrait of DUMBLEDORE, his face passive.
HARRY: Professor Dumbledore, in my office, I’m honored. I must be where the action is tonight?
DUMBLEDORE: What are you doing?
HARRY: Going through papers, seeing if I’ve missed anything I shouldn’t have. Marshaling forces to fight in the limited way we can fight. Knowing that the battle is being raged far away from us. What else can I do?
Pause. DUMBLEDORE says nothing.
Where have you been, Dumbledore?
DUMBLEDORE: I’m here now.
HARRY: Here just as the battle is lost. Or are you denying that Voldemort is going to return.
DUMBLEDORE: It is — possible.
HARRY: Go. Leave. I don’t want you here, I don’t need you. You were absent every time it really counted. I fought him three times without you. I’ll face him again, if needs be — alone.
DUMBLEDORE: Harry, don’t you think I wanted to fight him on your behalf? I would have spared you if I could —
HARRY: “Love blinds us”? Do you even know what that means? Do you even know how bad that advice was? My son is — my son is fighting battles for us just as I had to for you. And I have proved as bad a father to him as you were to me. Leaving him in places he felt unloved — growing in him resentments he’ll take years to understand —
DUMBLEDORE: If you’re referring to Privet Drive, then —
HARRY: Years — years I spent there alone, without knowing what I was, or why I was there, without knowing that anybody cared!
DUMBLEDORE: I — did not wish to become attached to you —
HARRY: Protecting yourself, even then!
DUMBLEDORE: No. I was protecting you. I did not want to hurt you . . .
DUMBLEDORE attempts to reach out of the portrait — but he can’t. He begins to cry but tries to hide it.
But I had to meet you in the end . . . eleven years old, and you were so brave. So good. You walked uncomplainingly along the path that had been laid at your feet. Of course I loved you . . . and I knew that it would happen all over again . . . that where I loved, I would cause irreparable damage. I am no fit person to love . . . I have never loved without causing harm.