ACT ONE, SCENE ELEVEN
ROOF OF THE HOGWARTS EXPRESS
The wind whistles from all angles and it’s a fierce wind at that.
SCORPIUS: Okay, now we’re on the roof of a train, it’s fast, it’s scary, this has been great, I feel like I’ve learnt a lot about me, something about you, but —
ALBUS: As I calculate it we should be approaching the viaduct soon and then it’ll be a short hike to St. Oswald’s Home for Old Witches and Wizards . . .
SCORPIUS: The what? The where? Look, I am as excited as you are to be a rebel for the first time in my life — yay — train roof — fun — but now — oh.
SCORPIUS sees something he doesn’t want to see.
ALBUS: The water will be an extremely useful backup if our Cushioning Charm doesn’t work.
SCORPIUS: Albus. The Trolley Witch.
ALBUS: You want a snack for the journey?
SCORPIUS: No. Albus. The Trolley Witch is coming towards us.
ALBUS: No, she can’t be, we’re on top of the train . . .
SCORPIUS points ALBUS in the right direction, and now he can see the TROLLEY WITCH, who approaches nonchalantly, pushing her trolley.
TROLLEY WITCH: Anything from the trolley, dears? Pumpkin Pasty? Chocolate Frog? Cauldron Cake?
ALBUS: Oh.
TROLLEY WITCH: People don’t know much about me. They buy my Cauldron Cakes — but they never really notice me. I don’t remember the last time someone asked my name.
ALBUS: What is your name?
TROLLEY WITCH: I’ve forgotten. All I can tell you is that when the Hogwarts Express first came to be — Ottaline Gambol herself offered me this job . . .
SCORPIUS: That’s — one hundred and ninety years. You’ve been doing this job for one hundred and ninety years?
TROLLEY WITCH: These hands have made over six million Pumpkin Pasties. I’ve got quite good at them. But what people haven’t noticed about my Pumpkin Pasties is how easily they transform into something else . . .
She picks up a Pumpkin Pasty. She throws it like a grenade. It explodes.
And you won’t believe what I can do with my Chocolate Frogs. Never — never — have I let anyone off this train before they reached their destination. Some have tried — Sirius Black and his cronies, Fred and George Weasley. ALL HAVE FAILED. BECAUSE THIS TRAIN — IT DOESN’T LIKE PEOPLE GETTING OFF IT . . .
The TROLLEY WITCH’s hands transfigure into very sharp spikes. She smiles.
So please retake your seats for the remainder of the journey.
ALBUS: You were right, Scorpius. This train is magical.
SCORPIUS: At this precise moment in time, I take no pleasure in being right.
ALBUS: But I was also right — about the viaduct — that’s water down there, time to try the Cushioning Charm.
SCORPIUS: Albus, this is a bad idea.
ALBUS: Is it? (He has a moment’s hesitation, then realizes the time for hesitation has passed.) Too late now. Three. Two. One. Molliare!
He incants as he jumps.
SCORPIUS: Albus . . . Albus . . .
He looks down desperately after his friend. He looks at the approaching TROLLEY WITCH. Her hair wild. Her spikes particularly spiky.
Well, as fun as you clearly look, I have to go after my friend.
He pinches his nose, he jumps after ALBUS, incanting as he goes.
Molliare!
ACT ONE, SCENE TWELVE
MINISTRY OF MAGIC, GRAND MEETING ROOM
The stage is flooded with wizards and witches. They rattle and chatter like all true wizards and witches can. Amongst them, GINNY, DRACO, and RON. Above them, on a stage, HERMIONE and HARRY.
HERMIONE: Order. Order. Do I have to conjure silence? (She pulls silence from the crowd using her wand.) Good. Welcome to this Extraordinary General Meeting. I’m so pleased so many of you could make it. The wizarding world has been living in peace now for many years. It’s twenty-two years since we defeated Voldemort at the Battle of Hogwarts, and I’m delighted to say there is a new generation being brought up having known only the slightest conflict. Until now. Harry.
HARRY: Voldemort’s allies have been showing movement for a few months now. We’ve followed trolls making their way across Europe, giants starting to cross the seas, and the werewolves — well, I’m distressed to say we lost sight of them some weeks ago. We don’t know where they’re going or who’s encouraged them to move — but we are aware they are moving — and we are concerned what it might mean. So we’re asking — if anyone has seen anything? Felt anything? If you could raise a wand, we will hear everyone speak. Professor McGonagall — thank you.
PROFESSOR McGONAGALL: It did look like the potions stores had been interfered with when we returned from summer break, but not a huge amount of ingredients were missing, some Boomslang skin and lacewing flies, nothing on the Restricted Register. We put it down to Peeves.
HERMIONE: Thank you, Professor. We shall investigate. (She looks around the room.) Nobody else? Fine, and — gravest of all — and this hasn’t been the case since Voldemort — Harry’s scar is hurting again.
DRACO: Voldemort is dead, Voldemort is gone.
HERMIONE: Yes, Draco, Voldemort is dead, but these things all lead us to think that there is a possibility that Voldemort — or some trace of Voldemort — might be back.
This gets a reaction.
HARRY: Now this is difficult but we have to ask it to rule it out. Those of you with a Dark Mark . . . have you felt anything? Even a twinge?
DRACO: Back to being prejudiced against those with a Dark Mark, are we, Potter?
HERMIONE: No, Draco. Harry is simply trying to —
DRACO: You know what this is about? Harry just wants his face back in the newspapers again. We’ve had rumors of Voldemort coming back from the Daily Prophet once a year every year —
HARRY: None of those rumors came from me!
DRACO: Really? Doesn’t your wife edit the Daily Prophet?
GINNY steps towards him, outraged.
GINNY: The sports pages!
HERMIONE: Draco. Harry brought this matter to the attention of the Ministry. And I — as Minister for Magic —
DRACO: A vote you only won because you are his friend.
RON is held back by GINNY as he charges at DRACO.
RON: Do you want a smack in the mouth?
DRACO: Face it — his celebrity impacts upon you all. And how better to get everyone whispering the Potter name again than with (he does an impression of HARRY) “my scar is hurting, my scar is hurting.” And do you know what this all means — that the gossipmongers once again have an opportunity to defame my son with these ridiculous rumors about his parentage.
HARRY: Draco, no one is saying this has anything to do with Scorpius . . .
DRACO: Well, I, for one, think this meeting a sham. And I’m leaving.
He walks out. Others start to disperse after him.
HERMIONE: No. That’s not the way . . . Come back. We need a strategy.
ACT ONE, SCENE THIRTEEN
ST. OSWALD’S HOME FOR OLD WITCHES AND WIZARDS
This is chaos. This is magic. This is St. Oswald’s Home for Old Witches and Wizards and it is as wonderful as you might hope.