Joanne Rowling - Harry Potter and the Cursed Child

HERMIONE: Minerva. (There is an intake of breath.) Professor McGonagall —

PROFESSOR McGONAGALL: Your children didn’t exist!

HERMIONE has no reply to that.

This happened in my school, under my watch. After all that Dumbledore did, I couldn’t live with myself . . .

HERMIONE: I know.

PROFESSOR McGONAGALL (composes herself for a moment) : Your intentions to save Cedric were honorable, if misguided. And it does sound as if you were brave, Scorpius, and you, Albus, but the lesson even your father sometimes failed to heed is that bravery doesn’t forgive stupidity. Always think. Think what’s possible. A world controlled by Voldemort is —

SCORPIUS: A horrific world.

PROFESSOR McGONAGALL: You are so young. (She looks at HARRY, DRACO, GINNY, and HERMIONE.) You’re all so young. You have no idea how dark the wizarding wars got. You were — reckless — with the world some people — some very dear friends of mine and yours — sacrificed a huge amount to create and sustain.

ALBUS: Yes, Professor.

SCORPIUS: Yes, Professor.

PROFESSOR McGONAGALL: Go on. Get out. The lot of you. And find me that Time-Turner.

ALBUS is sitting in his room. HARRY enters and looks at his son — full of anger, but cautious to not let it spill.

HARRY: Thanks for letting me come up.

ALBUS turns, he nods at his dad. He’s being cautious too.

No luck, as yet, with the Time-Turner searching. They’re negotiating with the Merpeople to dredge the lake.

He sits down uncomfortably.

This is a nice room.

ALBUS: Green is a soothing color, isn’t it? I mean Gryffindor rooms are all well and good but the trouble with red is — it is said to send you a little mad — not that I’m casting aspersions . . .

HARRY: Can you explain why you tried to do this?

ALBUS: I thought I could — change things. I thought Cedric — it’s unfair.

HARRY: Of course it’s unfair, Albus, don’t you think I know that? I was there. I saw him die. But to do this . . . to risk all this . . .

ALBUS: I know.

HARRY (failing to contain his anger) : If you were trying to do as I did, you went the wrong way about it. I didn’t volunteer for adventure, I was forced into it. You did something really reckless — something really stupid and dangerous — something that could have destroyed everything —

ALBUS: I know. Okay. I know.

Pause. ALBUS wipes away a tear, HARRY notices it and takes a breath. He pulls himself back from the brink.

HARRY: Well, I was wrong too — to think Scorpius was Voldemort’s son. He wasn’t a black cloud.

ALBUS: No.

HARRY: And I’ve locked away the map. You won’t see it again. Your mum left your room exactly as it was when you ran away — you know that? Wouldn’t let me go in — wouldn’t let anyone go in — you really scared her . . . And me.

ALBUS: Really scared you?

HARRY: Yes.

ALBUS: I thought Harry Potter wasn’t afraid of anything?

HARRY: Is that how I make you feel?

ALBUS looks at his dad, trying to figure him out.

ALBUS: I don’t think Scorpius said, but when we returned after failing to fix the first task, I was suddenly in Gryffindor House. Nothing was better between us then either — so — the fact that I’m in Slytherin — that’s not the reason for our problems. It’s not just about that.

HARRY: No. I know. It’s not just about that.

HARRY looks at ALBUS.

Are you okay, Albus?

ALBUS: No.

HARRY: No. Nor me.

YOUNG HARRY stands looking at a gravestone covered in bunches of flowers. He has a small bunch of flowers in his hand.

AUNT PETUNIA: Go on then, lay down your grotty little flowers and then let’s go. I already hate this poxy little village, I don’t know why I even had the thought — Godric’s Hollow, Godless Hollow, more like, the place is clearly a hive of filth — go on, chop-chop.

He approaches the grave. He stands a moment more.

Now , Harry . . . I don’t have time for this. Duddy has his Cubs tonight and you know he hates to be late.

YOUNG HARRY: Aunt Petunia. We’re their last living relatives, right?

AUNT PETUNIA: Yes. You and I. Yes.

YOUNG HARRY: And — they weren’t popular? You said they didn’t have any friends?

AUNT PETUNIA: Lily tried — bless her — she tried — it wasn’t her fault, but she repelled people — by her very nature. It was her intensity, it was her manner, it was her — way. And your father — obnoxious man — extraordinarily obnoxious. No friends. Neither of them.

YOUNG HARRY: So my question is — why are there so many flowers? Why are there flowers all over their grave?

AUNT PETUNIA looks around, she sees all the flowers as if for the first time and it moves her hugely. She approaches and then sits by her sister’s grave, trying hard to fight the emotions as they come to her but succumbing all the same.

AUNT PETUNIA: Oh. Yes. Well, I suppose there are a — few. Must have blown over from the other graves. Or someone’s playing a trick. Yes, I think that’s most likely, some young rapscallion with too much time on his hands has gone around collecting flowers from all the other graves and deposited them here —

YOUNG HARRY: But they’re all marked with their names . . . “Lily and James, what you did, we will never forget,” “Lily and James, your sacrifice . . .”

VOLDEMORT: I smell guilt, there is a stench of guilt upon the air.

AUNT PETUNIA (to YOUNG HARRY) : Get away. Get away from there.

She pulls him back. VOLDEMORT’s hand rises into the air above the Potters’ gravestone, the rest of him rises after. We don’t see his face but his body provides a jagged, horrific shape.

I knew it. This place is dangerous. The sooner we leave Godric’s Hollow the better.

YOUNG HARRY is pulled from the stage, but turns to face VOLDEMORT.

VOLDEMORT: Do you still see with my eyes, Harry Potter?

YOUNG HARRY exits, disturbed, as ALBUS bursts from within VOLDEMORT’s cloak. He reaches out a desperate hand towards his dad.

ALBUS: Dad . . . Dad . . .

There are some words spoken in Parseltongue.

He’s coming. He’s coming. He’s coming.

And then a scream.

And then, right from the back of the room, whispering around everyone.

Words said with an unmistakable voice. The voice of VOLDEMORT . . .

Haaarry Pottttter.

HARRY is in a horrible state. Petrified by what he thinks his dreams are telling him.

GINNY: Harry? Harry? What is it? You were screaming . . .

HARRY: They haven’t stopped. The dreams.

GINNY: They weren’t likely to stop immediately. It’s been a stressful time and —

HARRY: But I was never in Godric’s Hollow with Petunia. This doesn’t —

GINNY: Harry, you’re really scaring me.

HARRY: He’s still here, Ginny.

GINNY: Who’s still here?