Harry Potter and the Cursed Child: Rewrite

ACT TWO, SCENE EIGHT

HOGWARTS, HOSPITAL WING 

ALBUS is asleep in a hospital bed. HARRY sits troubled beside him. Above them is a picture of a concerned kindly man. HARRY rubs his eyes — stands — and walks around the room. He stretches out his back. 

And then he meets eyes with the painting. Which looks startled to be spotted. And HARRY looks startled back. 

HARRY: Professor Dumbledore. 

DUMBLEDORE: Good evening, Harry. 

HARRY: I've missed you. Whenever I've dropped in on the headmistress lately, your frame's been empty. 

DUMBLEDORE: Ah, well, I do like to pop into my other portraits now and then. (He looks at ALBUS.) Will he be all right? 

HARRY: He's been out twenty-four hours, mostly in order so Madam Pomfrey could reset his arm. She said it was the strangest thing, it's like it was broken twenty years ago and allowed to set in the "most contrary" of directions. She says he'll be fine. 

DUMBLEDORE: A difficult thing, I imagine, to watch your child in pain. 

HARRY looks up at DUMBLEDORE, and then down at ALBUS. 

HARRY: I've never asked how you felt about me naming him after you, have I? 

DUMBLEDORE: Candidly, Harry, it seemed a great weight to place upon the poor boy. 

HARRY: I need your help. I need your advice. Bane says Albus is in danger. How do I protect my son, Dumbledore? 

DUMBLEDORE: You ask me, of all people, how to protect a boy in terrible danger? We cannot protect the young from harm. Pain must and will come. 

HARRY: So I'm supposed to stand and watch? 

DUMBLEDORE: No. You're supposed to teach him how to meet life. 

HARRY: How? He won't listen. 

DUMBLEDORE: Perhaps he's waiting for you to see him clearly. 

HARRY frowns as he tries to digest this. 

(With sensitivity.) It is a portrait's curse and blessing to . . . hear things. At the school, at the Ministry, I hear people talking . . . 

HARRY: And what is the gossip about me and my son? 

DUMBLEDORE: Not gossip. Concern. That you two are struggling. That he's difficult. That he is angry with you. I have formed the impression that — perhaps — you are blinded by your love for him. 

HARRY: Blinded? 

DUMBLEDORE: You must see him as he is, Harry. You must look for what's wounding him. 

HARRY: Haven't I seen him as he is? What's wounding my son? (He thinks.) Or is it who's wounding my son? 

ALBUS (mumbles in his sleep): Dad . . . 

HARRY: This black cloud, it's someone, isn't it? Not something? 

DUMBLEDORE: Ah really, what does my opinion matter anymore? I am paint and memory, Harry, paint and memory. And I never had a son.

HARRY: But I need your advice. 

ALBUS: Dad? 

HARRY looks at ALBUS and then back at DUMBLEDORE. But DUMBLEDORE is gone. 

HARRY: No, where have you gone now? 

ALBUS: We're in — the hospital wing? 

HARRY turns his attention back to ALBUS. 

HARRY (discombobulated): Yes. And you're — you will be fine. For recuperation, Madam Pomfrey wasn't sure what to prescribe and said you should probably eat lots of — chocolate. Actually, do you mind if I have some — ? I've got something to tell you and I don't think you'll like it. 

ALBUS looks at his dad, what does he have to say? He decides not to engage. 

ALBUS: Okay. I think. 

HARRY takes some chocolate, he eats a big chunk. ALBUS looks at his dad, confused. 

Better? 

HARRY: Much. 

He holds out the chocolate to his son. ALBUS takes a piece. Father and son munch together. 

The arm, how does it feel? 

ALBUS flexes his arm. 

ALBUS: It feels great. 

HARRY (soft): Where did you go, Albus? I can't tell you what it did to us. Your mum was worried sick . . . 

ALBUS looks up, he is a great liar. 

ALBUS: We decided we didn't want to come to school. We thought we could start again — in the Muggle world. We discovered we were wrong. We were coming back to Hogwarts when you found us. 

HARRY: In Durmstrang robes? 

ALBUS: The robes were . . . The whole thing — Olivia and I — we didn't think. 

HARRY: And why — why did you run? Because of me? Because of what I said? 

ALBUS: I don't know. Hogwarts isn't actually that pleasant a place when you don't fit in. 

HARRY: And did Olivia — encourage you to — go? 

ALBUS: Olivia? No. 

HARRY looks at ALBUS, trying to see almost an aura around him, thinking deeply. 

HARRY: I need you to stay away from Olivia Malfoy. 

ALBUS: What? Olivia? 

HARRY: I don't know how you became friends in the first place, but you did, and now — I need you to — 

ALBUS: My best friend? My only friend? 

HARRY: She's dangerous. 

ALBUS: Olivia? Dangerous? Have you met her? Dad, if you honestly think she's the daughter of Voldemort . . . 

HARRY: I don't know what she is, I just know you need to stay away from her. 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 her. Safe from Olivia.

ALBUS hesitates a moment, and then his face strengthens.

ALBUS: And if I won't? Stay away from her?

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 Olivia, 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 Olivia, 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 her 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.