Harry Potter and the Cursed Child

SCORPIUS: Oh, of course, that’s it! Professor Longbottom was supposed to kill Nagini, Voldemort’s snake. Nagini had to die before Voldemort could die. That’s it! You’ve solved it! We destroyed Cedric, he killed Neville, Voldemort won the battle. Can you see? Can you see it?

SNAPE: I can see this is a Malfoy game. Get out before I alert your father and plunge you into deep trouble.

SCORPIUS thinks and then plays his final, desperate card.

SCORPIUS: You loved his mother. I don’t remember everything. I know you loved his mother. Harry’s mother. Lily. I know you spent years undercover. I know without you the war could never have been won. How would I know this if I hadn’t seen the other world . . . ?

SNAPE says nothing, overwhelmed.

Only Dumbledore knew, am I right? And when you lost him you must have felt so alone. I know you’re a good man. Harry Potter told his son you’re a great man.

SNAPE looks at SCORPIUS — unsure what’s going on. Is this a trick? He is quite seriously at a loss.

SNAPE: Harry Potter is dead.

SCORPIUS: Not in my world. He said you were the bravest man he’d ever met. He knew, you see — he knew your secret — what you did for Dumbledore. And he admired you for it — greatly. And that’s why he named his son — my best friend — after you both. Albus Severus Potter.

SNAPE is stopped. He is deeply moved.

Please — for Lily, for the world, help me.

SNAPE thinks and then walks up to SCORPIUS, taking out his wand as he does. SCORPIUS steps back, scared. SNAPE fires his wand at the door.

SNAPE: Colloportus!

An invisible lock slams into place. SNAPE opens a hatch at the back of the classroom.

Well, come on, then . . .

SCORPIUS: Just a question, but where — exactly — are we going?

SNAPE: We’ve had to move many times. Everywhere we’ve settled they destroyed. This will take us to a room hidden in the roots of the Whomping Willow.

SCORPIUS: Okay, who’s we?

SNAPE: Oh. You’ll see.

ACT THREE, SCENE SIX

CAMPAIGN ROOM

SCORPIUS is pinned to the table by a magnificent-looking HERMIONE. Her clothes faded, her eyes blazing, she is full warrior now and it rather suits her.

HERMIONE: You make one more move and your brain will be a frog and your arms will be rubber.

SNAPE: Safe. He’s safe. (Beat.) You know you never could listen. You were a terrible bore of a student and you’re a terrible bore of — whatever you are.

HERMIONE: I was an excellent student.

SNAPE: You were moderate to average. He’s on our side!

SCORPIUS: I am, Hermione.

HERMIONE looks at SCORPIUS, still very distrustful.

HERMIONE: Most people know me as Granger. And I don’t believe a word you say, Malfoy —

SCORPIUS: It’s all my fault. My fault. And Albus’s.

HERMIONE: Albus? Albus Dumbledore? What’s Albus Dumbledore got to do with this?

SNAPE: He doesn’t mean Dumbledore. You may need to sit down.

RON runs in. His hair spiked. His clothes scruffy. He is slightly less good at the rebel look than HERMIONE is.

RON: Snape, a royal visit, and — (he sees SCORPIUS and is immediately alarmed) what’s he doing here?

He fumbles out his wand.

I’m armed and — entirely dangerous and seriously advise you —

He realizes his wand is the wrong way around and turns it right.

To be very careful —

SNAPE: He’s safe, Ron.

RON looks at HERMIONE, who nods.

RON: Thank Dumbledore for that.

ACT THREE, SCENE SEVEN

CAMPAIGN ROOM

HERMIONE is sitting studying the Time-Turner as RON tries to digest it all.

RON: So you’re telling me that the whole of history rests on . . . Neville Longbottom? This is pretty wild.

HERMIONE: It’s true, Ron.

RON: Right. And you’re sure because . . .

HERMIONE: What he knows about Snape — about all of us — there’s no way he could . . .

RON: Maybe he’s a really good guesser?

SCORPIUS: I’m not. Can you help?

RON: We’re the only ones that can. Dumbledore’s Army has shrunk considerably since its peak. In fact, we’re pretty much all that’s left, but we’ve kept fighting on. Hiding in plain sight. Doing our best to tickle their nose hairs. Granger here is a wanted woman. I’m a wanted man.

SNAPE (dryly): Less wanted.