Harry Potter and the Cursed Child (Harry Potter, #8)(2)

GINNY: They’re going to be okay, right?

HERMIONE: Hogwarts is a big place.

RON: Big. Wonderful. Full of food. I’d give anything to be going back.

HARRY: Strange, Al being worried he’ll be sorted into Slytherin.

HERMIONE: That’s nothing, Rose is worried whether she’ll break the Quidditch scoring record in her first or second year. And how early she can take her O.W.L.s.

RON: I have no idea where she gets her ambition from.

GINNY: And how would you feel, Harry, if Al — if he is?

RON: You know, Gin, we always thought there was a chance you could be sorted into Slytherin.

GINNY: What?

RON: Honestly, Fred and George ran a book.

HERMIONE: Can we go? People are looking, you know.

GINNY: People always look when you three are together. And apart. People always look at you.

The four exit. GINNY stops HARRY.

Harry . . . He’ll be all right, won’t he?

HARRY: Of course he will.





ACT ONE, SCENE THREE





THE HOGWARTS EXPRESS


ALBUS and ROSE walk along the carriage of the train.

The TROLLEY WITCH approaches, pushing her trolley.

TROLLEY WITCH: Anything from the trolley, dears? Pumpkin Pasty? Chocolate Frog? Cauldron Cake?

ROSE (spotting ALBUS’s loving look at the Chocolate Frogs): Al. We need to concentrate.

ALBUS: Concentrate on what?

ROSE: On who we choose to be friends with. My mum and dad met your dad on their first Hogwarts Express, you know . . .

ALBUS: So we need to choose now who to be friends with for life? That’s quite scary.

ROSE: On the contrary, it’s exciting. I’m a Granger-Weasley, you’re a Potter — everyone will want to be friends with us, we’ve got the pick of anyone we want.

ALBUS: So how do we decide — which compartment to go in . . .

ROSE: We rate them all and then we make a decision.

ALBUS opens a door — to look in on a lonely blond kid — SCORPIUS — in an otherwise empty compartment. ALBUS smiles. SCORPIUS smiles back.

ALBUS: Hi. Is this compartment . . .

SCORPIUS: It’s free. It’s just me.

ALBUS: Great. So we might just — come in — for a bit — if that’s okay?

SCORPIUS: That’s okay. Hi.

ALBUS: Albus. Al. I’m — my name is Albus . . .

SCORPIUS: Hi Scorpius. I mean, I’m Scorpius. You’re Albus. I’m Scorpius. And you must be . . .

ROSE’s face is growing colder by the minute.

ROSE: Rose.

SCORPIUS: Hi, Rose. Would you like some of my Fizzing Whizbees?

ROSE: I’ve just had breakfast, thanks.

SCORPIUS: I’ve also got some Shock-o-Choc, Pepper Imps, and some Jelly Slugs. Mum’s idea — she says (sings), “Sweets, they always help you make friends.” (He realizes that singing was a mistake.) Stupid idea, probably.

ALBUS: I’ll have some . . . Mum doesn’t let me have sweets. Which one would you start with?

ROSE hits ALBUS out of sight of SCORPIUS.

SCORPIUS: Easy. I’ve always regarded the Pepper Imp as the king of the confectionery bag. They’re peppermint sweets that make you smoke at the ears.

ALBUS: Brilliant, then that’s what I’ll — (ROSE hits him again.) Rose, will you please stop hitting me?

ROSE: I’m not hitting you.

ALBUS: You are hitting me, and it hurts.

SCORPIUS’s face falls.

SCORPIUS: She’s hitting you because of me.

ALBUS: What?

SCORPIUS: Listen, I know who you are, so it’s probably only fair you know who I am.

ALBUS: What do you mean you know who I am?

SCORPIUS: You’re Albus Potter. She’s Rose Granger-Weasley. And I am Scorpius Malfoy. My parents are Astoria and Draco Malfoy. Our parents — they didn’t get on.

ROSE: That’s putting it mildly. Your mum and dad are Death Eaters!

SCORPIUS (affronted): Dad was — but Mum wasn’t.

ROSE looks away, and SCORPIUS knows why she does.

I know what the rumor is, and it’s a lie.

ALBUS looks from an uncomfortable ROSE to a desperate SCORPIUS.

ALBUS: What — is the rumor?

SCORPIUS: The rumor is that my parents couldn’t have children. That my father and my grandfather were so desperate for a powerful heir, to prevent the end of the Malfoy line, that they . . . that they used a Time-Turner to send my mother back . . .

ALBUS: To send her back where?

ROSE: The rumor is that he’s Voldemort’s son, Albus.

A horrible, uncomfortable silence.

It’s probably rubbish. I mean . . . look, you’ve got a nose.

The tension is slightly broken. SCORPIUS laughs, pathetically grateful.

SCORPIUS: And it’s just like my father’s! I got his nose, his hair, and his name. Not that that’s a great thing either. I mean — father-son issues, I have them. But, on the whole, I’d rather be a Malfoy than, you know, the son of the Dark Lord.

SCORPIUS and ALBUS look at each other and something passes between them.

ROSE: Yes, well, we probably should sit somewhere else. Come on, Albus.

ALBUS is thinking deeply.

ALBUS: No. (Off ROSE’s look.) I’m okay. You go on . . .