MINISTRY OF MAGIC, INTERROGATION CHAMBER

We open on a thickly bricked, dungeon-like room. At the center, a polished wood table. There are two chairs across from one another and a single occupant — SUSPICIOUS MAN / THEODORE NOTT — elderly, with a long silvery beard and a jet-black cloak. His drawn expression is broken intermittently by irritated glares at the intensely bright bars of fluorescent light directly overhead.

The only door opens with a creak. HARRY enters casually. He draws back the chair and sets PERCIVAL's newspaper onto the table. Next to this, he drops a worn leather briefcase.

HARRY (dryly): Good afternoon. My name is Harry James Potter. I am the Head of Magical Law Enforcement. I'll be asking you a series of questions over the next few minutes. Please answer them honestly, and to the best of your ability. I will not be using Veritaserum. I will not be using Legilimency.

HARRY unlatches his briefcase, takes out a folder, an ink pot, and a feather quill. He sets the items beside the newspaper. HARRY makes eye contact with NOTT for the first time since King's Cross station. This is followed by a long silence, and we are to understand that this is part of HARRY's process when interrogating a suspect. The lights flicker, causing NOTT to wince. He gazes at the unused iron sconces.

NOTT: Would it be too much to ask? My eyes are — unacquainted with this sort of illumination.

HARRY reaches into his jacket and pulls out a wand. He sets it on the table delicately.

HARRY (entertaining himself): I would, but... my wand is rather glitchy these days. Untrustworthy. I fear I might accidentally set this building ablaze, were I to accommodate you. Besides... (Harry admires the long fluorescent bulbs) this is my preferred aesthetic. I grew up with Muggles and I've found over the years that the use of electric lighting tends to yield... favorable results.

HARRY unfolds the newspaper.

HARRY: The article in the Daily Prophet describes you as a retired bookseller. The patch on your robes, however, tells me that you are an Unspeakable from the Department of Mysteries. Yet you own a house. How is that possible, I wonder? As I understand it, your sort aren't allowed to leave the Ministry.

NOTT: I've done many things my sort are not historically allowed to do.

HARRY: Can't say I'm surprised to hear that.

From the other side of his jacket, HARRY removes the Time-Turner. He sets it gently on the table, just out of reach.

Mind explaining this?

Another long and profound silence passes between them.

The raid of your home was due to repeated violations of the twenty-third and forty-seventh decrees of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts ordinance — illegal acquisition or display of inappropriately enchanted Muggle objects.

NOTT: A walking garden gnome.

HARRY: Yes. Which begs the question, why would you risk being exposed when there were all sorts of egregious breaches of wizarding law within your home? I can think of but two explanations. The first, that you are a foolish old man with a natural inclination toward acting rebelliously when lawn ornaments are involved. The second, that you wanted to be discovered. Or, more accurately, you wanted this Time-Turner to be discovered. Which is it?

Another long silence ensues. HARRY opens his folder abruptly, then uncorks the ink pot. He is losing patience.

Weasley's citation has you down as one (he reads) Theodore Nott. Can you confirm this?

NOTT: That is my name.

HARRY: Any relation to the Theodore Nott, former Death Eater, who was present many years ago during the battle that took place in your department — where Sirius Black was murdered — where all the Time-Turners were destroyed, as well as most of the prophecies?

NOTT: Direct relation.

HARRY (inking the quill): Am I then to assume you are the man's father?

NOTT: No. I am the man.

HARRY: Sorry?

HARRY sets down the quill. He is thrown off for the first time.

You are easily over a hundred years old. I was there during the battle. The Death Eater in question couldn't have been half that.

NOTT: And yet...

Impatient, HARRY takes hold of the man's left arm and pulls back the sleeve of his robe to reveal a dull tattoo of the Dark Mark.

HARRY: What are you saying?

NOTT: Allow me to show you.

NOTT lowers his sleeve and extends an open palm toward HARRY's wand. HARRY hesitates, scowls, then shrugs languidly.

HARRY: I see no problem with that. This room offers me many protections. If you think for a moment that you can use this faulty wand to harm me or escape, you're mistaken.

HARRY passes his wand to NOTT who points it directly at his own chin. NOTT closes his eyes. The room brightens as his face gradually changes — wrinkles fade, the beard recedes to soft, clean-shaven skin. His hair transforms from thin and white to full and dark. NOTT lowers the wand.

HARRY (amazedly): You are him. Why transfigure yourself to appear older?

NOTT: I haven't. In fact, the opposite is true.

NOTT points HARRY's wand at his chin once more. The visage of the elderly man returns.

HARRY: I...don't understand.

NOTT: We age — every last one of us, Philosopher's Stone permitting. The ability to travel through time is both a gift and a curse. We are forever on our own path, Potter, moving steadily forward through time. This device simply allows you to visit other paths along the way.

HARRY: Why have the Unspeakables allowed you entry into their department after all you've done?

NOTT: You will learn the answer to that soon. Now is not the time for such questions.

HARRY: Is that how this works? You act as if you've witnessed this all before.

NOTT: I have.

HARRY (doubtful, but wanting more answers): So, you created a Time-Turner, I'm assuming from the remnants of what remained. The report states that it's not just an hour-reversal turner — that it goes back further.

NOTT: True, it could theoretically go back centuries. It's not entirely different to the Time-Turner that was loaned to Hogwarts during your third year, although this device requires time to recharge during repeated use.

HARRY (intrigued, he reaches for the Time-Turner): How could it take you back centuries? The spinning alone —

NOTT: The dials, the turning mechanism... they have always been unnecessary. Those are but frameworks used to assist the mind of the user in performing wandless magic.

HARRY: Wait. You're saying that I merely need to think about —

NOTT: Careful, Mister Potter. Shield your thoughts.

HARRY cautiously slides the Time-Turner to the edge of the table. He stares at it for a beat.

HARRY: So, you used this to observe the past, present, and future?

NOTT: Only the future, Harry. Despite my desires to witness the past, I would never allow myself such an indulgence. Observance of the past is too dangerous.

HARRY: Why?

NOTT: To avoid inadvertently altering the course of history.

HARRY grins smartly.

HARRY: But you and I both know, you can't change the past. Any actions taken during your travels would only fulfill the events of the past. If you can't change history and you can't change the future... you're what... simply observing time as a philosophical pursuit? No agenda to the contrary?

The longest stretch of silence begins. HARRY retrieves his wand. He taps it against the table.

Why were you watching my family at King's Cross station?

NOTT: I wasn't watching your family. I was watching you.

HARRY: Why's that?

NOTT: Because this is your finest moment, Mister Potter. Your ultimate challenge. Your greatest battle. Perhaps your cruelest defeat. And it all began on that day — the journey that only now is beginning to reveal itself.

HARRY (dubious and amused): Is that right? And what sort of journey are we talking about here? Should I have packed a bag?

NOTT: I have seen much. Everywhere — Everything — Everyone. And you, Harry Potter, in the coming year, must make some very difficult decisions... on matters that can shape the course of your life and the lives of those about whom you care most deeply.

HARRY: If this is supposed to frighten me, I promise you that I've heard a lot worse coming from that chair.

NOTT: Heed my warning, Harry. For I have witnessed you falling as you rise and rising as you fall. The trials will be merciless and uncompromising. Until, alas, a day will come when you will be forced to make the ultimate choice.

HARRY (hesitating, his amusement abated): What choice is that?

NOTT: The hardest of them all. To choose between life or death.

HARRY leans back in his chair. He crosses his arms. This hasn't gone as planned and he doesn't know how to react or what to believe. NOTT is watching him closely.

HARRY: Life or death — who are we talking about here? What exactly have you seen?

NOTT: We shall meet again, Harry. Twice, and at your lowest points. Only then will I answer more of your questions. (NOTT looks past HARRY and fixates on the door) For now, there is someone waiting for you in the corridor outside your office.

HARRY faces the door, looking utterly bewildered.