MINISTRY OF MAGIC, PENAL COURTROOM, WIZENGAMOT BALCONY

The first thing we notice is the sound of cracking electricity mixed with a disturbing choral melody, almost in a march. The forking sparks flicker intermittently like a Tesla coil in a ring around someone at the center of the stage. These blue bolts of controlled lightning are hardly enough to illuminate the space, but through it we can see this individual from the back. His smooth gray scalp, sloping shoulders, and black robe tell us who it is — this is LORD VOLDEMORT. He turns slowly to face the audience, and we see that VOLDEMORT is standing alone in an oval pen, encircled by a balcony of benches behind a wrought iron railing engraved with the Ministry of Magic insignia. Shadowy, imposing figures watch him silently as if seated in the bleachers during a particularly serious game of Quidditch where every player is expected to die. The surrounding torch brackets brighten as HARRY and RON enter.

We are now able to see more of the figures in attendance — especially HERMIONE, who is dabbing her eyes with a soft smile. Though it is a serious moment, she is happy to see them, her boys, together. HARRY and RON edge through the WIZENGAMOT ATTENDEES until they sit beside HERMIONE, stage left. HARRY smiles faintly at HERMIONE, who returns the expression. Then she quickly kisses RON on the cheek, who looks rather impressed with himself.

Across the pen, stage right, other wizards are entering. One approaches DELPHI, who looks sad to see that HARRY is seated elsewhere.

WIZENGAMOT ATTENDEE 01 (to DELPHI): Is this seat taken?

DELPHI looks at the nearest spot on the bench and shakes her head.

DELPHI: No.

WIZENGAMOT ATTENDEE 01: May I?

DELPHI (close to tears): Be my guest.

Peppered throughout the crowd, talking in low voices, we see GEORGE and ANGELINA, BILL and FLEUR, along with CHARLIE who is seated beside a very angry looking goblin. At the highest benches, we spot such key figures as PERCIVAL CLEARWATER with ETHEL, ARTHUR and MOLLY WEASLEY, and two Hogwarts professors who we can assume to be PROFESSOR FLITWICK and PROFESSOR SPROUT. Behind them DRACO, KINGSLEY SHACKELBOLT, and PROFESSOR McGONAGALL.

RON (to HARRY): Quite the event, wouldn't you say, Harry?

HARRY nods, not sharing RON's enthusiasm.

I mean, how many chances do you get in life to watch Lord Voldemort bite the dust? Well, a lot in your case. But for the rest of us — this is something of a holiday.

HERMIONE (staring at VOLDEMORT): We're ready, I think. Ready for this whole affair to be over.

RON (to HARRY): I asked Percy if the Wizengamot would allow us to do the honors. Y'know, instead of Dementors. I think he actually considered it.

HARRY remains silent.

That circle of lightning... Brilliant. Guess the ol' Magical Manacles weren't enough, eh? You've been to a lot of these, haven't you, Harry? Probably not in this courtroom though, eh? Didn't think they even used this room anymore.

HARRY still doesn't reply. He's contemplating many things. RON, however, doesn't handle the silence well. He carries on, in his own nervous way.

Apparently, Percy got permission to use three times as many Dementors than the job requires. Can you believe that? There is protection surrounding the pit so they can't escape, I hear. Not like you're worried. Patronus, and that. It's like an anti-Dementor barrier. We could've used one of those back at Hogwarts... eh, Harry?

HARRY turns his gaze to a large, archaic iron hatch in the ceiling, where the Dementors were waiting to be unleashed. HARRY appears to shiver at the thought.

Once everyone is seated, PERCIVAL stands. He is wearing a plum-colored suit, matching the robes of the WIZENGAMOT ATTENDEES, but with a stark white cravat. He fine-tunes the positioning of his cravat before addressing the court. A PHOTOGRAPHER for the Daily Prophet, who was hiding in the benches and waiting for this signal, raises his camera. PROFESSOR McGONAGALL aims her wand at the PHOTOGRAPHER without looking in his direction. The camera fails to take the shot. ETHEL rises and hands PERCIVAL a scroll.

ETHEL: The Wizard High Court recognizes the Minister of Magic, Percival Ignatius Clearwater, to speak on behalf of the Wizengamot.

There's a slightly limp cheer. ETHEL sits.

PERCIVAL (brashly, his eyes on the scroll): The accused being present, let us begin. We gather here on this day, the third of March, to carry out an historic sentencing that settles, once and for all, the offenses committed by one Tom Marvolo Riddle, alias...

PERCIVAL takes a deep breath. He has never spoken this name before.

Lord Voldemort. The accused will kneel.

Beat. The crowd mutters as VOLDEMORT remains on his feet. There is a violent crack of lightning and VOLDEMORT falls to one knee within the circle of blue electricity. He snarls and complies.

The verdict is in. All preceding hearings have been completed and the accused found guilty, convicted of high crimes against Wizendom and the body populous. Tom Riddle, you are hereby sentenced to death by way of Dementor's kiss. The penalty to be carried out forthwith.

PERCIVAL glares over the top of his scroll.

Under the Wizengamot Charter of Rights, the condemned party has the right to make a final statement.

An ominous silence falls over the courtroom. The witches and wizards in attendance lean forward, ever so slightly. It is known that VOLDEMORT has not spoken throughout the duration of his imprisonment. He lifts his chin. He looks about himself. And then his frightening red eyes land on HARRY. They stare at one another. And then VOLDEMORT does something hugely unusual — he smiles.

VOLDEMORT (to HARRY, his voice like silk): Are you listening? Are you, Harry Potter?

Beat, the eerie smile broadens.

She was my light in the darkness...

HARRY's jaw drops. He leans forward and grips the railing, eyes bulging from their sockets.

HARRY: No...

PERCIVAL (bravely): With that, the pit is lowered and the Dementors are released to claim the last fragment of his soul.

HARRY: Wait... WAIT!

The entire balcony rises, giving the appearance that the oval pen is lowering.

PERCIVAL: Tom Marvolo Riddle, your destruction will be assured.

HARRY is standing, surprised to hear VOLDEMORT say these words. RON turns towards him.

RON: Harry, what is it?

HARRY: Light in the darkness — I — that's what I told Albus! (he looks to PERCIVAL, sheer panic on his face) Don't release the Dementors!