MINISTRY OF MAGIC, PENAL COURTROOM, WIZENGAMOT BALCONY

The bolts of magical electric protection dissipate and the iron hatch in the ceiling falls open with a haunting CREAK. The volume of the disturbing choral melody increases as a cold wind drafts through the auditorium. Some black robes arise around people in the audience. Black robes that become black shapes. That become Dementors — flying Dementors. More of them hang down from the open hatch. These black deadly shapes, these black deadly forces, descend. They are everything to be feared. And they suck the spirit from the stage.

HERMIONE (to HARRY): What are you saying?

HARRY looks up at PERCIVAL, and then down at VOLDEMORT.

HARRY (full volume, to anyone, everyone): DON'T KILL HIM!

PERCIVAL (suspiciously): Mister Potter... why are you trying to stop us from carrying out the sentence?

A few of the Dementors sense the fear in HARRY and hover nearby.

HARRY: Percy, you have to stop them! He knows something. Voldemort knows what happened to Al!

PERCIVAL (awkwardly): Calm yourself — or I'll have you removed.

DELPHI stands, concerned, as HARRY pushes through the rows of attendants to reach PERCIVAL. HARRY grabs hold of his jacket.

HARRY: Stop this. You have to stop this!

PERCIVAL: No... Why would I?

HARRY: He has information about my son!

PERCIVAL: It's too late, Harry!

The attendants are uneasy as HARRY takes out his wand and spins in place.

HARRY (to HERMIONE): Hermione — the Cushioning Charm — what is it?!

HERMIONE: What?

HARRY: HURRY!

HERMIONE: Uh... Mollaire.

Gasps are heard across the stage as HARRY leaps over the railing. He incants as he jumps.

HARRY: MOLLAIRE!

He lands softly to the stone floor. VOLDEMORT grins amusedly as HARRY wastes no time in rushing him.

Where is my son?! Tell me!

VOLDEMORT continues to grin as Dementors swoop down onto them, their cloaks particularly ghastly. The pit is quickly overrun. HARRY looks at the approaching Dementors, more annoyed than anything. He aims his wand.

HARRY: Expecto Patronum!

Nothing happens. The swarm of Dementors continue their approach.

Expecto Patronum! Expecto Patronum!

Nothing. There is no magic whatsoever. And the panic HARRY feels in that moment spreads across the stage. RON gets to his feet, understanding all.

HERMIONE (near screaming): His wand! It's not working!

RON: No, Hermione. It's not his wand. (beat) It's Harry. He can't produce a Patronus because he's lost all joy in life. He has no happy thoughts to draw upon.

HERMIONE: Someone help him!

Everyone looks to the person on their right and left. They swallow in fear as HARRY tumbles backward. The Dementors crowd VOLDEMORT.

Ron, we need to get down there!

RON: We can't.

HERMIONE: It's Harry! He needs us!

RON: There's too many of them!

Every eye is glued to the scene as the Dementors are upon them. VOLDEMORT rises off the ground, being pulled, as if from the heart, to the mouths of the vicious, evil beings. Screams are heard, coming from within their tattered robes. A single Dementor swoops down low and settles in front of HARRY. He is helpless, consumed by all the Dementor is making him feel. VOLDEMORT is pulled hard to the ground and then pushed higher into the air as his soul is ripped from him. And the screams just seem to multiply.

Then...

Someone jumps from the balcony into the pit. In the chaos, it is nearly impossible to know who. And then we hear the unmistakable incantation of a magic spell.

THE VOICE (clear and distinct): EXPECTO PATRONUM!

A burst of blinding white light shines out from within the cloud of swooping black robes. Then we see a silvery animal galloping forth from the epicenter of the spell. All sounds cease as the appearance of this angelic creature casts the Dementors back into the hatch in retreat, swarming and scattering toward the darkness.

With the Dementors gone, we can see that it was DELPHI who had sent forward a Patronus, and it's the beautiful white shape of a stag!

DELPHI looks down at her wand, surprised by what she has done, as HARRY hoists himself up on his elbows — he is alive! The stag turns to HARRY with radiant eyes and majestic antlers. The stag looks back at DELPHI, then starts to run toward the audience and disappears.

It was DELPHI. She saved HARRY! And they have the same Patronus! HARRY looks at DELPHI in astonishment and then turns to look at the unmoving body of VOLDEMORT.

HARRY fights to stand as a door within the sunken pit swings open. SHACKLEBOLT springs in. HERMIONE and RON enter, ready with their wands. McGONAGALL comes past HARRY and DELPHI and stands over VOLDEMORT. She looks at them both.

McGONAGALL: He is dead. It's over...

HARRY: And whatever he could've told me about Albus died with him.

Those within the pit circle VOLDEMORT as suddenly a transformation begins! Everyone stares and the ethereal music returns as the body of VOLDEMORT transfigures before their eyes! There is a sharp intake of breath as they see who it is.

WIZENGAMOT ATTENDEE 02: Is that —?

WIZENGAMOT ATTENDEE 03: It can't be!

WIZENGAMOT ATTENDEE 04: The scar on his forehead. It's him —

HARRY stares in absolute shock. The bald and bearded man at his feet is none other than the wizard who has eluded him for years.

SHACKLEBOLT: Pariah Prince. The escapee from Azkaban.

RON: So... this whole time...

HERMIONE: It wasn't Voldemort. He never returned.

McGONAGALL: It was Prince all along. That explains why he abducted the Potters. He was obsessed with Harry.

RON: But... how? It wasn't a transfiguration or Polyjuice...

HERMIONE: No, it's Dark Magic or — something else entirely.

SHACKLEBOLT looks at McGONAGALL, unsure what's going on. Is this a trick? They are quite seriously at a loss. They watch as HARRY's expression changes. He blinks and gets lower.

It's like he sees something no one else can see...

And then...

HARRY drops to his knees.

HARRY (his voice like a quiet cough): No, no, no. Not that. Anything but that.

McGONAGALL (in a whisper): What do you see, Harry?

HARRY: No. No, it can't be! No... The eyes. How...?

HERMIONE: Harry?

HARRY reaches frantically into his jacket and pulls out a ragged square of parchment. He unfolds it hastily. It's a poster of PARIAH PRINCE. HARRY looks at it, and then down at the body.

HARRY: Black and white — for years — the posters were black and white — otherwise — maybe I would've — but I didn't...

HERMIONE: Harry, what is it?

Harry allows the poster to fall from his hands. He wells up with tears.

HARRY: He... He has my mother's eyes... My eyes...

RON: What does that mean?

HARRY begins to weep as he gently touches the scar on PARIAH PRINCE's forehead. And then HARRY cradles PRINCE's head in his lap and kisses the escaped criminal's cheeks repeatedly.  Then HERMIONE gasps. And McGONAGALL covers her mouth with her hands. And SHACKLEBOLT lowers his head. RON realizes what's happened and is horrified. In the balcony, DRACO looks on in astonishment as HARRY rocks in place.

DRACO (softly): Merlin's beard.

PERCIVAL: What's happened? Will someone tell me what's going on?

ANGELINA: It's him. Twenty years older, but it's him.

PERCIVAL: WHO?!

GEORGE: It's our nephew. (beat) It's Albus.

PERCIVAL stares, gobsmacked, as the stage lights begin to dim. The man he just sentenced to death was Albus Severus Potter — 20 years older.

And there is HARRY. His worst dream has come to life.

And the atmosphere has noticeably shifted. They all watch HARRY with sorrow, feeling his indescribable pain and sharing in his limitless confusion.

HARRY (every word spoken in soulful desperation): I'm sorry... Please... My son, my beautiful son... I'm so sorry...