HARRY POTTER'S HOUSE — CHRISTMAS

Together, HARRY and DELPHI clear the dinner table. DELPHI brings the dishes to the sink and HARRY starts the washing. It's an oddly domestic moment for them and they both look uncomfortable.

DELPHI: So, it's got worse? With Albus?

HARRY: It's got the worst it can possibly get. He has no respect for authority, cares next to nothing about Hogwarts... it's like every day is a battle with him. A battle I can't seem to win.

DELPHI: You're doing a fine job, all things considered.

HARRY: Thank you, Delphi. I didn't think I could do all this by myself. (beat) Correction, I still don't. And on top of all that, I fear for their safety every minute of every day. The Tempest abducted my family right in front of my eyes and there was nothing I could do to stop them. Everyone thinks I'm this great wizard, but they're wrong.

DELPHI: Harry. Nothing could be further from the truth.

HARRY: Tell that to Fenrir Greyback and The Tempest after they slipped away so easily (HARRY scrubs the dishes harder) — or the Augurey — or Rodolphus Lestrange — or Lord Pariah Ruddy Prince Blitzfanger, or whatever he's calling himself now.

DELPHI (looking down at the sink): Isn't that easier with magic?

HARRY: I'm... I left my new wand upstairs.

DELPHI: Uh-huh.

She catches his eye.

Why aren't you using magic, Harry?

HARRY: I don't know. I've... lost my faith in it, I suppose. I wish Dumbledore was here. At least then I'd have someone to yell at. (HARRY laughs) He was very patient with me, Dumbledore. I used to have more patience. Lately, I'm just confused. So much has gone wrong and no one can explain anything to me.

DELPHI: Hermione came by the office. She's trying her best to understand what happened — how Voldemort could have returned.

HARRY: Did she offer any suggestions?

DELPHI: One. Something to do with a Horcrux not being fully... vanquished.

Pause, HARRY turns off the faucet and dries his hands.

How did she put it?

DELPHI looks away.

Eradicating the container... beyond magical repair.

HARRY: I've heard that before. Without the "eradicating" bit.

DELPHI: Apparently, it was in the earliest description she could find on the keeping of Horcruxes. Hermione wasn't sure if it was a matter of over-interpreting formal language, or if it meant that one of Voldemort's last Horcruxes was never fully destroyed. I asked her to explain it better. She was... uninterested.

DELPHI looks away a second time.

But could Hermione be right? Is it possible that part of his soul lived on in a half-destroyed Horcrux?

HARRY sways in place. He sits at the dinner table.

HARRY: I need to confess something to you.

He scratches the back of his left hand.

I haven't been entirely truthful.

DELPHI: What is it, Harry?

HARRY: Only a few people know this, but... well... You were a fantastic student. Top marks at Hogwarts.

HARRY hesitates, considering his words before speaking.

Tell me — what do you know about my connection with Voldemort?

DELPHI: The night he killed your parents, and gave you that scar, Voldemort transferred some of his powers onto you. The curse rebounded onto him. He fled, barely alive, and went into hiding for years.

HARRY: Why did he want to kill me?

DELPHI: The prophecy. Voldemort came to your house to kill you because he believed you were the child of the prophecy who was destined to destroy him.

HARRY: And in doing so...

DELPHI: He made you the child of the prophecy.

HARRY: Why did I survive that night?

DELPHI: It was your mother. She was protecting you after your father told her to take you and run. Her choice to shield you from Voldemort's curse provided you with a very old, protective magic. That sacrifice deflected the curse and made Voldemort unable to even touch you.

HARRY: Until?

DELPHI: Until he was restored to full strength thirteen years later. The potion that revived him required the blood of a foe. Your blood.

HARRY: That's right. And with my blood running through his veins...

DELPHI: He also had your mother's blood, which meant her sacrificial protection. Making him able to touch you and, ultimately, kill you.

HARRY: But killing me was only partially his goal, to protect himself from the prophecy. I was a road block — something in the way of his ultimate purpose. Which was?

DELPHI: To conquer death.

HARRY: Exactly. And how did he achieve this?

DELPHI: By splitting his soul through Horcruxes.

HARRY: How many times did he split his soul?

DELPHI: Six times. Into seven parts.

There is a pause. A long pause. DELPHI sits.

HARRY: When Dumbledore first told me about Horcruxes, he believed that, on the night Voldemort came to my parents' house to kill me, there was one Horcrux left to make.

DELPHI: His sixth and final.

HARRY (pausing): When the curse rebounded, he lost most of his power and became something like a spirit, possessing other humans, animals, unable to complete his mission. When Voldemort was restored to a new body, to full strength, he made Nagini the sixth Horcrux.

DELPHI: His snake, the only living Horcrux.

There is another long pause.

HARRY: That is not the whole truth. There was another living Horcrux.

DELPHI looks confused and seems to go over the other five Horcruxes in her mind, counting on her fingers, until HARRY finishes his thought.

It was unintentionally created.

DELPHI: Wait, you're saying...

HARRY: A seventh.

DELPHI: And was it... eradicated?

HARRY: I thought so.

DELPHI: What was it?

HARRY (bluntly): Me.

DELPHI leans back in her chair. She stares disbelievingly at HARRY.

DELPHI: But — how?

HARRY: On the night he tried to kill me as a child, Voldemort's soul was so unstable that it fragmented when hit with the Killing Curse. Part of his soul attached itself to mine. Which is why —

DELPHI (quickly): You were able to access his thoughts and feelings — his ambitions — understand Parseltongue. That's why your scar burned when Voldemort was nearby or filled with hate. Because you're a Horcrux!

HARRY: I was. But it was destroyed more than two decades ago.

DELPHI stands from the table. She paces the room.

DELPHI (to herself): Eradicating the container beyond magical repair. That's what Hermione was trying to tell me.

HARRY: Well, that probably had to do with Basilisk venom, which has the power to destroy a Horcrux. And Phoenix tears, being the antidote. I was saved from being — "eradicated" — my second year when the —

DELPHI: No, Harry. Don't you see?

HARRY: What?

DELPHI: Why didn't Voldemort succeed in killing you?

HARRY: He didn't realize that since my mother's blood was alive and residing in his body, it actually kept me from dying when he tried to kill me during the Battle of Hogwarts.

DELPHI: Exactly. Your mother's sacrifice is a form of magic. An old enchantment, active in his body. You were nearly dead. Until you were saved through her sacrificial blood that lived on in Voldemort. Which means —

HARRY (breathless): Magical repair.

DELPHI nods, looking astonished.

DELPHI: You lived. The container was never eradicated.

HARRY: But... he died. I saw him die. In fact, Voldemort's body is being kept behind glass in a sepulcher at Hogwarts.

DELPHI: He could've left his body —continued living a spectral existence in exile — like before!

HARRY: But my scar. It stopped.

DELPHI: And now it's back.

DELPHI paces more.

Harry, do you remember your scar ever burning before you turned eleven? Before you knew you were a wizard? When Voldemort was hiding for all those years?

HARRY: No.

HARRY is beginning to look afraid.

DELPHI: But you were still a Horcrux all that time. It was only when he was planning his return, when he inhabited Professor Quirrell's body in order to retrieve the Philosopher's Stone, that you felt it. Felt him. Could it be possible that Voldemort was just lying dormant all these years? Waiting for the right moment to return? And that's what triggered your scar to burn again?

HARRY stands. He moves back to the sink and continues washing dishes.

HARRY: No. No, this is... a theory. I refuse to accept it as a possibility.

DELPHI: How can you be so sure?

HARRY: I... because I am. Because of the last conversation I ever had with Dumbledore.

DELPHI: And how was he sure?

HARRY (his voice lowers): Well, he wasn't, actually.

HARRY stares at one of the soapy dishes.

He... he guessed.

DELPHI: He guessed?!

HARRY: It's not — he's not — can we just drop it?!

DELPHI slowly makes her way over to him.

DELPHI: You said only a few people knew this. How many exactly?

HARRY: Four people. Hermione, Ron, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Gin —

HARRY breaks. He sucks in a shallow breath.

Sorry, three — and now you — so, still four people. Other than myself.

DELPHI: Harry, you do realize, whether this theory is true or not, Percival Clearwater can never find out that you were one of the Horcruxes of Lord Voldemort. If he finds out, he'll —

HARRY: I know what he'll do.

The longest pause thus far separates them. DELPHI dries a dish and puts it away. As she dries another, ROBESPIERRE enters at a wobble. He opens the ice box, scratches one of his long ears, and takes out an uncovered wheel of cheese on a plate. He steps between HARRY and DELPHI, pulls down a wet fork from the counter, and returns to the living room without acknowledging them.

DELPHI (with an awkward laugh): This got very serious all of a sudden.

HARRY: I preferred it when we were only talking about a shoe.

HARRY turns off the water. He faces DELPHI.

I'll discuss it with Hermione. See what she thinks.

DELPHI: Good plan. I'm sure it's just a theory.

HARRY: Yeah.

DELPHI unexpectedly puts a hand to his cheek.

DELPHI: I care about you, Harry.

HARRY: As friends.

DELPHI: Yes, as friends. (she holds his gaze) And maybe more than that.

They look at one another for what seems like an eternity. Are they about to kiss? Her hand lingers on his cheek. Then, HARRY reaches up and takes it down. DELPHI misreads this gesture and tries to hold his hand. HARRY abruptly wrenches himself free.

Their moment, whatever it was, has passed. And he backs away.

HARRY: I — I think you need to go.

DELPHI: I don't want to go.

HARRY: I don't think I want you to either. But — I'm very confused right now, and Ginny...

DELPHI: I understand, Harry.

DELPHI looks carefully at him. HARRY smiles momentarily. Then his face sinks.

HARRY: Really, I need to you to go. Please. (his voice rises) Go.

DELPHI: Okay. I'm sorry.

DELPHI turns and leaves the kitchen in tears. She exits through the fireplace. HARRY grips the sink, leaning all his weight against the counter, then sluggishly leaves the room and ascends the stairs. He stops at the door to what we know to be ALBUS' bedroom.

HARRY (his voice tender): Al, can we talk?

He waits for a response. There isn't one.

It's Christmas. Maybe we can try starting over.

Still no response. HARRY leans closer to the door.

You can't keep shutting me out. I know I haven't been... (beat) What I said last week, that I wish you were more like James... I shouldn't have said that. You are fine just the way you are. Better than fine. I'm just... And James... He's like your mum — bold, fierce, funny. Not that you... What I mean is, you are like me. Your childhood appears to be a constant struggle. So was mine.

HARRY waits, watching the doorknob hopefully. He takes hold of it.

Maybe if we look for more ways that we are alike and less...

HARRY opens the door. Lights come up on ALBUS' bedroom. He isn't there. HARRY checks the hallway bathroom. He rushes back into the room. The window is open. The moment he starts to stick his head out, an owl comes flying in carrying a letter. HARRY opens the letter and reads it aloud.

"Potter. Your son just showed up at Malfoy Manor. Thought you should know. Draco."

HARRY whips the letter across the room in a fit of rage. He nods, jaw clenched.

Clever boy.

Cut to black