MINISTRY OF MAGIC, MISUSE OF MUGGLE ARTIFACTS OFFICE

We come upon a delightful scene, a welcome change, a government office run amok. Scores of random, everyday items are magically performing their intended functions while others are, more disturbingly, performing all sorts of unintended functions. Everywhere we look, Muggle objects are bouncing off shelves, spinning out of control, steaming, sprouting arms and climbing out of open windows to elude the grasp of Ministry employees. And more! This is the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. And it's bloody brilliant.

HARRY enters through the office door and sticks his hands into his pockets. He looks unsure if he should even be there. Instead of approaching the array of cubicles, HARRY stands near the exit. After a moment, RON enters. He approaches a younger coworker — LIVINGSTONE — who is wrestling, quite literally, with a hand mixer.

RON: Livingstone, how goes it? Is the hand mixer still shooting beaters at you?

LIVINGSTONE (struggling): No, Mister Weasley. Which is great, thumbs-up great, it's just —

RON reflects on his last statement with a chuckle as if LIVINGSTONE weren't rolling on the ground, fighting off a violently spinning kitchen appliance.

RON (amusedly): Beaters. I reckon there's a cracking good Quidditch joke somewhere in there. I'll give it a think.

LIVINGSTONE: I can't — get them — to stop.

RON: They weren't likely to stop immediately. Let's focus on tiring them out. Put the mixer to good use. Make dough or a batter of some sort.

LIVINGSTONE looks up at RON with hopeless skepticism. RON is grinning at the continued struggle. And then he gets distracted. He's seen HARRY.

LIVINGSTONE: You want me to... bake?

RON (impatiently): Well, it's worth a try. What are you waiting for?

LIVINGSTONE exits with the hand mixer held at arm's length. RON gives HARRY a half-smile and approaches him. HARRY tries to smile back.

HARRY: Hey, Ron.

RON: Harry Potter. In my office. I'm honored.

RON escorts HARRY to one of the larger cubicles at the rear. Something that looks like it could have been a ceiling fan in a former life careens toward HARRY. He ducks just in time as it slams into the wall.

HARRY: I see you have your hands full.

RON: Don't mind it, actually. Paperwork's boring...

RON points to a crystal jar on his surprisingly organized desk.

Do you fancy a toffee? Don't tell Hermione. As if I need reminding that her parents were dentists. We're off sugar at the moment. You know, you can get addicted to this stuff?

HARRY (quietly): Is that right?

RON (in his best HERMIONE impression): Ronald! Have you been eating too many sweets again?! (beat, he laughs) She's quite fierce. But I do love her.

There is a moment of silence. It's awkward for them both. From inside his coat, RON pulls a wrinkled, white paper bag. He holds out the bag to HARRY.

Would you like some of my Fizzing Whizbees? I've also got some Shock-o-Choc, Pepper Imps, and some Jelly Slugs.

HARRY peeks into the bag.

HARRY: Uhm... which one would you start with?

RON: Easy. I've always regarded the Pepper Imp as the king of the confectionery bag.

HARRY: I've just had breakfast, thanks.

RON: Of course.

The two men sit. RON eats nervously. They are still uncomfortable occupying the same space.

HARRY: How's Rose? How's Hugo?

RON: Nothing to report. Hogwarts keeps the children busy.

HARRY: I assume you've heard about your nephew.

RON: Al? Yes. At the Ministry, I hear people talking...

HARRY: And what is the gossip about me and my son?

RON: Not gossip. Concern — over Ginny's death — how he's destroyed by it. That you two are struggling. That he's difficult. That he is angry with you. (beat) Neville told me about the Triwizard Cup, the suspension. So, he's been living at home. I can only imagine what —

HARRY: He's gone.

RON (shaken): What?

HARRY: He's disappeared.

RON nods, takes a deep breath, then opens a lower drawer in his desk. He takes out a bottle and two glasses. HARRY grins faintly as RON pours them each a glass. They drink slowly.

You were there at the funeral. You saw, didn't you? Saw the look in his eyes when I confronted him.

RON: I saw the eyes of a grieving boy who just lost his mother. And a devastated father at the end of his rope.

HARRY: That wasn't grief, that was hate. Al has become a different person entirely — dark, dangerous. I tried to be what he needed — what I thought he needed — and — it all went wrong. Really wrong.

RON: I can tell.

HARRY: I'm through being angry about it. I've had nothing but sad thoughts lately. And I shouldn't. James owl'd me the other day, he's absolutely crushing it at Hogwarts. Honestly. And Lily is a Reserve Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. But they think their brother has been expelled. I don't have the heart to tell them that he's run away to another place or... worse. And he did it because he didn't care — because he doesn't care.

RON: What do you mean "worse"?

HARRY: Remember how you seized an illegal Time-Turner from Theodore Nott?

RON (anxiously): Albus got hold of it?

UNSEEN COWORKER: The Ministry has a Time-Turner? I thought they were destroyed?

RON leans back in his chair and elbows the cubicle wall.

RON (quickly irritated): Private conversation!

He takes a breath and turns his attention back to HARRY.

So, "worse" meaning he's run off to a different time?

HARRY: Likely the future. To a day when I no longer exist.

RON pours them both another drink.

Any advice for an old friend?

RON: You should ask Hermione. She thinks about things a lot more — deeply — than I do.

He takes a drink.

HARRY: If only Ginny were here. She made the world — my world, anyway — less — blurry. (beat, HARRY drinks) And I failed her as well.

RON: Are we talking about Delphini Drake?

HARRY is reluctant to nod, but he does.

HARRY: Ginny had suspicions. She believed we — but we didn't. We weren't.

RON takes his time responding.

RON: You were something. Maybe still are. (beat) But you didn't fail Albus.

HARRY: You don't think this is my fault?

RON: How can that be your fault?

HARRY: I chased him away. I might've even chased him into the future. I treated him like Vernon Dursley treated me.

RON: That was his decision. We all, each of us, control our own destiny.

HARRY: But he's my responsibility. Ginny said that when it comes to parenting, sons need their fathers. It's my fault because I'm a parent who hasn't seen his child — hasn't understood his child.

RON: His actions are still his own, Harry. He had a choice. He made it. And he'll come back. Mark my words, you'll be reunited before you know it.

RON clinks his glass against HARRY's.

HARRY: But shouldn't I have done better?

A sudden explosion rings out behind them. LIVINGSTONE stands, his hair is sticking straight up.

LIVINGSTONE: I — I got it to stop spinning.

RON gives LIVINGSTONE a thumbs-up. LIVINGSTONE lowers.

RON: You don't think I ask myself the same questions? We're all trying to figure this out, mate. Have more good days than bad. Albus is a smart kid, brave like his father. And he has a big Weasley heart in there. He'll decide on his own to rectify his mistakes. Your job is to be there for him when he comes back. Apologize for your own blunders and pardon his. Be willing to understand him. That's your job.

HARRY: You're a good father, Ron.

RON slams down his drink. He absently searches his desk for a quill and parchment, then pushes them toward HARRY.

RON: I'm going to need you to... to put that into writing. Address the letter to Hermione Weasley.

The old friends have a rare laugh together. After a moment, HARRY's sad thoughts return.

HARRY: I need to find my son. And there's something strange about all of this. Like it's connected somehow.

RON: What do you mean?

HARRY: Voldemort is back. The Tempest abduct my family. Ginny dies. You discover a Time-Turner. It finds its way into my son's hand. Albus goes missing. Scorpius Malfoy isn't saying anything. Draco knows what his son is hiding, and he's willing to lose his station in life to protect that secrecy. Ginny's Seer is found dead after she hands me a note at the funeral that sounds like part of a prophecy. A prophecy with wording similar to mine. Voldemort says something about our prophecy being complete or some nonsense... and now he won't say a word.

RON: And your scar is still hurting?

HARRY rubs his scar and nods dismally

HARRY: Nothing feels right. Like I'm being tested. Voldemort is at the bottom of a pit, and yet he still seems to affect every detail in my life.

RON: You really think this could all mean something?

HARRY: It's possible.

RON: Well, if it is, we'll find a way to fight it, Harry. We always have. We could get out there. Get the old team together.

HARRY: Dumbledore's Army has shrunk considerably since its peak. In fact, I'm pretty much all that's left.

RON looks glum as he takes another drink. HARRY is the reason RON is no longer fighting the good fight.

RON (after a pause): It feels like we were all tested and we all — failed. Do you think I've been tested, too? I have, haven't I?

HARRY: I was wrong — to blame you. I always accuse you of jumping to things and it was me who — and — and I assumed it was your fault. I'm sorry I did that.

RON (raising his glass): To letting bygones be bygones.

They clink glasses and finish their drinks. It feels good for everyone to see them connecting again, even if they aren't back to being best friends.

HARRY: You know, sometimes I feel like Voldemort planned all of this. Even what happened to us. Is that possible?

RON: Doesn't matter.

And then Ron burps loudly.

He'll be dead soon.

HARRY: Would you... consider coming down there with me? We could... watch the sentencing carried out together. Only seems right, after all we've been through.

RON stands, smiles radiantly, and pulls a jacket down from a hook.

RON: I was hoping you'd say that. Hermione is saving an extra seat for you, just in case.

HARRY: Lovely woman you've got there.

RON: If only her ne'er-do-well husband would listen for once in his life.

RON smiles once more, pops a toffee in his mouth, and leaves the office with HARRY.