GODRIC'S HOLLOW, JAMES AND LILY POTTER'S HOUSE — 1981

A dark lane of dim street lamps leads to a lovely little English home with an overgrown garden and a stone fence. Warmth radiates from the windows and sweet voices can be heard. A young, attractive couple occasionally walks into view. HARRY enters with a wobble. He stumbles over to the house and hides by the garden wall. He is still drunk, but each intense expression bursts forth with real emotion. We can all feel what HARRY feels. It is both heartrending and marvelous.

HARRY notices the couple staring at each other. And at their baby. It's BABY HARRY! He is sitting on the rug. HARRY smiles, spotting the child's loving look at the small broomstick by the hearth. The father, JAMES POTTER, nods and BABY HARRY totters over to the toy broomstick. The boy climbs aboard and flies out of sight. The mother, LILY POTTER, laughs and HARRY laughs as well from the garden. He covers his mouth timidly.

HARRY (softly and with a smile): How am I able to see this? There's a Fidelius Charm concealing the house from view.

HARRY shakes his head, grinning.

Of course. Of course, I was included in the spell. I was a baby at the time, but it's still me. Which means I can see my parents. And I can see the house, still intact.

His expression fractures. HARRY reaches for the Time-Turner. He looks down at it for a while before seeing BABY HARRY zoom into view again on the toy broomstick.

But not for long.

HARRY merely tilts the Time-Turner forward and time shifts. There is a crack of sound, followed by smashes of light and darkness as the scene changes. The top of the house is removed as well as much of the façade. The discord of the time travel settles. And we're seeing the ruins of a house. A house that has undergone a vicious attack. We look upon the devastation with HARRY. The interior is visible yet ravaged by a battle of curses. The body of JAMES POTTER is lying awkwardly on the stairs, unmoving. A green haze emanates from a bedroom on the second floor. We cannot see much. Half of the bedroom wall was removed. The white bars of a child's crib are discernible, but there is no movement. The stage is terribly silent. We can faintly hear HARRY sobbing from the garden. Until...

There is a spurt of sound. A rumbling engine.

A familiar flying motorcycle is landing. Before it sets down, the driver takes off his goggles, gloves, and jacket. He practically rolls off the side as the tires meet the stage in his haste to reach the house. The motorcycle shuts off and HARRY audibly gasps. The man approaching the house is young and handsome, with wavy brown hair. It is SIRIUS BLACK.

HARRY (quietly): Sirius...

SIRIUS (with despair): No... no, no... James! Lily!

The front door is off its hinges. SIRIUS picks up the door and throws it aside. He walks through the ruins at a stupor. Then he hastily pulls something from his pocket and lobs it into the fireplace. There is a violent blaze of fire and light. SIRIUS speaks into the flames.

Godric's Hollow. The home of James, Lily, and Harry Potter... Send help, Professor. Quickly!

SIRIUS wheels in place and starts searching the house. It's then that he notices someone lying on the stairs.

SIRIUS (in more of a scream): JAMES!

SIRIUS hastens to the body of his best friend. He lifts JAMES and presses him to his chest. SIRIUS is trembling as he cups his friend's cheeks. His voice rattles and hitches with the outpouring of his soul.

No! No! — NO! — No, you can't be dead! — James! — No!

The sorrows of SIRIUS BLACK during this grave moment are profound and felt by everyone in the auditorium. Especially by HARRY. And then, cutting through the silence, there is a child's cry. SIRIUS stirs. He paws at the tears in his eyes and gently lowers JAMES to the foyer floor. He takes out his wand and mounts the stairs slowly, cautiously. He opens the bedroom door, wand aimed. He lowers it. We can partially see inside. There are two bodies on the ground. SIRIUS looks utterly shocked as he enters the room. He steps over the bodies, stopping to mourn over one and staring in distress and holding his wand on the other — the bodies of LILY POTTER and LORD VOLDEMORT. Then he reaches the crib.

Oh, Harry...

SIRIUS lifts BABY HARRY and carefully puts a blanket on him.

BABY HARRY: Mum-ma.

The child points to the unmoving body of LILY POTTER. SIRIUS covers his eyes and carries BABY HARRY into the hallway. He looks intently at the bloody lightning bolt on the boy's forehead.

SIRIUS: How — how did you do this? Voldemort came for you, and — you lived.

BABY HARRY (confused): Momma.

BABY HARRY sees JAMES at the bottom of the stairs. He points.

Dad-dy.

SIRIUS: I know. I'm sorry, Harry.

The tears are flowing for SIRIUS now, but he tries not to show his anguish in front of the child.

I'm so very sorry.

SIRIUS cradles BABY HARRY and walks him downstairs. From the garden, HARRY is overcome with emotion. There's an abrupt burst of green light coming from the hearth. HAGRID enters, struggling to fit through the fireplace opening. He looks around, his gentle eyes pained. HAGRID opens his mouth to speak but cannot find the words. SIRIUS approaches with BABY HARRY. He hands the child to HAGRID. Seeing BABY HARRY alive, scarred, and wrapped in a blanket, HAGRID finds the strength to speak.

HAGRID: Sirius, I — don' understand. Professor Dumbledore, he —

SIRIUS: The charm was working. I checked regularly. Only...

SIRIUS turns away, his expression hardening.

It was you?

His voice constricts.

NO! How could you do this to them?

HAGRID: Who yeh talkin' 'bout? Who coulda dun this?

SIRIUS strides away through the house. He exits in a fit of rage. Then he stops in the garden and looks back at JAMES. The weight of a lifetime of memories presses down upon his shoulders. HAGRID steps into view. He takes up the entire doorframe.

Where yeh goin'?

SIRIUS: The motorcycle is yours. I don't trust the floo network, not with Harry. Wait at Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore will send word. I'll return once I see this through.

HAGRID nods worriedly as SIRIUS hurries into the lane of dim streetlamps. SIRIUS stops. He takes a deep breath and looks back.

And Hagrid...

HAGRID: Yeah?

SIRIUS: Protect my godson.

SIRIUS exits. HARRY watches as HAGRID pulls back the blanket to see BABY HARRY's tiny face. The boy is dwarfed by HAGRID's massive arms.

HAGRID: Yeh must be Harry. Hello, Harry Potter. I'm Rubeus Hagrid.

He sniffs and looks up the stairs. Then over at JAMES.

Yeh've had it tough, not that yeh know it yet. On'y jus' hatched and yeh best'd the... well, they call 'im the Dark Lord. Don' much care for tha' name. Trouble is, yeh've lost yer parents. I want yeh to know — what yeh dun 'ere won' be forgotten — not by me — not by anyfolk. I'll tell yeh tha'.

HARRY watches in silence as HAGRID steps into the garden and takes BABY HARRY to the motorcycle, very close to where he's hiding.

Got summat ter show yeh. If yeh come with me — keep quiet, an' keep yerself covered with tha' blanket — we're gonna take a trip ter a fine house. Grimmauld Place. Nice an' warm. Jus' give us a sec.

HAGRID sets the child onto the ground as he sweeps his leg over the motorcycle. It lowers drastically under his weight. Through the plants in the garden, HARRY comes face to face with BABY HARRY. He looks at BABY HARRY, who looks back with the softest, most innocent expression. Then HAGRID scoops him up. He lifts BABY HARRY gently into his arms.

Yeh'll enjoy this. Worth the breeze, trus' me. On'y — don' go tellin' anyone it flies, right? Yeh're not s'posed ter tell anyone 'bout magic, an' all. Yeh'll learn. I'll teach yeh all I know — which ain' much. But yer whip-smart, aren' you? Anyone can see tha'.

HAGRID turns the ignition.

Ready?

He waits for a response. BABY HARRY only nestles into him.

'Course, you are. I've never met anyone more ready.

And then — without looking back — HAGRID guides the motorcycle into the sky and exits. HARRY stands. He watches the wings as the sound dissipates. He looks back at the ruins of his home, of his father lying dead in the foyer. And he knows what's soon to happen. He can't be there.

HARRY exits, head hanging low.

Fade to black