ASHENGALE HOUSE

Beams of bright moonlight cast down between the open drapes of arched windows onto a darkened music conservatory in shambles. Once an opulent space, this room was recently home to an explosive battle. All along the fine wallpaper, we see scorch marks, even splashes of blood. Taking up the stage is a grand piano smashed in half by a fallen troll, its thick legs face the audience. Broken furniture litters the room and a previously mirror-lined wall is bare, save for a few dagger-like shards along the edges. A flicker of orange light tells us there is a small fire somewhere unseen. There are two presumably dead bodies, wedged partially beneath an immense crystal chandelier that had fallen during the encounter. The bodies are robed, wands in hand.

There is a door to the room. It's closed. Voices are heard speaking in whispers.

HARRY (from off): It's too quiet. Something's wrong. And you're sure this is the right place?

DELPHI (from off): Positive. Ashengale House, London.

HARRY (from off): Then they knew we were coming. Get away. Get away from there.

DELPHI (from off): I was going to open the door.

HARRY (from off): All the others were open. I don't trust it. Have you looked around?

DELPHI (from off): Hiding places.

HARRY (from off): Exactly, no hiding places. If there's a cupboard where we'll find Alecto and Amycus Carrow, it's in there. Let me.

The knob on the only door jiggles.

Locked. Stand back. (beat) Alohomora!

The bolt is thrown on the lock. The door eases open. HARRY and DELPHI enter, wands at the ready. The standing devastation surprises them. They take a few steps. DELPHI walks right into a dark puddle.

DELPHI: What happened here? Is that —?

HARRY: Blood. And it belonged to the Carrows, from all appearances.

HARRY points to the bodies beneath the chandelier. DELPHI bends and carefully cleans the blood off her shoes.

DELPHI: They were crushed to death. Was it the troll?

HARRY: No, the trolls have sided with The Tempest. It was likely here to guard them. Look at their faces.

Beat, DELPHI gasps.

DELPHI: Why — why do they look like that?

HARRY: It wasn't the chandelier that killed them. This has all the markings of the Cruciatus Curse.

DELPHI: They were tortured to death?

HARRY: It appears so.

HARRY stands over the bodies. He stares down at them, captivated.

I've never seen the aftermath up close.

DELPHI: We're too late.

HARRY: I don't know what happened here... but the sooner we leave, the better.

DELPHI squints at one of the bodies. She moves closer.

What is it?

DELPHI: There's a letter pinned to Alecto's robe. It's —

DELPHI turns and looks at HARRY, confused.

HARRY: What?

DELPHI (her voice pinched): It's addressed to you.

She takes the parchment to the window and reads it aloud.

"Harry, I did this so you wouldn't have to. They died before I could get an address. Rodolphus Lestrange is the secret keeper for the headquarters of The Tempest. Find him and kill him."

HARRY moves to the window.

HARRY: Who did this?

DELPHI: It wasn't signed.

DELPHI hands the letter to HARRY.

There must be someone out there trying to help us.

HARRY wavers in place. His arm falls and he looks around the room, horror-struck. He knows something.

DELPHI: Harry?

He stumbles away from her. He touches his scar.

What's wrong?

HARRY: The letter isn't just addressed to me. It's in my handwriting.

DELPHI: WHAT?! How is that in YOUR handwriting?

HARRY: There's only one explanation. I — I came here — from the future.

HARRY sidles up to the ruined piano and the fallen troll. He sits on (or rather falls onto) the piano bench. When he speaks, it is but a distant murmur.

I guess I... stop Percy from destroying the Time-Turner. That, or he was never planning to destroy it. He had expressed hope at the funeral... that Ginny... could be...

HARRY shakes his head violently.

But, no! No, this couldn't have happened — they've been tortured — I... I can't have done this! I used an Unforgivable Spell?! NO!

HARRY is incredibly unsure. He looks back at the letter. His head shakes slowly.

DELPHI: Harry, do you even feel the kind of anger that would lead to this?

HARRY: Yes, but I...

DELPHI: Well, maybe it's something else. Some other form of magic. A future version of you couldn't help us, right?

HARRY (sighing): Yes, in fact. I've done it before.

DELPHI: You have?

She looks completely shocked by this.

When?

HARRY: My third year at Hogwarts. Sirius Black was on the run. We were in the Forbidden Forest — there were dementors surrounding us — I couldn't stop them — they moved in. I was only moments from dying when someone saved me. Someone cast a Patronus and the dementors fled. It wasn't until later, when I was using the Time-Turner and found myself in that exact position in the forest, that I knew it had been me. I was the one. I cast the Patronus to save my own life in the past.

DELPHI: And now, it seems like you're saving yourself again — but from this — burden.

HARRY: Yes. Temporarily.

HARRY stares forward, his expression going blank. He cannot handle the truth of the chaos surrounding him. Or of who he is destined to become. DELPHI reaches out and places a hand on his shoulder. HARRY recoils from her touch, so lost in a daydream that he thought he was alone in the room. He breathes and places his hand on hers, more for stability than comfort.

DELPHI: So, we need to find Lestrange if we're going to take down The Tempest. And, apparently, we steal the Time-Turner in there somewhere.

HARRY: That much is clear.

DELPHI: What would Percy have done with it? Hidden it in his office?

HARRY: No, he doesn't do well with real responsibility. He would've given it to someone he could trust completely. Someone who'd only do the right thing with such a powerful device.

DELPHI: Any idea who that could be?

HARRY: Yeah. I do.