NUMBER FOUR PRIVET DRIVE — MIDNIGHT

It is nighttime. Music plays. It is very delicate, very enchanting. We open on a simple neighborhood with rows of street lamps and identical houses that stretch further into the stage, getting smaller and smaller, as if the auditorium was magically lengthened for this final scene. At the center of it all, a street sign. This is Privet Drive.

There is a tabby cat resting on a low garden wall of brick and ivy. It stirs as HARRY enters at the back of the stage. He reaches into his pocket for a cigarette lighter. He holds it out in front of him and snaps it open. One by one, the street lamps are snuffed. It is darker, but the glow of the moon is more than enough to light his way.

HARRY walks carefully down Privet Drive. He notices the cat on the garden wall and smiles.

HARRY: Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall.

The cat transforms into PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL through a bit of stage magic.

McGONAGALL: He's late.

HARRY: He'll be here soon.

McGONAGALL: Was that Albus Dumbledore's Put-Outer I saw?

HARRY: I'm borrowing it from Ron.

McGONAGALL: You've learned what happened, then? Did it work?

HARRY: Yes. The Tempest was never formed.

McGONAGALL: That's a relief.

HARRY: After the Battle of Hogwarts, when Bellatrix Lestrange died, the magical protection guarding the bedchamber at Malfoy Manor adapted, providing access to her husband.

McGONAGALL: Rodolphus Lestrange.

HARRY: When the Chimaera egg was found smashed on the floor next to Voldemort's broken wand, it was widely believed that the heir had been murdered out of jealousy. Lestrange was hunted.

McGONAGALL: But he was caught by Aurors and sent to Azkaban.

HARRY: Which he welcomed. And Rodolphus never escaped because my son wasn't there to inspire him toward another future.

McGONAGALL: What of the prophecy?

HARRY: It was never expanded upon — because that future never existed. Outside of my mind, that is.

McGONAGALL: And the Ministry of Magic?

HARRY: Safe. Never infiltrated. In the absence of a powerful enemy, Percy's time in office was uneventful, leaving him open to considering a new platform to solidify his legacy. He listened to witches like Hermione and elves like Robespierre who were fighting for the freedom and inclusion of all magical beings. The Elvish Welfare Division was never disbanded.

McGONAGALL: True. In fact, it magnified. There are departments for trolls, goblins, werewolves, even vampires.

HARRY smiles.

HARRY: The broader aims of The Tempest were realized by the Ministry, and without a single death.

McGONAGALL: We have much to be thankful for.

She looks at him, desperately moved.

HARRY: This is how it was always meant to be. Everyone is alive and well. (beat) It's incredible how much can change by removing one child from history.

McGONAGALL: You don't have to be fully grown to change the wizarding world. You know that better than anyone.

A broomstick lowers from the dark sky above them. It lands on the road. KINGSLEY SHACKLEBOLT has arrived, a baby in his arms.

McGONAGALL (sounding relieved): Kingsley.

HARRY: No problems, were there?

SHACKLEBOLT: Not at all. She fell asleep once we took flight.

HARRY: Good.

SHACKLEBOLT steps off the broom with the baby. He fixes his eyes on the house nearest the audience.

SHACKLEBOLT: And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why we're here, of all places?

Beat, his piercing stare speaks of his uncertainty. HARRY only grins.

Are you sure about these two, Harry? Are they the... good sort of Muggles?

HARRY: Yes. He's my cousin. Dudley and June want nothing more in life than to have a family. The child will be well cared for, I assure you.

McGONAGALL (to HARRY): And you're certain this is the right thing to do with her? She's going to be a witch. If people find out she's the heir to Lord Voldemort...

HARRY: It's the best place for her. I'll be able to explain everything when she's older.

KINGSLEY hands HARRY the child. Before taking her, HARRY reveals a baby blanket that had been hidden inside his robe. He opens up the blanket and wraps her in its folds. He holds her gently and looks at the baby's sleeping form.

Does this look familiar, Professor McGonagall? It's the blanket I had wrapped around me when you and Professor Dumbledore laid me down on this very doorstep.

McGONAGALL: I remember well.

HARRY turns toward the first house. He steps over the low garden wall and approaches the front door.

HARRY (to the baby): I can't remake your life. You'll always be an orphan. That never leaves you. But you'll be loved here. Free to become whatever you choose.

He sets down the child gently and returns to the other two.

McGONAGALL: She's strong enough — I know she is.

HARRY thinks a moment and then softly nods. Together, they look at her. HARRY looks at the sky — moved.

HARRY: Do you hear that?

SHACKLEBOLT: I don't hear anything.

They are all looking at the sky now.

HARRY: Exactly. No one is celebrating. No flocks of owls. No shooting stars.

McGONAGALL: If they only knew.

SHACKLEBOLT smiles. So does PROFESSOR McGONAGALL. She looks back at the house. HARRY does, too.

HARRY: She will not be famous. Or a legend. There will be no books written about her. Not a single child in our world will know her name.

They step back from the house and walk along Privet Drive. SHACKLEBOLT retrieves his broomstick.

SHACKLEBOLT: Well, that's that. Goodnight, headmaster. (beat, he nods) Harry.

They nod in reply as KINGSLEY SHACKLEBOLT mounts his broom and takes flight. He exits. HARRY and PROFESSOR McGONAGALL walk further down Privet Drive. They come to a stop.

HARRY: Thank you, Professor.

McGONAGALL: Quite the ordeal, Mister Potter. I shall see you soon, I expect.

She exits. HARRY is left alone in the middle of the street. He extends his arm and clicks the Put-Outer. The street lamps are glowing once again. HARRY looks back at his childhood home and considers many things. He takes a deep breath.

HARRY: Good luck, Delphini Dursley.

The curtain lowers.