Harry Potter and the Cursed Child полностью

I’ve sorted high, I’ve sorted low,

I’ve done the job through thick and thin

So put me on and you will know

Which House you should be in . . .

Rose Granger-Weasley.

He puts his hat on ROSE’s head.

GRYFFINDOR!

There’s cheering from the Gryffindors as ROSE joins them.

ROSE: Thank Dumbledore.

SCORPIUS runs to take ROSE’s place under the SORTING HAT’s glare.

SORTING HAT: Scorpius Malfoy.

He puts his hat on SCORPIUS’s head.

SLYTHERIN!

SCORPIUS was expecting this, he nods and half smiles. There’s cheering from the Slytherins as he joins them.

POLLY CHAPMAN: Well, that makes sense.

ALBUS walks swiftly to the front of the stage.

SORTING HAT: Albus Potter.

He puts his hat on ALBUS’s head — and this time he seems to take longer — almost as if he too is confused.

SLYTHERIN!

There’s a silence.

A perfect, profound silence.

One that sits low, twists a bit, and has damage within it.

POLLY CHAPMAN: Slytherin?

CRAIG BOWKER JR.: Whoa! A Potter? In Slytherin.

ALBUS looks out, unsure. SCORPIUS smiles, delighted, as he shouts across to him.

SCORPIUS: You can stand next to me!

ALBUS (thoroughly discombobulated): Right. Yes.

YANN FREDERICKS: I suppose his hair isn’t that similar.

ROSE: Albus? But this is wrong, Albus. This is not how it’s supposed to be.

And suddenly a flying lesson is happening with MADAM HOOCH.

MADAM HOOCH: Well, what are you all waiting for? Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.

The kids all hurry into position beside their brooms.

Stick out your hands out over your broom, and say, “Up!”

EVERYONE: UP!

ROSE’s and YANN’s brooms sail into their hands.

ROSE and YANN: Yes!

MADAM HOOCH: Come on, now, I’ve no time for shirkers. Say “UP.” “UP” like you mean it.

EVERYONE (bar ROSE and YANN): UP!

Brooms sail up, including SCORPIUS’s. Only ALBUS is left with his broom on the floor.

EVERYONE (bar ROSE, YANN, and ALBUS): YES!

ALBUS: Up. UP. UP.

His broom doesn’t move. Not even a millimeter. He stares at it with disbelieving desperation. There’s giggling from the rest of the class.

POLLY CHAPMAN: Oh Merlin’s beard, how humiliating! He really isn’t like his father at all, is he?

KARL JENKINS: Albus Potter, the Slytherin Squib.

MADAM HOOCH: Okay. Children. Time to fly.

And suddenly HARRY appears from nowhere beside ALBUS as steam expands all over the stage.

We’re back on platform nine and three-quarters and time has ticked on mercilessly. ALBUS is now a year older (as is HARRY, but less noticeably).

ALBUS: I’m just asking you, Dad, if you’ll — if you’ll just stand a little away from me.

HARRY (amused): Second-years don’t like to be seen with their dads, is that it?

An OVER-ATTENTIVE WIZARD begins to circle them.

ALBUS: No. It’s just — you’re you and — and I’m me and —

HARRY: It’s just people looking, okay? People look. And they’re looking at me, not you.

The OVER-ATTENTIVE WIZARD proffers something for HARRY to sign — he signs it.

ALBUS: At Harry Potter and his disappointing son.

HARRY: What does that mean?

ALBUS: At Harry Potter and his Slytherin son.

JAMES rushes past them, carrying his bag.

JAMES: Slythering Slytherin, stop with your dithering, time to get onto the train.

HARRY: Unnecessary, James.

JAMES (long gone): See you at Christmas, Dad.

HARRY looks at ALBUS, concerned.

HARRY: Al —

ALBUS: My name is Albus, not Al.

HARRY: Are the other kids being unkind? Is that it? Maybe if you tried making a few more friends . . . without Hermione and Ron I wouldn’t have survived Hogwarts, I wouldn’t have survived at all.