A cold voice slithered from the throne beside the statue.
“I don’t need you to be someone else,” Harry whispered into his son’s messy black hair. “I just need you to be here.” Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Parts One an...
He just waited for his son to come home. A cold voice slithered from the throne beside the statue
The words had burrowed under Harry’s ribs like a splinter of a broken wand. At that same hour, Albus stood with Scorpius Malfoy in the shadow of the Tickling Teapot, a derelict shop in Hogsmeade. Rain slicked the cobblestones. In Scorpius’s hand was a sliver of enchanted glass—a , a lost relic from a broken Time-Turner, which had called to Albus in his dreams for a month. The words had burrowed under Harry’s ribs like
Twenty-two years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry Potter, now Head of Magical Law Enforcement, still woke at 3:47 AM most nights. Not from nightmares of Voldemort anymore, but from a quieter dread: the face of his youngest son, Albus Severus, twisted in silent resentment across the dinner table that evening.