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.
They watched from the shadows as the champions dove. And Cedric did exactly as Albus said. He slowed. He pretended his charm was failing. Harry Potter—a younger, lankier, unbroken Harry—surfaced with Ron Weasley just as Cedric arrived with Cho Chang. The crowd applauded both. Cedric grinned, relieved. Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Parts One an...
“Cedric,” Albus called, stepping from behind a boulder. “You’re about to lose. Badly. But it’s not about winning. It’s about… showing mercy. Use the Bubble-Head Charm, but when you see the hostages? Don’t take the fastest route. Wait. Stumble. Let Harry Potter catch up.” The words had burrowed under Harry’s ribs like
A cold voice slithered from the throne beside the statue. In Scorpius’s hand was a sliver of enchanted
But Albus had already snapped the Shard. They fell through a tunnel of melting clocks. When they landed, gasping, on damp grass, the air smelled different—younger, less tired. The Forbidden Forest loomed, but the castle ahead shimmered with a pre-war brightness.
He just waited for his son to come home.
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.
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