(A/N: In the unlikely event that this is a re-read, you might notice a small edit about halfway through this chapter. Thanks to iNiGmA who asked me why Albus and Scorpius could see the Potters' cottage when the others couldn't. It's Cursed Child canon that they could, of course, but it doesn't make sense.)

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ACT III

SCENE VI

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A TOWER ON TOP OF IT ALL

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Godric's Hollow hummed in the warm afternoon sun. The leaves of a few trees were already hinting at the autumn colour to come. A market clustered around the statue of Harry's parents on the village green beyond the cobbled square and the smell of frying onions drifted from a nearby van. Ron perked up.

"No, Ron," said Ginny. "You can't be thinking of your stomach now!"

Ron looked disappointed. "Just fancied a little something."

"Why break the habit of a lifetime?" said Draco.

"Boys, boys," said Hermione. "This is not the time."

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The church was a solid, comforting one with a square tower. Paths paved with worn York stone ran in straight lines around the building and between rows of neatly kept graves. The back of the churchyard was bounded by a long, high stone wall, with a few house roofs and chimneys visible behind it. Overhead, the clock struck three.

"Wait a moment," said Harry. "I have to just—"

"What?" said Draco. "Hurry up, Potter."

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Harry stood in front of his parents' grave. I'll come back for a longer visit soon he promised silently. Wish me luck. He knelt down and pointed his wand at the ground. "Floresco." A patch of grass swelled into a mound and a clump of broad, wrinkled leaves started to push though. Longer stems unfolded from between the leaves, and buds swelled at the tips. Soon a clump of delicate, pale yellow flowers trembled in the gentle breeze. Primroses in September.

He picked twelve of the spindly stalks and made a little posy which he laid on the grave.

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The church clock struck the quarter. "All right," Harry said at last. "Ready, Malfoy? Let's do this." He took the Time-Turner from inside his robes and adjusted the dials then held it out in front of him. Draco reached out and Harry pressed the knob firmly until it clicked.

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Harry shivered and shook his head to clear it. The light was fading, and the cold autumn wind was a shock to the system. His parents' grave had gone. The rough grass where he stood was undisturbed, and beyond the churchyard, the village green was empty. Most of the trees had lost their leaves, and the memorial to James and Lily was now an ordinary Muggle cenotaph. On the road outside the churchyard, yellow street lights were starting to come on.

Someone was holding his hand.

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He blinked and focused, Draco was standing beside him panting slightly, but thankfully it was not his hand in Harry's. With a sinking feeling he identified the owner. "Ginny! What in Hades? And bloody hell! Bloody, bloody hell, Ron! And Hermione. What the f—what are you all doing here?"

"I wasn't letting you come without me," said Ginny, who was pale and shaky, but wearing the stubborn expression Harry had long ago learned not to argue with.

Ron was looking rather green but he grinned. "Sorry, mate. I had my arm round her. She didn't give me any warning."

Hermione did not share Ron's amusement. She swallowed several times and took a deep breath. "Thank you very much, Ronald, for bringing me along with you. Let's hope we can get back, because if we can't, not only do we leave wizarding Britain without a Minister for Magic and Head Auror, we also leave Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes severely short-staffed. Though"—she added bitterly—"I daresay no one will notice much difference there."

"Now that's below the belt, Hermione," Ron protested.

"And we leave Rose, Hugo, James and Lily without parents," said Hermione. "Ginny, what were you thinking?"

Ginny had gone pale. "Oh, Merlin!" Tears of shock sprang into her eyes. "I wasn't, was I?"

"Well," said Draco, "as we are all here, en masse as it were, I suggest we concentrate our efforts on finding the boys and getting home."

Harry raked his hands through his hair. "Yes," he muttered. "Here we all are. The Head Auror, the Minister for Magic, the sports editor of the Daily Prophet, the manager of a bloody joke shop and a member of the Idle Rich. Merlin, give me strength." He looked up at the church tower. "If that clock's right, it's coming up to five. We're bang-on target. The Time-Turner must be working properly at least."

"Of course it's working properly, Potter," said Draco. "Do you think the Malfoys would have just any cheap old bargain-basement Time-Turner?"

Harry thought Draco might have been making some sort of joke. "Let's hope the boys got the hint about Bathilda Bagshot's shed," he said.

Ginny's forehead creased. "How will they have known which is her house?"

"The same way we will," said Harry. "Bathilda's garden had a gate opening directly into the churchyard. I suggest we start at one end of the wall and look for a gate. Please don't draw attention to yourselves. Draco, cover your head."

"What for?"

"Because you look too much like your father, that's why."

"Ah." Draco pulled the hood of his robes over his head. "Better?"

"Better."

They followed the high stone wall that edged two sides of the churchyard. There were only two gates, and one of them was nailed shut. They gathered around the other.

"It has to be this one." Hermione twisted the heavy ring latch and pushed. "It's locked."

"I'm sure Scorpius would have had the sense to lock it behind him," said Draco.

"Yes, well I'm sure Albus would too," said Harry.

"Alohomora," said Ginny, flicking her wand, and tried the latch again. With an unhappy creak, the door opened just enough for them to squeeze through one at a time.

"Good job your sister stopped you having that ghastly Muggle thing with fried onions, don't you think, Weasley?" said Draco, sniggering. "We'd have had to leave you in the graveyard."

"You wouldn't credit," said Harry, "how many wizards have doors that can be unlocked with one of the first spells the average eleven-year-old learns."

"Point taken," said Hermione with a sniff. "Now, according to Rita's article, if Bathilda's house is over there"—she pointed to a half-timbered cottage draped in a red net of bare Virginia creeper stems with bright leaves heaped at the base of the wall—"the shed should be down here." She indicated a leaf-strewn gravel path that wound between shrubberies and flower beds and through an arch in a dark yew hedge. "I can't see anyone around. Quickly now."

They hurried along the path with Hermione in the lead, their feet crunching on the gravel with what Harry thought was a deafening noise. Just beyond the archway in the thick hedge, the path stopped at the door of a very ordinary-looking, slightly dilapidated, windowless garden shed.

"It's here." Hermione sighed in relief. "Thank goodness. Let's hope the boys are inside."

"It doesn't look like a very big shed," said Ron. "We won't all fit in there."

"Honestly, Ronald," said Hermione. "Are you a Muggle? Bathilda is a witch. It's bound to be bigger inside."

She tapped on the wooden wall. "Boys," she called softly. "Are you in there? Albus? Scorpius?"

"They won't hear that," said Draco. He drew a breath to shout.

"Muffliato!" hissed Hermione in the nick of time.

Draco's bellow emerged in a faint squeak as if someone had pressed a pillow against his face.

Ron tried the door. The latch lifted but the door didn't budge. "It's not locked, but it won't open. I think there's something wedged against the inside."

"Stand back," Draco said lifting his wand. "Contundo!" There was a bang. The door flew out and wobbled precariously on one bent hinge.

"Nice work, Malfoy," said Harry. "Subtle. Unobtrusive. I'm sure no one will notice that."

"Granger's good at mending things." Draco pushed the broken door aside and squeezed past the antiquated lawnmower that had been wedged against it. Harry, Ron and Ginny followed him.

"You were right, Hermione," said Ron. "It is bigger inside. Still a bit of a squash though."

Draco shone a light from the end of his wand and swept it around revealing rough wooden walls, cobwebby garden tools, a broken chest of drawers piled with plant pots and damp newspapers, and a pile of old sacks in a corner. "There's no one here, damn it all! What do we do now?"

There was a disturbance and a loud sneeze. "Er, yes there is, Father." Sheepishly, Scorpius emerged from under the sacks, followed by a dusty Albus.

"Mum?"

"Oh, Albus! Oh, my baby boy!" Ginny wrapped him in a tight embrace and started to cry.

"How did you know?" said Albus to Harry over Ginny's shoulder. "How did you know where we were?"

"We got your message of course!"

"On the blanket, you mean?"

"Of course I do. Good work!"

Albus pulled away from Ginny and delved into the pile of sacks again, pulling something out. It was the blanket. "But I've only just finished writing it!"

"That's time travel for you," said Harry with a grin. "How did you manage to get the blanket away from baby Harry without being seen?"

Albus looked sheepish. "We didn't."

"What do you mean?" Harry poked a finger at the blanket. "You must have done."

Scorpius shook his head. "We saw your parents pushing you in a pram and we followed, but then we lost sight of you and we couldn't find you again. We couldn't find the house either, even though we knew where it was. It must have been because of the Fidelius charm."

"And then," said Albus, "we thought we could get a blanket from somewhere else and write the message and find a way to get it to you later. We found it hanging on Bathilda's washing line."

"On Bathilda's washing line?" With something confusingly between grief and hilarity, Harry realised that the blanket he had always pictured his mother wrapping tenderly around her baby, had probably actually belonged to one of Bathilda Bagshot's dogs.

"It was clean," Albus assured him.

Scorpius took a piece of paper from the inside pocket of his robes and gave it to Draco. "I've been careful with it. It was a message wasn't it, Father? The book on the Knight Bus?"

"It was indeed," said Draco.

"Budge's Bundimun Bane," said Albus, proudly nudging a big brown bottle on the floor with his toe. "We found it in Miss Bagshot's porch."

"Shall we mend this door, wife-of-mine," said Ron, "while the tender reconciliations are underway?"

"Let's hope no one heard the noise." Hermione levitated the door into position. "Hold it in place, Ronald, while I mend it."

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"I knew you'd find a way to get back to us, Dad," said Albus.

Harry's heart swelled with pleasure.

"Did you get a Time-Turner from somewhere? Delphi destroyed ours."

"It was not yours," said Harry. "It was Ministry property. But there'll be plenty of time to talk about it when we're home. I daresay Scorpius's father will have something to say as well."

Draco grimaced in a way Harry thought might have been intended as a smile.

Hermione made a final repair to the shed door. "That's done. Now, boys, I think we should go home."

"But we can't go yet!" Scorpius exclaimed. "We've got to make sure Delphi doesn't get to baby Harry!"

Hermione looked at Harry. "What do you think? Personally, I think we should get back without any further ado."

"But Scorpius is right," said Albus urgently. "She's going to try and change things."

"We don't want to find ourselves on another Time-Path," said Harry, "and then have to come back and do it all again. Albus and Scorpius have already created two new Time-Paths—that we know of. What's she up to, boys?"

"We think she's intending to kill you," said Albus. "Baby Harry, that is—before Voldemort curses you and unintentionally destroys himself."

"Crikey!" said Ron. "So where is she now?"

"We don't know. She destroyed our wands and left us in Scotland. We knew she was coming here so we came on the Knight Bus. And we met a Muggle pleeceman."

"Very resourceful," said Draco. "You've had quite an adventure."

"I suppose we'd better find this Delphi character," said Ron, "and put a stop to her tricks."

"Tricks!" said Harry. "Do you"—he looked around at Hermione, Ron, Draco and Ginny—"still think she's Voldemort's daughter?"

"You already know my opinion, Potter," said Draco.

"What other explanation is there?" said Hermione. "She as good as told us so with what she wrote on the walls of her room at St Oswald's."

"But did she?" said Harry. "It wasn't really that specific, was it? Open to interpretation, you might say."

Hermione pursed her lips. "What other interpretation do you suggest?"

"Well, Megan said—"

"Megan! What has that charlatan got to do with this?"

"She's not a charlatan!" Harry protested. "I asked her to look at Delphini's room. I wanted her impressions. And she said—"

"Oh, Megan this, Megan that!" Hermione's patience broke. "Divination is nonsense! Remember Trelawny."

"Trelawny was a self-deluded fraud, that's true but—"

"And your precious Megan is a fraud too! Delphini is Voldemort's child; she has to be. And the boys are right. Somehow, we have to stop her."

Harry gave up trying to argue. "So how do we do that?"

"She's a really powerful witch, Dad," said Albus. "And she can fly without a broom."

"She might be powerful," said Harry, "but there are five of us"—he glanced at the boys—"sorry, seven. Between us, I'm sure we can get the better of her."

"She might already be here in the village," said Hermione. "She'll want to go to James and Lily's house but she shouldn't be able to see it. I expect she'll try to reach Voldemort before he gets to the cottage. We need a vantage point to watch for her."

"I know Godric's Hollow isn't very big," said Ginny, "but how do we watch all of it?"

"I sometimes wonder if the lot of you are sharing a single brain cell," said Ron. "Obviously, the church tower."

"Of course," said Hermione. "And we should be able to get there through the churchyard without being seen."

Ron poked his head out of the newly repaired door and glanced around. "It's all clear. Let's go!"

In single file, they scurried through the churchyard and round to the main door of the church. It was unlocked, but inside the church was dark and chilly.

"Lumos," said Hermione and electric lights hanging from long cords overhead glowed into life. The nave smelt faintly of damp, furniture polish, and the flowers arranged in a large brass vase in front of the lectern. The arched ceiling was supported by a row of stone pillars that ran down the central aisle between the pews. A stained glass rose window at the back of the chancel showed a bald, bearded man working at a desk. There was some Latin text written below the image.

Harry started walking over to see it better but Hermione said, "We're wasting time. Where's the entrance to the tower? Everyone look!"

"This must be it," said Draco a few seconds later, standing by a stout wooden door set back in an alcove opposite the chancel. He tried twisting the big iron ring latch and pulling. "But it's locked."

"For crying out loud, Malfoy," said Harry. "You're a wizard aren't you? Just try not to destroy it completely. A simple Alohomora should work."

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It did. The door swung silently out revealing a steep spiral of worn stone steps with a thick stair-rope fastened to the walls.

Hermione stepped through the door. "Stay together, everybody. I don't want us to get separated."

"You want me to go up there?" said Ron. "But my knees are telling me not to do this thing."

"Ronald," said Hermione warningly.

Albus and Scorpius ran to the parapet and craned over, nudging each other and pointing. Ron bent down with his hands on his knees breathing heavily. "I'm not built for this sort of thing."

"I think we can all agree on that," said Draco, leaning languidly against the wall.

Godric's Hollow was spread out below them. Houses and cottages, windows warm and yellow in the dusk, clustered along the four roads that intersected at the village green. "That's Bathilda's house. The Potters' must be about there." Hermione pointed.

"Can't you see it?" asked Harry.

"No. Can you?"

"Yes. Can none of you see it? Under that huge tree. The one with washing still out on the line. No?" He looked around at the others.

Everyone shrugged or shook their head.

"It must be because of the Fidelius charm," Harry said. "Everything seems peaceful. The lights are on. Smoke coming from the chimney." He experienced a vicious pang of longing and sorrow.

Ron and I will take first watch," said Hermione. "The rest of you might as well go down into the church. The boys look shattered. Let them rest."

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Albus was wrapped in his cloak asleep on a pew. Ginny was stroking his hair. The clock overhead chimed seven.

"He'll be all right won't he?" Harry whispered. "I mean"—he glanced over to where Scorpius lay sleeping with his head on Draco's lap on another pew—"between the two of them they pretty much destroyed the world on at least two other Time-Paths."

"Don't ever say that to him, Harry," Ginny warned. "One day he'll realise, but for now it's best if he just thinks he's set things right. Why do you think Delphini chose today?"

"What do you mean?"

"She could have chosen any time in the last fifteen months to kill baby Harry. Why choose today?"

Harry stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You're right. Why don't you tell me what's on your mind?"

Ginny's hand paused on Albus's head. "Today's the day, specifically, that Voldemort's rise to greatness was halted. Even though he tried again later, it was the events of today that planted the seed of his destruction. I don't think Delphini wants to kill Harry. She wants to stop Voldemort from attacking him at all. Because if he hadn't tried to kill you, who knows how powerful he would have grown. Possibly invincible!"

"It makes sense. But there's a huge flaw in that argument."

"Which is?"

"Assuming she is Voldemort's daughter, then if she prevents his defeat tonight, she would likely also prevent her own birth."

"Oh. I suppose so. But perhaps she doesn't realise that."

"We need to discuss this with the others. We'd better wake the boys." Harry gave Albus a gentle shake and called, "Malfoy!"

"What now, Potter?"

"We've been thinking. Maybe Delphini isn't planning what we thought. We need to talk to Hermione."

The boys yawned and rubbed their eyes as they trudged sluggishly up the stone steps behind their parents.

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"Ginny thinks we're barking up the wrong tree," said Harry. "She thinks Delphini isn't here to harm baby Harry at all."

"I believe she wants to prevent Voldemort's attack altogether," Ginny said.

Ron scratched his head. "So we aren't here to save Harry, we're here to not save him. 'S'at right?"

"Of course!" said Hermione. "I see it now."

"Well, yeah," said Harry, "If you believe Delphini really is Voldemort's daughter."

Hermione's voice was sharp. "We aren't going there again, Harry!"

"Do we know when to expect Voldemort? What time did he arrive in Godric's Hollow?" asked Ginny.

Everyone turned to Hermione who looked faintly alarmed. She shrugged and lifted her hands in a gesture of helplessness. "I don't know. I don't think anyone does."

"So Delphini won't know either," said Harry.

"I suppose not."

"We need to catch her off guard and overpower her. Surely, between us, we can manage that."

"Sounds perfectly simple when you put it like that, Potter," said Draco.

"Feel free to offer a better suggestion, Malfoy."

"She wants to see Voldemort," said Ron. "So we should give her what she wants."

"No problem there, then," sneered Draco. "Shall we send an invitation?"

"Don't be a cretin, Malfoy," said Ron. "If she knew where Voldemort was, she'd go to him. And if he was here in the church . . ."

"Helpful, Ron," said Ginny.

"Not the real Voldemort, obviously," said Ron—though it wasn't obvious to Harry, nor as far as he could tell, to anyone else—"I mean one of us pretending to be Voldemort."

"That's . . . ridiculous," said Hermione doubtfully.

"It's a horrible idea," said Ginny.

"One of us could transform into Voldemort," insisted Ron. "We could use Polyjuice potion."

Ginny gave Ron a withering look. "Are you offering to get a lock of his hair? Or a toenail clipping?"

"In any case," said Hermione, "Polyjuice potion takes a month to brew, don't you remember?"

"Not Polyjuice potion then," said Ron. "Transfiguration would do it. I'll volunteer."

"You?" said Hermione. "I wouldn't trust you not to crack an inappropriate joke."

"You do it then, cleverclogs." Ron pulled a face at her. "You're pretty good at doing scary and intimidating. I'm terrified of you."

"I could—" Scorpius volunteered.

"No!" everyone cried in unison. Scorpius looked relieved.

Harry sighed. "You're all ignoring the fact that the only one of us with any chance of doing a successful impersonation of Voldemort happens to be me."

"How did you reach that conclusion?" asked Draco.

"The fact that I practically lived with him in my head for years?"

"Well," said Ginny uneasily. "If it comes to that I really did have him in my head for several months."

"Plus," said Harry, "I can understand and speak Parsel, which you all seem to have forgotten. If anything can convince Delphini that she's speaking to Voldemort, it's that."

No one argued.

"Very well," said Draco. "Suppose you successfully take on the appearance of the Dark Lord, we need to attract her attention and get her in here. But how?"

"I sometimes think you're all a bit thick," said Ron. "Where are we now?"

"Er, the church," said Ginny. "Oh! You mean the tower. That can be seen from the whole village."

"Congratulations," said Ron. "Knew you'd get there in the end. Just need to make a bit of noise, a few bangs and flashes to draw her attention. And that's my area of expertise, isn't it?"

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