Harry Potter and the Cursed Child

as they come to her but succumbing all the same.
AUNT PETUNIA: Oh. Yes. Well, I suppose there are a — few. Must have blown over from the other
graves. Or someone’s playing a trick. Yes, I think that’s most likely. Some young rapscallion
with too much time on his hands has gone around collecting flowers from all the other graves
and deposited them here —
YOUNG HARRY: But they’re all marked with their names . . . “Lily and James, what you did, we
will never forget,” “Lily and James, your sacrifice . . .”
VOLDEMORT: I smell guilt, there is a stench of guilt upon the air.
AUNT PETUNIA (to YOUNG HARRY): Get away. Get away from there.
She pulls him back. VOLDEMORT’s hand rises into the air above the Potters’ gravestone, the
rest of him rises after. We don’t see his face but his body provides a jagged, horrific shape.
I knew it. This place is dangerous. The sooner we leave Godric’s Hollow the better.
YOUNG HARRY is pulled from the stage, but turns to face VOLDEMORT.
VOLDEMORT: Do you still see with my eyes, Harry Potter?
YOUNG HARRY exits, disturbed, as ALBUS bursts from within VOLDEMORT’s cloak. He reaches
out a desperate hand towards his dad.
ALBUS: Dad . . . Dad . . .
There are some words spoken in Parseltongue.
He’s coming. He’s coming. He’s coming.
And then a scream.
And then, right from the back of the room, whispering around everyone.
Words said with an unmistakable voice. The voice of VOLDEMORT . . .
Haaarry Pottttter.