View Single Post
Old January 29th, 2013, 11:17 pm
jbwarner86  Male.gif jbwarner86 is offline
First Year
Join Date: 04th January 2012
Posts: 34
Re: Fan Scripts: Script your own version of Harry Potter

I dipped my toes into this sort of thing a little while back. I make no secret of my hatred for Mike Newell's take on Goblet of Fire, so I took a shot at rewriting it myself. I didn't finish the thing, but I do like what I wrote. I've always thought that the best way to adapt the Harry Potter books would be as seven animated multi-part TV miniseries, so that's the forum I had in mind when I wrote this. Thus, it's a little more leisurely in the pacing than a movie would be, since I'd have all the time I need to tell the story.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire: Part 1:    

(Ext. Riddle House – Night)
The camera pushes through the mist covering the neatly trimmed lawn, swooping past the ivy-covered mansion that is the Riddle house. Up and over the roof it goes, into the sprawling back yard, finally coming to rest on a small shack – the residence of caretaker Frank Bryce. A light is on in the window.
(Int. Frank’s Shack – Cont’d)
Frank hobbles to the stove, clutching his hot water bottle in one hand and leaning on his walking stick with the other. He sets down the bottle and puts the kettle under the faucet to fill it up – but stops as he glances out the window.
From Frank’s POV, we see the Riddle house. One of the windows on the second floor is illuminated from within, flickering, as if someone has lit a fire.
Frank scowls.

Bloody kids…

He hobbles away from the sink.
(Ext. Riddle House – Cont’d)
Still leaning on his stick, Frank walks across the lawn as quickly as his bad leg will allow. He puts a key in the back door and opens it silently.
(Int. Riddle House – Cont’d)
The inside of the house is covered in dust; nobody has lived there for decades. But as Frank silently enters, we can hear voices from the second floor – the voices of Wormtail and Voldemort.

There’s a little more in the bottle, my lord, if you are still hungry…

Later. Where is Nagini?

Out…out exploring the house, I think…

You will milk her before we retire, Wormtail. I will need feeding in the night…

Frank slowly ascends the stairs, still not making a sound.

H-how long do you expect us to stay here?

A week…perhaps more. It would be foolish of us to act before the Quidditch World Cup. Every meddler from the Ministry of Magic will be on the watch for signs of unusual activity…

Frank reaches the second floor landing and notices a door ajar. Light streams from it.

You know…m-my lord…it-it could be done without Harry Potter. I mean, if we were to use another wizard – any wizard, really, the thing could be done so much more quickly…

I have my reasons for using the boy, as I have already explained, and I will use no other…I believe my plan will be effective. All I need from you, Wormtail, is a modicum of courage…of which you seem to be in short supply.

Frank leans close to the door to listen in.
Inside the room, Wormtail stands hunched and frightened-looking beside Voldemort’s armchair. The entire scene is shot so that we never see Voldemort himself.

B-but Bertha Jorkins’ disappearance will not go unnoticed for long, my lord. And if we proceed with the plan…

“If”? “If”, Wormtail? You WILL do the thing, quietly, and without fuss. I only wish that I could do it myself, but in my current condition… Come now, Wormtail, one more murder, and our path to Harry Potter is clear.

Frank listens outside the room, rapt with tension. A hissing sound comes from beneath him; he looks down and starts as the great snake Nagini slithers past his feet into the room. From inside, Voldemort speaks briefly in Parseltongue. Then:

Ah…how enlightening. Nagini tells me that there is an old Muggle standing right outside the room, listening to our every word…do invite him in, Wormtail. Where are your manners?

The door flies open, and Wormtail nervously beckons Frank into the room. Frank bravely limps inside. Voldemort is still concealed by the armchair.

You heard everything, Muggle?

I don’t know what you mean by “Muggle”. All’s I know is I’ve heard enough to interest the police tonight, let me tell you. You’re plannin’ murder, you are! And I’ll have you know, my wife knows I’m up here, and if I don’t—

You have no wife. Nobody knows you are here. Do not lie to Lord Voldemort. He knows…he always knows…

The determination starts to fade from Frank’s face. He swallows.

“Lord”, is it? Well, I’m afraid don’t think very highly of you, “My Lord”. Why don’t you turn ‘round and face me like a man?

VOLDEMORT (almost whispering)
But I am not a man, Muggle…

Wormtail grips the back of the chair and turns it to face Frank. We still can’t see what Voldemort looks like – but we do see Frank’s reaction, which is one of sheer terror.

I am much…much more…than a man…

Frank screams. A flash of green light fills the screen.

(Int. Harry’s Bedroom – Night)
Harry suddenly jolts awake, his scar burning. Hissing with pain, he puts a hand to his forehead and winces. After a second or two, he regains his composure and blinks in the darkness, breathing heavily.

What the hell was that?

(Int. Harry’s Bedroom – Morning)
Harry seats himself at his desk, dips his quill into his ink bottle, and begins to write a letter. Hedwig sleeps soundly in her cage by the window.

HARRY (v.o.)
Dear Sirius, thanks for your last letter. Glad to hear you’re doing well. Things are the same as usual around here. Dudley’s still complaining about his diet, and Aunt Petunia said she’d cut his pocket money if he didn’t stop smuggling donuts into his bedroom, so he got really mad and chucked his Super Nintendo out the window. (That’s a sort of computer thing that Muggles play games on.)

Harry hesitates, looks out the window, then continues.

HARRY (v.o)
I’m all right, mostly, but something weird happened early this morning. My scar hurt again. Last time it was because Voldemort was at Hogwarts. But I don’t reckon he can be anywhere near me now… can he?

Harry hesitates again. He turns towards the door as he hears Aunt Petunia’s voice.

Vernon, Dudley! Breakfast!

Harry sighs, puts down his quill, and stands up.
(Int. Dursley’s Kitchen – Cont’d)
Aunt Petunia cuts a grapefruit into quarters and places them on four separate plates.
She places one on the table, in front of Uncle Vernon. He lowers his newspaper and stares at it.

Is this it?

Petunia places a plate in front of Dudley, then another before Harry.

You know the rules, Vernon darling. Dudley’s diet, and all.

Feh. They call this a diet? Rabbit food, if you ask me.

Well, I think our encouragement is really helping our little Diddykins. Look how slim he’s getting already!

Dudley’s backside is quite literally hanging over either end of his chair. He grabs a spoon and begrudgingly starts gobbling his grapefruit. From offscreen, the doorbell rings.

That’ll be the postman, I expect.

With a grunt, Uncle Vernon rises from his chair and walks out of the room. Harry absent-mindedly pokes at his grapefruit with his spoon. Dudley eyes it greedily.

Are you gonna eat that?

Harry gives Dudley a look, as if to say “Really?”

UNCLE VERNON (offscreen, angry)
BOY! Get in here!

Starting, Harry drops his spoon with a clatter.
(Int. Dursley Living Room – Cont’d)
Harry stands before Uncle Vernon, who looks livid. He brandishes an envelope in front of him, which is adorned with over three dozen stamps.

UNCLE VERNON (holding back rage)
This just arrived for you. The postman seemed to think it was funny, all those stamps and everything…

Vernon thrusts the envelope into Harry’s hands.

Well, open it!

Harry rips the envelope open and reads it quickly. His expression brightens as he moves down the page.

HARRY (excited)
It’s from Mrs. Weasley. She’s invited me to stay the rest of the summer at her house… Mr. Weasley’s got tickets to the Quidditch World Cup! They want me to come along!

Quidditch? What is this rubbish?

It’s a sport. A wizard sport, played on broom—

Uncle Vernon bursts into a flurry of angry shushing, glancing terrified at the window.

UNCLE VERNON (furious)
How many times do I have to tell you not to mention that…that unnaturalness under my roof? You stand there in the clothes that your aunt and I have put on your ungrateful back…

HARRY (aside)
Only after Dudley’s finished with them.

I will NOT be spoken to like that! Why, you should thank your lucky stars that we’ve still kept you after all these years, after the hell you’ve put us through! All sorts of funny goings-on, owls swooping in and out day and night…

Harry rolls his eyes at this speech, then gets an idea.

Okay, fine, I get it, I can’t go to the World Cup. Can I go back to my room, then? Only I’ve got a letter I want to send to Sirius. You know, my godfather…

Uncle Vernon’s face falls. His eye twitches slightly.

You’re…you’re writing to him, are you?

Yeah, you know, he hasn’t heard from me in a while, and I don’t want him to think anything’s wrong. Otherwise he might come barging in here, looking for me, and then who knows what he’d do?

Uncle Vernon gulps, rubbing the back of his head nervously. After a few seconds’ deliberation, he succumbs.

All right then, fine, you can go see this…this stupid World Cup thing. These Weasleys, though, they’re to pick you up, mind. I’ve got no time to be chauffeuring you all over the country. And y-you write your godfather and tell him…t-tell him everything’s all right.

Uncle Vernon exits back to the kitchen, mopping his forehead. Harry smiles and exits to the hallway. Dudley passes him.

HARRY (joyous)
That was an excellent breakfast, wasn’t it? I feel really full, don’t you?

Harry walks toward the stairs, a spring in his step, leaving Dudley looking confused.

(Establish: Dursley House – Day)
(Int: Dursley Living Room – Same)
It’s Friday afternoon. Harry glances uncertainly out the window, then looks at the clock. It’s 5:30. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley, all dressed up in their Sunday best, are seated on the couch. Vernon and Petunia are growing impatient; Dudley is clutching his backside and looking fretful.

UNCLE VERNON (agitated)
They’re late.

I know…um, maybe the traffic’s bad?

Or maybe these types just have no consideration for other people’s schedules!

Honestly. We might have had an engagement!

UNCLE VERNON (snorting)
Probably think they’re going to be invited to dinner if they show up late enough. Either that or they drive some tinpot old car that’s broken d—

Everyone jumps as a loud BANG comes from the fireplace, which is empty of any real firewood but contains a fake electric fire instead. Loud scuffling and muttering can be heard from behind the boards covering up the flue.
Comprehension dawns on Harry as he rushes over to the fireplace.

What the bloody hell is that?

HARRY (slightly nervous)
Um…I think it’s them.

From behind the boards, another loud BANG is heard, followed by Mr. Weasley’s muffled voice.

Ouch! Fred, no, go back! There’s been some kind of mistake. Tell George not to—

A third BANG, and another yelp of pain.

OW! George, no, there’s no room! Go back quickly and tell Ron before he –

One final BANG, and another voice is added to the mix – that of Ron Weasley. Harry looks back and forth between the fireplace and the fuming Dursleys.

What’s going on? Is something wrong?

Oh no, Ron, this is exactly where we wanted to end up.

GEORGE (as if his face is squashed)
Yeah, we’re having the time of our lives here…

Harry cups his hands around his mouth and yells into the fireplace.

Mr. Weasley! Mr. Weasley, can you hear me?

Harry? Harry, is that you?

Yeah, my aunt and uncle blocked off the fireplace! They didn’t know you were coming by Floo Powder. They’ve got an electric fire, you see…

ARTHUR (suddenly intrigued)
Ooh! Eclectric, you say? I’d love to see that…hmm, I think I know how to fix this. Stand back, Harry!

Harry leaps back from the fireplace. Uncle Vernon, however, strides right towards it.

Now just wait one ruddy –

With a loud BOOM, the fireplace explodes in a shower of splintered wood and soot.
The dust settles, and out step Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, and Ron. Mr. Weasley is holding his wand as he surveys the living room, now covered in dust.

There we go!… Er, sorry about the mess, I’ll tidy it all up before we leave…

The Dursleys are also covered in dust from head to foot, looking confused and infuriated. Uncle Vernon goes “pfft”, knocking a cloud of dust loose from his mustache.
Ron grabs Harry’s hand and pulls him into a bro hug.

Harry! How ya been?

Ron! Good to see you again, man!

All packed, Harry? Got your trunk?

Oh yeah, it’s upstairs in my room.

FRED/GEORGE (in unison)
We’ll get it!

With a quick glance at Dudley, Fred and George bound out of the living room. Arthur awkwardly puts his hands in his pockets and tries to make conversation with the stone-faced Dursleys. He notices the electric fire, now overturned on the floor.

Ah, this must be the fire Harry was talking about! Runs on eceltricity, you say? Ah yes, I see the plug now. I collect plugs, you know. And batteries! Always good to have a hobby, don’t you think? My wife calls it mad, but there you are.

Uncle Vernon’s jaw twitches dangerously.
Fred and George re-enter, carrying Harry’s trunk. Hedwig’s empty cage is perched on top of it.

Ready to go, Dad!

As George passes by Dudley, several small purple candies fall out of his pocket, landing right at Dudley’s feet. He eyes them longingly.

Ah, excellent! Well, we’ll be off then! Just need ourselves a real fire first…

Arthur points his wand at the fireplace.


A jet of fire shoots out of his wand and bursts to life in the fireplace, crackling merrily.
Arthur pulls out a bag of Floo Powder and chucks a handful into the flames, turning them green.

All right, go on ahead, boys, and I’ll just tidy up this little mess I made…plus, I’m sure Harry wants to say goodbye to his aunt and uncle!

Fred steps into the fire.
The Burrow!

He disappears with a whoosh.
Arthur turns to face Uncle Vernon as George steps into the fireplace behind him, dragging Harry’s trunk and carrying the cage under his arm.

Again, my sincerest apologies for the rubble! I had your house connected to the Floo Network, just for the day, you know – I’ve got a contact in the Floo Regulation Panel, he set everything up for me. But anyway…Harry, are you ready to go?


He turns to the Dursleys.

HARRY (awkwardly)
Um, bye, then…

The Dursleys do not respond. Dudley bends down out of frame to inspect one of the candies.
Ron disappears into the fire, and then Harry prepares to follow him – but he’s interrupted by a horrible GAGGING sound behind him. He whips around to see Dudley clutching his hands over his mouth, looking terrified. He opens his mouth – and his tongue flops out, having grown to nearly three feet in length.
Aunt Petunia SCREAMS. She grabs her son’s tongue and starts yanking on it, as if trying to pull it right out of Dudley’s head. Dudley wails in pain, flailing his arms wildly.
Uncle Vernon turns to Arthur, his face twisted with rage.

ARTHUR (nervous)
Not to worry! Not to worry, that’s just my sons Fred and George, they’re real pranksters, you know – but I think it’s just a simple Engorgement Charm! I can put it right!

Arthur pulls out his wand again and points it at Dudley. Uncle Vernon BELLOWS wordlessly and grabs a china figure off the nearest table, then hurls it at Arthur; it misses and shatters against the fireplace. Harry recoils in alarm.

HARRY (unsure what to do)
Uh, Mr. Weasley?

Just go on ahead, Harry! Don’t worry, I’ll sort it out!

Harry steps into the fire.

The Burrow!

He disappears in a flurry of green flames. Petunia continues to pull on Dudley’s tongue. Arthur ducks as Vernon hurls another figurine at him.

ARTHUR (indignant)
Now, really! I’m trying to help!

(Int. Floo Network – Cont’d)
Harry whips through the flames, faster and faster, until…
(Int. The Burrow Kitchen – Cont’d)
…He zooms out of the Weasley’s kitchen fireplace, landing on the floor in a sitting position. Fred and George help him to his feet.

Well? Did he eat it?

Harry brushes the soot from his hair.

Yeah, he did.

The kitchen rings with laughter. Standing around the table are Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and two characters we have not yet been introduced to – the oldest Weasley brothers, Bill and Charlie.

What was that, anyway?

Ton-Tongue Toffee! Fred and I invented it!

He holds up a candy and smirks.

Want one?

HARRY (chuckling)
I think I’ll pass, thanks.

Charlie and Bill step forward to shake Harry’s hand.

Great to have you here, Harry! I’m Charlie, and this is Bill. Ron’s told us all about you.

You psyched for the World Cup?

HARRY (beaming)

With a whoosh, Mr. Weasley emerges from the fireplace. He looks ruffled as he rounds on Fred and George.

Boys! That wasn’t funny at all! What on earth did you give that poor Muggle boy?

How long did his tongue get?

It was four feet by the time his parents let me shrink it—

Fred and George burst into laughter again.

…But that’s beside the point! That sort of behavior seriously undermines Muggle/wizard relations!

Oh come on, Dad! We didn’t give it to him because he’s a Muggle!

Yeah, we gave it to him ‘cause he’s a great bullying git, isn’t he, Harry?

Yeah, he is.

That doesn’t matter! Boys, you just wait until I tell your mother! She’s going to –

MOLLY (o.s.)
Tell me what?

Mrs. Weasley bustles into the kitchen, looking suspicious.
Arthur starts fumbling for words.

What’s all this shouting about, Arthur?

ARTHUR (hemming and hawing)
Um…uh, it’s n-nothing, Molly dear…the, uh, the twins…well, I’ve had words with them already, so, uh…

Hermione nudges Harry and Ron.

Shall we bring Harry’s things upstairs?

RON (quickly)
Good idea.

HARRY (quickly)

GINNY (quickly)
I’ll help.

All three of them leave the kitchen in a hurry.
(Int. Burrow Stairwell – Cont’d)
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all troop up the stairs. Harry and Ron carry Harry’s trunk.

Mum’s been on Fred and George’s case all summer long. They didn’t get nearly as many O.W.L.s as she’d hoped.

And then they had this great row, because Mum wants them to go into the Ministry after school like Dad and Percy, and all they want to do is open a joke shop.

Ah, that’d be brilliant!

Percy’s bedroom door opens, and he peeks out into the hall.

Oh, hello, Harry. Would you all mind keeping the noise down? I’m working on a special report for the Department of International Magical Cooperation in here and I can’t focus with you four thundering up and down the stairs.

RON (huffy)
We’re not thundering, we’re walking! Sorry to disturb the top secret workings of the Ministry of Magic!

Percy scoffs and shuts the door. The kids continue up the stairs.

So Percy’s enjoying his new job, then?

Enjoying it? I don’t reckon he’d come home if Dad didn’t make him. Just don’t get him on the subject of his boss, whatever you do. “According to Mr. Crouch…” “As I was saying to Mr. Crouch…” “Mr. Crouch is of the opinion…” Blimey, they’ll be announcing their engagement any day now.

(Int. Ron’s Room – Cont’d)
Harry flops down on the bed. Ron’s pet owl, Pigwidgeon, hoots excitedly in its cage, twittering around and totally unable to stand still.

Shut up. Shut up, Pig! Here, have an owl treat…

HARRY (confused)

GINNY (pompous)
He’s being stupid. Its proper name is Pigwidgeon.

Ron tips an owl treat from a box into Pig’s cage.

RON (sarcastic)
Yeah, and that’s not a stupid name at all.

Ron chucks the box onto a nearby bookshelf.

Ginny named him. She reckons it’s cute, and now he won’t answer to anything else, the feathery little twit.

Have you had a good summer, Harry?

Yeah, thanks again for those food parcels you guys sent me. I don’t think I’d have survived two months on just grapefruit.

And have you heard from Sir—

Hermione quickly gives Ron a “cut-it-out” motion, gesturing to Ginny, who is currently occupied with Pig. Harry nods, then mouths “Later.”

(Ext. The Burrow Garden – Evening)
Crookshanks chases a garden gnome across the lawn as everyone else eats dinner at two long tables situated aside the bushes. Everyone is in conversation.

…It’s been extremely busy in our department, you know, what with all the preparations for the World Cup. And we’re just not getting the support we need from Ludo Bagman in the Department of Magical Games and Sports…

Ah, I like Ludo. He’s the one who got us the tickets for the Cup! I did him a favor, you know – his brother got into a spot of trouble with a lawnmower with unusual powers, I smoothed the whole thing over…

Oh, Ludo’s likeable enough, but how he ever got to be head of department! You realize that witch from his department, Bertha Jorkins, has been missing for a month now and he still hasn’t done anything about searching for her?

Further down the table, Mrs. Weasley is talking to Bill about his earring.

…With a great horrible fang on it and everything! Really, Bill, what do they say at Gringotts?

Mum, no one at the bank gives a damn how I dress as long as I bring in plenty of treasure.

And your hair’s getting silly, dear, I do wish you’d let me give it a trim…

Aw, I like it, Mum! Besides, it’s not nearly as long as Professor Dumbledore’s…

Further still down the table, Charlie and the twins are in discussion.

CHARLIE (through a mouthful of food)
Ah, it’s got to be Ireland. They flattened Peru in the semifinals.

Bulgaria’s got Viktor Krum, though.

Krum’s one decent player. Ireland’s got seven. I just wish England could have made it, though. That last match of theirs against Transylvania was a travesty. 390 to 10…just unbelievable…

At the very end of the table, Harry, Ron, and Hermione are all seated together, speaking in hushed voices.

So…have you heard from Sirius lately?

Yeah, he sounds all right. In fact, I wrote to him yesterday morning, right after I got your mum’s invitation. He might write back while I’m here.

Aw, that’s good. Keeping him up to date with everything, I expect?

Harry scratches his scar and looks up at the sky.

HARRY (lost in thought)
Yeah…yeah, all the important stuff…

(Establish: The Burrow – Night)
(Int. Ron’s Room – Same)
Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George are all sound asleep. The alarm clock next to Harry tells us it’s 4:29 in the morning. It ticks to 4:30 and starts ringing, snapping Harry awake with a YELP.

(Ext. Stoatshead Hill – Early Morning)
Mr. Weasley, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George all tramp up the hill. Sunlight is just barely visible over the horizon.

So how are we getting to the World Cup?

Well, Side-Along Apparition is a little too risky with big numbers like ours. So we’ll be using a Portkey. It’s an object that’s been enchanted to transport whoever’s holding it from one spot to another at a specific time. The one we’re taking should be around here somewhere…

Everyone starts looking around. A voice calls from the top of the hill.

AMOS (o.s.)
Over here, Arthur! We’ve got it!

Atop the hill, two wizards are standing – Amos Diggory and his teenage son, Cedric. Amos is holding an old boot.
Arthur and the kids rush to greet him.

Amos! There you are! Kids, this is Amos Diggory. He works with me at the Ministry. And I think you know his son, Cedric?

Hi, how’s it going?

Fred and George give Cedric a nasty look.
Amos notices Harry among the group.

AMOS (stunned)
Merlin’s beard! Harry Potter?

HARRY (slightly embarrassed)
Um, yeah.

Ah, Ced’s talked about you! Told us all about how he beat you in Quidditch last year, didn’t you, Ced?

Amos puts his arm around Cedric and yanks him close. Cedric is clearly not enjoying being put on the spot like this.

AMOS (jovial)
I told him “Ced, that’ll be one to tell your grandkids, it will! You beat the famous Harry Potter!”

CEDRIC (annoyed)
Harry fell off his broom, Dad. I told you, it was an accident.

AMOS (chuckling)
Yes, but you didn’t fall off, did you? One falls off, one stays on; doesn’t take a genius to tell who the better player is!

Harry rolls his eyes. Fred and George scowl menacingly at Amos.
Everyone kneels down and puts a hand on the Portkey.

Everybody got a good grip? Should be any second now…

He checks his watch. His countdown is intercut with quick shots of the people surrounding the boot.


In a flash of blue light, the boot and the entire party vanish.

(Ext. Moor – Cont’d)
Another flash of blue light, and everyone reappears. They’re in a misty moor. Arthur, Amos, and Cedric steady themselves; everyone else lands in a heap.

There, see? Not so bad, is it?

(Ext. Roberts Cottage – Cont’d)
Arthur and the kids tramp up to the cottage where Mr. Roberts is stationed. Mr. Roberts stands in the doorway, smiling.

Morning! Would you be Mr. Roberts?

Aye, I would! Your name?

Weasley, two tents, booked a couple of days ago.

Mr. Roberts checks his clipboard.

Aye, you’ve got a space up by the wood there. You’ll be paying now, then?

ARTHUR (slightly unsure)
Oh yes, of course…

Arthur takes a wad of Muggle money out of his pocket and turns to Harry and Hermione.

You’ll need to help me, kids. We got a little short-handed this year, had to bring on Muggle security – he thinks we’re just regular campers, though. This is a ten, isn’t it?

A twenty. See, it’s got the number there.

And this one’s a five here…

Ah yes, of course. I don’t know, these little bits of paper…

Mr. Roberts catches part of their conversation.

ROBERTS (politely)
Are you folks foreign?

Foreign? No…

Well, it’s just you’re not the first ones I’ve seen to have trouble with paying. These two blokes tried to pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps not ten minutes ago.

You, uh, y’don’t say…

Arthur hands Mr. Roberts the money.

Never been this crowded before, neither. ‘S like, I dunno, some sort of rally! All these folks seem to know each other. There’s some real weirdos among ‘em, too…

With a CRACK, a Ministry wizard Apparates directly next to Mr. Roberts and points his wand at him.


Mr. Roberts’ expression slackens, and his eyes unfocus. The Ministry wizard stows his wand.

Poor bloke. Needs a Memory Charm ten times a day.

ROBERTS (dazed)
Merry Christmas…

Arthur and the kids blink uncomfortably at the woozy-looking Mr. Roberts.

(Establish: World Cup Campsite – Day)
(Ext. World Cup Campsite – Same)
Tents line the hillside for acres. Witches and wizards are out and about everywhere, greeting one another and rushing to and fro.
Arthur sits outside his tent, with Harry, Ron, and Hermione seated next to him. All of them are roasting sausages over a fire.
Bill, Charlie, and Percy step out of the woods behind them.

PERCY (proudly)
‘Morning, Dad! Just Apparated!

RON (aside to Harry)
Percy’s been a right braggart ever since he passed his Apparition test last month. Been Apparating down the stairs into the kitchen every morning, just because he can.

The elder Weasley boys take a seat beside the kids. Everyone turns as they hear a voice.

BAGMAN (o.s.)
Ahoy there!

Ludo Bagman comes striding towards the Weasley tent, decked out in his Wimbourne Wasps uniform.

BAGMAN (jovial)
Arthur, ol’ man! What a day, eh? Couldn’t have asked for more perfect weather, and hardly a hiccup in the arrangements! Not much for me to do!

Bagman puts his hands in his pockets and bounces merrily on the balls of his feet as three Ministry wizards rush by behind him, responding to an explosion of magical fireworks in the distance.
Arthur stands up and shakes Bagman’s hand.

Ludo, old boy! Good to see you! Everyone, this is Ludo Bagman! It’s thanks to him that we’ve got such good tickets!

Bagman pulls out a large money sack and jingles it.

Fancy a flutter on the match, eh, Arthur? I’ve already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will score first – I offered him nice odds, too!

Oh, let’s see…hmm…a Galleon on Ireland to win?

Arthur takes a gold Galleon out of his pocket and places it in Bagman’s hand. Bagman looks a little disappointed.

A Galleon? Oh, very well then…any other takers?

Harry looks around confused at Ron and Hermione.

ARTHUR (concerned)
They’re a bit young to be gambling, don’t you think, Ludo? I mean –

Fred and George burst out of the tent, holding their own money bag.

We’ll bet 37 Galleons, 15 Sickles, and three Knuts that Ireland wins, but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch!

George pulls a wand out of his pocket.

And we’ll throw in one of our trick wands.

Arthur looks shocked as Bagman takes the wand.

Boys, that’s all your savings! I really don’t think –

With a loud SQUAWK, the wand turns into a rubber chicken. Bagman bursts out laughing.

BAGMAN (overjoyed)
Excellent! You’ve got a bet, boyos! I’ll throw in five Galleons for the funny wand!

Fred and George toss their money bag to Bagman, smirking. Percy looks scandalized.
Bagman takes a seat next to Arthur.

ARTHUR (awkward)
So…um, Ludo, any news about Bertha Jorkins?

Not a dicky bird. But she’ll turn up, the poor dear. Lost, you take my word for it. She’ll stumble back into the office sometime in October, thinking it’s still July…

A wizard suddenly Apparates before the tent with a loud CRACK. It’s Barty Crouch, dressed in a fine suit and looking very busy.

Ah, good morning, Arthur.

Percy immediately stands up, surreptitiously grooming himself.

PERCY (sycophantically)
Mr. Crouch! Pleasure to see you, sir! Would you care for a cup of tea?

Hm? Oh, yes, certainly! Thank you, Weatherby.

Fred and George both snort with laughter. Percy swoops into the tent, ignoring them.
Crouch turns to Bagman.

Ludo, I’ve been looking all over for you. The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box.

Oh, is that what they’re after? I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent…

Been keeping busy, Barty?

Fairly. Organizing Portkeys across five continents is no lean feat, you know. Plus, with one thing and another…

Oh, you mean the big event, eh? Can’t wait to see that!

Bagman turns to the kids.

You kids just wait ‘til this fall! The Ministry’s got a real treat in store for you all…

CROUCH (warning)
I thought we agreed, Ludo, not to release the details until the prearranged time?

BAGMAN (jovial)
Oh, details, details! They’ve signed, haven’t they? They’ve agreed, haven’t they? Besides, these kids’ll find out soon enough anyway – I mean, it’s happening at Hogwarts!

Harry, Ron, and Hermione suddenly look interested.

What’s happening at Hogwarts?

CROUCH (swiftly)
Ludo, we really must go and meet the Bulgarians. See you all in the Top Box!

Crouch Disapparates; Ludo shrugs, smiling, and Disapparates too.
Percy emerges from the tent, holding a cup of tea.

PERCY (confused)
Mr. Crouch?

I’ll take that, Weatherby.

Fred takes the teacup from Percy and sips it, making a big deal of looking stuffy and proper as he does. George snickers openly as Percy scowls at the two of them.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all turn to Arthur.

Dad, what was Mr. Bagman talking about? What’s going on at Hogwarts this fall?

Oh, you’ll find out soon enough, I expect!

Ron slumps back and crosses his arms.

RON (cross)
Ugh, I hate when parents say that…

(Establish: Quidditch World Cup Stadium – Night)
(Int. Quidditch World Cup Stadium – Same)
The match is minutes away from starting, and the stadium is full to the brim with a hundred thousand restless Quidditch fans. Irish and Bulgarian flags wave everywhere.
In the Top Box, Arthur and the older Weasley boys scoot into their seats as Ginny, Ron, and Hermione settle in to their own seats in the front row. Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge is in conversation with the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, trying to introduce him to Harry.

You know…Harry Potter? The boy who defeated You-Know-Who? …You do know who he is, don’t you?

The Bulgarian Minister looks quizzically at Harry.
Harry sighs exasperatedly and brushes aside his bangs, revealing the lightning bolt scar on his forehead.
The Bulgarian Minister points and starts gabbling excitedly in his native tongue. Fudge slumps his shoulders in a resigned sort of way.

Knew we’d get there in the end.

Harry sits down as Ron holds up a pair of golden Omnioculars and reads the inscription on the side.

“Omnioculars: slow-motion replay and play-by-play breakdown.” Wicked…

He raises the specs to his face and looks across the stadium, twiddling the knobs on the sides.

Ha! Check this out, I can make that bloke down there pick his nose over and over again!

Hermione rolls her eyes exasperatedly as Harry laughs.
Harry then notices a soft whimpering coming from the seat next to him. He looks to his left and sees a house-elf, clad in a tea towel and covering its face in fright. The seat immediately behind the elf is empty.

HARRY (stunned)
Dobby? Dobby! Is that you?

The elf looks up – it’s not Dobby. It’s not even a male elf. She has a big red nose and tufts of longish brown hair at the back of her head.

WINKY (quavering)
Did…did Sir just call me Dobby?

HARRY (hastily)
Oh! Um, sorry, I thought you were someone I know…

But I knows Dobby too, Sir! My name is Winky, sir, and you surely must be Harry Potter! Dobby speaks of you all the time, sir.

HARRY (flattered)
Yeah? How is Dobby these days, anyway? How’s freedom treating him?

Winky shakes her head quickly, her batlike ears flapping.

Ah, sir, meaning no disrespect, but I is not thinking you did Dobby any favors, sir, when you is setting him free. He is wanting paying for his work now, sir!

Well, what’s so bad about that? Why shouldn’t he be paid if he wants to be?

Winky actually gasps at this.

WINKY (horrified)
House-elves is not paid, sir! House-elves does what they is told without asking questions! I…I is not liking heights at all…

Winky looks over the edge of the Top Box and gulps.

WINKY (cont’d)
…But my master sends me to the Top Box to save him a seat, and I comes, sir. Winky is a good house-elf…

She shudders and hides her face again. Ron and Hermione take notice. Hermione looks concerned.

So that’s a house-elf, eh? Weird little things, aren’t they?

Trust me, Dobby was weirder.

Behind the kids, Cornelius Fudge has just welcomed the Malfoy family into the Top Box – Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco. All three of them exude an air of importance and superiority. Arthur seems thoroughly put out.

Arthur, I daresay you know Lucius, am I right? He and his wife Narcissa and their son Draco are here tonight as my guests. They’ve just made a very generous contribution to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries!

ARTHUR (strained)
How…how nice.

The Malfoys take their seats.

LUCIUS (snidely, aside to Arthur)
Good Lord, Arthur, what did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn’t have fetched this much…

Arthur seethes silently.
Draco folds his program into a paper airplane and throws it at the front row. It hits Harry in the back of the head. He turns and scowls at Malfoy, who smirks in a victorious sort of way.
Ludo Bagman bounds into the Top Box, all smiles and full of energy.

Everybody ready?

Ready when you are, Ludo!

Bagman places his wand to his own throat.


When he speaks again, his voice is magically amplified across the entire stadium like a loudspeaker.

Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the final of the 1994 Quidditch World Cup!

The audience erupts in cheers. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all shout their support too.

Let us begin with a brief performance! Presenting the Bulgarian National Team mascots!

Down on the field, a curtain rises above an entranceway, and about a dozen veela dance onto the pitch.
Up in the Top Box, Arthur leans forward in his seat eagerly.

Oho! Veela!

HARRY (confused)

Harry raises his own Omnioculars to his eyes to get a better look. The veela dance and twirl seductively, their beautiful faces shining as their long platinum-blonde hair swirls behind them. They seem to be emitting a soft white glow.
Harry lowers his Omnioculars. He is transfixed, his mouth hanging open. Ron is similarly afflicted. Hermione shakes her head in disbelief.


And now, kindly put your wands in the air for the Irish National Team mascots!

The veela halt their dance as a huge green comet soars over the pitch, sailing right through the center goal post on the Irish side.
A close-up reveals the comet is comprised of thousands of tiny leprechauns, each holding a little green lantern.
As they soar over the crowd, gold coins rain down, and the spectators excitedly grab them. Ron holds his hands out in a cupped shape and tries to catch as many coins as he can.

RON (thrilled)

And now…here they are, the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! Dimitrov! Ivanova! Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! KRUM!!

The players soar into the stadium as Bagman recites each of their names. When Viktor Krum arrives, he receives a standing ovation. Ron leaps out of his seat and points.

RON (excited)
It’s him! It’s him!


Krum, Hermione! Viktor Krum! Probably the greatest Seeker in the last fifty years! He’s incredible!

Hermione looks at the scoreboard, which is flashing a photo of the surly-looking Krum with his Quidditch statistics.

He looks really grumpy…

RON (disbelieving)
“Really grumpy”? Who gives a rat’s fart what he looks like, he’s a genius with a broomstick!

And now, please greet the Irish National Quidditch Team! Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! LYNCH!!

The Irish players swoop into the stands just as the Bulgarians did. Seeker Aiden Lynch shoots an intimidating glare at Viktor Krum, who stares back, stone-faced.
Down below, Egyptian referee Hassan Mostafa mounts his broom and kicks open the crate containing the four balls. The two Bludgers and the Golden Snitch go soaring out into the open as Mostafa levitates the Quaffle into the air and gives a sharp blast on his whistle. The game begins.

BAGMAN (thrilled)
And they’re off! Mullet takes immediate possession of the Quaffle, passes to Troy, Troy passes to Moran, intercepted by Dimitrov! Over to Ivanova – no, back to Mullet! Troy again, Levski intercepts! Moran intercepts!

The Quidditch players move so quickly, Bagman can just barely keep up. Quigley belts a Bludger straight at Ivanova, who ducks out of the way just in time; it sails towards Vulchanov, who whacks it back towards Mullet. Krum and Lynch circle the action, eyeing the field for the Snitch.
In the Top Box, Harry, Hermione, and all the Weasleys are rapt with attention, their heads swooshing back and forth to keep up with the action. Winky is still cowering with her hands over her face.

BAGMAN (cont’d)
Volkov sends a Bludger towards Moran, Moran dodges, drops the Quaffle! Intercepted by Levski! Passed to Dimitrov – intercepted again by Mullet! Passes to Troy, back to Mullet, back to Troy –

Moran hurls the Quaffle at the Bulgarian goalposts. Zograf dives to block it, but misses by inches. The Quaffle soars through the center goal with a loud CLANG.
The crowd erupts in cheers again.

TROY SCORES!! Ten-zero to Ireland!

The leprechauns soar into the air and loop-de-loop across the night sky. Down below, the veela cross their arms and pout.
Moran grabs the Quaffle and swoops up, over, and around the Bulgarian players to score another goal. CLANG. The scoreboard reads IRELAND 20 – BULGARIA 0.
Troy, Mullet, and Moran form the Hawkshead Attacking Formation and fly straight through the Bulgarian Beaters. Mullet, out in front and holding the Quaffle, puts it through the hoop. CLANG. The scoreboard reads IRELAND 30 – BULGARIA 0.
Ivanova manages to swoop in and intercept the Quaffle as Troy passes it to Moran. Both Bludgers fly into frame, forcing Moran and Mullet to back off as Ivanova heads for the Irish goalposts. Ivanova hurls the ball sideways, and it brushes past Ryan’s outstretched fingers for a goal. CLANG. The scoreboard reads IRELAND 30 – BULGARIA 10.

The Quaffle changes hands several more times.

Dimitrov passes to Levski, back to Dimitrov, over to Ivanova – OH! I say!

Heads turn all across the stadium as Krum and Lynch both go into a nosedive from two hundred feet up. Both players are straining against their brooms. Krum is slightly ahead of Lynch.
In the Top Box, Harry and Ron are on the edge of their seats. Hermione squints at the field.

Wait…where’s the Snitch?

At the last second, Krum pulls out of the dive. Lynch hits the ground with a loud, sickening THUMP. The entire crowd GROANS in unison.
Hermione covers her mouth with her hands. Ron facepalms in exasperation.

RON (irritated)
The great prat! Krum was feinting!

Harry peers through his Omnioculars and twiddles the slo-mo replay knob on the side.
In a POV shot through the Omnioculars, we see Lynch hit the ground in slow motion as Krum veers off. A description of the play comes up at the bottom of the lens: WRONSKI DEFENSIVE FEINT – DANGEROUS SEEKER DIVERSION.
Ginny looks on in concern. Charlie puts a hand on her shoulder.

He’ll be okay, he only got ploughed! Which is what Krum was after, of course…

(Establish: Quidditch World Cup – Late Night)
(Int. Quidditch World Cup – Same)
The game is getting faster and more furious. Players crisscross in front of the scoreboard, which now reads IRELAND 140 – BULGARIA 10.
Moran puts another goal through the Bulgarian hoops with a CLANG and the score reads IRELAND 150 – BULGARIA 10.
Mullet takes control of the Quaffle and shoots for the goalposts, but Zograf flies out to meet her and elbows her right in the face just as she’s preparing to throw. She drops the Quaffle, reeling in pain. Hassan Mostafa blows a sharp blast on his whistle.

Foul! Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing! Penalty shot for Ireland!

The Ireland players surround Mullet as she hurls the Quaffle at the goalposts. Zograf misses by a mile. CLANG. The score is now IRELAND 160 – BULGARIA 10.
The leprechauns shoot into the air again and rearrange themselves to form the words HA HA HA! Down below, the veela seethe angrily.
Play resumes. Vulchanov and Volkov simultaneously belt the Bludgers viciously towards the Irish Chasers; Mullet dodges nimbly, and Troy actually swings around 360 degrees on his broom to avoid it.
Moran catches the Quaffle and heads for the Bulgarian goalpost. Dimitrov braces himself and flies straight into Moran, nearly knocking her off her broom.
The audience jeers.

Ooh, another foul! Dimitrov skins Moran, deliberately flying to collide there! Another penalty shot for Ireland, if I’m not mistaken!

Mostafa gives another short burst on his whistle. Moran takes the penalty shot and scores easily. CLANG. The score reads IRELAND 170 – BULGARIA 10.
The Irish supporters in the crowd erupt in cheers. The leprechauns zoom into the air and form a giant hand, which then reshapes itself into a very rude hand gesture that’s obscured by the top of the screen. At this, the infuriated veela leap to their feet and begin to transform, their beautiful faces mutating into ugly bird’s heads, and wings sprouting from their backs. They hurl a barrage of fireballs at the leprechauns, who scatter.
In the Top Box, everyone watches the fight between the mascots with astonishment.

And that, my boys, is why you should never go for looks alone.

The Bludgers sail wildly around the pitch as play resumes. Now the game is doubly difficult, as the players are dodging the veela’s fireballs too.
With rage in his eyes, Volkov whacks a Bludger straight at Troy. Quigley swoops in just in time and pelts it back in the Bulgarians’ direction. It hits Krum square in the face with a stomach-churning CRUNCH.
The entire audience GROANS again. Krum’s nose is clearly broken, and his face is covered in blood.
In the Top Box, Ron grips the guardrail and leans forward.

Time out! Time out! Ah, come on, Krum can’t play like that, look at him!

Harry grabs Ron’s arm in surprise and points at the sky.

HARRY (breathless)
Look at Lynch!

Nearly three hundred feet above the ground, Lynch goes into a dive, his hand outstretched. Glittering just a few feet in front of him is the Golden Snitch.
Lynch bobs and weaves through the melee of players, Bludgers, and fireballs. Suddenly, he looks up to see that Krum is hot on his tail, flecks of blood flying from his broken nose. Krum gains ground on Lynch until they’re both neck-and-neck, in a 90-degree dive heading straight for the ground.
Mere feet above the pitch, the Snitch makes an unexpected right turn. Krum follows it with amazing agility, but Lynch just isn’t fast enough and hits the ground with another loud THUMP. He woozily hoists himself up, then SCREAMS as he’s trampled by a stampede of vicious veela.
Krum’s hand is mere inches away from the Snitch, getting closer by the second. Finally, he leaps off his broom and tumbles across the pitch, slamming into the base of the third Bulgarian goalpost. He stands up, shakes his bloody head, and hoists his fist into the air, the Golden Snitch fluttering futilely against his fingers.
With three loud CLANGS, the scoreboard flashes FINAL: IRELAND 170 – BULGARIA 160.
The crowd explodes in cacophonous cheers. Above the stadium, green fireworks burst in the night sky.
In the Top Box, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all cheer at the top of their voices, waving their Irish flags.

IRELAND WINS!!! Viktor Krum gets the Snitch, but Ireland wins!

Bagman’s eyes shift uneasily.

BAGMAN (slightly nervous)
Good Lord, I…uh, I don’t think any of us expected that!

Bagman turns to face Fred and George, who are standing behind him with their arms crossed, each wearing smug smiles on their faces.

(Ext. Path to the Stadium – Late Night)
The path is illuminated with green lanterns. Witches and wizards are all heading back to the campsite, engaged in excited conversation about the game. Several leprechauns fly overhead every so often.
The Weasley party is gathered together, with Arthur, Fred, and George leading the way. George is carrying a large sack of gold.

What the bloody hell did Krum catch the Snitch for? Ireland was a hundred and sixty points up!

Knew they were never gonna catch up, I s’pose. Probably just wanted to end the game on his terms, not theirs.

Boys, don’t go telling your mother you’ve been gambling!

Oh, don’t worry about that, Dad.

We’ve got big plans for this money. We don’t want it getting confiscated.

(Establish: Weasley Tent – Late Night)
(Int. Weasley Tent – Same)
The inside of the Weasleys’ tent is much larger than the outside would suggest. Harry and Ron are fast asleep in bunk bed-style cots. Outside, faint shouts can be heard. The light suddenly goes on, and Arthur rushes in, shaking the boys awake.

ARTHUR (apprehensive)
Get up! Come on, boys, get up! It’s urgent!

The boys stir sleepily.

RON (thickly)

HARRY (bleary)
It can’t be morning…

No time to explain, Harry! Just grab a jacket and get outside!

(Ext. Weasley Tent – Cont’d)
Arthur, Harry, Ron, Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, and Percy rush outside, jackets and coats hastily thrown on over their nightclothes. The tents around them are illuminated by firelight. Witches and wizards run past, screaming. The boys spot something and stop dead in their tracks, horrified.
A group of about a dozen wizards is moving together along the path, setting tents on fire and blasting things out of their way with their wands. All of them are clad in black robes with hoods covering their faces. Above them, fifteen feet in the air, are four people, suspended there like marionettes.
Arthur scowls.

ARTHUR (disgusted)
Death Eaters…

Hermione and Ginny burst out of their tent.

GINNY (shocked)
Oh my God! What’s going on?

Hermione squints at the sight before her.
A closeup of the people in midair reveals that one of them is Mr. Roberts, the Muggle who checked the Weasleys’ campsite. The other three people are his wife and children. The Death Eaters fling them around helplessly in the air.

HERMIONE (stunned)
It’s Mr. Roberts!

Ugh, that’s sick! Someone’s gotta stop them!

Arthur draws his wand.

Bill, Charlie, Percy – come with me! The rest of you, get into the woods and stick together! We’ll come get you later!

Arthur and his oldest sons run off to assist the Ministry officials trying to hold back the Death Eaters. The kids turn and run.
(Ext. Woods – Cont’d)
Fred, George, and Ginny lead the way, weaving through trees. Harry, Ron, and Hermione follow. Suddenly, Ron stumbles and falls to the ground. Hermione and Harry stop and turn around.

Ron! What happened?

RON (in pain)
I’m okay…just tripped over a tree root…

DRACO (o.s.)
Well, with feet that size, it’s hard not to.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione turn to see Draco Malfoy leaning next to a nearby tree, a look of grim satisfaction on his face.
Ron gets to his feet, brushing himself off. He looks livid.

RON (seething)
**** off, Malfoy.

DRACO (taunting)
Language, Weasley! Better hurry along, you three. You don’t want her spotted, do you?

HERMIONE (defiant)
And what’s that supposed to mean?

They’re after Muggles, Granger. You wanna be dangling around in midair like a rag doll? I could use the laugh…

HARRY (furious)
Hermione’s a witch!

Suit yourself, Potter, but if you think they can’t spot a Mudblood when they see one…

RON (livid)
You watch your mouth, you smarmy son of a –

Ron tries to lunge at Draco, but Harry and Hermione hold him back.

Where’s your parents, Malfoy? Out there with that masked lot, are they?

Draco smirks unpleasantly.

DRACO (oily)
Well…if they were, I wouldn’t be likely to tell you, now would I, Potter?

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all glower at Draco, their faces fixed with utter contempt.
(Ext. Woods – Cont’d)
The Trio pushes their way through the trees. It’s darker here, and the screams and bangs of the campsite have grown fainter.

Where did the others get to?

Search me… blimey, I can’t see a thing in here…

Me neither.

She draws her wand.


Light shines from the tip of her wand. Ron draws his own wand.

Good idea. Lumos!

And his wand lights too. Harry fumbles around, feeling his pockets, growing more nervous by the second.

HARRY (worried)
Oh no. Oh no, no, no… I don’t believe this! I lost my wand!

RON (shocked)
You’re kidding!

Did you have it on you when you left the tent?

I could have sworn I did! I don’t even remember taking it out of my pocket! Maybe it fell out while we were running…

They all stop dead as they hear rustling in the brush behind them. Ron and Hermione raise their still-lit wands.

Who’s there?

Winky bursts out of the brush, struggling to run as if someone were holding her back.

WINKY (frightened)
There is bad wizards about! People high up in the air! Winky is getting out of the way!

She disappears into the trees again. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stare after her.

Why can’t she run properly?

Bet she didn’t ask permission to hide. I remember Dobby was always forced to punish himself whenever he disobeyed the Malfoys…

HERMIONE (disgusted)
You know, house-elves get a very raw deal, don’t they? I mean, it’s slavery, that’s what it is! Why doesn’t anyone do something about it?

Well, the elves are happy, aren’t they? They like working, they like being bossed around…

HERMIONE (short)
Ugh! It’s people like you, Ron, who prop up rotten and unjust systems, just because they’re too lazy to –

Harry SHUSHES them suddenly. More rustling can be heard coming from the area where Winky disappeared to. Harry carefully steps forward.

HARRY (apprehensive)
Hello? Is someone there?

There is no answer. The rustling stops.
Harry turns to look at the others. Suddenly, they all jump as a booming voice cuts through the stillness.

VOICE (o.s.)

A loud BANG issues from beyond the trees, and something green and glittering sails into the air, hanging above the treetops like a monstrous grotesque firework. It’s the image of a skull, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue.
More SCREAMS are heard in the distance. Harry and Ron stand transfixed, but Hermione tugs violently on their arms.

HERMIONE (scared)
Harry! Ron! Come on, move!

What? What’s the matter!

It’s the Dark Mark, Harry! That’s You-Know-Who’s symbol!

HARRY (stunned)

Come ON!!

She yanks the boys away. They don’t get three steps before they hear the familiar CRACKS of at least a dozen Apparating wizards all around them. Ron GASPS.

Get down!

Ron pushes Harry and Hermione to the ground – and just in time.


A barrage of Stunning spells flies over the three kids and into the trees behind them.
The wizards and witches of the Ministry walk swiftly into the clearing. At the head of them is Arthur Weasley.

Stop! STOP! That’s my son!

Arthur helps the kids to their feet.

Are you three all right?

Yeah, we’re fi—

Barty Crouch lunges forward and puts his wand to Harry’s chest. He is livid.

CROUCH (violently)
Which of you did it? Which one of you conjured the Dark Mark?

Wh-what? Us? We didn’t do that!

CROUCH (furious)
Don’t lie! You’ve been caught at the scene of the crime!

Barty, don’t be ridiculous! They’re just kids! (then) Where did the Mark come from?

Over there, in the trees. We heard someone shout an incantation…

Arthur runs off in that direction. Crouch is not convinced.

Oho! Said an incantation, did they? You seem awfully well informed about how this Mark is summoned, missy!

ARTHUR (o.s.)
There’s someone over here!

Amos Diggory steps out from the group.

Who is it, Arthur?

ARTHUR (o.s.)
It’s…it’s… oh, dear…

Arthur emerges from the trees, carrying an unconscious Winky. A wand is clutched in her hand.
The color drains from Crouch’s face. He looks gobsmacked.

CROUCH (lost for words)
WINKY?! This… I… this can’t…

Barty…isn’t that your elf?

HERMIONE (surprised)
Your elf?!

Arthur lays Winky at Crouch’s feet. Amos bends down and picks up the wand in her hand.

Look at this! Clause three of the Code of Wand Use broken, right there – “No non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand”.

Now hold on, Amos. Let’s hear what she’s got to say for herself.

Arthur raises his wand, but before he can do anything, Crouch swoops down upon Winky with his own wand and angrily points it at her.


Winky stirs and opens her eyes. When she sees the Dark Mark in the sky, she sits up straight and gasps.

Elf! You’ve been found beneath the Dark Mark with a wand in your hand! Would you care to explain yourself?

WINKY (frightened)
I – I is not doing it, sir! I is not knowing how!

Amos brandishes the wand Winky was holding in front of her face. As he does, Harry notices something.

You mean to say that you didn’t use this wand? That you just happened to –

Hey – that’s mine!

Amos stares at Harry incredulously.

Excuse me?

That’s my wand! I dropped it!

AMOS (wildly)
You dropped it? YOU dropped it? Oho, is this a confession? You threw it aside after you conjured the Mark?

Arthur slaps Amos in the back of the head.

ARTHUR (irritated)
Amos, think who you’re talking to! Is Harry Potter likely to conjure the Dark Mark?

Amos blushes slightly.

AMOS (embarrassed)
Er… no, of course not. Sorry… got carried away…

And I didn’t drop it there, anyway. I lost it before we got into the woods.

Amos rounds on Winky again. Winky is in the fetal position, rocking back and forth, gasping heavily.

So you found this wand on the ground, eh, elf? And you thought you’d have a little fun, did you?

WINKY (hysterical)
I is not doing magic with it, sir! I is…I is just picking it up, sir! Please, I is not knowing how to do magic with wands, sir!

Hermione steps forward.

HERMIONE (indignant)
It wasn’t her! It couldn’t have been!

Well, there’s one way to find out…

Amos places the tip of his own wand to the tip of Harry’s wand.

Priori Incantatem!

A dark gray echo of the Dark Mark bursts out of Harry’s wand, albeit much smaller than the one in the sky. Amos throws Harry’s wand back to him and glares at Winky, trembling on the ground.

Seems you’ve been caught red-handed, elf! Caught with the guilty wand in your hand!

WINKY (terrified)
No! No, no, no, sir! I is not doing it! I is a good house elf, I isn’t using wands…

Amos, think about it. Precious few wizards know how to cast that spell! Where could she have learned it?

CROUCH (barely containing his rage)
Perhaps Mr. Diggory is suggesting that I routinely teach my servants how to perform magic associated with those who supported He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?

Amos gulps.

AMOS (backpedaling)
Uh, n-no, Barty, nothing like that…I-I never suggested that you had anything to do with –

CROUCH (furious)
You accuse my elf, you accuse ME, Amos!

It’s likely that someone just found Harry’s wand, used it to cast the Mark, then ditched it and Disapparated. Winky here probably just wound up in the wrong place at the wrong time, don’t you think?

Well… I suppose it’s possible… though I’d still like to take her in for questioning.

That won’t be necessary, Amos. Rest assured, I will deal with her.

Crouch glares down at Winky, seething with rage. Winky starts to cry.

WINKY (through sobs)
M-Master…M-Master, p-p-please…

CROUCH (growing rage)
Winky has behaved tonight in a way I would not have believed possible. I told her to remain in the tent. I told her to stay there while I went to sort out the trouble. And I find that she deliberately disobeyed me!

Crouch rolls up the sleeve of his suit jacket.


He whips his glove off his hand.


He hurls the glove into Winky’s lap.


Winky looks at the glove, distraught, then throws herself at Crouch’s feet, bawling.

WINKY (hysterical)

Winky continues to sob as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Arthur look on uncomfortably. Hermione in particular looks equally disgusted and pitiful.
(Int. Weasley Tent – Late Night)
Harry, Ron, and Hermione are seated around the circular table in the kitchen. Arthur pours them each a mug of hot chocolate. Fred, George, Ginny, Bill, Charlie, and Percy all stand around looking concerned.

HERMIONE (outraged)
The way they were treating her! Mr. Diggory, calling her “elf” all the time…and Mr. Crouch! He knows she didn’t do it and he still sacked her anyway! He talks to her like she’s not even human!

RON (reasonably)
Well, she’s not…

Hermione shoots Ron a dirty look. Percy crosses his arms.

Well, Mr. Crouch is quite right to get rid of an elf like that! Embarrassing him in front of the whole Ministry… how would it have looked if she’d wound up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control of –

FRED (irritated)
Oh, put a sock in it, Weatherby.

What was that skull thing, anyway? Sure, it was spooky looking, but it was just hanging there…

I told you, Ron, it’s You-Know-Who’s sign. I read about it in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts.

Arthur puts the kettle back on the stove.

And it hasn’t been seen for thirteen years. Of course people panicked… You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters sent the Dark Mark into the sky whenever they killed someone. The terror it inspired…

Well, whoever conjured it tonight didn’t do us any favors. The Death Eaters all Disapparated the moment they saw it. Lucky we caught the Robertses before they hit the ground…

If those were You-Know-Who’s supporters, though, wouldn’t they be happy to see the Dark Mark?

Use your brains, Ron. The Death Eaters fought hard to keep themselves out of Azkaban, said they were forced to do You-Know-Who’s bidding. They’d be even more frightened than us to see him come back. Do you reckon he’d be too pleased with the ones who betrayed him?

Harry sips his hot chocolate, looking worried.

So… so whoever conjured the Dark Mark, were they doing it to show support for the Death Eaters, or to scare them away?

Your guess is as good as mine, Harry. But I’ll tell you this - it was only ever the Death Eaters who knew how to conjure that spell. I’d be surprised if the person who did it hadn’t been a Death Eater once, even if they aren’t now…

Harry sets down his cup and furrows his brow in concern, running a hand across his scar.

(Int. The Burrow – Morning)
Everyone is back from the World Cup. In the kitchen, Arthur is angrily reading a copy of the Daily Prophet bearing a moving black-and-white photo of the Dark Mark and the headline “SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP”.

ARTHUR (grumpy)
“Ministry blunders…” “Lax security…” “Culprits not apprehended…” “National disgrace”?! Ugh! Who wrote this garbage?

Arthur violently flips the paper around to the front page.

Oh, of course. Rita Skeeter.

He throws the paper onto the kitchen table, where Percy and Bill are seated. Bill looks very tired. Molly bustles around the kitchen, looking worried.

That woman’s got it in for the Ministry! Just last week she wrote that waffle about how we’re supposedly “wasting our time” quibbling about cauldron thickness when we ought to be stamping out vampires! As if it wasn’t specifically stated in paragraph twelve of –

BILL (yawning)
Do us all a favor and shut up, Perce.

Harry looks out the window, then turns to Molly.

Um, Mrs. Weasley, Hedwig hasn’t arrived with a letter for me, has she?

Hedwig? No, dear, I’m afraid there’s been no post at all.

Harry looks at Ron and Hermione.

Let’s go upstairs, guys.

(Int. Ron’s Room – Cont’d)
Harry shuts the door, then turns to Ron and Hermione, who are seated on Ron’s bed.

HARRY (heavy)
Look…there’s something I haven’t told you… On Thursday morning, I woke up with my scar hurting again.

Hermione gasps and puts a hand over her mouth. Ron looks stunned.

But…but he wasn’t there, was he? You-Know-Who, I mean?

I’m sure he wasn’t on Privet Drive. But I had just been dreaming about him… Him and Peter Pettigrew. They were in a house somewhere, talking about how they were going to kill someone…

But it was just a dream, mate. Doesn’t mean anything.

Harry turns to face the window.

But was it, though? I mean, it’s weird… I have a nightmare about Voldemort, my scar hurts, and then three days later the Death Eaters are on the march and Voldemort’s sign is in the sky…

Ron flinches uncomfortably.

RON (pained)
Don’t say his name!

You told Sirius about this, I hope!

‘Course I did. I’d hoped he would reply sooner than this, though…

But Sirius is in hiding, we don’t know where he is. He could be in Africa or something for all we know. Hedwig’s not going to manage that journey in a few days.

Harry’s eyes dart back towards Ron and Hermione, then back out the window.

HARRY (slightly worried)
Yeah… yeah, I s’pose… I just wish I knew what all this means…

From Harry’s POV, we see the very Hedwig-free sky over the backyard of the Burrow.

"More likely there's a very shell-shocked cat wandering around, covered in potato peelings."

My DeviantArt
Reply With Quote
Sponsored Links