When I heard that there is a Harry Potter play called “Harry Potter and the Cursed Child” being staged in London, taking place with the characters as adults, I very quickly imagined the following prologue. I hope it elicits at least a chuckle.
Piercing cries awoke Harry Potter. He groaned and sat up in bed. Ginny, sleepily murmured, “Your turn, dear” and rolled over. Harry’s protest was on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it, since he would probably be unable to sleep until Albus quieted down, while Ginny would quickly return to her snoring.
Harry climbed out of bed in an unhappy mood. He had been up late working on his speech at the upcoming Hogwarts reunion gala and had hoped to get a solid sleep in order to have a productive werewolf hunt tomorrow. It was cold in their drafty country home and Harry’s drab pajamas offered little protection. In the darkness, Harry could only find one of his rabbit slippers at the foot of his bed. They were warm and furry, but had a tendency to burrow under things. Albus continued crying as he hurriedly put it on. “Oh, please don’t wake up the other children,” Harry thought to himself. Harry grabbed his wand off its rack as he half-shuffled out of his room. “Lumuns,” he whispered and the tip of wand glowed softly.
Dodging the toys on the floor, Harry found Albus crying and thrashing in crib. Albus had pooped and the poop had stained through his pjs and mucked up his covers. “Fewmets,” muttered Harry. An unsuccessful juggling of the baby meant that Harry would have to change his own pajamas too. Harry placed Albus down on the changing dresser and rummaged around for wipes, a new diaper, and more pjs. Albus cried continuously. Harry set the wand down and cleaned off his crying son. He had just applied the powder when a shrill voice cried out from the neighboring room “Daddy! Daddy!” which was quickly followed by a shriller voice calling “Daddy, Persephone woke me up!”
After hurriedly putting a new onesie most of the way on Albus, Harry laid the diaper on the changing pad, grabbed his wand, knocked over the powder, stumbled on some wooden blocks, and finally made it to the hallway. He opened the girls’ room and said, a little testily, “Minerva, Persephone, it’s alright. Go back to bed. Albus just needed a diaper change.”
“But daddy, I’m afraid the goblins will get me.” said Minerva.
“No goblins enter our house without my permission,” Harry snapped, “Now go back to sleep. Dream of sugarplum fairies.” Harry closed the door, but the girls quickly started to call out again. Albus was lying on the changing dresser and still crying. Powder was all over the floor. In the light of the wand, Harry watched as his little boy peed over the new onsie, the diaper, and the changing cover. “Oh curse you, child,” cried Harry, waving his wand in frustration, “may the goblins take you!”
His wand suddenly shone a sickly green. A small goblin in a tweed suit with horn-rimmed glass and a bowler hat appeared on the changing table. “If you insist!” he said cheerfully. Before Harry could think of the appropriate counter-curse, Albus disappeared in a flash of green light and swirl of talcum powder . . .
HARRY POTTER AND THE CURSED CHILD.