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دانلود اپلیکیشن «زبانشناس»

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متن انگلیسی درس

ACT ONE, SCENE FIVE

MINISTRY OF MAGIC, HARRY’S OFFICE

HERMIONE sits with piles of paper in front of her in HARRY’s messy office. She is slowly sorting through it all. HARRY enters in a rush. He is bleeding from a graze on his cheek.

HERMIONE: How did it go?

HARRY: It was true.

HERMIONE: Theodore Nott?

HARRY: In custody.

HERMIONE: And the Time-Turner itself?

HARRY reveals the Time-Turner. It shines out alluringly.

Is it genuine? Does it work? It’s not just an hour-reversal turner — it goes back further?

HARRY: We don’t know anything yet. I wanted to try it out there and then but wiser heads prevailed.

HERMIONE: Well, now we have it.

HARRY: And you’re sure you want to keep it?

HERMIONE: I don’t think we’ve a choice. Look at it. It’s entirely different to the Time-Turner I had.

HARRY (dry): Apparently wizardry has moved on since we were kids.

HERMIONE: You’re bleeding.

HARRY checks his face in the mirror. He dabs at the wound with his robes.

Don’t worry, it’ll go with the scar.

HARRY (with a grin): What you doing in my office, Hermione?

HERMIONE: I was anxious to hear about Theodore Nott and — thought I’d check whether you’d kept your promise and were on top of your paperwork.

HARRY: Ah. Turns out I’m not.

HERMIONE: No. You’re not. Harry, how can you get any work done in this chaos?

HARRY waves his wand and the papers and books transform into neat piles. HARRY smiles.

HARRY: No longer chaotic.

HERMIONE: But still ignored. You know, there’s some interesting stuff in here . . . There are mountain trolls riding Graphorns through Hungary, there are giants with winged tattoos on their backs walking through the Greek Seas, and the werewolves have gone entirely underground — HARRY: Great, let’s get out there. I’ll get the team together.

HERMIONE: Harry, I get it. Paperwork’s boring . . .

HARRY: Not for you.

HERMIONE: I’m busy enough with my own. These are people and beasts that fought alongside Voldemort in the great wizarding wars. These are allies of darkness. This — combined with what we have just unearthed at Theodore Nott’s — could mean something. But if the Head of Magical Law Enforcement isn’t reading his files —

HARRY: But I don’t need to read it — I’m out there, hearing about it. Theodore Nott — it was me who heard the rumors about the Time-Turner and me who acted upon it. You really don’t need to tell me off.

HERMIONE looks at HARRY — this is tricky.

HERMIONE: Do you fancy a toffee? Don’t tell Ron.

HARRY: You’re changing the subject.

HERMIONE: I truly am. Toffee?

HARRY: Can’t. We’re off sugar at the moment. (Beat.) You know, you can get addicted to that stuff?

HERMIONE: What can I say? My parents were dentists, I was bound to rebel at some point. Forty is leaving it a little late, but . . . You’ve just done a brilliant thing. You’re certainly not being told off — I just need you to look at your paperwork every now and again, that’s all. Consider this a gentle — nudge — from the Minister for Magic.

HARRY hears the implication in her emphasis, he nods.

How’s Ginny? How’s Albus?

HARRY: It seems I’m as good at fatherhood as I am at paperwork. How’s Rose? How’s Hugo?

HERMIONE (with a grin): You know, Ron says he thinks I see more of my secretary, Ethel, (she indicates off) than him. Do you think there’s a point where we made a choice — parent of the year or Ministry official of the year? Go on. Go home to your family, Harry, the Hogwarts Express is about to depart for another year — enjoy the time you’ve got left — and then come back here with a fresh head and get these files read.

HARRY: You really think this could all mean something?

HERMIONE (with a smile): It could do. But if it does, we’ll find a way to fight it, Harry. We always have.

She smiles once more, pops a toffee in her mouth, and leaves the office. HARRY is left alone.

He packs his bag. He walks out of the office and down a corridor. The weight of the world upon his shoulders.

He walks, tired, into a telephone box. He dials 62442.

TELEPHONE BOX: Farewell, Harry Potter.

He ascends away from the Ministry of Magic.

ACT ONE, SCENE SIX

HARRY AND GINNY POTTER’S HOUSE

ALBUS can’t sleep. He is sitting at the top of the stairs. He hears voices below him. We hear HARRY’s voice before he’s revealed. An elderly man in a wheelchair is with him, AMOS DIGGORY.

HARRY: Amos, I understand, I really do — but I’m only just home and — AMOS: I’ve tried to make appointments at the Ministry. They say, “Ah, Mr. Diggory, we have an appointment for you, let’s see, in two months.” I wait. Very patiently.

HARRY: —and coming to my house in the middle of the night — when my kids are just getting ready for their new year at school — it’s not right.

AMOS: Two months pass, I receive an owl, “Mr. Diggory, I’m awfully sorry, but Mr. Potter has been called away on urgent business, we’re going to have to shift things around a little, are you available for an appointment in, let’s see, in two months’ time.” And then it repeats again, and again . . . You’re shutting me out.

HARRY: Of course I’m not. It’s just, I’m afraid, as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement I’m afraid I’m responsible —

AMOS: There’s plenty you’re responsible for.

HARRY: Sorry?

AMOS: My son, Cedric, you do remember Cedric, don’t you?

HARRY (remembering Cedric hurts him): Yes, I remember your son. His loss — AMOS: Voldemort wanted you! Not my son! You told me yourself, the words he said were, “Kill the spare.” The spare. My son, my beautiful son, was a spare.

HARRY: Mr. Diggory, as you know, I sympathize with your efforts to memorialize Cedric, but — AMOS: A memorial? I am not interested in a memorial — not anymore. I am an old man — an old dying man — and I am here to ask you — beg you — to help me get him back.

HARRY looks up, astonished.

HARRY: Get him back? Amos, that’s not possible.

AMOS: The Ministry has a Time-Turner, does it not?

HARRY: The Time-Turners were all destroyed.

AMOS: The reason I’m here with such urgency is I’ve just heard rumor — strong rumor — that the Ministry seized an illegal Time-Turner from Theodore Nott and has kept it. For investigation. Let me use that Time-Turner. Let me have my son back.

There’s a long, deadly pause. HARRY is finding this extremely difficult. We watch as ALBUS moves closer, listening.

HARRY: Amos, playing with time? You know we can’t do that.

AMOS: How many people have died for the Boy Who Lived? I’m asking you to save one of them.

This hurts HARRY. He thinks, his face hardens.

HARRY: Whatever you’ve heard, the Theodore Nott story is a fiction, Amos, I’m sorry.

DELPHI: Hello.

ALBUS jumps a mile as DELPHI — a twenty-something, determined-looking woman — is revealed, looking through the stairs at him.

Oh. Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle. I used to be a big stair-listener myself. Sitting there.

Waiting for someone to say something the tiniest bit interesting.

ALBUS: Who are you? Because this is sort of my house and . . . DELPHI: I’m a thief, of course. I’m about to steal everything you own. Give me your gold, your wand, and your Chocolate Frogs! (She looks fierce and then smiles.) Either that or I’m Delphini Diggory. (She ascends the stairs and sticks out a hand.) Delphi. I look after him — Amos — well, I try. (She indicates AMOS.) And you are?

ALBUS (rueful grin): Albus.

DELPHI: Of course! Albus Potter! So Harry is your dad? That’s a bit wow, isn’t it?

ALBUS: Not really.

DELPHI: Ah. Have I just put my foot in it? It’s what they used to say about me at school. Delphini Diggory — there isn’t a hole she couldn’t dig herself into.

ALBUS: They do all sorts with my name too.

Pause. She looks at him carefully.

AMOS: Delphi.

She makes to depart and then hesitates. She smiles at ALBUS.

DELPHI: We don’t choose who we’re related to. Amos . . . isn’t just my patient, he’s my uncle, it’s part of the reason I took the job at Upper Flagley. But that’s made it difficult. It’s tough to live with people stuck in the past, isn’t it?

AMOS: Delphi!

ALBUS: Upper Flagley?

DELPHI: St. Oswald’s Home for Old Witches and Wizards. Come see us sometime. If you like.

AMOS: DELPHI!

She smiles and then trips as she travels down the stairs. She enters the room with AMOS and HARRY in it. ALBUS watches her.

DELPHI: Yes, Uncle?

AMOS: Meet the once-great Harry Potter, now a stone-cold Ministry man. I will leave you in peace, sir.

If peace is the right word for it. Delphi, my chair . . . DELPHI: Yes, Uncle.

AMOS is pushed out of the room. HARRY is left, looking forlorn. ALBUS watches on, thinking carefully.

ACT ONE, SCENE SEVEN

HARRY AND GINNY POTTER’S HOUSE, ALBUS’S ROOM

ALBUS is sitting on the bed as the world goes on outside his door. Still against the constant motion outside. We hear a roar from JAMES (off).

GINNY:James, please, ignore your hair, and tidy that damn room . . . JAMES: How can I ignore it? It’s pink! I’m going to have to use my Invisibility Cloak!

JAMES appears at the door, he has pink hair.

GINNY: That’s not why your dad gave you that Cloak!

LILY: Who’s seen my Potions book?

GINNY: Lily Potter, don’t think you’re wearing those to school tomorrow . . . LILY appears at ALBUS’s door. She’s wearing fairy wings that flutter.

LILY: I love them. They’re fluttery.

She exits as HARRY appears in ALBUS’s doorway. He looks through.

HARRY: Hi.

There’s an awkward pause between them. GINNY appears in the doorway. She sees what’s happening, she stays a moment.

Just delivering a pre-Hogwarts gift — gifts — Ron’s sent this . . . ALBUS: Okay. A love potion. Okay.

HARRY: I think it’s a joke about — I don’t know what. Lily got farting gnomes, James got a comb that’s made his hair turn a shade of pink. Ron — well, Ron’s Ron, you know?

HARRY puts down ALBUS’s love potion on his bed.

I also — this is from me . . .

He reveals a small blanket. GINNY looks at it, she sees HARRY is trying, and then she softly walks away.

ALBUS: An old blanket?

HARRY: I thought a lot about what to give you this year. James — well, James has been going on about the Invisibility Cloak since time itself, and Lily — I knew she’d love wings — but you. You’re fourteen years old now, Albus, and I wanted to give you something which — meant something.

This . . . is the last thing I had from my mum. The only thing. I was given to the Dursleys wrapped in it. I thought it had gone forever and then, when your great-aunt Petunia died, hidden amongst her possessions, surprisingly, Dudley found this and he kindly sent it on to me, and ever since then — well, anytime I’ve wanted luck I’ve found it and just tried to hold it and I wondered if you . . .

ALBUS: Wanted to hold it too? Okay. Done. Let’s hope it brings me luck. I certainly need some.

He touches the blanket.

But you should keep it.

HARRY: I think — believe — Petunia wanted me to have it, that’s why she kept it, and now I want you to have it from me. I didn’t really know my mother — but I think she’d have wanted you to have it too. And maybe — I could come find you — and it — on Hallows’ Eve. I’d like to be with it on the night they died — and that could be good for the two of us . . . ALBUS: Listen, I’ve got quite a lot of packing to do, and you undoubtedly have Ministry work coming out of your ears, so . . .

HARRY: Albus, I want you to have the blanket.

ALBUS: And do what with it? Fairy wings make sense, Dad, invisibility cloaks, they also make sense — but this — really?

HARRY is slightly heartbroken. He looks at his son, desperate to reach out.

HARRY: Do you want a hand? Packing. I always loved packing. It meant I was leaving Privet Drive and going back to Hogwarts. Which was . . . well, I know you don’t love it but . . . ALBUS: For you, it’s the greatest place on earth. I know. The poor orphan, bullied by his uncle and aunt Dursley . . .

HARRY: Albus, please — can we just —

ALBUS: . . . traumatized by his cousin, Dudley, saved by Hogwarts. I know it all, Dad. Blah, blah, blah.

HARRY: I’m not going to rise to your bait, Albus Potter.

ALBUS: The poor orphan who went on to save us all. So may I say — on behalf of wizarding kind — how grateful we are for your heroism. Should we bow now or will a curtsy do?

HARRY: Albus, please — you know, I’ve never wanted gratitude.

ALBUS: But right now I’m overflowing with it — it must be the kind gift of this moldy blanket that did it . . .

HARRY: Moldy blanket?

ALBUS: What did you think would happen? We’d hug. I’d tell you I always loved you. What? What?

HARRY (finally losing his temper): You know what? I’m done with being made responsible for your unhappiness. At least you’ve got a dad. Because I didn’t, okay?

ALBUS: And you think that was unlucky? I don’t.

HARRY: You wish me dead?

ALBUS: No! I just wish you weren’t my dad.

HARRY (seeing red): Well, there are times I wish you weren’t my son.

There’s a silence. ALBUS nods. Pause. HARRY realizes what he’s said.

No, I didn’t mean that . . .

ALBUS: Yes. You did.

HARRY: Albus, you just know how to get under my skin . . . ALBUS: You meant it, Dad. And, honestly, I don’t blame you.

There’s a horrible pause.

You should probably leave me alone now.

HARRY: Albus, please . . .

ALBUS picks up the blanket and throws it. It collides with RON’s love potion, which spills all over the blanket and the bed, producing a small puff of smoke.

ALBUS: No luck or love for me, then.

ALBUS runs out of the room. HARRY goes after him.

HARRY: Albus. Albus . . . Please . . .

ACT ONE, SCENE EIGHT

DREAM, HUT-ON-THE-ROCK

There’s a LARGE BOOM. Then there’s a LARGE CRASH. DUDLEY DURSLEY, AUNT PETUNIA, and UNCLE VERNON are cowering behind a bed.

DUDLEY DURSLEY: Mum, I don’t like this.

AUNT PETUNIA: I knew we made a mistake coming here. Vernon. Vernon. There’s nowhere we can hide.

Not even a lighthouse is far enough away!

There’s another LARGE BOOM.

UNCLE VERNON: Hold on. Hold on. Whatever it is, it’s not coming in here.

AUNT PETUNIA: We’re cursed! He’s cursed us! The boy has cursed us! (Seeing YOUNG HARRY.) This is all your fault. Get back in your hole.

YOUNG HARRY flinches away as UNCLE VERNON holds out his rifle.

UNCLE VERNON: Whoever’s there, I should warn you — I’m armed.

There’s a MASSIVE SMASH. And the door falls off its hinges. HAGRID stands in the middle of the doorway. He looks at them all.

HAGRID: Couldn’t make us a cup o’ tea, could yeh? It’s not been an easy journey.

DUDLEY DURSLEY: Look. At. Him.

UNCLE VERNON: Stand back. Stand back. Behind me, Petunia. Behind me, Dudley. I’ll soon see this scarramanger off.

HAGRID: Scarrawhat?

He picks up UNCLE VERNON’s gun.

Haven’t seen one of these for a while.

He twists the end of the gun and ties it in a knot.

Oops-a-daisy.

And then he gets distracted. He’s seen YOUNG HARRY.

Harry Potter.

YOUNG HARRY: Hello.

HAGRID: Las’ time I saw yeh, yeh was only a baby. Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh’ve got yer mum’s eyes.

YOUNG HARRY: You knew my parents?

HAGRID: Where’s me manners? A very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here — I mighta sat on it at some point, but it’ll taste all right.

From inside his coat he pulls a slightly squashed chocolate cake with “Happy Birthday Harry” written on it in green icing.

YOUNG HARRY: Who are you?

HAGRID (laughing): True, I haven’t introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. (He looks around himself.) What about that tea, then, eh? I’d not say no ter summat stronger if yeh’ve got it, mind.

YOUNG HARRY: Hogwhere?

HAGRID: Hogwarts. Yeh’ll know all about Hogwarts, o’ course.

YOUNG HARRY: Er — no. Sorry.

HAGRID: Sorry? It’s them as should be sorry! I knew yeh weren’t gettin’ yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn’t even know abou’ Hogwarts, fer cryin’ out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yer parents learnt it all?

YOUNG HARRY: Learnt what?

HAGRID turns menacingly towards UNCLE VERNON.

HAGRID: Do you mean ter tell me, that this boy — this boy! — knows nothin’ abou’ — about ANYTHING?

UNCLE VERNON: I forbid you to tell the boy anything more!

YOUNG HARRY: Tell me what?

HAGRID looks at UNCLE VERNON and then at YOUNG HARRY.

HAGRID: Harry — yer a wizard — yeh changed everything. Yer the most famous wizard in the whole world.

And then, right from the back of the room, whispering around everyone.

Words said with an unmistakable voice. The voice of VOLDEMORT . . . Haaarry Pottttter.

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