A busy and crowded station. Full of people trying to go
somewhere. Amongst the hustle and bustle, two large
cages rattle on top of two laden trolleys. They’re being
pushed by two boys, JAMES POTTER and ALBUS POTTER, their
mother, GINNY, follows after. A thirty-seven-year-old man,
HARRY, has his daughter, LILY, on his shoulders.
ALBUS: Dad. He keeps saying it.
HARRY:James, give it a rest.
JAMES: I only said he might be in Slytherin. And he might
so . . . (Of his dad’s glare.) Fine.
ALBUS (looking up at his mum): You’ll write to me, won’t
you?
GINNY: Every day if you want us to.
ALBUS: No. Not every day. James says most people only
get letters from home about once a month. I don’t
want to . . .
HARRY: We wrote to your brother three times a week last
year.
ALBUS: What? James!
ALBUS looks accusingly at JAMES.
GINNY: Yes. You may not want to believe everything he
tells you about Hogwarts. He likes a laugh, your
brother.
JAMES (with a grin): Can we go now, please?
ALBUS looks at his dad, and then his mum.
GINNY: All you have to do is walk straight at the wall
between platforms nine and ten.
LILY: I’m so excited.
HARRY: Don’t stop and don’t be scared you’ll crash into it,
that’s very important. Best to do it at a run if you’re
nervous.
ALBUS: I’m ready.
HARRY and LILY put their hands on ALBUS’s trolley —
GINNY joins JAMES’s trolley — together, the family
run hard into the barrier.