SCORPIUS: "We send a memory — like a Pensieve — stand over him and send a message, hope he reaches for the memory at exactly the right moment. I mean, it’s unlikely, but . . . Stand over the baby — and just repeatedly shout HELP. HELP. HELP. I mean, it might traumatize the baby slightly."

ALBUS: "Only slightly.

SCORPIUS: I can’t quite believe I did that.

ALBUS: I can’t quite believe you did that either.

SCORPIUS: Rose Granger-Weasley. I asked out Rose Granger-Weasley.

ALBUS: And she said no.

SCORPIUS: But I asked her. I planted the acorn. The acorn that will grow into our eventual marriage.

ALBUS: You are aware that you’re an utter fantasist.

If I had to choose a companion to be at the return of eternal darkness with, I'd choose you.

SORTING HAT: "Albus Potter."

He puts his hat on Albus’s head — and this time he seems to take longer — almost as if he too is confused.

"SLYTHERIN!"

There’s a silence.
A perfect, profound silence.
One that sits low, twists a bit, and has damage within it.

Green is a soothing color, isn’t it? I mean Gryffindor rooms are all well and good but the trouble with red is — it is said to send you a little mad — not that I’m casting aspersions . . .

Albus: First question. What do you know about the Triwizard tournament?
Scorpius(happy): Ooooh, a quiz! Three schools pick three champions to compete in three tasks for one cup. What's that got to do with anything?
Albus: You really are an enormous geek, you know that?
Scorpius: Ya-huh.