These are dark times,
there is no denying.

Our world has perhaps faced
no greater threat than it does today.

But I say this to our citizenry!

We, ever your servants,

will continue to defend your liberty

and repel the forces
that seek to take it from you.

Your Ministry remains strong.

- Hermione, tea is ready, darling.
- Coming, Mum.

Come on, Dudley, hurry up!

I still don't understand
why we have to leave.

Because it's not safe
for us here anymore.

Ron, tell your father
supper's nearly ready.

Obliviate!

uploaded by mahendra

Severus, I was beginning
to worry you'd lost your way.

Come, we've saved you a seat.

- You bring new, I trust.
- It will happen Saturday next,

at nightfall.

I have heard differently, my lord.
Dawlish, the auror, has let slip

that the Potter boy will not be moved
until the 30th of this month,

the day before he turns seventeen.

This is a false trail.

The auror office no longer plays any
part in the protection of Harry Potter.

Those closest to him believe
we have infiltrated the Ministry.

Well they got that right,
didn't they?

What say you, Pius?

One hears many things, my lord.

Whether the truth is
among them is not clear.

Spoken like a true politician.

You will, I think,
prove most useful, Pius.

- Where will he be taken, the boy?
- To a safe-house.

Most likely the home of
someone in the Order.

I'm told it's been given every
manner of protection possible.

Once there, it will be impractical
to attack him.

My lord, I'd like to volunteer
myself for this task.

I want to kill the boy.

Wormtail!

Have I not spoken to you
about keeping our guest quiet?

Yes, my lord.

Right away, my lord.

As inspiring as I find
your blood lust, Bellatrix,

I must be the one
to kill Harry Potter.

But I face an unfortunate complication.

That my wand and Potter's
share the same core.

They are, in some ways, twins.

We can wound, but not
fatally harm, one another.

If I am to kill him,

I must do it with another's wand.

Come, surely one of you
would like the honour?

Hmm?

What about you, Lucius?

- Wh...
- "What, my lord?"

I require your wand.

- Do I detect elm?
- Yes, my lord.

And the core?

- Dragon heart-string, my lord.
- Dragon heart-string?

To those of you who do not know,

we are joined tonight
by Miss Charity Burbage,

who, until recently, taught at Hogwarts
School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Her speciality was Muggle Studies.

It is Miss Burbage's belief that
Muggles are not so different from us.

She would, given her way,

have us mate with them.

To her, the mixture of magical and
Muggle blood is not an abomination,

but something to be encouraged.

Severus.

Severus, please.

We're friends!

Avada kedavra!

Nagini...

Dinner.

- Hello, Harry!
- Hi!

- Hello!
- You're looking fit.

Yeah, he's absolutely gorgeous!

What's say we get undercover
before someone murders him.

Evening.

Kingsley, I thought you were
looking after the Prime Minister.

You are more important.

- Hello, Harry. Bill Weasley.
- Oh, pleasure to meet you.

- Was never always this handsome.
- Dead ugly!

- Harry.
- True enough.

I will off the werewolf named Greyback.
I have to repay the favour one day.

Well you're still beautiful
to me, Billy.

Just remember, Fleur, Bill
takes his steaks on the raw side now.

My husband the joker.

By the way,
wait till you hear the news.

- Remus and I...
- All right, all right!

We have time for a cosy catchup later!
We've got to get the hell out of here!

And soon!

Potter, you're under-age, which means
you've still got the trace on you.

What's the trace?

If you sneeze, the Ministry will
know who wipes your nose.

Point is, we have to use
those means of transport

the trace can't detect.

Brooms, thestrals and the like.

We'll go in pairs.

That way if anyone's out there waiting
for us, and I reckon there will be,

They won't know which
Harry Potter is the real one.

The real one?

I believe you're familiar
with this particular brew.

- No, absolutely not.
- Told you he'd take it well.

No, if you think I'm going to let
everyone risk their lives for me...

- Never done that before, have we?
- No, no, this is different.

I mean, taking that,
becoming me... No!

Well, none of us really fancy it, mate.

Yeah, imagine if something went wrong
and we ended up a screwy specky git forever!

Everyone here is of age, Potter.

They've all agreed to take the risk.

Technically, I've been coerced.
Mundungus Fletcher, Mr. Potter.

Always been a huge admirer.

Nip it, Mundungus.

- All right, Granger, as discussed.
- Blimey, Hermione!

Straight in here, if you please.

For those of you who haven't
taken polyjuice potion before,

fair warning:

It tastes like goblin piss.

Have a lot of experiences with that,
do you, Mad Eye?

Just trying to diffuse the tension.

- Wow. We're identical.
- Not yet, you're not.

- Haven't got anything a bit more sporting, have you?
- Yeah, I don't really fancy this colour.

Yeah, well fancy this. You're not you.
So shut it and strip.

All right, all right.

You need to change, too, Potter.

Bill, look away. I'm hideous.

- I knew she was lying about that tattoo.
- Harry, your eyesight really is awful.

Right then, we'll be pairing off.
Each Potter will have a protector.

Mundungus, stick tight to me.
I want to keep an eye on you.

- As for Harry...
- Yes?

The real Harry. Where
the devil are you, anyway?

- Here.
- You ride with Hagrid.

I brought you here sixteen years ago,
when you were no bigger than a bowtruckle.

Seems only right that I should be
the one to take you away now.

Yes, it's all very touching.
Let's go!

Head for the burrows.
We'll rendezvous there.

- On the count of three.
- Hold tight, Harry.

One.

Two.

Three.

- Hagrid, we have to help the others!
- Can't do that, Harry.

Mad Eye's orders.

Hang on.

Hang on, Harry!

Hagrid!

No! No!

Harry!

Harry!
Hagrid!

What happened?

Where are the others?

Is no one else back?

The were on us right
from the start, Molly.

We didn't stand a chance.

Well, thank goodness
you two are all right.

The Death Eaters were waiting for us.
It was an ambush.

Ron and Tonks should have
already been back.

Dad and Fred as well.

There.

Quick, into the house.

Oh, my boy...

- Lupin!
- What are you doing?

What creature sat in the corner

the first time Harry Potter
visited my office in Hogwarts?

- Are you mad?
- What creature?!

A grindylow.

We've been betrayed.

Voldemort knew you were
being moved tonight.

I had to make sure
you weren't an impostor.

Wait!

The last words Albus Dumbledore
spoke to the pair of us.

"Harry is the best hope we have.

Trust him."

What gave you away?

Hedwig, I think.

She was trying to protect me.

Thanks.

He deserves that. Brilliant, he was.
I wouldn't be standing here without him.

Really?

Why is it so a surprise?

We the last back?
Where's George?

How you feeling, Georgie?

- Saint-like.
- Come again?

Saint-like.

I'm holey.

I'm holey, Fred.
Get it?

The whole wide world
of ear-related humour,

and you go for "I'm holey."
It's pathetic.

Reckon I'm still
better-looking than you.

Mad Eye's dead.

Mundungus took one look
at Voldemort and disapparated.

Head for the burrows.

Seven... Seven...

- Horcrux...
- They could be hidden anywhere, couldn't they?

To split the soul into seven pieces...

- Well if you did destroy each horcrux...
- One destroys Voldemort.

You lied to me.
You lied to me, Ollivander!

Going somewhere?

Nobody else is going to die.

Not for me.

For you?

You think Mad Eye died for you?

You think George
took that curse for you?

You may be the chosen one, mate,

but this is a whole lot
bigger than that.

It's always been bigger than that.

- Come with me.
- What, and leave Hermione?

You're mad.

We wouldn't last two days
without her.

Don't tell her I said that.

Besides,
you've still got the trace on you.

- Still got the wedding...
- Well I don't care about a wedding.

I'm sorry, no matter whose it is,
I have to start finding these horcruxes.

They're our only chance to beat him,

and the longer we stay here,
the stronger he gets.

Tonight's not the night, mate.

You'll only be doing him a favour.

Do you think he knows?

I mean, the bits of his soul,
these horcruxes,

bits of him...

When Dumbledore destroyed the ring,

when you destroyed Tom Riddle's diary,

he must have felt something.

To kill the other horcruxes,
we have to find them.

Where are they?

Where do we start?

Zip me up, will you?

It seems silly, doesn't it,
a wedding?

Given everything that's going on.

Maybe that's the
best reason to have it.

Because of everything that's going on.

Morning.

All together now!

One, two, three.

How's it look on your end?

Through the end.

Bloody hell.
What's the Minister of Magic doing here?

To what do we owe the pleasure,
Minister?

I think we both know the answer
to that question, Mr. Potter.

And this is...?

"Here it is set forth
the last will and testament

"of Albus Percival
Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

"First, to Ronald Bilius Weasley,

"I leave my deluminator,

"a device of my own making,

"in the hope that when things
seem most dark,

it will show him the light."

- Dumbledore left this for me?
- Yes.

Brilliant.

What is it?

Wicked...

"To Hermione Jean Granger,

"I leave my copy of
The Tales of Beedle the Bard,

in the hope that she find it
entertaining and instructive."

Mum used to read me those.

"The Wizard and the Hopping Pot."
"Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump."

Come on, Babbitty Rabbitty.

No?

"To Harry James Potter,

"I leave the snitch he caught in
his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts,

"as a reminder of the rewards
of perseverance

and skill."

Is that it, then?

Not quite.

Dumbledore left you
a second bequest.

The sword of Godric Gryffindor.

Unfortunately, the sword of Gryffindor
was not Dumbledore's to give away.

As an important historical artefact,
it belongs...

To Harry.

It belongs to Harry.

It came to him when he most
needed it in the Chamber of Secrets.

The sword may present itself to any
worthy Gryffindor, Miss Granger,

that does not make it
that wizard's property.

And in any event, the current
whereabouts of the sword are unknown.

Excuse me?

The sword is missing.

I don't know what you're up to,
Mr. Potter,

but you can't fight
this war on your own.

He's too strong.

Hello, Harry.

I've interrupted a deep thought,
haven't I?

I can see it growing smaller in your eyes.

Of course not.
How are you, Luna?

Very well. Got bitten by
a garden gnome only moments ago.

Gnome saliva is very beneficial.

Xenophilius Lovegood.
We live just over the hill.

Pleasure to meet you, sir.

I trust you know, Mr. Potter,

that we at The Quibbler,
unlike those toadies at the Daily Prophet,

fully supported Dumbledore in his lifetime,
and in his death, support you just as fully.

Thank you.

Come, Daddy. Harry doesn't want
to talk to us right now.

He's just too polite to say so.

Harry Potter...

Excuse me, sir.

- May I sit down?
- Mr. Potter.

By all means.
Here.

I found what you wrote
in the Daily Prophet really moving.

You obviously knew Dumbledore well.

Well I certainly knew him the longest.

That is, if you don't count
his brother, Aberforth.

And somehow people never
do seem to count Aberforth.

I didn't even know he had a brother.

Well, Dumbledore was always
very private, even as a boy.

Don't despair, Elphias.

I'm told he's been thoroughly
un-riddled by Rita Skeeter.

In 800 pages, no less.

Word has it that
someone talked to her.

Someone who knew
the Dumbledore family well.

Both you and I know who that is, Elphias.

A monstrous betrayal.

Who are we talking about?

Bathilda Bagshot.

- Who?
- My God, boy...

She's only the most celebrated
magical historian of the last century!

She was as close
to the Dumbledores as anyone.

Oh, I'm sure Rita Skeeter thought it
well worth a trip to Godric's Hollow

to take a peek into that
old bird's rattled cage.

Godric's Hollow?

Bathilda Bagshot lives in Godric's Hollow?

Well that's where she first met Dumbledore.

You don't mean to say he lived there too?

The family moved there after
his father killed those three Muggles.

Oh, it was quite the scandal.

Honestly, my boy...

Are you sure you knew him at all?

The Ministry has fallen.

The Minister of Magic is dead.

They are coming.

They are coming.

Nice meeting you, Mr. Potter.

Ginny!

Move! Go!

Sync & Romanian translation:
Kprice/Avocatul31

Where are we?

Shaftesbury Avenue.

I used to come to the theatre
here with Mum and Dad.

Don't know why I thought of it.
It just popped into my head.

This way.