Fable Weaver
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DOS Ch-31
🕑 Added 2024-05-18 15:49:36 +0000 UTCFebruary turned to March, and my days followed a steady, fulfilling routine. My weekdays were meticulously structured: three to four hours of intensive study sessions, one to one-and-a-half hours of immersive music lessons, and an hour and a half each dedicated to vigorous dance and martial arts training. Weekends were my sanctuary, offering a respite from the demanding schedule. I often sought solace in the nearby park, where the chirping of birds and rustling of leaves provided a serene backdrop as I strummed my guitar. Despite making acquaintances in my classes, none of them grew into friendships deep enough to be noteworthy.
Life moved forward, and I cherished every moment of it. Dad was deeply immersed in the production of [Harry Potter], often flying between LA and London to ensure everything was in order. The auditions were in full swing, sparking immense excitement among children across the UK.
So far, the roles of Draco Malfoy, and the Weasley twins had been cast, with the original actors reprising their roles from my previous life. For the adults, Maggie Smith and Alan Rickman were confirmed for McGonagall and Snape, respectively. It was comforting to see some things remain unchanged.
Finally, the pivotal day arrived for the finalization of the role of Harry Potter. I stood before the mirror in the dressing room, fully immersed in my transformation. The Hogwarts robe hung perfectly on me, my hair was styled into the characteristic messy look, and the iconic lightning scar was meticulously applied to my forehead. My naturally black hair and green eyes meant no need for a wig or contacts, adding authenticity to my portrayal.
“Troy, you look just like I had imagined!” Chris Columbus exclaimed as I stepped out of the dressing room, his eyes lighting up with approval.
I smiled but remained silent, turning my gaze towards the other important figure in the room: Joanne Rowling, the mother of Harry Potter herself.
Our eyes met, and I noticed tears welling up in hers, shimmering with emotion.
Not wanting to prolong her tears, I pulled out a wooden stick—my wand—and playfully cast a spell, “Rictusempra!”
She giggled, her tears transforming into laughter, a sound that lightened the room.
My smile widened with satisfaction. “See, Chris? This wand suits me well. My spell worked on Jo. It has chosen me.”
Chris smiled warmly, pointing at the script on the table. “Why don’t you read a few lines for us, Troy?”
“Sure.” Picking up the script, I carefully read through the pages given to me, feeling the weight of the moment.
It was the scene where Harry realizes that Snape gave Hagrid the dragon’s egg to learn about Fluffy, the three-headed dog. I took a deep breath, channeling Harry’s curiosity and determination, ready to bring the character to life.
“Of course.” I began, letting a realization wash over me, feeling a subtle shift in my demeanor as if Harry’s thoughts were my own.
“What is it?” Linda, the casting director filling in for all the other speaking roles, spoke as Hermione, her voice curious and concerned.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit odd that what Hagrid wants more than anything is a dragon, and a stranger just turns up who just happens to have one?” I asked, my voice tinged with incredulity. “I mean, how many people just wander around with a dragon egg in their pocket?” I let a hint of frustration seep into my tone, feeling Harry’s bewilderment and a touch of self-reproach. “Why didn’t I see it before?”
Turning sharply, I addressed Hagrid, my eyes narrowing with urgency. “Hagrid, who gave you the dragon egg? What did he look like?” I demanded, my voice insistent, pressing for the truth.
Linda responded, embodying Hagrid’s casual obliviousness. “I don’t know,” she read, her voice gruff. “He kept his hood up. Never saw his face.”
“This stranger though, you and he must have talked, right?” I asked, embodying Harry’s investigative spirit, leaning in as if piecing together a vital puzzle.
“Well, he wanted to know what sort of creatures I’ve looked after. So we talked about Fluffy,” she replied, her tone relaxed.
“Did he seem interested in Fluffy?” I asked, feeling a dawning realization build, my pulse quickening with the pieces falling into place.
“Of course he was!” Linda exclaimed jovially, her voice rising with Hagrid’s characteristic cheerfulness.
“And CUT!” Chris exclaimed, his voice slicing through the tension, bringing us back to reality. He turned to Jo, his face alight with excitement. “Do we have to read some more lines?”
Jo shrugged, a smile playing on her lips. “Well, I’m free this afternoon. I don’t mind.”
I took a deep breath as I came down from the high that was enacting the scene with such vigor. I had immersed myself so fully in the role that my heart was pounding in my chest because of the buildup of the tension in the scene.
“Are you good to go, Troy?” Chris asked with a tinge of worry in his tone.
“Oh, yeah,” I nodded. “Just got a little invested in the character. Nothing to worry about. Let’s do the next scene.”
That led to me reading almost half of Harry’s lines in the movie. Because the book had already been released and the movie was quite loyal to the source material, there was no suspense or anything of the sort. I felt an electric thrill each time I slipped into Harry’s skin, the words flowing naturally as if they were my own thoughts.
Every scene became a vivid tableau in my mind, from the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts to the towering, shadowed figure of Hagrid, each character’s presence palpable. The lines weren't just dialogue; they were a gateway to Harry's world, a reality I could almost touch.
It took more than two hours before I was finally free from the audition process and could change back to my regular clothes.
“Troy, there are a few things you have to keep in mind before we finalize you,” Chris explained, his tone serious yet supportive. “First of all, you must keep yourself physically fit for the next decade. That means no excess candies or fast food.”
That could be quite brutal for some kids, but not for me. I did enjoy fast food, don’t get me wrong, but I can sacrifice something for the role. And Chris said not in excess. That means a limited amount is acceptable, right? Not to mention my lessons would ensure I wouldn’t get fat.
“Secondly, after signing the contract, you’ll have to make sure not to accept any roles that may portray you in a negative light, or roles that are too mature, like your role in [Sex Education].” He stated firmly.
I nodded in acceptance. That rule was kind of iffy. I knew for a fact that Dan Radcliffe, the OG Harry Potter, appeared nude on stage in West End as well as Broadway and also had a simulated sex scene on stage, and Warner Bros didn’t do jack shit to him. Moreover, contracts entered into as kids have to be renewed when you reach the majority, so I can always refuse this clause at that time depending on the situation.
“Next, you must maintain passing grades all the way through high school, clearing your AS-Level at the very least or GED as the case may be.”
I nodded at that easily. As per my current plan, I would be done with my high school by the time I’m 14 or 15 at most.
He went on to list a few more conditions that I agreed to after getting confirmation from Mum about them. Most were simple, like maintaining a positive media image, staying away from controversial statements (like politics or religion), and keeping quiet about the future plots of the books if any of them were revealed to me during production.
We didn’t argue much and accepted the contract conditions. The only thing undecided was the matter of pay and the final signing of the contract, for which Warner Bros were waiting for after the release of [The Sixth Sense].
There was another reason for this. And that was the arrival of Daniel Radcliffe.
Yes, people, you heard it right. Chris Columbus watched a movie called David Copperfield after Maggie Smith recommended Daniel for the role. While Chris was strictly in favor of my casting, Warner Bros called Daniel over for the audition as well.
I shrugged it off as inconsequential. Daniel was much less experienced and lesser known than me. And I had the producer and the director in my corner.
“Hey, Chris! How’s the casting for other roles going?” I asked casually, trying to gauge the progress from the director himself.
“It’s going well,” Chris replied, rubbing his temples. “We’ve cast Neville, Fred and George, Ginny, Draco, Snape, and McGonagall. Oh, and of course, Hagrid. Ms. Rowling’s personal choice came through as Robbie Coltrane.” Chris sighed, a mix of relief and lingering stress evident in his voice. “Now if only Richard Harris would accept the role of Dumbledore, we would be so much more relaxed.”
Richard Harris was another issue altogether in the movie series. He was a wonderful actor, no doubt, but unfortunately, he passed away before the release of the second film and had to be recast in the form of Michael Gambon. It was a popular belief that if Richard Harris had lived longer, many of the scenes in future movies, like Dumbledore's fight with Voldemort in the fifth movie, would not be as interesting because of his frail body.
“Well, how about Michael Gambon? He is a good old actor. Or Michael Caine? Ian McKellen? Sean Connery?” I suggested, offering different alternatives for the role of Dumbledore.
“To be honest, Ian McKellen was my first choice for playing Dumbledore. Unfortunately, he signed the Lord of the Rings Trilogy, which is being shot at the moment, and he doesn't want to appear in two similar fantasy movies where he plays the old wizard,” Chris explained.
“A genuine reason for declining the role,” I acknowledged.
“Michael Caine… well, he doesn’t want a long-term commitment of more than one movie signed at one time. That’s not feasible for us. Sean Connery is in tax exile, which means that he cannot come to England for shooting for some legal reasons. And finally, Michael Gambon, hmm that’s not a name I had considered for the role. But I can see why you’d recommend him. I’ll discuss it with your Dad,” Chris said, patting me on the head. “Thanks a ton, Troy. Any other casting ideas?”
“Well…” I started, feeling a bit hesitant, “You could cast Ralph Fiennes as Voldemort.”
“That’s an interesting choice. Why him?” Chris asked, intrigued by my suggestion.
“Okay, don’t tell Dad or heavens forbid Mum,” I whispered, ensuring our conversation stayed between us. When he nodded, I continued, “I watched [Schindler’s List].”
He chuckled softly, understanding my reasoning. “Yeah, that would explain it. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. Now, why don’t you go back to your Mum? She must be getting bored there.”
Following his advice, I found Mum talking with Rowling. I always wanted to meet J.K. Rowling, and I couldn’t get a better opportunity. So I made a beeline towards Jo and Mum, presenting Jo with two books that I had brought specifically for this purpose.
“Can you please sign these books for me, Ms. Rowling?” I asked, offering her the first edition hardcovers of her first two books.
“Oh my! Please, dear, just call me Jo. You have the very first edition with you?” Jo exclaimed, seeing the limited edition books that had only a few hundred copies in the world.
“Yup!” I nodded enthusiastically. “I was probably one of your earliest readers. I convinced Dad to buy the adaptation rights of your book.”
“Then I have you to thank for, eh?” She asked me with a mischievous smile.
I felt a little confused. She should be angry with me if anything. If she had held onto the adaptation rights till now, she could’ve sold them off for millions. Not to mention, retaining the rights of the final few films to get a further increased price after a few years.
Seeing my confusion, she clarified, “I was in a very tough spot financially and needed cash urgently. Your Dad gave me that money, some of which I invested in promoting the book by going on tours around the UK and later in the US. And today, here I am. So, Troy Armitage, thank you. If it wasn’t for you, I might still be some poor, unpopular writer amongst thousands out there.”
I knew that wasn’t true, but I didn’t argue with her. In a way, it’s better if she believes that.
“Nonsense,” Mum cut in, “You’re an amazing writer, Jo. If not my husband, then someone else would have come to get the books. It was only a matter of time.”
Jo didn’t refute Mum’s words but simply signed the books and even wrote her personalized notes on them.
“Here you go.”
Part 1 read, ‘To my first fan out there. Thank you, Troy. -J.K. Rowling’
While Part 2 read, ‘I hope your acting journey is more magical than Harry’s. -J.K. Rowling’
I beamed at her, “Thank you, Jo. I’ll cherish these books and more to come till the end of time.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll save a first edition for you as soon as it comes out,” Jo promised with certainty. Then she leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “I hope you get the part.”
And with the blessing of the author herself, I left the studio.
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Dx_sty
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