Hollywood: Lights, Ink, Entertainment!

…..

They were now in Diagon Alley.

And then... things happened.

David didn't mean that in a dismissive way -

It was just that somewhere between the wand choosing the wizard and the goblins sliding open vaults full of gold, he had stopped taking mental notes and just... started watching.

Not like an adult keeping an eye on a kid's movie, but properly, eyes focused and immersed like it was a baseball match.

He already knew the story.

Hell, he could recite it from memory, thanks to months of nightly readings and re-readings and those ridiculous made-up voices that Emma insisted on - one for every character, including the owls.

But even so, the film gripped him in ways the book hadn't.

Or maybe, in ways he hadn't let the book grip him.

The leap to Platform 9 3⁄4 wasn't much of a surprise, he had always thought it was cute, even if the concept of magical train platforms in a London train station felt a little self-indulgent.

But now, watching it unfold with the swelling score and the way Emma leaned forward just a bit when Harry ran into the wall, he caught himself thinking -

That's actually... really well done.

And then, they were on the train.

And then, Hogwarts.

It was the first real glimpse of the castle.

This was their first real look at Hogwarts, and David had to admit...

It was beautiful.

It looked like a big castle in a movie, which he supposed would be impressive if you were living in real life and had spent your whole life under a child abuser's stairs. But as things moved forward, he found himself forgetting about his cynical commentary and starting to genuinely enjoy the movie.

There was physicality in the shadows, weight in the way the boats moved across the lake. The water rippled, and the castle reflected, imperfectly, in it.

Of course never as much as the little girl beside him.

Nevertheless, David's mood is just opposite of his initial one, and it only kept improving - the more the movie went on, the more he started to forget who he was at that moment.

Not as a bored uncle or a babysitter with a theatre ticket.

Just a guy in the dark... watching a story unfold.

….

Broom Flying lessons.

The scene began light, almost comedic, as the brooms shivered and jerked upright.

The kids looked nervous, their robes flapping, it was shot like a scene from an old British school drama, close-ups, shaky hands, awkward posture.

And then - bam.

Malfoy snatches Neville's Remembrall and takes off.

Suddenly the camera sweeps with a whole new energy.

Harry's chase was quick.

The broom moved like it had weight, not just a pixel blur in a skybox, the background moved with him, and his hair whipped convincingly as if - yeah, like he was actually up there.

Then came the introduction to Quidditch, and David who is a pilot himself - had to admit the flying scenes looked spectacular on the big screen. The aerial choreography was impressive, even if the sport itself made absolutely no sense from a practical standpoint.

He didn't know how they shot this scene… Wires? Motion rigs? Maybe a bit of practicality and a hell of a lot of planning.

It was cool, not flashy or not the 'cool for a kids movie'.

Just… cool.

And then came the troll.

The man stiffened as the shot cut to the massive shadow lurching through the dungeon hallway.

He remembered the trailer for a brief moment.

The scene flashed for just a second - and he had ignored it the first time.

But then Emma had made him watch it again.

And again. And again.

He gave her a look now, subtle, she was peeking through her fingers, curled into herself in the seat, whispering to the screen under her breath -

"run run run."

Guess someone was scared after all.

But not terrified, the troll was big, slow and even a little dumb looking.

And yet... surprisingly good.

The troll looked incredible, though. It was scary but not enough to make children cry - you could see how conscious the filmmakers were about striking the right balance.

It would be a funny problem to have: tanking your major blockbuster because the CGI was just too good and traumatized half your target audience.

….

Then - the first Quidditch match.

Oh, wow.

The moment the snitch zipped past Harry's ear, David leaned forward without realizing, the pitch came alive in a way he hadn't expected.

Not in the sense of realism, exactly, it wasn't like a real sport - but the director's hadn't tried to make it one.

Instead, it felt like a myth.

Like a dream of what a sport would be if magic really exists.

…it was just another version of soccer.

When Harry swerved, the camera didn't stay outside - it followed him.

Tightly, fast and slightly shaky.

Like a GoPro with a $100 million dollar rig.

This actually made him wonder… did they have an unlimited budget or what?

Some of the shots were obviously CGI.

The shots gave you the idea, the movement, the blur, and then cut to something grounded like a goal hoop, gasping the crowd or a fallen broomstick skittering across the stone.

It sold the illusion by not pushing it too far.

You felt the air on your face, you saw blurs of green and red streak past.

….

Later came the venture into the Forbidden Forest, and David couldn't help but think that, as usual, sending young children into a dark forest with a gigantic yokel was turning out extremely well.

Hagrid showed just how good he was at taking care of kids by splitting the group up and sending Harry and Draco off by themselves into the most dangerous part of the woods.

This led to the discovery of a dead unicorn and a terrifying figure in a black cloak who was about to kill Harry before he was saved by a centaur.

The centaur's animation wasn't perfect, but they actually looked surprisingly magical and otherworldly - which was the whole point, David supposed.

The creature explained some important plot points to Harry while Emma gripped her armrest, completely absorbed in the tension of the scene.

….

As the scene faded to black, and the music shifted again into something soft and uncertain…

David sat back.

Not because it was over.

But because, for the first time, he wished it wouldn't.

.…

So, it marched onward - this strange, magical little movie that started with lanterns and owls and had now become something entirely different.

The man wasn't sure when the shift happened, but somewhere between enchanted vines and sentient chessboards, the tone had darkened.

Back in Hogwarts, things moved quickly.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had pieced together the puzzle faster than the adults, faster than most of the audience expected - and suddenly they were sprinting down stone corridors like they were chasing the ending.

But first, they stopped to paralyze poor Neville Longbottom, whose life seemed to be an unending series of unfortunate events.

All he wanted was some order, a little decorum, maybe a midnight snack too.

Instead he got full-body paralysis at the hands of Hermione and a casual apology that, frankly, should've been mailed with flowers.

David shook his head as he watched. "That kid cannot catch a break." He muttered under his breath.

The theater chuckled at that one, a light release before the descent.

Then Fluffy, the three-headed dog, snoring on cue to the harp's last trembling note.

The drop to the vines was instant, almost comedic in its setup - then immediately sinister when they started tightening around limbs and throats.

A few parents shifted in their seats.

One kid yelped.

After getting past the massive creature, the children were grabbed by a bunch of slimy, rooty, tentacley things that reminded David of the trash compactor scene in Star Wars.

Hermione defeated the plant by remembering something she had read in a book, because of course she did, the infuriating little know-it-all.

"She is so smart!" Emma whispered admiringly.

Next came a room full of flying keys, and David found himself wondering what kind of place this really was.

Who designed these security measures? A committee of puzzle enthusiasts?

In the next room was a giant chess board, which was perfect because Ron had been playing chess earlier and was apparently quite good at it, even though in every other respect he seemed to be... well, not the sharpest tool in the shed.

The stakes were made clear - if Ron didn't play well, all the children would be killed, which would definitely affect the film's PG rating.

Obviously, David wasn't particularly worried about the outcome.

Emma was on the edge of her seat during the chess game, gasping at each dramatic move.

When he mounted the knight, the theater held its breath.

And when the sword came down and knocked him out cold, you could hear someone a few rows back suck in air through their teeth.

Harry's goodbye was quick, but not careless.

Hermione had tears in her eyes.

At this point, David wasn't sure if the kids were acting, or just reacting - but it landed.

Then came the final room.

The boss battle.

So Harry reached the final confrontation, where he met...

Professor Quirrell.

David could hear surprised gasps ripple through the theater.

Even though he and Emma had read the book multiple times, it must not be the same for everyone present.

This revelation must have been quite a shock to most of the audience.

David himself remembered being genuinely taken aback when this twist was first thrown at him during their initial reading sessions.

"Oh my God, who saw that coming?" someone whispered a few rows behind them.

Emma turned to David with wide eyes, as if seeing his reaction to a plot twist she had known was coming all along.

And the revelations kept coming - Snape had been trying to protect Harry all along! At the Quidditch match, he had been casting a counter-spell to fight Quirrell's curse!

Snape, not a villain? How was this possible?

David watched the audience around them processing this information, remembering his own surprise at discovering that the obvious suspect had been innocent all along.

Quirrell proceeded to explain the entire plot before moving on to the traditional 'trying to kill the protagonist' portion of the evening, because apparently even evil wizards felt the need to monologue before attempting murder.

But the truth was…. He hadn't realized he had leaned forward in his seat too.

Emma, had gone completely still too.

Just both of them, held captive in the same spell.

Back of Quirrell's head, talking, the mouth moving where no mouth should exist.

The voice didn't roar, but slick, persuasive, almost intimate - offering Harry everything.

"Bring back your parents… give me the stone."

Harry didn't answer.

Instead, he started wrestling with Quirrell and then... well, killed him, really.

Then Voldemort turned into smoke and flew through Harry's stomach and out the door.

That's how it was supposed to be - a little magical fire here and there, nothing too elaborate.

But the fight looked incredibly amazing.

Like how a real magical duel show is supposed to be.

It wasn't lengthy, and nothing extra was added to it was exactly as David remembered from the book.

But somehow, seeing it on screen made it feel so much more intense and visceral.

"Why does this scene look so great now?" David wondered to himself, genuinely impressed despite his earlier cynicism.

…and soon Quirrell burned, like actual, real pain was being inflicted, not with special effects but with sheer belief.

The camera didn't flinch either.

Then Voldemort, the presence, the parasite, slipped free from the disintegrating form in a burst of soundless dark vapor, it didn't exit with a scream instead it passed through Harry, right through him, like a soul threading a needle.

And for a split second, everything was still.

Even Emma jumped when the light returned.

Then came the hospital wing - quiet, sunlit, sterile.

Dumbledore was already there, perched casually beside Harry's bed, like some half-retired grandfather who had just wandered into the wrong grandchild's room and decided to stay.

He leaned in, stole a few sweets off Harry's side table like it was a perfectly normal thing to do, and launched into a monologue that danced between love, sacrifice, the protection of a mother's blood, and, somehow - Harry's skin.

David beside Emma let out a small breath of laughter, shaking his head.

What was that even supposed to mean?

He wasn't entirely sure Dumbledore himself knew. But the way he said it, with that effortless, honey-wrapped certainty, you just nodded along and believed him anyway.

Like some ancient storyteller who didn't need to make sense as long as he made you feel.

And then, all at once, school was ending.

He barely noticed the transition.

One second it was that odd, beautiful ramble from Dumbledore, and the next, they were in the Great Hall again.

But it wasn't the same Great Hall.

They had seen it before, sure, but never like this.

Something was different now.

The angle, maybe?

Or the candles floating a little higher.

Or maybe it was just the way the camera moved - gliding gently past the trio, then lifting, catching the whole room in a single breathless sweep.

It didn't serve the story.

The plot was already wrapped, but it lingered for just a moment, like a sigh at the end of a good book.

A fleeting snapshot of childhood before it all moved on.

And that made it everything.

The Slytherins were celebrating, for now at least, their banner hung proudly, the green glowing against the stone walls.

Draco was grinning, for once, he looked like a kid who'd finally gotten what he wanted.

But then came the twist.

Dumbledore, with that familiar sparkle in his eye, cleared his throat, just a few more points, he said, almost offhand.

Five for Neville for standing up to his friends, ten for Ron, ten more for Hermione... and a solid, heavy forty to Harry.

The man beside Emma leaned in slightly and muttered.

"Oh come on." But his voice carried a smile, he didn't really mean it.

Beside him, Emma lit up like someone had whispered a secret spell into her chest, her little fists pumped once in the air as the Gryffindor banner dropped from the ceiling and the music lifted with it, grand and bright and unashamedly joyful.

Hats flew, arms went up, it was absurd and a bit chaotic.

But it was absolutely perfect.

And then - the train.

The scarlet engine hissed on the platform, steam curling into the sky like the memory of magic not ready to leave just yet.

Harry leaned out the window, waving, saying his goodbyes, his eyes were different now, older and braver.

And just like that - he was gone.

Back to the abusive family, to the cupboard, and to the only world that didn't believe in magic.

The theater lights slowly began to rise.

Emma didn't move right away, she curled into her seat, knees hugged to her chest, eyes wide and distant like her heart hadn't quite caught up to the end credits.

David didn't speak either, just glanced at the screen, then down at her, then back again.

It was at that moment that he knew he was going to watch this movie multiple times, but...

"It actually might not be that bad." He said under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.

Harry Potter, the kid who lived under the stairs, had just carved out a small, stubborn place in his heart.

Made himself at home.

Yeah, it was supposed to be a kids' movie.

But as he stood up, brushing popcorn crumbs off his jeans and offering a hand to Emma, he understood what Regal had really made.

It wasn't just a movie.

It was a key.

To a world that reminded you why wonder mattered.

And as Emma grabbed his hand with quiet joy, he squeezed it once, gently. "Ready?"

She nodded, still dreamy-eyed.

They stepped outside into the real world again.

It looked the same as before.

But something about them had changed.

And the magic?

That was going to stay with them for a very, very long time.

Forever.

.

….

[To be continued…]

★─────⇌•★•⇋─────★

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