Hollywood: Lights, Ink, Entertainment!

….

In England - a theatre in London.

One the day of [Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone] release.

….

As the film hit theatres all over the world - specifically the theater in London was filled with kids outnumbered the adults two-to-one.

There were maybe forty, maybe even fifty children in the seats, not counting the half-dozen still fumbling with the cup holders or spinning in the aisle until one of the assistants gave them a soft nudge to sit down.

Overall the gathering seemed half oblivious to the fact that they were minutes away from watching themselves on the big screen.

It wasn't open to the public, this was a private screening of [Harry Potter and the Successor Stone] - arranged by Red Studio just for them.

Every child cast in [Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone] was here, from the stars with dozens of lines to the nameless students who had filled the hallways of Hogwarts with enough life to make it feel like a real school.

Most were accompanied by their parents, some with siblings, all chattering in soft clusters.

Regal stood at the back of the balcony near the exit door, his expression quiet but unmistakably fond. His eyes moved over the rows - children who had worked in the sets of [Harry Potter] for more than ninety days.

Nearby, the studio staff were handing out drinks and snacks.

"You are not going in?" came Simon's voice from behind.

Regal turned slightly but didn't take his eyes off the crowd. "I will join later, you handle the rest."

Simon snorted and started walking in. "Right. We all know you are not joining unless it's Gwen dragging you in by the collar - and since she is not here, guess you will just haunt the doorway like a sad vampire."

He patted Regal on the back as he walked past and added under his breath. "Just don't scare the kids."

He didn't give a chance for Regal to counter, already walking away.

Samantha, inside, was ticking something off on a clipboard, coordinating with the studio's PR handler and one of the teachers who had come along to supervise.

She gave Regal a glance from across the row, a silent acknowledgment - they both knew he wouldn't be taking a seat today.

It has become a habit now.

Not quite a tradition, but definitely something close.

He had started doing it during [The Hangover] screenings - watching the audience instead of the movie itself, catching the split-second expressions they made when something landed or didn't.

Watching people watch his work had become... comforting. Honest.

Well… unless Gwendolyn was there, she was the only one who could yank him away from the door and make him sit through his own films like a proper audience member.

But tonight, she wasn't around.

So, he was free to let his eyes move slowly across the seats.

He knew every kid there - maybe not like a parent would, but better than most directors could claim.

He knew their names, their favourite jokes, the tricks they pulled, the sweets they liked, the ways they sulked when they were tired and the little nudges that got them to smile again.

He was going to miss them.

In this world, not all the children were the same as the original cast he remembered from his world, most were new faces, brought together by fate or the butterfly effect of small changes.

But here and there, a few names, a few similarities, remained unchanged.

Like him.

His eyes finally landed on a boy a few rows down, white-blond hair, perfectly combed, sitting a little straighter than the others.

Tom Felton.

A grin tugged at Regal's lips.

Yes, Tom was still Tom. Draco Malfoy, then and now.

And now, down in the front third of the theater, Tom was laughing about something, surrounded by a few of the other kids.

None of them seemed to care who had the most lines or screentime, at that moment, they were just kids again, talking about their favourite bits, the weird snacks from set, or maybe even the time Rupert lost his shoe during rehearsal.

They were kids again, joking, elbowing each other, and sharing inside stories like they weren't in a world-famous blockbuster.

Speaking of Rupert, he was in the middle of a very animated re-telling.

Tom groaned in mock embarrassment.

The conversation had taken an unexpected turn.

They had just been talking about how Rupert got his role through a silly rap video his mom recorded on a camcorder in their living room - a fact that still cracked everyone up. But then someone asked about Tom.

That is when Rupert jumped in again, voice full of energy.

"Oh, oh, wait - you guys have to hear how this guy got the part." He said, pointing dramatically at Tom, who instantly groaned again.

"Nooo." Tom muttered, his cheeks reddening.

Rupert grinned wider. "So get this, he shows up for the audition, right? Hair gelled, shirt tucked in, total Draco energy already, but what he really wanted? He wanted to play Harry!"

A few of the kids laughed in surprise.

"But the biggest crime?" Rupert continued, enjoying the attention. "He hadn't read a single Harry Potter book! Not one! Not even the first one!"

"What?!"

"No way!"

The reactions were instant.

Tom raised both hands as if to defend himself. "I was going to! I just… hadn't gotten around to it."

"So how did he do the audition, then?" One of the younger girls asked.

Rupert leaned in like it was a campfire secret. "He just watched the kid who went before him and… It's true! He just stood there, saying the exact same lines the guy before him did."

The group burst out laughing, even Tom couldn't help but grin.

Rupert went on, clearly enjoying himself. "Yeah, so Regal asked him, 'So have you read the books?' and this guy - he lies, with a straight face - 'Oh, of course! Loved it' And I swear he had just asked me that question in the hallway five minutes before, because he didn't even know who Hagrid was!"

Tom covered his face with one hand, grinning through the embarrassment.

"I didn't lie exactly." Tom protested. "Also it worked right?"

"And that's how you got the role of Draco?" Another child asked incredulously.

Tom nodded, looking both proud and embarrassed. "Yes. Apparently, my ability to lie convincingly was exactly what they were looking for in someone playing a Slytherin."

The group dissolved into laughter again, and Tom couldn't help but join in. "The irony is that I ended up reading the books about fifty times during filming to catch up. Now I probably know them better than anyone here."

"Except Lily." Someone pointed out. "She probably had them memorized before she even auditioned."

"True." Tom agreed. "Lily makes the rest of us look like amateurs."

More laughter erupted, and even from where he stood, Regal could hear it.

That memory hit him suddenly.

That's right, that audition.

The reason Tom got the part wasn't his perfect delivery or his deep understanding of the source material, it was that he lied, charmingly, but convincingly.

And more than that - he had acted through it.

A kid who hadn't read a page, mimicking other auditioners with just enough arrogance, just enough sharpness to land the role that would stick to him for the rest of his life.

Back then, Regal hadn't even been mad about it.

He had found it funny, real, in a way, an actor pretending to be someone who had read the book? That was already half the job.

…

Soon, the theater lights dimmed and the studio logo shimmered onto the screen, Regal remained at the doorway, his silhouette just barely visible in the pale light bleeding from the screen below.

The Red Studios logo faded into a misty sky, and soon, Dumbledore appeared on Privet Drive.

The kids - especially the younger ones, leaned forward slightly, as this was their first time. And maybe it was the thrill of seeing it on the big screen or it was the knowledge that they were part of it they really are exited.

Regal let his eyes drift.

Near the middle row, he spotted the girl who had played Susan Bones, Cora, shy but sharp, who had once told him she wanted to be a director too.

Just behind her was the boy who played Seamus, nervously twisting the hem of his jumper, mouthing his own lines seconds before they played.

And right up front, as expected, was the trio.

Daniel, Rupert, and Lily.

Sitting close together, but with enough space between them to still be kids, not celebrities.

Daniel had his chin propped in his palm, eyes wide.

Rupert, as usual, had a cheek full of popcorn, already trying not to laugh at his own face.

And Lily... Lily leaned forward, elbows on her knees, so still and focused.

They all looked smaller somehow.

Not just younger, but less... formed.

Like watching a memory grow muscle in real time.

Regal found himself lingering on them a moment longer than the others. He remembered the first table read - the nervous giggles, the fumbled words, the way Daniel kept calling Hagrid 'Hadgrid' for a week straight.

And how far they had come since.

Below, the crowd burst into a quiet wave of laughter as Hagrid arrived on his flying motorbike.

Up near the wall, Simon leaned over to Samantha and whispered something that made her roll her eyes and smirk.

Regal could guess the joke even without hearing it.

Something about the beard budget.

He shifted his weight slightly, the polished floor cool underfoot.

The film continued, scene by scene, and from time to time, a moment would land just right and send ripples through the room - a laugh, a shared gasp, the occasional muffled 'that's me' from a background actor spotting themselves.

But then came one of Regal's favourite parts.

It was nothing major.

Just a single shot that meant nothing to anyone but him.

The castle.

Not the grand first reveal, but a quiet transition, a wide, slow push-in from across the Black Lake, it came between scenes, almost unnoticed.

But every time it played, Regal felt it.

That was the first time they had ever tried shooting the Hogwarts miniature in natural morning light. They had risked weather, angles, even fog, it took six hours to get the right moment, he had made them wait for it.

The studio hated that.

And now?

It sat there, tucked between lines of dialogue, and no one in the audience had any idea how hard it had been, but it was beautiful.

Regal exhaled through his nose, barely a smile, just... peace.

The film rolled forward, dragging everyone along with it… There was something undeniable about the momentum, it was a strange thing: knowing everything, seeing every beat, and still being swept away like it was fresh.

The final sequence came soon after, the Philosopher's Stone.

Quirrell's reveal.

The smoke-like escape of Voldemort.

And just like that - it was the hospital wing again.

Dumbledore stealing Harry's candy - still funny.

But something was different this time.

Regal realized it when he caught Samantha wiping the corner of her eye—just once.

Then that final feast.

That wide shot of the Great Hall - banners, candles, warm hues and soft robes.

He remembered arguing with the DP for a warmer lens temperature, against better judgement, because he didn't want it to look like a polished cathedral.

He wanted it to feel like home.

It did.

When the Gryffindor banner dropped, the entire theatre erupted in the same cheer it had been holding for the past two hours.

Hats in the air onscreen, arms half-raised in real life.

Even Simon muttered. "Alright, that one's earned."

Then the train.

The end.

Harry, head tilted out the window, wind in his hair.

The moment before goodbye.

The lights began to rise.

Regal stayed in place.

The kids began shuffling, the energy still buzzing through them like they hadn't realized it was over.

Some were bouncing, others a little dazed.

One or two had tears they didn't want to explain.

Samantha came back up to him, clipboard pressed to her chest.

"You staying?"

He nodded once. "Just a minute."

She gave him a look, understanding, then disappeared into the sea of studio staff and parents trying to usher their children out without losing track of their coats.

The theater emptied slowly.

And when at last it was just the soft hum of the projector winding down, Regal stepped forward, one row in.

He picked up a single paper Gryffindor hat left behind on a seat.

It was handmade.

Probably a spare, or a forgotten one.

He turned it in his hands, then gently folded it, slid it into his coat pocket, and made his way to the door.

The hall outside was louder now - life rushing back in.

But for a little while longer, Regal carried the hush of the theater with him.

Indeed, the magic was real.

It always has been.

.

….

[To be continued…]

★─────⇌•★•⇋─────★

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