….
America - Los Angeles.
October 15 | On the day of [Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets] release.
….
The cinema lobby buzzed with quiet energy - the kind that came with big-name releases and beloved franchises.
Posters for [Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets] lined the walls: Harry gripping a sword against the shadowy depths of the chamber, Ron and Hermione at his sides, Dobby's luminous green eyes watching from the corner.
"That's so cool, Uncle David!"
"Emma, you've seen this poster about fifty times already. But yeah, I agree."
The same uncle and niece who had seen [Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone] together last year - though David's perspective on these outings had shifted considerably since then.
He used to think the Harry Potter films were just kids' stuff, something to keep children entertained for a couple hours.
But after Emma had practically dragged him to that first screening, something changed.
He had left the theater quietly impressed - though he hadn't admitted it out loud at first, by how charming and genuinely moving it had been.
This wasn't just children's entertainment.
His gaming industry connections had only reinforced that feeling.
Recently, he had caught wind of a rumor: a Harry Potter game was in development, and the studio was actively recruiting.
What caught his attention were the specific qualifications they wanted - understanding of horror psychology, experience crafting unsettling content, puzzle design expertise.
Those weren't requirements for a children's game.
This was shaping up to be survival horror with fantasy elements.
And if things fell into place, he might actually land a spot on the team.
I will surprise her with that news, David thought, glancing at Emma with a slight smirk. Maybe I can even get an autograph from the author himself.
He had already sent in his application.
….
Anyway, one thing is for sure as he stood in line for tickets again with his niece - this time he was here not because she pleaded, but because he had agreed readily.
Somewhere between the chess pieces coming to life and Dumbledore's calm wisdom, he had found himself invested.
His niece, Emma - now ten years old, clutched his sleeve to the point where he felt like she would be a decent cast for the 'Hermione Granger' role if she was interested.
"We have got to hurry, Uncle David, the seats will fill up!" Emma pulled, as though missing the first second of the film would be a mortal sin.
They entered the dim cavern of the theatre, while David, balancing drinks and a tub of popcorn, followed her as she darted to the mid-rows.
Right, the so-called "perfect seats."
He sat, glanced around at the crowd: parents, teenagers, children - and, yes, plenty of adults without children.
He smirked. Maybe he wasn't the only grown man secretly pulled into this world.
The lights dimmed, the Red Studio's logo followed by another studio logo:
LIE Studio's.
Hmm, apparently that's the studio owned by the author himself, which he recently learned. David thought, recognizing the logo.
And right after few minutes the very name appeared, but under different category:
[Written By: Regal Serepahsial]
Trust him, when the name appeared, people shouted as if they were cheering for some A-List superstar actor.
Honestly he truly deserves it. David had no doubts, especially after watching a mind bungling superhero directorial film from the same dude, just a couple months ago:
[Spider-Man: Web of Destiny]
It was the first time he witnessed such an euphoria for a director. His friends were simply crazy about him, to the point they are even watching [Chamber of Secrets] some theatre right now.
Haa, he couldn't help but chuckle at their madness for a film in which Regal was only a writer.
Still, it would be a lie to say that he isn't looking forward to this. He felt it in his chest this time, not with the skepticism of last year but a kind of fond anticipation, of what might the team cook for them this time.
And lo behold, the film didn't disappoint him, right from the get go.
….
The camera swooped down on Privet Drive, neat and tidy under the summer sun.
Onscreen, Harry sat by the window of his bedroom, paging through a scrapbook.
He paused on a moving photo of Ron and Hermione.
A sudden squawk! Hedwig pecked impatiently at her cage.
–Harry mutters softly and sadly. "I can't, Hedwig. I am not allowed to use magic outside of school. Besides, if Uncle Vernon—"
Another squawk cut him off.
From the theatre's speakers boomed Vernon's voice:
–"Har-ry Pot-ter!"
A ripple of laughter spread across the audience.
David in the theatre chuckled quietly too - he remembered how much he despised these relatives already.
….
In the kitchen, Petunia presented a towering pudding of whipped cream and sugared violets, while Vernon wrestled Dudley's bow tie.
–Uncle Vernon pointed at Harry. "I warned you. If you can't control that bloody bird, it will have to go."
–"She's bored. If I could just let her out for an hour or two—"
Harry tried to reason, only to be cut off–
–"And have you sending secret messages to your freaky little friends?"
–"No, sir."
When Harry admitted he hadn't received a single letter all summer, the audience softened, a collective sigh rising.
Emma shifted in her seat. There was something uncomfortably real about the loneliness in Harry's voice.
–Dudley, smug as ever, chimed in. "Who would want to be friends with you?"
That's not true. The audience chuckled at the cruelty and vileness of Dudley's character.
The character is not being a comic relief anymore.
…..
Back in Harry's room, the audience tensed as he stopped short - a tiny creature with bulging green eyes was bouncing on his bed.
–"Harry Potter! Such an honor it is!"
"It's Dobby!"
A wave of delighted gasps filled the theatre. Children who already read the book giggled at the high-pitched voice, while the uncle, like who didn't know, leaned forward, intrigued by this odd newcomer.
Harry asked who he was, and the response truly stunned them:
–"Dobby, sir. Dobby the house-elf."
The elf's strange mix of devotion and self-punishment drew the audience in. When Harry kindly told him to sit down, Dobby burst into loud tears.
The theatre laughed, but it was nervous laughter - some adults winced.
When Dobby banged his head furiously against the floor, shouting "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!", the uncle flinched.
Emma pressed closer to the screen, eyes wide with pity.
Then came Dobby's warning, urgent whisper:
–"Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year."
A hush fell over the theatre.
Even those who hadn't read the books felt the sting of foreboding.
People found themself silently questioning:
Why? What danger?
….
The film shifted to the kitchen, where Vernon entertained the Masons.
Upstairs, Harry wrestled with Dobby.
Downstairs, the audience laughed as muffled bangs echoed.
Then the pudding floated through the air - teetering, wobbling.
–Harry added, pleadingly: "Dobby… Please… No…"
–However, Dobby didn't change: "Harry Potter must say he's not going back to school."
And with a snap of fingers, the dessert plummeted onto the guests.
The entire theatre erupted in laughter. Children squealed, popcorn nearly spilled. Even the uncle laughed aloud, shaking his head.
The mood shifted quickly when the Ministry owl swooped down with a letter, warning Harry about underage magic.
–Vernon's eyes gleamed cruelly. "I've got news for you, boy. I'm locking you up! You're never going back to that school! Never!"
David frowned deeply.
Truly, these acts weren't funny anymore.
He could feel the injustice simmering in his chest.
….
The montage of Vernon fitting iron bars over Harry's window and locking him in drew murmurs in the theatre.
Children whispered in dismay.
Harry sat alone in his barred room, ignored on his birthday.
His niece sighed beside her uncle, clutching a fistful of popcorn.
Then came the tapping on the window - and there was Ron, face peering in the dark.
The audience erupted in cheers.
David grinned despite himself.
….
The turquoise Ford Anglia hovered outside the window, Fred and George inside.
They tied a rope to the bars, revved the car, and - with a crunch - tore the metal clean away.
The audience laughed and applauded.
"That's clever." David nodded in appreciation.
As Vernon tried to drag Harry back, Hedwig pecked furiously at his hand, forcing him to let go.
Harry was pulled to safety as the car shot into the starry night.
–Ron wished: "By the way, Harry… Happy birthday."
The adults and children in the theatre couldn't help their eyes get watery at the warm scene.
….
The car descended through dawn's pink sky, landing before the crooked, ramshackle Weasley home.
Children in the audience gasped, delighted by the magical house.
Inside, magical objects worked on their own - the self-knitting needles, the family clock with chores instead of hours.
–Ron denies shyly: "It's not much."
–Harry was simply awestruck: "I think it's… brilliant!"
The niece smiled wide at that line, whispering. "See? He loves it."
David felt it too - a warmth, a sense of home he hadn't expected.
When Mrs. Weasley stormed in, furious at her sons, the theatre roared with laughter. But her tone shifted instantly when she turned to Harry.
–"Harry! How wonderful to see you."
David smiled. This type of writing and human emotions are the heart of the film - not the magic and fantasy elements, but the family.
Arthur Weasley entered, fascinated by Harry's background.
–"Tell me, what exactly is the function of a rubber duck?"
The audience laughed, the uncle among them. Again, this world charmed him more with its humor than its spells.
The scene closed with Hogwarts letters arriving, including Harry's.
Excitement rippled across the theatre.
Emma gripped her uncle's arm in glee:
Back to Hogwarts at last.
….
The scene closed with Hogwarts letters arriving, including Harry's.
Excitement rippled across the theatre, while Emma gripped her David's arm in glee:
Right, back to Hogwarts at last.
….
The screen flickered from the cozy, chaotic Burrow into a new scene: the entire Weasley family and Harry crowded around the wide fireplace.
Emma leaned forward, whispering quickly. "This is one of my favorite bits."
And just then Mrs. Weasley held out a pot of glittering powder.
–"You first, Harry dear."
She extended the flowerpot full of dust.
–Harry frowned. "Floo Powder?"
–Ron points out. "Harry's never traveled by Floo Powder before, Mum."
A chorus of amused chuckles spread across the theatre. Harry's wide-eyed confusion mirrored what many children in the audience felt.
Percy stepped forward, prim and composed.
–"Don't worry, Harry. It's simple enough."
He tossed a pinch of powder into the fireplace, and instantly, green flames roared high, lighting the theatre in emerald flashes.
–Percy calmly stepped into the fire. "Diagon Alley."
And he vanished.
Gasps scattered among the children in the audience.
David felt a ripple of admiration - the effect was seamless, and honestly watching different ways to get to the train is too fun.
Harry took his turn nervously, stumbling over the words.
–"D-Dia-gon Alley!"
He vanished in a swirl of roaring fire, spinning violently through the chimney-flue tunnels.
….
Harry tumbled face-first into Borgin and Burkes, a shadowy shop of sinister relics.
His glasses cracked, and the camera revealed cursed objects - the Hand of Glory, an opal necklace gleaming under a grim warning.
The audience murmured in unease. David shifted slightly, feeling the sudden tonal shift. It was darker than the first film had dared go.
When Lucius Malfoy appeared with Draco, the theatre stilled.
Jason Isaacs' cool, deliberate voice drew a quiet chill.
–"I'm not buying today, Mr. Borgin. But selling…"
David felt a tightness in his chest at Lucius' quiet disdain, and as in cure Emma muttered softly. "I hate him."
Harry barely escaped, darting out into the grim streets of Knockturn Alley, only to be cornered by a toothless witch with a tray of fingernails.
A ripple of disgust passed through the audience.
–Then Hagrid's booming voice rang out. "HARRY! What d'yer think yer doin' down 'ere?"
The theatre relaxed, children smiling again.
Relief washed through David too - Hagrid was an anchor of warmth.
….
The scene brightened as they stepped into Diagon Alley.
From the grand white steps of Gringotts, Hermione dashed forward, wand raised.
–"Oculus Reparo!"
Harry's glasses knit back together.
The audience gave a small cheer at her confidence, noting how she already seemed steadier than most adults.
–Hermione's enthusiasm bubbled. "Isn't it thrilling! Gilderoy Lockhart's going to be there! He's written almost the whole booklist!"
Her energy made several adults in the theatre chuckle knowingly.
David glanced sideways at his niece - she looked just as animated as Hermione did onscreen.
….
The camera cut to the crowded bookshop.
A massive moving poster of Lockhart gleamed in the window, his pearly smile almost blinding. Inside, women swooned.
–Mrs. Weasley said, fixing her hair. "There he is!"
–Ron scoffed. "Mum fancies him."
Laughter filled the cinema.
David grinned too, amused by the teenage cheek.
Then Kenneth Branagh as Lockhart appeared in full, sweeping Harry forward.
–"It can't be Harry Potter? Nice big smile, Harry. Together, you and I rate the front page!"
The audience laughed at Harry's mortified expression as books piled high in his arms.
–Lockhart continued booming. "Ladies and gentlemen! When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts this morning to purchase my autobiography Magical Me… he had no idea that he would, in fact, be leaving with my entire collected works! Free of charge!"
The crowd in the theatre howled with laughter at Lockhart's smugness.
David chuckled too, though he muttered under his breath, what a peacock.
….
The laughter dimmed when Draco sneered at Harry, and Ginny bravely defended him.
–"Look, Potter's got himself a girlfriend!"
Children laughed nervously, but David caught his niece stiffen - Ginny's embarrassment was sharp, real.
Then Lucius Malfoy glided in, smooth and venomous.
–He brushed Harry's scar with mocking familiarity. "Forgive me, Mr. Potter. But your scar is legend. As, of course, is the wizard who gave it to you."
–Harry's tone turned cold. "He was a murderer."
The entire theatre went quiet.
David found himself oddly proud of Harry's firmness, and admiration towards the child actor who pulled off such a sudden shift with easeness.
–Hermione, sharp as ever, cut across Lucius' disdain. "Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself."
Matching his thoughts, the audience responded with soft applause.
The tension peaked when Lucius insulted Arthur Weasley, mocking his poverty. Mr. Weasley nearly lunged at him, and Hagrid had to hold him back.
The theatre exhaled in relief as the Malfoys swept away.
David leaned back, thoughtful. This isn't just children's fare anymore. These villains have real weight.
….
.
[To be continued…]
★─────⇌•★•⇋─────★
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