Hollywood: Lights, Ink, Entertainment!-Chapter 348: GOF Release (3)

....

The screen went ocean-dark.

Harry kicked deeper into the Black Lake, and the 3D made it look like he was dropping into a hole with no bottom, just black water stretching down and down into nothing.

Emma’s whisper barely made it past her lips. "Where does it end?"

Fish drifted through the murk.

Some passed so close Marcus could see their scales, and could make out individual fins. Others floated way back in the distance, pale and ghostly, like they were made of fog instead of flesh.

Then the merpeople came.

Didn’t move like anything Marcus had ever seen.

Their bodies twisted wrong, limbs bending at angles that made his stomach turn. And in 3D they surrounded Harry from every direction, sliding out of the darkness beside him, above him, from the deep water below that looked like it dropped straight to the center of the earth.

"I really don’t like those." Sam said, shrinking into his seat.

Emma nodded without looking away. "They’re awful."

Hostages floated in the water with their eyes closed, faces peaceful like they were just sleeping. And below them, in that endless black, something moved. Something big and dark and all wrong.

It shot up and grabbed Harry’s ankle.

Sophia gasped so loud the person in front of them turned around.

The camera yanked back into darkness so fast Marcus’s stomach lurched into his throat. For a second he forgot he was in a theater, it felt like he was the one being dragged down.

Tyler’s hands locked onto his armrest. "That was horrible. I hated everything about that."

....

The color started draining out of the world.

But it wasn’t all at once.. slowly.

Like someone was turning down a dial, pulling the life out of everything until the whole screen looked like those old black-and-white photos his grandma kept in shoeboxes, all grays and blacks and sadness.

The Portkey grabbed Harry and spun him. Around and around and around, and the 3D made Marcus’s head swim. His eyes couldn’t follow. Everything kept breaking apart into pieces and snapping back together wrong, over and over until he felt sick just watching.

"Ugh." Tyler said quietly, pressing his hand to his stomach.

"Don’t even think about it." Jake said fast.

"I am not gonna throw up."

"You better not."

"I said I am not! Probably."

Harry slammed into the ground hard enough that Marcus felt it in his chest.

Tombstones rose up through thick fog. In 3D, some stood close enough to touch, others disappeared way back into the mist, and it made the graveyard stretch out forever in every direction, huge and empty and so lonely it hurt to look at.

"Kill the spare."

The voice slithered out of nowhere, from everywhere, and Marcus’s hand shot out and grabbed his dad’s arm before he could think about it. His fingers dug in tight.

Green light split the darkness.

Cedric dropped like someone had cut all his strings at once.

Harry’s scream tore through the theater.

Sam already had his tissues out, his eyes were wet and getting wetter.

The cauldron bubbled and smoked, and something started forming inside the steam - a shape, a body, a person.

Marcus wanted to look away, at least tried to look away. His eyes wouldn’t let him.

Peter Pettigrew shook so hard the knife rattled in his hands. He looked like every part of him wanted to run, but his legs had forgotten how to work.

Then the hand came out.

Marcus’s breath stopped.

The fingers were too long, stretched out like someone had pulled them.

The skin was too white, not just pale, or sick-looking.

Like it had never seen the sun and was supposed to even exist.

A face pushed through the shadows, but not all of it.

Just enough to see it was Voldemort and to know he was real now, solid, here.

Red eyes opened.

They looked out at the audience.

In 3D, they looked through the screen, and Marcus could swear, could absolutely swear, they were looking right at him.

...and only at him.

Tyler’s hands clamped down on his knees so hard his knuckles went bone-white.

Jake had turned into stone, completely frozen.

Sophia’s brain, which never stopped analyzing and cataloguing and making sense of things, just shut down entirely.

Emma forgot she was holding her notebook...

Sam gripped his tissues like they were a shield that could actually protect him from something.

Marcus forgot how breathing worked.

"I can touch you now."

Voldemort’s voice crawled into Marcus’s ears and nested there, and he knew he would hear it in his head for weeks.

The whole theater held its breath, nobody moved or made a sound.

....

The film shifted into high gear.

Harry fought back, spells firing in streams of color, light exploding across the screen in reds and blues and greens.

Dragons wheeled overhead, wings so massive they blocked out the sky entirely.

The maze shifted and rearranged itself around Harry while he ran, walls sliding into new positions, paths that had been there a second ago suddenly leading nowhere.

Dumbledore’s face filled the screen. Those eyes that saw everything, that knew what was coming even when nobody else did.

The Triwizard Cup burned brighter and brighter, gold light spilling out until it hurt to look at.

Fire and shadow twisted together, bleeding into each other until Marcus couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

Harry’s wand connected to Voldemort’s.

Golden light shot out of both and met in the middle, and in 3D it looked like it was streaming straight into the audience. Marcus could swear he felt warmth on his face.

Faces flashed across the screen, one after another.

Ron. Hermione. Hagrid. Sirius.

All the people Harry loved. All the people worth fighting for and staying alive for.

Then Richard Harris as Dumbledore appeared, and something in the theater changed.

"Dark and difficult times lie ahead."

His voice was warm and steady.

It sounded like every grandfather who had ever told a bedtime story, every teacher who had ever made you believe you could do something you thought was impossible.

"Soon we must all face the choice between what is right, and what is easy."

His face stayed on screen.

Just a few extra seconds, long enough that Marcus understood without being told - this was the last time.

The last time they would see him like this or hear that voice.

Marcus’s throat closed up.

He didn’t understand why but it did, tight and hot, and his eyes started to sting.

His dad’s hand found his shoulder and squeezed gently.

Marcus looked up. His dad’s eyes were shining, wet at the edges.

"Dad?" Marcus whispered.

His dad tried to smile but it didn’t quite work. He shook his head like he couldn’t get words out.

All around them, grown-ups were crying and trying to be quiet about it. Some weren’t even trying. Marcus heard sniffles, heard someone blow their nose a few rows back.

....

For what felt like forever, nobody moved, the whole theater sat frozen.

Then the applause came...

It didn’t start slow, instead it was wild from the start.

The Helper Squad sat there, still half-lost in what they had just experienced.

Tyler opened his mouth. "That was—"

"Yeah!" Jake said.

Sam tried. "The dragon—"

"I-" Sophia said softly.

Emma whispered. "When Cedric—"

"Haa..." Marcus said, barely getting the word out.

The credits started rolling. Names scrolling up the screen in white letters on black.

So many names.

Marcus had never thought about how many people it took to make something like this, hundreds and thousands.

People who built sets and sewed costumes and painted backgrounds and wrote music and did a million other things he’d never even considered.

His dad leaned down. "You boys ready to head out?"

Marcus looked up at him. "Can we stay? Just till the end?"

His dad blinked, surprised. Then his expression softened. "Sure, kiddo. We can stay as long as you want."

So they sat.

While other people filed out, gathering coats and discussing the movie, the Helper Squad stayed planted in their seats and watched every single name scroll past.

Set designers, costume makers, visual effects supervisors, music composers, assistant directors, second unit camera operators, catering staff... and more.

Then, near the end, after the directors and producers and big-name actors, but before the copyright notices and legal text that nobody ever read:

[This film is dedicated to the memory of–

["Richard Harris" | "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore"]

- ["It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."]

[Rest In Peace]

....

[SPECIAL THANKS:

[The Helper Squad: Marcus Thompson, Jake, Emma, Tyler, Sophia, Sam, and each fan across the magical world]

....

For reminding us why we make these films.

Marcus saw it first.

His hand shot out and smacked into Jake’s arm without him even looking away from the screen.

"Ow—what’s your—" Jake looked where Marcus was staring. His mouth fell open so wide Marcus could see his back teeth.

"Guys." Jake said, and hit Tyler’s arm.

"What!" Tyler looked. His eyes went huge. "Oh my god. Oh my god. GUYS."

One by one they all saw it.

Emma’s hand flew up and covered her mouth. Her eyes went wide and bright.

Tyler sat up so straight and so fast he nearly launched himself out of his seat.

Sophia started blinking really fast, trying to keep tears from spilling over.

Sam didn’t even try. He just cried, using his tissues, not caring who saw.

Their names, actually there, on the screen.

In a real Harry Potter movie that millions of people would see.

"We made it in." Marcus whispered. Could barely get the words past the lump in his throat.

"We’re in Harry Potter." Jake said, louder.

"OUR NAMES ARE IN HARRY POTTER." Tyler shouted, and he didn’t care at all that his voice echoed.

"Tyler, shhh!" Emma said, but she was grinning so big it had to hurt. "There’s still people here!"

"I DON’T EVEN CARE! WE’RE IN THE MOVIE! IN HARRY POTTER! FOREVER!"

Marcus turned to his dad. His dad was staring at the screen like someone had just handed him something priceless and he couldn’t quite believe it was real.

"Dad... look.... we’re actually.... we’re—"

"I see you, buddy." His dad’s voice came out rough and thick. "I see you."

"We’re really there."

"You really are." His dad’s hand squeezed his shoulder again, tighter this time, and when Marcus looked up his dad was smiling even though his eyes were wet. "You really, really are."

Marcus turned back to the screen, watching their names scroll up slowly, so slowly, until they disappeared into copyright notices and production company logos.

But it didn’t matter that the words were gone. It didn’t matter at all.

He had seen them, they had ALL seen them.

The Helper Squad. In Harry Potter. In the actual movie. Forever. Nobody could ever take that away.

Other people were leaving now, standing and stretching, talking about the dragon and the graveyard and Dumbledore’s final scene. Gathering jackets and phones and empty popcorn containers.

The Helper Squad didn’t move until the very last word scrolled past, until the screen went completely black, until the house lights came up full and bright and there was nothing left to see.

Only then did they stand.

Marcus looked at his friends.

Jake was grinning like it was Christmas morning and his birthday and the last day of school all rolled into one.

Emma was crying and smiling at the same time, tears running down her face while she laughed. Tyler stood up straight and tall like he’d just won a championship.

Sophia kept blinking, trying to get her face under control. Sam wiped his eyes with his tissues, not even trying to hide it.

"Best day of my whole entire life." Tyler declared, and his voice didn’t shake at all.

"Yeah." everyone else said at once. "Same."

....

Walking back to the car, they couldn’t stop talking. The words tumbled out in a tangle, everyone trying to talk at once, voices overlapping and interrupting and blending together.

"When the dragon’s tail came at us I thought my heart was gonna stop–"

"The graveyard made me forget how to breathe, I actually forgot–"

"That lake went down forever, it didn’t even have a bottom–"

"But our NAMES though, our actual real names–"

"We’re in it forever, like actually forever–"

"FOREVER, nobody can ever take it back–"

"We’re basically movie stars now, we’re famous–"

Marcus’s dad walked a few steps behind them, just listening. Watching Marcus use his whole body to demonstrate how the dragon had moved, arms spread wide like wings, swooping and diving. Listening to six kids talk over each other in pure joy, unable to get the words out fast enough.

He smiled and caught up to the group just as Marcus was trying to explain the 3D with increasingly wild arm movements.

"And it came RIGHT AT US." Marcus said, swinging his hand toward Jake’s face to demonstrate.

Jake batted it away. "I WAS THERE. I saw the exact same thing you did!"

"But wasn’t it incredible? Wasn’t it the most incredible thing you’ve ever seen?"

"It was the most incredible thing anyone’s ever seen." Jake said, and he meant every word.

They reached the car. All six kids piled in, still too wired to sit properly, still talking, still reliving every moment.

Marcus’s dad started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. The tires hummed on the pavement.

Marcus pressed his forehead against the cool window, watching the theater get smaller and smaller behind them, the lights shrinking into the distance.

Six months ago, he had written a letter.

Dictated it to his dad, who had typed every word exactly as Marcus said it.

...and they had mailed it off thinking, hoping, maybe, that someone might read it.

That someone might care and someone actually did, and remembered and cared enough to send tickets.

To give them this night and even going beyond put their names in the actual movie.

He thought about everything that had led to this moment.

Writing the letter and the tickets arriving.

Not believing they were real. His dad promised over and over that yes, they were real, this was actually happening.

Getting ready tonight, picking up his friends. The drive here with everyone too excited to sit still.

And then the movie itself.

The dragon that felt close enough to touch, the graveyard that made his heart forget how to beat right.

Dumbledore’s voice wrapping around them one last time. And six names on a screen that millions of people would see.

The Helper Squad. Marcus Thompson, Jake, Emma, Tyler, Sophia, and Sam.

In Harry Potter.

Forever.

The theater disappeared behind them, swallowed by distance and darkness and the city lights that filled the spaces between.

But Marcus knew he would carry this with him.

When he grew up and got a job, having kids of his own would get old like his dad.

...and get ancient like his grandpa.

When he was so old he forgot other things, he would still remember this.

The Helper Squad’s movie night.

The night they believed in something impossible and it came true.

The night they became part of Harry Potter.

Marcus smiled and settled back into his seat, listening to his friends argue about which part had scared them the most.

...but he didn’t join in. He just listened and smiled and looked out the window at the city sliding past.

They had offered to help, someone had listened.

And now they were part of something that would last forever.

That was pretty much the best thing in the entire world.

.

....

[To be continued...]

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