A/N: Carolyn - Thanks for the note! I can't send you a message because you left a guest review, but actually yes, the Jett Jackson movie inspired the original version of this story! But in truth, I don't remember the movie now and can't say that it is similar besides the switching concept! Hope you stick around! :)
Disclaimer: Everything Harry Potter belongs to our queen, JK Rowling!
Otherwise, this story is a work of fiction, and any non-HP original characters, their names and adventures are purely a product of my imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and fictitious. This story does not take place in our Muggle world as we know it, but in a world entirely its own.
Chapter Ten:
Falling Deeper
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He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Returns
In the bloody aftermath of a violent attack on Hogsmeade on 31st October, which took the lives of several small children and their parents as they attended Halloween festivities in the village, the Ministry of Magic has shockingly reversed their previous position and announced the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named on Tuesday night. The official announcement was made by none other than Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Minister's shocking announcement was made to none other than the entire student body of the wizarding school, and was greeted with much alarm.
In light of Tuesday's events, the Daily Prophet can exclusively reveal that the deadly attack was carried out by Ambrose Travers, a convicted Death Eater who had been serving a life sentence in Azkaban for the murder of Marlene McKinnon and her family in 1981. Travers was able to escape the prison after the remaining majority of the Dementors guarding the inmates abandoned their posts to join the ranks of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Azkaban has since been brought back under Ministry control, but it has unfortunately been confirmed that several other high-profile prisoners including Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, Antonin Dolohov, and Augustus Rookwood have also escaped the prison.
After leaving the confines of Azkaban, Travers, who has since been recaptured and has confessed under the influence of Veritaserum, set out to reach his master, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, by way of Hogsmeade Village, where he destroyed several shops and cafes along the high street with a quick succession of blasting spells. The notable Three Broomsticks sustained heavy damage in the attack and many villagers were caught in the cross-fire. Thirty-four people were injured in the assault, and fifteen people were killed, eight of them children.
According to several eyewitnesses during the attack, Travers was taken out by several hooded persons in black cloaks who remain unidentified, after engaging in a spell-fight with two young men, who are said to have been wearing Hogwarts uniforms. While unconfirmed, reports indicate that one of the young men was none other than Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. Potter – who claimed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned last June and was responsible for the tragic death of Cedric Diggory – might well be the symbol of a new generation of witches and wizards who are willing to stand up to injustice, whether within our own governing body or brought about by outside forces, and take on the responsibility of doing the right thing.
Ella dropped the Daily Prophet and stared openmouthed at Harry.
"This is completely insane! I can't believe this happened. And you said Dan and Ron fought off this Travers asshole?"
"They did," Harry said. "Sirius gave me the rundown when he handed this over." He leaned down and picked up the newspaper, tucking it into his bag. It was the first day back on set after the accident and they stood in a small huddle in a hallway outside the on-set classroom, munching on croissants and washing them down with scalding tea. Robert frowned at them both.
"All those children," he said sadly, shaking his head as if to clear out the images the article had conjured up. "It's horrible. They must be devastated."
Harry nodded glumly, the croissant turning to cardboard in his mouth. When Sirius had relayed the events to him that morning, the undertone of sadness in his voice had hung around him like a heavy cloud.
"We were too slow," he had said. "We got there too late. And we almost lost Ron and Daniyel."
"It's not your fault, Sirius," Harry had told him. There was a lot of that going around lately. Diffusing blame.
"But, Harry," Ella said, correctly interpreting his silence, "Dan and Ron did what they could. I don't know that you could've done anything more... And besides, had you never switched places, you and Ron may have never been there to help at all." And it might have never happened to begin with, she added silently to herself, contemplating again the rift in their storylines.
"I know, you're right," Harry said, "but it's just so hard to sit back here and watch them put themselves in danger. Especially when I'm the one that Voldemort wants."
"Who cares what he wants," Robert said astutely. "Voldemort is a narcissistic, sadistic, and classist murderer, who's easily in the same league as Hitler, and it is not your fault that he chose to come after you, or your family, or your friends. So stop blaming yourself for everything already, Harry. Now come on, we have to get going. Once you see the schedule, you'll stop feeling bad for Dan. Or you won't have time to, at any rate."
Ten minutes later, as Harry sat between Robert and Ella and stared down blankly at the test in front of him, he had to admit that Robert had a point. He glanced over at Ella out of the corner of his eye as she scribbled on her paper.
"What the bloody hell," he mouthed, "is y=2x-5x+3?"
Ella glanced at him, shrugged, and tilted her paper in his direction. She had drawn a flower with a rain cloud and a lightning bolt over it and was shading in the petals with her pencil. Harry let out an exasperated breath and glimpsed over at Robert instead. He had created a complex-looking stack of calculations that Harry could make neither heads nor tails of.
Harry sighed, promised himself that he would grill Robert later and figure out the specifics of this strange thing called calculus, briefly entertained himself with the idea of Dudley sorting out these equations, and rested his chin on his hands as he stared blankly around the room.
It was a small room, with about ten students in it, who were all scribbling away at the tests before them. Ahead of him sat Draco – scratch that, Tim – who was focused intently on his paper. This was definitely going to take some getting used to.
Half an hour later, Harry followed Ella and Robert to the front, his test nearly entirely blank. He was the last one to hand it over to Mrs. Stevens, and she looked at it in confusion.
"Daniyel, what's this? I know you've been gone for a couple weeks, but we've been covering this material since April."
"I'm sorry," Harry said, guilt enveloping him once again. "I didn't have a chance to review this ever since the-the accident. And I can't seem to recall the equations."
"Of course," she said, as she picked up his test and flipped though the pages. "It didn't occur to me that you may have trouble remembering. I apologize. Why don't you review the material over the following week and I'll allow you to take a makeup test?"
"OK, thanks."
She crumpled up his test and threw it in the waste bin, and saw Ella's underneath.
"Ella!" she cried in frustration. "We've been going over this material since April! This isn't art class!"
"Right, but there was this accident, on set, and–"
Mrs. Stevens's eyes narrowed. "You will retake this test next week with Daniyel, and if you do not do better than this… drawing, then I will have to ask Carlos to take you off the schedule so you can spend more time on your studies."
"Fine," Ella huffed, and stalked out of the room. Robert gave Mrs. Stevens an apologetic look and followed Ella out to the hallway. Harry trailed after them.
"Why did you do that?" Robert asked Ella. She shrugged.
"Honestly, I don't really understand the material. And I don't see what I'm ever going to need it for. Even if I wasn't an actress, what possible profession requires you to solve for x?"
"Engineer?" he suggested. "Architect? Calculus Teacher? Never mind, I'll help you out… You too, Harry. I'm sorry; it didn't even occur to me you might not know this stuff. Do they really not teach any core classes at Hogwarts?"
"Thanks," Harry said. "Not really. We have English and Writing once a week, but I haven't done any maths since primary school. And that maths definitely did not have letters in it."
"Lucky," Ella sulked.
They turned to walk toward the soundstage and Tim stepped up alongside them as they made their way down the hall.
"Dan!" he said, grinning. "Welcome back!"
"M-Tim," Harry said, correcting himself quickly. He hoped his voice sounded pleasant; like he was talking to someone whose company he had enjoyed for years and not to someone who he dearly wanted to curse into oblivion. "Thanks. Er – how's it going?"
"All good here," Tim said. His voice was warm and pleasant, and hearing it come out of Draco Malfoy's mouth was exceptionally disquieting. "I suppose you've already heard, but all we've been doing is schoolwork. I'm excited to get back to the creative stuff. Today should be excellent! Hope you're up for it." He turned to Ella, plastering a smile on his face. "Hey, Ella! Wanna get dinner Friday?"
"Bye, Tim," she said and she rolled her eyes and hurried off ahead of them. Tim looked only slightly disappointed.
"Next time then!" he called after her. "See you in there, mates." He drifted away toward his dressing room.
"What was that about?" Harry asked.
"She's not a huge fan of Tim," Robert said, amused.
"Why not? He seems an awful lot nicer than the alternative," Harry said, thinking of Malfoy.
"He's nice," Robert shrugged. "But Ella thinks he's–"
"A player," Ella cut in, reappearing beside them. "He hooked up with Carly Yip. And Pari Patel. And Izzy Richards. All since production started this year! Could he be any more annoying? Pass."
"Ah," Harry said, trying to get the image of Malfoy and Cho Chang together out of his mind. Being on set was certainly going to prove to be interesting…
A little while later, Harry and Robert, now dressed in Gryffindor Quidditch attire, sat in front of mirrors in a bright room. Harry watched in wonder as a tall girl dressed in all black circled him, brushing powder onto his face. She paused in confusion when she got to his forehead.
"Did you already have your scar put on?"
"Uh… huh," Harry said.
"What? Who did it for you?"
"Er," Harry said, "It was – er – I got a tattoo."
Robert burst out laughing.
"I'm sorry, you did what?" she cried. "Carlos is going to have a fit!"
"Don't worry, Marlene," Robert said, when he had regained control of his voice, "It's temporary. I did it for him."
She rolled her eyes. "I don't even want to know. Whatever, it looks pretty good. I'll just leave it." She walked back towards her make-up kit, shaking her head.
When Harry and Robert stepped out onto the set, Robert was still chortling.
"I can't believe you said that," he choked as they made their way towards Ella.
"What else could I say?" Harry said reasonably. "It's not like she would've believed I drew it on with a pen..."
"What happened?" Ella asked, putting down her comic book and looking at them curiously. Robert told her. She started giggling uncontrollably. This made Robert laugh harder.
"OK, OK, I got it," Harry said. "I should've covered it up." But his concession fell on deaf ears, so he stepped away from them and the racket of their laughter to look around the set.
The setup was astonishing. The space was large and open, and freezing cold. He saw camera rigs everywhere he looked. Large lights were hanging from a grid on the ceiling. Portions of the space were sectioned off and enclosed with large green backdrops. One corner was entirely blue. He saw robotic setups around the room. There were several brooms attached to metal arms near the colorful backgrounds. The place was teeming with people; they were walking back and forth throughout the space, adjusting equipment, and congregating around large monitors with complex data displayed on the screens. He stared around, suddenly feeling exceedingly lost. Robert and Ella had prepared him for this as best as they could, but he still felt so incredibly out of place that he wondered if going up against Voldemort again might actually be an easier challenge.
"Don't worry, it's going to be fine," Robert said, and Harry saw that he had stepped up alongside him, his face now semi-serious. "It's actually pretty fun."
Just then a tall man approached them. He was thin, with olive skin and dark hair that was just long enough that it was beginning to curl. He wore narrow glasses that were thinner and more rectangular than Harry's, and his face was lit up in a huge smile.
"Daniyel!" he said, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "I'm so glad you're back! How are you feeling? Back to 100%, I hope?"
"Hi, Carlos," Harry said, flashing back to Ella's binder as he recalled the man's face. "I'm great. Glad to be back."
"Excellent. Absolutely excellent. We've gone over every inch of the set while you were gone, of course. Everything is in tip-top shape. The only way a light will fall down now is if you shoot it down yourself." He gave a short, booming laugh.
"I'll make sure not to throw any Bludgers at it then," Robert said seriously.
"Ah, Robert," Carlos laughed again. "Already in character. Excellent. Now we need you on the trampoline. If you can just head over there? Great. OK, and Daniyel, let's get you on the Firebolt for the Quidditch match, if you're ready?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," Harry said nervously.
"Excellent," Carlos said again, not noticing his tone. "Come on then."
Harry followed Carlos toward a large section of green. He glanced back at Ella as he walked away and she grinned at him, mouthed "good luck," and hid behind her comic book once again.
Harry climbed onto the mechanical broomstick and tried to find a comfortable way to sit. It felt nothing like his Firebolt, but he grabbed on and adjusted his feet as best he could. As he sat there, surrounded by blank green walls on three sides, bright lights flared up around him. He squinted, trying to see past them. The lights generated an incredible amount of heat as they beamed down at him and within minutes he was feeling toasty despite the freezing cold air. A powerful fan was turned on, sweeping Harry's robes dramatically behind him and blowing his hair back from his face.
"We're going to get a few takes of you circling the pitch first, keeping an eye out for the Snitch," Carlos said. "After that, we'll do the Bludger dodge, and then the dive. Sounds good?"
"Sure, great," Harry said, adjusting his hands tightly on the broom handle.
The camera started rolling, and Carlos called, "Action!"
The broom jerked sharply and Harry nearly slid off, caught off guard despite his expectations.
"Cut!" Carlos called, and the broom jerked to a stop. "Everything OK, Daniyel?"
"Fine, sorry!" Harry said, his face turning red.
"OK no worries, let's reset and go again."
The broomstick evened out and dropped back into starting position. As Harry squinted past the lights, he could see a young woman dressed in all black adjusting the controls that brought the broom to life. He shifted his hands again, mentally preparing himself for the motion, and when the camera rolled for the second take, he managed to hold on.
He fell into the memory of his last Quidditch match, of soaring around the pitch with the wind in his hair, as he tried to set his face into the best searching-for-the-Snitch expression that he had. He squinted around, the bright lights in his eyes, trying to imagine that they were teammates, or opponents, or spectators in the stands. The broom moved up and down on a pre-programmed path and he held on, swerving, dipping, and rising with it, trying to put intent into the motions – even though the whole experienced reminded him of when his Nimbus Two Thousand had almost thrown him off after he lost control.
It went on for hours. After soaring, they moved on to diving and dodging Bludgers, as Carlos had promised, and then to catching the Snitch. By the time they broke for lunch and Harry gratefully slid off the broom, he was covered in sweat, and in more pain than from Wood's five-hour training sessions. He hobbled over to the back of the soundstage, where the caterers had set up several steaming platters, and found Ella and Robert loading up on salad and baked chicken.
"How did it go?" Robert asked.
"It was interesting," Harry panted. He grabbed a bottle of water and chugged the whole thing in one gulp. "I can't imagine how me sitting on that thing in that green box is going to look like Quidditch," he added quietly.
"Oh you'll see," Ella said. "It's really very cool. I know you said you don't want to read the books, but Rob and I can show you some Quidditch scenes from the earlier films, if you're interested."
"Yeah, maybe."
"Can you imagine," Ella said quietly, as they walked toward an empty corner of the soundstage with their plates, "what the fans would do if they found out it was actually Harry Potter on the broom?"
"Oh, they would lose it," Robert said.
"They'd definitely lose it," she agreed.
"I wish people would stop finding my life so interesting," Harry said. Ella and Robert burst out laughing again. "And I'm pretty sure I'm a lot better at actual Quidditch."
Ella and Robert looked at each other wistfully.
"Real Quidditch, Ella, can you imagine?" Robert said.
"Please, they barely even let me ride the fake broomstick," she said, rolling her eyes. "I wish."
Harry grinned. And as he rubbed his sore muscles, he found that he wished for it too.
Daniyel swerved in and out of the goal posts as he flew over the Quidditch pitch. It was the first match of the year: Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff.
Twenty minutes of playing time had passed without much incident. Gryffindor was leading by sixty points. Ron had defended all but two goals. The Snitch hadn't been spotted yet. Daniyel swooped high above the field, keeping an eye out for the glint of gold. He could not, by any means, claim to be performing at Harry's standards. But if he didn't catch the Snitch, well… he didn't want to be responsible for Harry's first failure on the Quidditch pitch.
"Katie Bell has the Quaffle," Lee Jordan called, as Daniyel made another careful turn by the Gryffindor goal posts. "Passing to Alicia Spinnet. Back to Bell. Will this be Gryffindor's ninth goal?" Daniyel streaked past Ron, the wind blowing back his hair, as the stadium exploded in cheers and boos. Katie had scored.
"Nice!" Ron called, pumping a fist in the air. Daniyel grinned, but kept both hands firmly on the Firebolt. No point in tempting fate. He flew towards the opposite side of the pitch, shooting past the Hufflepuff seeker, Jack Summerby, who was flying in the other direction. He felt like he was finally starting to get the hang of flying. It was an amazing feeling.
As he turned again, he felt a rush of adrenaline in the pit of his stomach. The Snitch. It was level with him, about a third of the field away. Summerby was still on the opposite side of the pitch and Daniyel was sure he hadn't seen it yet. He started making his way back towards the center of the pitch, keeping his pace as casual as possible. He didn't think he could outfly Summerby, but he was an actor, after all. All he had to do was keep a good poker face, or more accurately: a poker fly. If he was careful, Summerby need never know he had seen the Snitch at all. It wasn't the most exciting way to catch it, and Harry probably would have darted straight for it, but Daniyel would be perfectly content with simply catching it at all. He was twenty feet away when it darted suddenly upward.
"Crap!" he cried, and shot up after it. It was so close. He couldn't lose it.
"Look's like Harry Potter's seen the Snitch!" Lee Jordan shouted in excitement. "Potter is giving chase. Jack Summerby's close behind. This is the first game of the season, and it's been too long since we've seen a spectacular Potter Snitch capture! Of course, Potter's been keeping up with his flying skills last year; dodging dragons and spurts of flame, so a slow moving Snitch should be no problem for him."
Daniyel shot up after the golden ball, trying to block out Lee's voice, which was saddling him with the weight of unfulfilled expectations.
"Summerby's a newbie on the Hufflepuff team," Lee Jordan informed the crowd. "For a first timer on the pitch, he's doing surprisingly well. But of course, we all doubt he's going to give Potter a run for his galleons. Speaking of galleons, has anyone else got a wager on the match, because I bet–"
"JORDAN!" Professor McGonagall called angrily. "There is no gambling allowed at Hogwarts!"
"Right you are, Professor! Looks like Summerby's catching up to Potter. Uh oh, here come Megan Jones and George Weasley, fighting for control of a Bludger. They're closing in on Potter and Summerby!"
Daniyel was inches from the Snitch. Summerby was only a foot or so behind him. He was level with the golden ball. With a rush of excitement, he reached out to grab it.
And suddenly, with a resounding crash, his broom pitched forward, and Daniyel was flung headfirst into empty air.
He heard the roar of a hundred screams, George Weasley's hurried curse, and Summerby's surprised gasp all at once before all sound was cut off as suddenly as if someone had flipped a switch and muted the volume. For a second he was suspended in slow motion, in silence, twirling through the air, and he saw the Snitch in front of him. He began to fall as he gained momentum. He wasn't sure why he didn't feel afraid, but all he was aware of was the golden ball before him. He reached out, his motions painfully slow, and closed his fingers around it. He felt the cold metal of the ball press into his hand, and with it, a feeling of accomplishment. And relief. He had it. It was a win for Gryffindor. He had done it; had kept up Harry's record.
And just as suddenly, the moment was over, and the wind screamed in his ears as he tumbled down to the pitch.
He grasped wildly for the Firebolt with his other hand and just managed to grab the tip of it with his fingers, but he was going down too fast and didn't have the arm strength to maintain his hold. His hand slipped off with a painful burn and he was freefalling once again.
"Harry!" George cried, racing toward him, his voice oddly distorted. "Hang on!"
Daniyel saw George flying toward him out of the corner of his eye, with Fred close behind, and the Hufflepuff Beater – Megan Jones – chasing after them, but they were all very far away, and the ground was getting closer by the second. He reached out wildly with his hands, trying to grab anything that might be useful, when he suddenly felt pain explode out from his chest as something hit him hard below his right shoulder. On pure instinct, he squeezed both arms around it. He slowed down considerably and now seemed to be drifting toward the ground at a less breakneck pace. His ears started working properly again and he began to make out individual phrases from the crowd. Lee Jordan was beside himself.
"After a Bludger throws him off his broom, Harry Potter catches the freaking Snitch and then breaks his fall with the same freaking Bludger! Gallopin' Gorgons! Now that's what they call badass, ladies and gentlemen! Holy–!"
Professor McGonagall was ignoring Lee and his foul mouth, and attempting to aim her wand in Daniyel's direction. He saw her relax visibly as he slowed down in his descent.
He glanced down nervously and confirmed that his lifeline was, indeed, a Bludger. He fought the impulse to release it as it continued to drift lower to the ground, his weight dragging it down. It was straining against him, however, and as he neared the ground, it began to gain momentum despite his weight and started to rise back up. He glanced down at the ground and judged that he was about eight feet up. For lack of a better idea, Daniyel gritted his teeth and let go of the Bludger.
He tried to keep his knees bent, but when his feet hit the ground the force of the impact exploded painfully through his legs either way and knocked him over sideways. He covered his head with his hands as he fell, like they had taught him on set during stunt training. He lay on the ground as the adrenaline wore off, and pain started to throb in every region of his body. He focused on the fluttering wings of the Snitch as they beat weakly against his palm and tried to block it out.
There were loud thuds on the ground and a moment later the Gryffindor team had surrounded him.
"Harry!" Angelina cried, dropping down beside him. "Are you OK?!" He barely heard her over the din of the crowd.
"I'm great," he ground out through gritted teeth. He pushed himself to a sitting position and held out the Snitch, grinning widely despite the burning pain all over his body.
"Bloody brilliant!" Ron yelled, clapping him on the back. Daniyel winced. "Whoops, sorry, mate!"
"Harry," Fred said, grinning at him. "Very impressive. One of your best captures for sure."
"But this thing where you keep falling off your broom," George added. "Stop doing it."
"Definitely agree!" Angelina said seriously, but she was grinning widely.
Just then Madam Hooch and Professor McGonagall pushed their way through the circle surrounding him.
"Potter!" Professor McGonagall said anxiously. "Are you all right? Off to the hospital wing. Come along now. You can all celebrate later."
And as he hobbled after Professor McGonagall for yet another visit to the hospital wing – with the Gryffindor team around him like a retainer, and screams of approval still ringing in his years – Daniyel couldn't help but smile.
For the first time since he had gotten here, he actually felt like he belonged at Hogwarts on his own merit.
A/N: Another Daily Prophet article for y'all! :P
The set scene was a lot of fun to write! If you guys are at all curious, most of the details for that came from google research, a visit to the WB Studio Tour in London, and my mostly limited video production background. I'm a video editor and I've done a fair amount of shooting, but never really on a high budget film set, so I can only imagine what they get up to, but all their cool tech makes my monopod look terribly silly. Haha.
Anyway I hope you guys enjoyed this happier chapter! Thanks as always for liking, reading, following, and reviewing! Just the fact that any of y'all are interested in this quite literally makes my day. And remember, I love reviews, please leave one! (Don't make me beg, I'm an adult, dang it! Adults don't beg! Just kidding, please do leave one! :P)
Rina