Chapter 1-
Comedic Break.
Surrey, England
1995
I've always enjoyed Muggle movies.
I know, I know. Draco Malfoy, famous Muggle-hater, enjoys the top- grossing form of Muggle entertainment?
Did I say I found Muggles creative? No.
I watch them because they're funny.
Think about it. So much plot. Idiots trying to share their ideas through pictures but too lazy to draw, or even to use a regular camera. Wizards don't have movies.
They don't have cheesy lighting that costs half a million or surround sound or special effects.
Why bother? All we need are our wands, quills, and ink. Costs no more than 8 galleons. A lot less than 27 million dollars for a piece of crap from Hollywood, the "good" ones can range over 200 million.
200 million American Muggle dollars. Even my family's not worth that. Close, though.
So it's funny. I've watched every major Muggle film since I was 9. It's become sort of a comedic break for me.
Twice I week I go into a crowded room with poor lighting after practicing Quidditch and doing some homework, sit down in the middle with a bag of over-cooked corn completely saturated in a oily, greasy fake butter, a large bottle of water that I put a straw inside, and the only good Muggle invention ever- Junior Mints, or Pleasure in a little white and green box- and watch the latest "opus".
Piece of crap.
Piece of crap.
Piece of crap.
Muggles. You can learn a lot by what they find stimulating.
Oh no. Dinosaurs got lose.
Piece of crap.
"Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi!"
Piece of crap.
Crap, crap, crap.
But it's funny. They are so proud. It's worth the money for a ticket just to watch Muggles blowing each other up, running in fear, fucking, killing each other, falling in love as the women in the audience scream, "Oh, how romantic!", etc., etc., etc.
Point my finger at the screen when a Muggle dies. "Avada Kedarva." That's funny.
Watch how the audience reacts. Oh no, little girl, the big bad alien's going to get you! She screams. I laugh. Avada Kedarva her, too.
Father doesn't know I do this. One summer I snuck into a theatre, I was nine then, and I fell in love.
It's so damned funny! And yet, Muggles take their beloved media so seriously.
Hee hee hee. Ha ha ha ha!
Guy on screen dies. Point, Avada Kedarva. Laugh. Ignore stupid Muggles telling me to be quiet.
Previews are done. Grab a large handful of popcorn. Crunch. Loudly to annoy the Muggles.
Hmm. Wonder what I'm seeing? Aw, it's a piece of crap. Slurp my water through a straw to annoy them more.
Something weird. Don't understand the name. Crap. Crunch. Actor sucks.
Him, too.
Him, too.
Writer/director sucks.
Little girl next to me has Milk Duds, the single most loud and annoying candy ever made. Hard but overly chewy caramel gets stuck in your mouth, you have to smack it out. I steal them. Try one.
Smack smack smack. Slurp. New dud. Smack.
Muggles yell more. So rude.
"'Ey, I'm tryin' ta watch a movie 'ere!" I yell at them. Slurp. Try a Junior mint. Little waves of pleasure rush against my body. Mmm.
Plot is what? Plot is what?
Oh, goodie. Dark forest. Spooky.
Oh-so-original.
"My lord?" a voice, stereotypically shrill and cracking, says.
Honestly. Evil isn't so shrill always. I think my voice is melodic. Erotic, even. Not "Shrill" in the least.
"My Lord Voldemort?" Shrill continued. Huh. Original name. Slurp.
LORD VOLDEMORT?!? I spit my water on the man in front of me in shock, much to his annoyance.
"VOLDEMORT?! Father serves him!"
Several "Ssh!", one Muggle throws a cup.
Rude. Avada Kedarva.
Wonder who plays Father? Hopefully a white-blonde shrill. Mmm.
New shrill. "My Lord Voldemort, we have the wolf."
"Excellent. Do you still want your old high school toy when we're done with him?" Deep, evil, husky. Stereotypical.
"Please, my Lord. If you would be so generous."
"Avery, bring him in."
Avery?! A real Death Eater, and a lesser known! I would have been less surprised if he'd said "Malfoy".
"Malfoy, you shall have him back soon."
Well. Speak of the devil.
"Thank you, my Lord."
"Here is the werewolf, my Lord." First shrill.
Werewolf. Overly hairy, bound and gagged, big, hideous, evil-looking.
Or they could shock me three times in less minutes. Young, handsome dirty- blonde scholarly type, walking erect and unfettered. Slurp.
"Ah. Remus Lupin." Spit my water again. Four times!
"PROFFESSOR LUPIN?! DADA HANGS OUT WITH SIRIUS BLACK 'I LOVE POTTER' PROFFESSOR LUPIN?!"
"SSH!" Damned Muggles! Blow into straw to make bubbles. They hate that.
"Voldemort. I refuse." Hm. Good voice. Close to his real voice.
"I'd have assumed you of all people would say 'yes', Mr. Lupin, to be rid of your curse. You are what, 23?"
"21." At the height of Voldemort's power? Accurate.
"You received the curse at five?"
Lupin lowers his eyes. ".Three." Whispered. Crunch.
"Eighteen years." No shit.
"I do have a degree in education." Well put.
I always kind of liked Prof. Lupin. Maybe even more than Snape. But I'd never tell him that.
"I have the cure, Mr. Lupin."
"As well as my answer." Smack.
"Eighteen years is a long time. They say the wolf's personality is almost always dominant. It speaks to you, like you're schizophrenic but it's reality, and you don't speak aloud you just hide inside your own mind and watch as the wolf lives your life."
".Yes." Crunch.
"Join me and you can be rid of that."
"I can't. I won't. I-I'd do anything to get rid of this- Anything. Except."
"Join me?"
"Help you kill those I love. Peter. James and Lily. Little Harry. .Sirius."
Damned accurate.
"It must be hard. To love?"
".Yes." Crunch.
"The wolf tells you who to love."
"I love them with out it's permission." Cheesy. Very Lupin.
"But it won't let you say it. To tell them you love them? To tell Sirius Black you love him?"
Lupin started crying. "I- Oh God, if only I could tell him! Just- just an hour with out Moony, just so I can tell him how I feel, to tell him I know how he loves me back-"
He sank to his knees, hugging himself and sobbing.
Ha! Lupin and Black? Like they'd ever be a couple. Slurp.
"I can get rid of it."
"I just want to be alone. Without Moony."
Moony? Oh, yes. Snape told me about their little gang. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs.
I sat there and watched the rest of the movie in earnest.
Cute. Good wolfie. Shoo.
Continue on.
Potter must be thrilled. Even the Muggles have a movie about his rise to fame. Shame his Muggle family won't let him see it.
But no. It goes back to their little gang.
The Potters die. Accurate.
Voldemort's fall. Accurate.
Damn. Definitely Muggle made, but how is it so realistic?
Black vs. Pettigrew.
Ha. Black was guilty.
But he probably did say things like that.
What's with that Muggle? Why is he playing with that car?
End. "We Muggles deserve to know."
No you don't.
The little girl smiles at me.
"What?"
"A wizard!"
Aw.
"Look, Mommy! He's a wizard too!"
"He is not, honey."
"Is too! He's blonde like that mean one!"
"So are lots of people. Face it, dear, we're all just these 'Muggles'. He's not a wizard."
"Am too!"
"Dear, please don't encourage her."
"He's got a wand!"
I hold it out. "Sure do! It's a nice one." Bright kid. No Avada Kedarva.
"Please stop this."
"But I am! My name's Draco Malfoy, like the blonde guy, Lucius. Who's actually my father- the real one, not the movie one. Sirius Black is that convict who escaped two years ago, Harry Potter's a classmate of mine at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and Professor Remus Lupin taught Defense Against the Dark Arts- DADA- my third year there." Pause. "He's not really gay, I think. Nor was my father. I mean, look at me. I'd never be here. But Lupin is a werewolf."
"Do magic!" She held up a doll.
"I'm not allowed." The mother smiled.
"But here." I turn the doll's hair blue.
"Magic! Wow!"
"How did you-"
"Don't tell, I'm underage." I start a small fire in the aisle and throw some powder in. "Mum!"
"Yes, dear!"
"I'm coming home!"
"Okay, the fire place is open!"
"Thanks, Mum!"
Floo powder.
Home.
Comedic Break.
Surrey, England
1995
I've always enjoyed Muggle movies.
I know, I know. Draco Malfoy, famous Muggle-hater, enjoys the top- grossing form of Muggle entertainment?
Did I say I found Muggles creative? No.
I watch them because they're funny.
Think about it. So much plot. Idiots trying to share their ideas through pictures but too lazy to draw, or even to use a regular camera. Wizards don't have movies.
They don't have cheesy lighting that costs half a million or surround sound or special effects.
Why bother? All we need are our wands, quills, and ink. Costs no more than 8 galleons. A lot less than 27 million dollars for a piece of crap from Hollywood, the "good" ones can range over 200 million.
200 million American Muggle dollars. Even my family's not worth that. Close, though.
So it's funny. I've watched every major Muggle film since I was 9. It's become sort of a comedic break for me.
Twice I week I go into a crowded room with poor lighting after practicing Quidditch and doing some homework, sit down in the middle with a bag of over-cooked corn completely saturated in a oily, greasy fake butter, a large bottle of water that I put a straw inside, and the only good Muggle invention ever- Junior Mints, or Pleasure in a little white and green box- and watch the latest "opus".
Piece of crap.
Piece of crap.
Piece of crap.
Muggles. You can learn a lot by what they find stimulating.
Oh no. Dinosaurs got lose.
Piece of crap.
"Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi!"
Piece of crap.
Crap, crap, crap.
But it's funny. They are so proud. It's worth the money for a ticket just to watch Muggles blowing each other up, running in fear, fucking, killing each other, falling in love as the women in the audience scream, "Oh, how romantic!", etc., etc., etc.
Point my finger at the screen when a Muggle dies. "Avada Kedarva." That's funny.
Watch how the audience reacts. Oh no, little girl, the big bad alien's going to get you! She screams. I laugh. Avada Kedarva her, too.
Father doesn't know I do this. One summer I snuck into a theatre, I was nine then, and I fell in love.
It's so damned funny! And yet, Muggles take their beloved media so seriously.
Hee hee hee. Ha ha ha ha!
Guy on screen dies. Point, Avada Kedarva. Laugh. Ignore stupid Muggles telling me to be quiet.
Previews are done. Grab a large handful of popcorn. Crunch. Loudly to annoy the Muggles.
Hmm. Wonder what I'm seeing? Aw, it's a piece of crap. Slurp my water through a straw to annoy them more.
Something weird. Don't understand the name. Crap. Crunch. Actor sucks.
Him, too.
Him, too.
Writer/director sucks.
Little girl next to me has Milk Duds, the single most loud and annoying candy ever made. Hard but overly chewy caramel gets stuck in your mouth, you have to smack it out. I steal them. Try one.
Smack smack smack. Slurp. New dud. Smack.
Muggles yell more. So rude.
"'Ey, I'm tryin' ta watch a movie 'ere!" I yell at them. Slurp. Try a Junior mint. Little waves of pleasure rush against my body. Mmm.
Plot is what? Plot is what?
Oh, goodie. Dark forest. Spooky.
Oh-so-original.
"My lord?" a voice, stereotypically shrill and cracking, says.
Honestly. Evil isn't so shrill always. I think my voice is melodic. Erotic, even. Not "Shrill" in the least.
"My Lord Voldemort?" Shrill continued. Huh. Original name. Slurp.
LORD VOLDEMORT?!? I spit my water on the man in front of me in shock, much to his annoyance.
"VOLDEMORT?! Father serves him!"
Several "Ssh!", one Muggle throws a cup.
Rude. Avada Kedarva.
Wonder who plays Father? Hopefully a white-blonde shrill. Mmm.
New shrill. "My Lord Voldemort, we have the wolf."
"Excellent. Do you still want your old high school toy when we're done with him?" Deep, evil, husky. Stereotypical.
"Please, my Lord. If you would be so generous."
"Avery, bring him in."
Avery?! A real Death Eater, and a lesser known! I would have been less surprised if he'd said "Malfoy".
"Malfoy, you shall have him back soon."
Well. Speak of the devil.
"Thank you, my Lord."
"Here is the werewolf, my Lord." First shrill.
Werewolf. Overly hairy, bound and gagged, big, hideous, evil-looking.
Or they could shock me three times in less minutes. Young, handsome dirty- blonde scholarly type, walking erect and unfettered. Slurp.
"Ah. Remus Lupin." Spit my water again. Four times!
"PROFFESSOR LUPIN?! DADA HANGS OUT WITH SIRIUS BLACK 'I LOVE POTTER' PROFFESSOR LUPIN?!"
"SSH!" Damned Muggles! Blow into straw to make bubbles. They hate that.
"Voldemort. I refuse." Hm. Good voice. Close to his real voice.
"I'd have assumed you of all people would say 'yes', Mr. Lupin, to be rid of your curse. You are what, 23?"
"21." At the height of Voldemort's power? Accurate.
"You received the curse at five?"
Lupin lowers his eyes. ".Three." Whispered. Crunch.
"Eighteen years." No shit.
"I do have a degree in education." Well put.
I always kind of liked Prof. Lupin. Maybe even more than Snape. But I'd never tell him that.
"I have the cure, Mr. Lupin."
"As well as my answer." Smack.
"Eighteen years is a long time. They say the wolf's personality is almost always dominant. It speaks to you, like you're schizophrenic but it's reality, and you don't speak aloud you just hide inside your own mind and watch as the wolf lives your life."
".Yes." Crunch.
"Join me and you can be rid of that."
"I can't. I won't. I-I'd do anything to get rid of this- Anything. Except."
"Join me?"
"Help you kill those I love. Peter. James and Lily. Little Harry. .Sirius."
Damned accurate.
"It must be hard. To love?"
".Yes." Crunch.
"The wolf tells you who to love."
"I love them with out it's permission." Cheesy. Very Lupin.
"But it won't let you say it. To tell them you love them? To tell Sirius Black you love him?"
Lupin started crying. "I- Oh God, if only I could tell him! Just- just an hour with out Moony, just so I can tell him how I feel, to tell him I know how he loves me back-"
He sank to his knees, hugging himself and sobbing.
Ha! Lupin and Black? Like they'd ever be a couple. Slurp.
"I can get rid of it."
"I just want to be alone. Without Moony."
Moony? Oh, yes. Snape told me about their little gang. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs.
I sat there and watched the rest of the movie in earnest.
Cute. Good wolfie. Shoo.
Continue on.
Potter must be thrilled. Even the Muggles have a movie about his rise to fame. Shame his Muggle family won't let him see it.
But no. It goes back to their little gang.
The Potters die. Accurate.
Voldemort's fall. Accurate.
Damn. Definitely Muggle made, but how is it so realistic?
Black vs. Pettigrew.
Ha. Black was guilty.
But he probably did say things like that.
What's with that Muggle? Why is he playing with that car?
End. "We Muggles deserve to know."
No you don't.
The little girl smiles at me.
"What?"
"A wizard!"
Aw.
"Look, Mommy! He's a wizard too!"
"He is not, honey."
"Is too! He's blonde like that mean one!"
"So are lots of people. Face it, dear, we're all just these 'Muggles'. He's not a wizard."
"Am too!"
"Dear, please don't encourage her."
"He's got a wand!"
I hold it out. "Sure do! It's a nice one." Bright kid. No Avada Kedarva.
"Please stop this."
"But I am! My name's Draco Malfoy, like the blonde guy, Lucius. Who's actually my father- the real one, not the movie one. Sirius Black is that convict who escaped two years ago, Harry Potter's a classmate of mine at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and Professor Remus Lupin taught Defense Against the Dark Arts- DADA- my third year there." Pause. "He's not really gay, I think. Nor was my father. I mean, look at me. I'd never be here. But Lupin is a werewolf."
"Do magic!" She held up a doll.
"I'm not allowed." The mother smiled.
"But here." I turn the doll's hair blue.
"Magic! Wow!"
"How did you-"
"Don't tell, I'm underage." I start a small fire in the aisle and throw some powder in. "Mum!"
"Yes, dear!"
"I'm coming home!"
"Okay, the fire place is open!"
"Thanks, Mum!"
Floo powder.
Home.