Chapter 15: Enter the Sandman

Leavesden Studios, UK. September 2004.

If the thick rope binding me to an uncomfortable reaper headstone didn't clue me in enough, the fact that the same length of jute gagged me was a clear sign that the production team had likely tired of my smart mouth.

Nearly a month like this left lots of time for regrets and introspection.

‘Waaah!’ The sound of a child bursting into tears alerted the set. I craned my neck around the little I could and spotted my dear friend the script supervisor hurriedly consoling her young son.

Ralph Fiennes, in Voldemort’s horrendous glory, entered the stage.

In a rushed but efficient manner, the production staff set the stage with the same level of rehearsal that us actors had at this point.

[Voldemort stood still, shoulder hunched, eyes closed, where the cauldron once stood. He suddenly snapped up straight, his arms at first uncertain, then rapidly with growing delight caressed his head, like the world’s creepiest shampoo commercial.

If it wasn’t for the lack of hair, I’m sure Voldemort would have signed a sponsorship deal with L’Oreal.

“M-master.” Pettigrew cowered.

Voldemort’s head whipped in his direction. His arm, on the contrary, slowly, sensually slithered up and out. “My wand, Wormtail.” 

Pettigrew reverently handed it over. Voldemort sighed in pleasure, running a soothing hand over the wood. And then suddenly and violently slashed it to the side to test his magic on the nearest target. 

The wires tugged on his harness, launching Pettigrew sideways with a shriek, and he ultimately crashed on the cushioned pedestal of the grave I was standing on. 

I flinched as he landed near my feet. Pettigrew whimpered and wailed. An unseen squib inside his sleeve began spurting out blood from his severed arm. I unsuccessfully tried to pull away in disgust as his blood got too near the mangled remains of my leg after the Acromantula had its meal.

The makeup artist pulled out all the stops. It leaked poison and pus from between the swollen, twisted gashes of the prosthetic skin. I could practically smell the almonds.

With purposeful steps, Voldemort strolled over to the weeping Wormtail. His silky robes billowed as he looked over him. “Your arm.”

“Oh thank you, master!” He presented his dripping stump to his lord. 

Voldemort snarled, revealing his manky, gingivitis ridden dentures. “You other arm, Wormtail!” Striking like a snake, Voldemort grabbed Pettigrew’s good arm and stabbed his wand into the soft skin.]

“I like it. Let us switch to the new blocking.” Called Cuaron.

Since magic wasn’t actually real, death eaters couldn’t just apparate in and continue the scene like nothing. 

The staff got to work again as I was left hanging like yesterday’s laundry. 

Timothy Spall tapped my foot to gain my attention. I looked down and saw him reclined comfortably on the foam as the harness was pulled off of him. “Alright up there, Bas?”

I shook my head no.

“Feeling parched?” 

I nodded yes. Helpfully, Timothy called over a stage hand. They loosened the rope around my face and pressed a straw to my lips. I greedily sucked down the refreshingly cool water. 

“Thanks.” I smacked my lips in satisfaction. 

I wasn’t the only one getting some interscene reprieve. Robert Pattinson also received his own dose of water, but instead of sipping it, someone dropped it into his no doubt dry eyes.

“Forget the saline, get the fucker an oxygen tank! He’s been holding his breath between scenes.” Had to admire his dedication, if I was honest. Bloke was playing a corpse and was determined to give the performance of a lifetime.

An unwilling laugh tore out from him. “Shut up, Bas! You’ll ruin my concentration.”

Predictably, the rope once more rendered me mute.

Death eaters in place, the scene, and Diggory’s cadaveric commitment continued.

[I’d always held myself in high esteem, but I’d never really considered myself arrogant. That was until Ralph Fiennes gave his performance.

He was manic, mercurial in his mood. His grandiose speech and tirade against his disloyal followers began. 

My physical prowess was something I was proud of. Between doing my stunts and acting against veterans, I thought I was doing an alright job. But as I had studied Ralph’s Voldie, I very much had to raise my game.

Voldemort swanned over to Cedric. He placed one gnarly looking foot on his cheek and turned it. He tutted in disappointment. “Such a handsome boy. Another innocent life lost…” Voldemort discarded his soft demeanour and struck over to me. I felt his warm nescafe scented breath wash over my face. “And all because of you, Harry.”

I tried screaming, but all that came out was a strangled gurgle.

“Just like your mother’s. Lily Potter died in the attempt to save you - and unwittingly provided you with a protection I admit I had not foreseen.” He addressed the death eaters, who slowly tightened their circle around us. “…I could not touch the boy. My curse was deflected by the woman’s foolish sacrifice, and it rebounded upon myself. I was ripped from my body, I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost… still, I was alive.” He roamed in a circle, like a coiling snake. “But, now?” He launched his hand out. The tip of a long spindly finger clawed at my scar. “I can touch him!” 

Tucked neatly away in my bushel of hair was another tiny blood squib. Ralph pressed on just the right spot. I thrashed in pain, futilely in my restraints. My throat strained as I let out a suppressed scream. Blood seeped from my scar all the way down my face. 

“You see how foolish it was to suppose that this boy could ever have been stronger than me?” A wide smile stretched unnaturally over his face. I collapsed on all fours after they pulled away the ropes holding me back. “Pick up your wand, Potter.” I scrambled to my knees until a quivering hand snatched the discarded wand on the ground. “I said pick it up! Get up! Get up!” His mood once again turned on a dime. 

Conscious of my destroyed leg, I hobbled and limped on to one foot and five toes. 

“You have been taught how to duel, Harry? So first we must bow.” he spread his arms magnanimously and barely tilted his waist.

I just stared at him. A pained grimace danced across my face. My wand clutched in my shivering fist at my side.

“Come, the niceties must be observed.” He taunted. Seeing as I remained upright, he took action. “Imperio! I said, bow. Dumbledore would like you to show manners.”

I allowed myself to slacken as the curse took momentary effect. But just as promptly, with a clenched jaw, I threw it off. “I won’t!”

“Bow to death, Harry!” He slashed his wand at me again. With the same veracity that I’d observed him use, I jerked forward and bent at the waist. I scrunched my face in agony, curled my spine and fought to stay vertical, as if a waterfall was suddenly pounding on my shoulders. 

My knees shook and almost fell back to the ground. But with every bit of strength, I tensed my muscles and kept from dropping. 

“Very good.” The pressure let off. 

Without a force to fight any longer, my toiling figure bucked. I stumbled back, lost my balance, and crashed into a sneering Lucius Malfoy - who just as quickly nabbed my shirt and threw me off. The surrounding death eaters laughed at me. 

“And now… we duel.”

I had no chance of regaining any foothold when Voldemort shouted, “Crucio!” Losing the battle with my stubbornness, I finally howled in an agonised wail, tearing my throat raw. I slammed hard on to the ground and writhed in torture. 

As I seized in pain, I glimpsed Voldemort’s feet stop just short of my head. Wicked smile on his face, Voldemort leaned in and stated for all to hear. With a wicked smile on his face, Voldemort leaned in and declared, "I'm going to kill you now, Harry Potter," making sure everyone heard. He then swiped his wand again, signaling the lifting of the curse. With a grand gesture to his followers, he turned his back to me. “He will be allowed to fight, and you will be left in no doubt which of us is the stronger.” I threw myself behind the headstone. “Don’t you dare turn your back on me!” A plume of debris detonated behind my head by the VFX team. 

I hyperventilated, struggling to catch my shuddering breath through the suffering racking my body. “Is this all the vaunted boy-who-lived is worth?” He mocked. I forced my breathing back under control. “No Dumbledore to save you! No parents to die in your place!” Fear gave way to anger. That was far enough.

I rose to my feet, abandoned my barrier, and stood face to face with the laughing monster. I leveled a determined glare at him. My wand arm no longer shook. “Let’s finish this.”

—------- “Avada Kedavra!” —------- “Expelliarmus!”----------]

---

Leavesden Studio, UK. October 2004.

The stunt team was back on their bullshit. I tugged uncomfortably on my wired harness and hopped up and down to make sure it was appropriately taut. The platform under me jostled a little under my weight. 

We were filming the big action set piece for the film - the Triwizard maze. 

In the original rendition of the movie, the maze itself was the obstacle. Neil Gaiman’s script employed a more fantastical approach, which included the myriad of magical fauna that Jo Rowling had written in the books.

Alfonso Cuaron had taken the script a step further and had a mechanical stage built specifically for this scene.

The marketing team were ecstatic too, as they could use all the magical animals featured in this scene along with the dragons to make a fantastic beasts style trailer.

Much more appetizing than the generic Hollywood summer blockbuster style adverts.

There were only four of us on the call sheet for today’s shoot. Pattinson as Diggory, Lea Seydoux as Fleur, the actor for Krum, and myself as Harry. 

All four of us stood in front of a large robotics project disguised as a maze.

The set team had built a large blue screen sound stage with a rotating platform in the center. Blue board walls arranged like a labyrinth sat on it.

A series of cameras encircled the circular construct, while additional cameras were mounted at specific choke points within. 

Finally, they would use a large jimmy jib type crane with a large blue ball as the stand-in - and later, the CGI anchor - for the creatures the four of us would be fighting.

“Places, everyone!” Alfonso called out from his seat behind the monitor. Each of us headed over to our markers taped to the floor. One colour represented one person.

I had red, Pattinson yellow, Seydoux blue, and Krum green.

“Action!”

[Pattinson and I ran in first through the same opening. Harry and Cedric entered the maze.

We ran in tandem for a stretch until the maze branched out into two separate routes. Diggory turned to me and I met his eyes. Both of us focused on the scene and not on the camera recording us overhead.

He gave me a reassuring smile, followed with a nod, brandished his wand - like a gun for some reason - and sprinted left.

I stared at his form until it disappeared around a bend, gripped my own wand, hesitated an instant, shut my eyes, sighed and then just as quickly adopted a decisive frown before setting off in the opposite direction to my next marker.

As soon as I stepped on the red X, the partition on the floor rotated. Pattinson and I were now in the middle ring, while Seydoux and Krum were in the outer. The middle and inner platform stayed still as the outer ring rotated so that when Krum and the Seydoux ran in, it would be an entirely different section of the maze.

To the cameras it would appear as if the magical labyrinth was shifting - especially post CGI.

A few minutes later, the klaxon sounded, signifying that the remaining two players had reached their mark in the mid ring.]

“Si, perfecto. We can now begin the second phase.” Called out over the speakers.

The platform revolved behind us again. A section of the outer ring was wide and open so that the cameras could push in and capture the action in the mid ring. “Remember the order. You will go to your next marker, the jimmy jib will fall, you will each fight your monster, and then we move to the inner ring. Krum is first followed by Diggory, then Fleur, and lastly Harry. Places, everyone, and scene.” Alfonso instructed.

[Krum stumbled his way to his spot, unsteady on his feet, clutching and shaking his head, as if he’s trying to clear it. He then suddenly stands stiffly, swerves his head unnaturally and marches inside. The imperius had taken hold. 

The platform we were standing on turned to the next section.

Diggory ran out from a corner and then skidded to a stop. The crane with the blue ball dropped into the maze. There were a series of small nozzles on the floor that fired jets of pyrotechnics. Cedric dove to the floor and rolled to his feet while swishing his wand, “Protego!” He quickly points his wand at the blue ball that represented the blast-ended skrewt, flicked the wand once more and the crane pulled the ball away. “Hagrid and those bloody beasts!” He complained while running ahead.

The platform turned again.

Fleur cautiously glided down her portion of the maze. The ball crane fell again. Fleur pointed her wand at it, gasped, and just as urgently, she swerved it away and spread her arms in a placating gesture. 

“First, think of the person who lives in disguise, who deals in secrets and tells naught but lies. Next, tell me what’s always the last thing to mend. The middle of middle and end of the end? And finally, give me the sound often heard. During the search for a hard-to-find word. Now string them together and answer me this. Which creature would you be unwilling to kiss?” The prerecorded voice played through the sound system. Fleur Delacour would face the Sphinx riddle. 

“Why must you speak anglais?” the ball slowly encroached into her space, “L’araignée! Ze spider!” but she held her ground. The ball then pulled back and away, clearing her path forward. 

She rushed to the next marker at a junction between two routes. She braced herself quickly, the stunt rope on her harness pulled hard, yanking her out of frame and sending her sprawling on a crash mat behind a wall. Later, the CGI team would add effects to show that she was struck by a spell. 

The platform finally rotated to show my turn. I huffed hard and fast, my wand leveled ahead as I raced to my mark.

The jimmy jib fell suddenly with the blue ball. I rapidly backpedaled a step and brandished my wand. “Expecto-!” Then hesitated. I, as Harry, snarled, realizing it wasn’t a real dementor. “Ridikulus!” The ball snapped back and pulled away. 

Lea’s recorded scream blasted through the intercom before I could go down the path I had chosen. 

I glanced toward the scream, stared longingly back at the route I was originally going down, before heading towards the cry. 

I passed a small alcove with a camera on an arm hidden within it. It was a long corridor, with Fleur collapsed at the end of it. I sprinted, the camera popped out of the alcove and focused on my back. I hit my mark. The stunt line snapped in place. I was ripped off my feet, cartwheeled in midair, and hung upside down. The camera twirled to follow my every move. This was the golden mist trap.]

The klaxon sounded again. “Cut!” Alfonso called out. “We pause. I must review the footage.”

I groaned in discomfort, my hands clasped the anchors of my wires and I pulled on them to alleviate the pressure and stop the harness from digging painfully into my skin.

“‘Aving fun up zere?” I heard the dulcet tones of Lea Seydoux call out to me.

I swiveled my head around until I spotted her reclined comfortably on the crash mat, thoroughly amused at my predicament.

I looked down at her. Lea’s face was flushed from the physical exertion. As she laid back, her breasts sat flatter on her chest and seemed almost ready to spill out over the top of her shirt. I kept staring, her panting, her slightly mussed hair; she looked like pure sex.

Maybe the stunt team’s fuck up worked in my favour. I actually felt lucky. Dangling upside down in the air meant that the blood was rushing purely to my head and not another extremity.

“Normally I’d say no. But I can’t complain about the view.”

She laughed lightly and flicked her hand in a shooiing motion. “Dégénéré.” 

“Does that mean I’m too handsome to stop gawking at?” I teased, though more strained than usual, as I began feeling nauseous.

“No. It means I am staring at ze monkey with ‘iz banana!” She shot back.

I didn’t get an opportunity to defend myself, or indeed, to dig a deeper hole. “Reset!” Alfonso blared over the speaker. “Back to start, we go again.”

Just great. I’d be back trapesing here, and we hadn’t even gotten to the duel between us three guys, or even the acromantula chase.

It was going to be a long week.

---

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