Chapter 31.5: Jumping the Gun, Not the Shark (Patreon)

Chapter 31.5: Jumping the Gun, Not the Shark

Bas’s Caravan, Leavesden. October 2007.

“Storming out like that, even choreographed, is unbecoming, Mr Rhys.”

“C’mon Cad, calling it storming out is a little harsh. It was a light drizzle at worst.” My steps up the door to my caravan were kept lighter than usual in case I was accused of thundering up them. I reached down, took hold of her outstretched hand, and helped her up the final rung. “Had to make production sweat somehow, or this whole thing wouldn’t hold water.” 

“If you say so. Shall I brew some tea for our impending guest?”

“Probably best make it Jo’s choice. A little comfort after putting her in that position will help her wind down.” Windows and blinds were my responsibility to close.

Smash! Boom, boom, boom! Typhoon season had officially arrived. “Dont you dare ever put me through that again! I’m an author, not an actor.” Well, that was a lot more aggressive than I was expecting. At least she kept her voice down. 

JK Rowling’s accusatory finger and the teapot’s spout both were pointed in my direction. The sound of her huffing breath was joined by the burbling tea being poured into the cup. Two sugars, a dash of milk, and I prepared her cup the way she usually had it. “Darjeeling, darling?”

“Don’t you darling me! That privilege is suspended.”

“Temporarily, though, right?” With surgical precision, I hooped the cup handle around her shaking index finger, forcing her to holster it. “So, did they buy it?”

The British reflexes kicked in. She couldn’t resist taking a sip. “Dont act dumb-”

“I’m not acting-”

“It’s beneath you. Our little charade sold nearly as much as my novel. Some of those poor children were on the cusp of tears. Yates was in pieces when you jogged off. He had a phone on his ear as soon as he picked his jaw off the floor.” I thought the dust I’d kicked up wouldn’t leave anything taller than a molehill, but evidently we made a mountain out of it. 

“Good. They’ll likely steer clear for a bit, so we can talk. No doubt they assume you’re waterboarding me right about now. Keep a lookout Cadbury, if anybody comes knocking,” I turned to Jo, “you’ve my permission to chuck that tea in my face.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

The masks were off. Espionage aficionados may recognize this scene from every mission impossible movie. The score was practically audible, pum, pum, pana! “I’m both surprised and grateful that everyone fell for it. I thought for sure someone would’ve pointed out I didn’t include your deplorable behaviour in my tirade at all. So, tell me, how was your first foray as a thespian?”

“Exhausting. I’ll be glad to be back home soon where I can maintain my manufactured ire through stern emails. Neil had the right of it, citing the workload as his excuse to stay away. We can’t all be the master of deception you are, Bas.”

“Trust me-”

“If I didn’t, we wouldn’t be doing this-”

“It’s better than breaking bones.” Although, I’d have to change my tune if this ever got out. Good thing I had some powerful accomplices in my corner. “We need to update David Heyman.” 

“Mhm. And maybe he can finally give us the full story.” His ringtone started playing as soon as I plonked my phone on the table. “MI5? You’re too infatuated with your imagination, dear boy.” 

“Merely playing my role.” 

Click. “Are you alone?”

“You’re in the clear, M. Just me and JK Bond on the line.” 

“Bas, please. Take this seriously.” That's the spirit, Heyman!

“As far as I can tell, I’m the only one being covert. Don’t drop my name so casually; they could be listening.”

“WB are guilty of a lot - hence our current predicament - but they aren’t wire tapping. Just speak normally. We have a lot to get through and we haven’t much time to do so.” Spoilsport. “How’d it go today?”

“What few hairs Yates had left on his head are liable to fall out sooner rather than later.” Double-O Rowling gave her mission report.

“Although the younger cast didn’t take it too much better.” 

“Not to worry, I’ll sort it out. Each of them will have a bonus cheque in their mail.”

“Hush money, eh?” A Hollywood staple.

“Hush, you!” That, too.

“Good. Then it won’t be long before someone rings me. I’m going to tell them I spoke to you and talked you down, Bas. We just need to stall a bit longer, then things can go back to normal.” 

“David, not that I’m not enjoying this - because I am, immensely, but I really would appreciate the full picture before I continue to further jeopardize my career.” Time for in medias res to get its mise-en-scene on.

“Right, that’s fair. Okay, so to recap, a little over a week ago Neil called me, concerned, and informed me that he had been given instructions to redraft our finished script. Which was very much news to me, too. My initial reaction was to doff it off until I saw that the demand came from up on high. Considering I’m the head of production, that was saying something. The pool of candidates with the authority to overrule me is vanishingly small in the context of the Harry Potter films.” 

“Which is when you called us.”

“Almost immediately. The most important thing I required to untangle this web was first and foremost buying time.”

“And nothing delays a flight faster than calling in a bomb threat.” 

“... Not my preferred analogy, but close enough. The threat of Neil leaving wouldn’t amount to anything. WB would have no problem finding a replacement for him. Everyone is in some way replaceable except for the literal and figurative faces of the franchise, who are you two, respectively.”

“Yes, yes, we’re all caught up with how you used my discontentment, Bas’ hissy fit, and then falsely pitting us against each other so that whatever fixer they send over can’t tackle us together to set as many fires as possible. But I’m still lost to why we’re in this mess.” 

“For the same reason everything else goes wrong. Money and power. Since we last spoke, here’s what I’ve managed to scrounge: over the last few months, WB has gone through some major internal shakeups. They recently launched a joint venture with China’s major film enterprise.”

“Actually, I heard about something similair. Robert Downey Jr. was telling me how when he was filming Iron Man, Marvel, Disney, or whoever had tried to make them shoot an alternate scene specifically for the China version of the film. They were turned down, but it does look like Hollywood as a whole is planning on making a major push into the market.” We’ll have American stars extolling the virtues of ice cream in mandarin before you know it. Bing qilin means big pay day.

“That very well may be the case. WB pictures, which is the subsidiary that we fall under, has merged with the distribution arm to form the WB pictures group. I’ve had the dubious pleasure of meeting the new president of the company, Jeff Robinov. Believe me when I say he’s as hungry as they come, and the Harry Potter IP is the juiciest steak on the table.”

Puzzle pieces began slotting into place. “Just so we’re all on the same page, let me summarize. New boss wants to cement his reign by forcing a new script of his design on our production to better suit the tastes of a potential new audience.” Imagine being so greedy that the mainstream wasn’t mass market enough. 

“Men. Just don’t know when to leave well enough alone, do they?” 

“Succinct and accurate. I’ve already tried, but there’s no getting through to this man. The only way I’m going to be able to wrest control back is by knocking this issue up the hierarchy. It shames me to continue asking this of you, but I’ve no real alternative. There’s no other way that I can think of to ensure enough delay and turmoil for me to be allowed to bring this up with leadership.”

“We’re all on the same team. You do your part and we’ll do ours. I’m quite adept at mayhem.” My initials could very well stand for Blood-pressure Raiser.

“As long as I’m not on the receiving end of it. My other line is buzzing. I’ve got to go. Thank you again, you two. Sincerely.” Click.

“Too bad. Looks like you’re going to have to remain cross with me a while longer.” I am aware of the effect I have on women.

“You don’t make it difficult.” Maybe not. The only time a man is on the receiving end of a side-eye like that is when he’s inevitably pissed off a significant woman in his life.

“Wait, are you genuinely cross with me? I should’ve known you can’t act that well. What did I even do?” Please don’t say I should already know. I’m too pretty to be smart.

“It’s what you didn’t do. I’m still waiting for your response to my acknowledgement in Deathly Hallows.” I was grateful for the straight answer, but my neck still tilted sideways.

“... why, though?” I scooted out of my seat, stood up, and plucked the copy off my bookshelf. “It’s cute, I liked it. I’m sure your husband, kids, and editors loved it. Fans too.” I flipped it open to the first page after the title.

[THIS DEDICATION OF THE BOOK IS SPLIT SEVEN WAYS TO NEIL, TO JESSICA, TO DAVID, TO KENZIE, TO DI, TO ANNE, AND TO YOU IF YOU HAVE STUCK WITH HARRY UNTIL THE VERY END.]

“It goes on after that, you numpty.”

“Really, did I get a misprint?” I turned to the next page. “This is just the contents.”

Immunity to paper cuts wasn’t a perk of gymnastics I realized I had until the moment Jo snatched the novel out of my hand. 

“I cannot believe this. You didn’t even bother reading past this point, did you? I wrote an entire afterword specifically addressed to you, you absolute duffer!” She didn’t just flick through the pages, she inverted the book entirely to the very last printed page. 

Normally I’d defend myself by stating that I’d read the story multiple times from initial to final draft, but rather than a valid excuse - as she handed me my dedication - I felt like I had an invalid chromosome. 

[THIS DEDICATION, LIKE HARRY HIMSELF, IS THE SECRET EIGHTH PIECE FOR MY SECRET WEAPON. BAS, THANK YOU FOR HARRY. WATCHING YOU MADE HIM GROW. I’LL NEVER STOP LOOKING AFTER YOU. I PROMISE, ALWAYS.]

Below that was a little graphic. I wanted to say it was two hands interlocking their pinkies, but my vision was too blurry to confirm. 

The tears that dripped and distorted it didn’t help either. 

Speaking wasn’t something I bothered trying. If I did, I knew there’d only be one sound that would have escaped through my tightened chest, pursed lips, and crumpled chin. 

“Not a peep even still. How disappointing.” That wide satisfied smirk said otherwise, Joanne. 

With shivering hands, I gently closed the book. I couldn’t bear damaging it. But as I lurched forward and wrapped my arms around Rowling, I chose to bear hug her instead.

“Get off me, you utter beast!” Then try pushing me away instead of reciprocating. 

Sniff. “No.” 

“Apologies. But I regret to inform you that uninvited guests are approaching.” My lookout spotted.

Jo raised her hand to wipe my tears as I pulled away. I caught her wrist and put it down. “T-tea would’ve been better… tears will have to suffice.”