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Chapter - 161
🕑 Added 2025-06-19 16:20:01 +0000 UTC[Title : Filming [Harry Potter]]
….
[Next Day]
….
The phone buzzed somewhere under a half-folded hoodie and a messy pile of script notes.
Regal cracked his eyes open before the alarm could scream.
4:58 AM.
Figures.
The flat was still dipped in shadow as a faint blue line cut across the curtains, pre-dawn light trying to sneak in.
Somewhere beyond it, Scotland was awake already.
Cold and wet.
He swung his legs over the bed. The carpet met bare feet with a chill. Before he could stretch—
Knock knock.
Then her voice.
“You are up, right?” Seren’s sleepy murmur came through the door, muffled but unmistakably her. “The van is in twenty and I swear to God if you make me wait in the cold—”
“I am up.” His voice was rough. Still half-dreaming. “I am moving.”
“Good, because I am not freezing alone for your genius vision”
He smirked to himself, dragging himself toward the sink. The water was glacial, but it slapped the rest of the night off his face. He brushed his teeth in silence, staring into the mirror like it owed him answers.
….
By 5:20 AM, Regal and Sareen had said their goodbyes to Gwendolyn and Keanu in the lobby. The two were flying back to the States later that afternoon.
“ Love you, and all the best for your work today." Gwendolen said, hugging him briefly. “I am sure you will do great.”
“Thanks, love you too.”
Then she looked at the man standing in the back. “Rock take care okay?”
To which he just nodded his head.
Keanu offered a lazy salute, a coat draped over one arm. “Don’t let the kids out-act you, Regal.”
“Depends…” Regal replied dryly, stepping into the cold with Seren trailing behind.
…
The production van rumbled through the narrow cliffside road.
Inside, warm air and the quiet scent of burnt coffee.
Regal sat beside the window, hands wrapped around a metal travel mug, eyes watching the mist unspool across the distant hills.
Across from him, Samantha had already claimed her usual corner seat. Her fingers flew across her tablet like she was defusing a bomb
“We are locked in for Scene 42A today” She said without looking up “Interior and exterior. Coastal setup. Continuity storm’s greenlit. Weather is holding… for now”
Regal didn’t reply, just took a long sip from the mug.
She kept going “Radcliffe’s here. Brookstone and Dunn too. Robin’s being stitched into that monstrous coat. Naomi’s finishing costume continuity and Peter’s got the dolly rig coming together, and if it clouds before ten, we switch to handheld”
He raised an eyebrow slightly “The hut?”
“Dressed by midnight. They reinforced the door this time and the props department got it on hydraulics for Hagrid’s entrance.”
He gave a slow nod, the kind that said noted but also thinking. Outside the window, the cliffs looked like they were dissolving in fog. Waves smashed like distant war drums below.
Seren pulled her jacket tighter and muttered. “Remind me why we are not shooting in a nice soundstage again?”
“Because fake storms don’t slap as hard.” It was Samantha that replied but it was more like she was just copying a reply she got.
“It’s definitely not because he is just stubbornly insane right?” Seren pressed further.
“No… Definitely not the case, right Regal?” Samantha raised an eyebrow to something she already had an answer to.
….
6:20 AM.
The van bumped to a halt on gravel, and the cold came rushing in as the doors slid open.
A gust of sea wind hit Regal square in the chest.
“Welcome to the sets of Harry Potter." He mumbled under his breath, stepping out.
The set was a full-scale war zone, in the best way.
The hut sat like a survivor on the cliff’s edge, patched together with aged timber, steel bones, and hand-painted weather rot.
A work of obsession from the art team.
Rain slicked the sodden grass.
Fog machines hissed like kettles.
Crew members in ponchos darted between trucks, shouting into headsets over the wind.
“Regal’s on set!” Shouted Rina, clipboard already half-soaked as she jogged toward them.
She matched his pace immediately, walking backward in front of him.
“Kids are in holding. Mathew got half the dolly track down. Jay’s running sound tests - apparently gale force wind doesn’t care about our microphones. Simon’s ready early, wants to nail the wide before lunch light shifts.”
Regal didn’t slow. “We walk through blocking. Dan’s green. I want him warmed up before we roll.”
“Got it.” Rina pivoted, already speaking into her walkie. “Director wants blocking on site. Five-minute reset. Repeat: blocking on site, no cameras yet.”
Seren peeled off to join Naomi, the Costume Designer for the film and the rest of the crew at base camp.
…..
Everything was in motion.
Director of Photography (DP), Mathew Hord waved from beside the camera tent, face mostly hidden under a waterproof hood.
“Light is perfect for the wide if we move fast”
Jay was adjusting Keaton’s mic under the beard, hands red from cold “No guarantees on clean sound. Wind’s peaking”
….
Inside the warm tent labeled TALENT, the smell of cocoa, wool, and makeup clung to the air. The space was heated, but barely - enough to keep frostbite away, not enough for comfort.
A low hum from a space heater filled the quiet between conversations.
Daniel Radcliffe sat curled in a folding chair, hands wrapped around a steaming paper cup of hot chocolate.
He was already in costume - thin cotton pajamas under a knitted hoodie that looked like it had survived three decades and a house fire.
His cheeks were flushed red from the cold, but his eyes were sharp, awake.
He looked up as Regal stepped in through the flap.
“Morning, Regal.” He said, voice cracking slightly from the dry air.
“Morning, Dan.” Regal returned the greeting with a small smile, crouching down beside him so they were eye-level. “Did you manage to get some sleep?”
“A little.” Daniel nodded, shifting slightly to keep the cocoa from spilling. “I read the scene again, though. It’s not really fear, right? Like, not monster-under-the-bed fear. It’s more like... like everything just changed and he doesn’t know what to do with that.”
Regal blinked. Smart kid. He took a breath.
“That’s exactly it.” He said, gently tapping Dan on the shoulder. “It’s not terror - it’s awe. You’re not screaming, you are just... knocked off your axis. Let Hagrid’s words hit you. Just feel it and let your face handle the rest.”
Dan nodded slowly. “Got it.”
There was a pause. Regal stayed crouched beside him, eyes studying the boy, not Harry Potter, just Dan. He tilted his head a little.
“That’s about the scene.” Regal added, tone softening. “But what about you? You good? Not freezing your fingers off, I hope.”
Dan blinked at the sudden shift, then gave a faint laugh. “Bit cold.” He admitted, shrugging. “But yeah. I think I am good.”
Regal gave him a light nod. “Okay. Don’t push it. Let me know if anything feels off.”
Just a few feet away, Ashby Brookstone, the man cast as Uncle Vernon, stood rigidly with his sides clutched in one hand, muttering under his breath as he paced near the wardrobe rack.
“I demand you leave at once, sir. You are breaking and entering.”
His voice, though half-spoken, still carried a theatrical boom, honed by years of stage work.
The weight in his shoulders, the tightness in his jaw - it was already all there. He was Vernon even off-camera. Regal gave a small nod of approval as he passed.
Farther down, Tommy Dunn, ten years old and blessed with boundless energy, was giggling uncontrollably at the pig tail prosthetic being held up by the FX coordinator.
“It looks real!” He squealed. “Wait - can I keep it after?”
“We will talk.” The prosthetic tech grinned.
Outside, Robin Williams, the face of Hagrid, was finishing the last steps of his transformation.
He stood near the edge of the crew trailer, half in costume, half wrapped in a heating blanket, as Naomi adjusted a strap on the enormous leather coat draped over his back. The thing was massive - stitched leather, patched wool, uneven lining to bulk out his already large frame.
Wind flapped at the bottom like a tattered flag.
His beard, a dense mat of glued-on hair and woven knots, had already needed re-moisturizing twice.
Regal stepped up beside him, eyes scanning the costume with a quick precision.
“You holding up?” He asked.
Robin grinned under layers of hair and glue.
“You can’t imagine.” He said through a chuckle. “They used this glue - I think they use it for stitching wounds shut. Military grade. Goes on great, coming off, though..? Oh my God.”
He winced dramatically.
“It’s like waxing your soul.”
Regal laughed. “Are you ready to scare the hell out of a kid today?”
Robin didn’t miss a beat.
“Always.” He said with a spark in his eye.
And then he straightened, rolled his shoulders back, and began walking toward the hut, each step echoing with a heaviness that already belonged to Hagrid.
Regal watched him for a second, then turned toward the assistant AD waving him down.
Things were about to begin.
…..
8:30 AM.
The wind howled like it had a vendetta. The kind of cold that didn’t wait to be noticed - it punched through your jacket and made a home in your spine.
Blocking rehearsal began.
Near the main monitor tent, Peter Kirkwood, the DOP, stood with Regal, squinting through the shifting light as crew members braced sandbags and checked lines against the gusts.
Peter tapped the monitor frame with the edge of his pen. “We’ve got three camera setups today”
He pointed toward the hut.
Cam A - dolly rig outside, tracking Hagrid from behind as he enters. Full movement shot, wide framing.
Cam B - medium angle from inside, over Harry’s shoulder to catch first reactions.
Cam C - handheld. Used later for inserts and emotion pickups once the main coverage’s done.
“We shoot natural light till noon.” Peter said, gesturing toward the eastern sky “That storm bank’s moving quick, three-hour window if we’re lucky”
Jay, the sound mixer, leaned into the huddle. “Wind just peaked at 28 knots. I’ve got Robin rigged with two lavs, one deep under the beard, one near his collarbone. Harry’s clean. Vernon’s chest mic might rub under his coat so I have got a boom ready for back-up”
“Good.” Regal nodded once, then clapped his hands lightly “Let’s move”
….
9:50 AM
First shot
“Scene 42A, Take 1!”
The clapper snapped shut, echoing for a second before the wind swallowed it
Outside, storm machines screamed into the coastline air, mixing with the real wind. Rain flicked across the roof of the hut. Inside, it was dim and still
Daniel was crouched near the makeshift hearth, costume damp at the sleeves, curls falling into his eyes
Tommy shifted on his stool near the table, eyes darting toward the creaking door
Simon stood stiff, shotgun prop gripped like it might fire for real
BOOM—
The hut’s door slammed open
Robin ducked through, shoulders hunched under the weight of his coat, beard soaked, hair plastered down by wind and water.
“Sorry ’bout that” He rumbled, voice warm and deep
Dan blinked, perfect flinch, confusion and awe tugging at his brows
“Who... who are you?”
“Rubeus Hagrid. Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts”
A beat passed.
Breath held across the room
Then, from behind the monitor - calm and measured. “Cut”
Peter glanced toward the voice, already anticipating the next move.
Regal stepped forward onto the set, boots crunching softly on damp plywood as he crossed through sandbags and coiled cables.
“That was good.” He said, eyes scanning the room.
The second the word good left his mouth, a few crew members instinctively began resetting - grips repositioning lights, ADs whispering into walkies, sound team prepping their backups
But the older hands, those who had worked with Regal before - hesitated, glancing toward him, unsure.
Because ‘good’ doesn't necessarily mean no second take.
Sure enough, the answer came quickly.
Regal turned toward Robin first.
“But I want another.” He said, calm but firm “Pace it down. You are not raiding a house, you are not a storm crashing in. You are a friendly giant, remember? They should be surprised… not scared”
Robin nodded once, scratching under the edge of the damp beard, eyes thoughtful beneath the wild hair.
Then Regal turned to Dan.
His tone dropped to something quieter, more personal. “And you - keep that stillness. Don’t rush the reaction, let it come to you naturally. Trust your pause.”
Dan gave a small, focused nod. Thumb raised, eyes already turning inward again - ready
With that, the AD raised her walkie again, voice sharp. “Resetting for Take 2! Quiet on set!”
The crew moved as one.
And just like that, they were ready to try again.
Scene 42A wasn’t finished.
But it was getting closer
….
They ran seven more takes
Each one found something sharper
Ashby’s voice softened into something less theatrical, more like a man trying to protect what’s his.
Tommy’s twitch when Hagrid raised his umbrella - perfect, honest
And in Take 6, Dan gave them the moment - his face shifted just barely, fear thinning into something gentler, something like hope
Behind the tent, Peter gave a slow nod.
But everyone’s eyes were only on one person…
Who leaned into his headset with a quiet. “Yes.”
….
3:20 PM.
Wrap call.
The hut was coming apart piece by piece.
Crews unscrewed panels, rolled cables into slick coils, and packed the final camera into a foam-lined crate.
Clouds finally caught up - thick, grey, spitting rain as if to remind them they’d won the race by minutes
Regal stepped away from the monitors. Samantha handed him a warm towel and a small nod.
“That’s day one” She said, almost as if she didn’t quite believe it
He looked back at the empty frame of the hut.
Past it, the cliffside churned with fog. The crew, mud-streaked and quiet, moved like they had survived something
Dan passed him on the way back to wardrobe, coat thrown loose over his small frame, costume still half-visible underneath
“You were great today.” Regal said, catching his shoulder
Dan’s eyes lit up “Thanks, Regal”
“Go rest. You will need it tomorrow”
The boy smiled, nodding before disappearing behind a flurry of assistants.
….
The van ride back was quieter.
The heater hummed against the glass, steaming it in patches.
Simon tapped quietly into his phone, jotting notes for tomorrow’s shoot.
Samantha had already fired off three emails, timing out makeup calls for the next day’s crew.
“To your flat?” She asked without looking up.
Regal stared out the fogged window, the cliffside vanishing behind them like it had never been there.
“No.” He said, voice low
“To the office”
Samantha barely looked up. “Why am I even asking?” She muttered. “It’s basically your second home anyway.”
He leaned back, finally letting his eyes close.
After a moment, his voice cut through again, quieter this time.
“Rock.” He said without opening his eyes. “You were pretty quiet today on set.”
He had noticed him - Rock, their quiet security head-slash-facilitator, standing off to the side during most of the shoot, arms folded, not interfering, just watching. Watching everything.
“Bored?”
Rock shook his head. “No.” He said simply, voice deep but calm. “It was interesting. Seeing how it all happens.”
Regal nodded slightly, still reclined, the hint of a smile touching the edge of his lips.
“Good to know.”
Silence returned, comfortable now. The kind that came after something hard was done, even if only for a day.
Day one was done.
And there were six more worlds left to build.
.
….
[To be continued…]
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Comments
David Morehouse
THEY STARTED!!! EEK!
