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Chapter - 142
🕑 Added 2025-05-27 17:50:42 +0000 UTC[Title : Audition Tapes]
….
July 23, 2011 – Saturday
…..
Regal arrived in the United Kingdom accompanied by Samantha.
The trip had been set in motion weeks prior, following the wide release of casting calls for the first installment of [Harry Potter].
And before their arrival itself, notices had been scattered across social media platforms, inboxes of youth theatre groups, and drama schools throughout the British Isles.
From the West End to grassroots playhouses in Cornwall, word had spread: casting for the next cultural monolith had begun.
Unlike typical casting hunts, however, this one generated a storm of submissions almost immediately - and for one key reason: everyone knew these roles would be going to new faces.
Fresh talent.
Right again… Regal’s new film is going to cast complete new faces. But this time, it wasn’t just preference. It was a necessity.
[Harry Potter] demanded an entire ensemble of children - leads, supporting characters, background roles. And it was impossible, not to mention foolish, to try filling each part with polished, pre-packaged professionals.
The search had to be broad. Ground-up.
…..
9:06 AM – Winner Studio, England
…..
A soft rain veiled the outskirts of the red-brick studio building just outside London.
The pavement shimmered with puddles, and the wind dragged the drizzle sideways as Regal stepped into Soundstage B.
His coat - thick wool, dark charcoal - was still wet at the shoulders. His boots let out a muted squelch with every step, betraying the quiet he carried into the room.
Samantha caught sight of him as he entered, her tone brisk but not hurried. “Morning. We have compiled all the video submissions, sorted and tagged. You can start reviewing whenever you’re ready.”
Regal nodded. “Good morning. Let’s get into it.”
He joined the table where the Red Studio casting team had already assembled.
In front of them, a large projection screen illuminated the room - looping clips of children reading lines, clearly recorded in home cam with awkward tilts and shaking, while the kid was not in the centre.
Right. The first stage of the process was self-submission.
Applicants had been asked to choose any character from the book and send in a recorded monologue - however they imagined them.
It was unfiltered, raw, simply unprofessionally recorded while few videos were even prompted - guessingly by their parents or family members.
Still, it was cute seeing the kids giving their all without being aware of what they are getting into.
….
Just as Regal settled into his seat, the quiet shuffle of papers, the clicking of pens, and the soft hum of the projector filled the space as the team began settling into their roles.
At the far end of the table sat Eliot Roth, a seasoned U.K. casting director with decades of experience behind him.
He was specifically hired for this project, and his role was to walk them through the finer details of each candidate - their theatre backgrounds, agency affiliations, home training, and in some cases, even school recommendations.
Seated beside him was Catherine Langston, the appointed dialect coach. Catherine said little as her real work would begin only after the shortlist was made, but she was here to plant early seeds - spot children with good vocal control, mark accents that could be trained or needed too much effort.
Near the corner, apart from the main arc of the semicircle, sat Jeremy Hill - Red Studio’s senior executive overseeing the casting process.
Jeremy was the one who prepared this setting, and he is responsible to run things here and to make sure the pace stays on schedule, the decisions stay within range, and the team’s collaboration remains smooth.
And then, at the center of it all - both physically and symbolically - sat Regal.
Everyone in the room knew it, even if it wasn’t spoken outright: despite being the youngest the final word would be his.
Soon after, the lights dimmed slightly as the next reel queued up. The room quieted.
It was time to begin.
…..
As the recordings were played one after another one thing became clear.
Despite the UK-centric rollout, the submissions weren’t strictly British. Auditions poured in from Scotland, Ireland, Wales, and - unsurprisingly - from across the Atlantic as well.
Dozens of American children had submitted tapes, sometimes with shaky English accents, sometimes without even trying. But their passion was undeniable.
It made sense. In this world, the [Harry Potter] book had been published in America first. For many of them, it was an American story - something they felt proud of, something they believed they owned a piece of.
As for Regal’s stance on nationality?
He didn’t care where an actor was from. Not really.
Certainly, he was inclined, of course, to prioritize British children - out of respect for the story’s cultural roots, and the fact that most characters were, by design, British.
But he refused to be chained to that rule.
If the best Hermione he could find happened to come from Philadelphia instead of Oxford, and all she needed was a dialect coach and a few hairpins, he would cast her in a heartbeat.
He wasn’t here to mimic the original world’s constraints. He was here to create the definitive version for this one.
He remembered how, in the world he came from, the insistence on British-only casting had come directly from J.K. Rowling herself.
And to her credit, it had protected the soul of the franchise. It had preserved a certain authenticity. But Regal also knew how personal preferences could sometimes blind even the most well-meaning creators.
That is why he was here now - in person.
Not just to cast, but to make a gesture. A quiet, unspoken nod of respect to the work that had sparked everything in the first place.
He might own [Harry Potter] in this world.
But that didn’t mean he had forgotten where it came from.
….
As hours passed, the footage continued to play.
Young hopefuls. Dozens. Dozens more. A swirl of accents, rehearsed lines from the book, stage parents lurking like silent dementors.
However, most of them were met with direct rejection from Regal.
“Too TV.” Regal murmured. “Next.”
….
Another rejection. The kid was Irish. But he was too old.
Another. Too cheeky.
Another. Dead eyes.
It went on. And on.
Until–
The screen flicked to a grainy handheld video.
The first thing that came into notice is the posters of The Simpsons, WWF wrestling, and a fading cutout of Coolio fighting for wall space beside a crooked bookshelf stacked with Goosebumps, Tintin, and stray comic issues.
It's obvious, the clip is being recorded in a cheap camcorder.
And just then, an eleven year old boy appears, ginger hair, freckled, wearing a hoodie far too big for him, standing awkwardly in front of the camera.
His voice crackles as he checks the mic.
[“Right, uh… Hello. My name’s Rupert Grint. I am eleven. I like sweets, acting, and I hate spiders.”]
He squints into the camera. Then suddenly, with a deep breath—
He flips his cap backward, like he is about to drop the hottest mixtape no one asked for. He kneels out of frame for a beat… and pops back up wearing shades made of folded paper, a thick fake chain made of popcorn string.
The hell with that? Catherine screamed internally, gripping the armrest of her chair as if it might somehow anchor her to sanity. This isn't a costume you wear for a magical setting film when you audition for it!
However, unbiased by her thoughts, Regal eyes lit up as the video began.
The elven year Rupert Grint opened his mouth -
A beatbox track plays from a small cassette player in the corner - it’s just him beatboxing, badly recorded and looping. He raises a hand, nods with mock swagger, and starts to rap.
[“Yo yo yo, it’s Rupert G,
I’m the ginger kid you gotta see.
I’m Ron Weasley — that’s my fate,
Mess with Harry, and I’ll levitate!”]
A pause. Then he continued.
[I’ve got a rat, and a broken wand,
But give me spells, I’ll make a bond.
Not James, not Bond, just Ron, it’s true,
I’ll fight a troll just to save the loo!”]
He twirls, flailing one arm like a lasso. It’s chaotic, clumsy - but somehow magnetic.
[“My mom’s got seven, yeah I’m one,
The funniest Weasley under the sun.
I’m loyal, brave, a little dumb,
But with me, the party’s never glum.”]
He points at the camera - does a slow moonwalk. The lens zooms in awkwardly as he shouts the final line:
[“So pick me, man, and don’t delay —
‘Cause Rupert G’s gonna save the day!
Word.”]
He throws down a sock as if it were a mic.
“.....”
The clip turns black, and all the three expect for Regal had single thought -
The hell they had just watched?!
Alas, it didn't end there. The screen lit up again, cutting to seemingly a second segment.
The same kid ducks again and comes back up - now wearing a ridiculous blonde wig, overblown pink lipstick, and his mum’s glasses.
He is, without question, doing a random impression of a woman… probably someone he knew. Maybe his mother?
The video played as ‘She’ paces in front of the camera like a Shakespearean general.
[“Now children, remember! Acting… is not about being someone else. It is about finding the truth… inside your gut! Right here!”]
He slaps his stomach and nearly falls. [“You must breathe the air of the character. Become the potion. Drink the wand!”]
She claps twice and makes a fart noise with her mouth.
….
And oh god, that wasn’t the end either. Another segment was queued up, and the collective groaned. Yet Regal did not comment or object - he clearly wasn’t signaling for anything to stop.
So they just hoped it would be the last.
The next shot opened rough and handheld again, as if whoever was filming had only just scrambled into place. The image shook slightly before stabilizing.
And then there he was.
Rupert.
He is wearing a Gryffindor-ish homemade robe, likely a towel, and holding a broom. The wig is gone, and he looks more focused, a little shy now.
Luckily, this time it actually looked like he was doing something connected to acting - something that made sense for the character.
He was holding a piece of paper, as his fingers gripped it awkwardly as he scanned it, mouthing the words once before actually speaking.
Then, in that quiet, handheld frame - he began to read.
[“Wingardium… Levi…”] He hesitated, narrowing his eyes as if struggling to sound it out. [“Levi-o-sa. Not Levio-saahh.”]
Even with the line right in front of him, he somehow managed to mispronounce it. It wasn’t clear whether it was intentional or just nerves, but the second he said it, he rolled his eyes and made that face - that slouched, sulking Ron face, all frustration and embarrassment rolled into one.
[“She’s a nightmare, honestly.”]
Then he looks off-camera and breaks into a wide, unsure smile - as the tape ends for real this time.
….
Finally, as the clip faded to black, all eyes instinctively shifted to Regal.
He hadn’t moved. And then–
“Haaha, that was funny!” He burst out suddenly, a sharp bark of laughter escaping before any of them could brace for it.
!??Everyone blinked.
Across the room, Samantha winced - not because of the laughter itself, but because she knew too well what often came after.
.
….
[To be continued…]
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Comments
Rohit Reddy
I have thought of that too. Lets see how its goes.
Shang Ling
Lily should be Hermione 😤😤
