Ch-63

I ended up spending more than three hours at Carla's new place. She was brutally honest about her past and didn't mince any words around topics that adults usually censor in the presence of children, which I appreciated a lot. Some part of me was angry at her for destroying the picture-perfect image I had of my bio-dad in my head, but seeing her face when she narrated the story, I could tell that she was telling the truth. I had never even considered why she was the way she was. I guess it was convenient to paint her as a demon in my mind and just be done with it. While I won't be giving her any Mother of the Year awards, it felt wrong to consider her a piece of 'furniture'.

"I'm not saying this just to shift the blame," she said in a serious tone after narrating the story. "I'm equally, if not more accountable than my lawyer for filing that suit against your family and tarnishing your image. I know it sounds very bad, but I just wanted some money. It's hard to get a job and maintain it in this economy when you have a legal record. My lawyer asked me to sue for custody so that I can get a higher settlement than I had originally planned to ask for."

"And how much had you wanted to ask for?" I asked curiously.

"A hundred thousand," she said after a pause. "Don't worry. I know you won't give me anything after the move I pulled, and I understand. I wouldn't either."

We sat there in uncomfortable silence for a couple more minutes, having run out of topics. While I may have forgiven her somewhat, I had no intention to get to know her better. Whatever her reasons may have been, I didn't want to get attached to her. She was as toxic as they came, and I wanted no piece of that. Had she asked something personal about my life, I wouldn't have liked it either for the same reason. In a way, the silence was better.

Finally, sensing the lull in our conversation, Roger said, "Troy, I think we've spent a lot of time here. If you don't mind, I have to go home. My shift is near its end."

That was a code word of ours. I had coached him to say that whenever he thought that I wanted to get out of a situation but was too polite to say so. Celebs have to maintain their image, you know. In the rare scenario where his judgment was wrong and I wanted to stay, I would have told him that I'd pay him overtime for the stay, otherwise…

"You're right, Roger. I lost track of time," I said, standing up and turning to Carla. "I hope that satisfied all conditions of our contract, Carla?"

Carla frowned for a bit when I called her by her name but quickly schooled her features. "Can I call you sometime? Just to talk?"

"No," I shook my head. "I'm sorry. But I can't go through this again. I would advise you to move on and forget about me. Find new friends and family and start afresh. There's too much history here for things to ever go back to normal."

I didn't want to see her cry like I suspected she was about to, so I turned to Roger and nodded. He understood my silent message and escorted me back out of the building discreetly. Roger was a pro when it came to avoiding public attention, and given how many people knew me at the moment, his presence was necessary to avoid a mobbing situation.

"I'm sorry, Troy," he said in a regretful tone when we were back in our car. "That must not have been easy."

"It wasn't," I agreed. "But I needed to talk to her. I wanted to look her in the eye and tell her how much I hated her, but now…" I trailed off, not knowing what else to say or do. She had left me confused more than anything. I didn't know how to proceed forward. I didn't want her in my life, I knew that for sure. And while it may sound very easy, I also didn't want to give her a lot of money because I know what she did last time with my father's insurance money. At the same time, I knew how depressed she was, and I didn't want her to do something extreme because she was alone and desperate.

"Hey," Roger called out softly. "It's not your responsibility. She brought it on herself. You're doing the right thing by cutting her off."

Did he just read my mind? I stared at him in surprise from the backseat, but Roger never took his eyes off the road. I shook off that thought and went back to thinking about my life and the future.

Now that Carla had withdrawn her custody suit against my family, things could somewhat go back to normal. I'm saying 'somewhat' because it would take time for people to forget about all the allegations that were flowing against my family less than a week ago. It was lucky that I didn't have any movies releasing this month, or I don't think I could handle the media scrutiny in the press junkets.

That reminds me that I'll have to go back to Los Angeles next week for the Oscars. Normally, I would have preferred to avoid it, just like I did with the BAFTAs, but my hand was forced this time around. The CEO of Warner Bros., Barry Meyer, flew personally to London just two days ago.

(Flashback)

"You got yourself a nice place here, Steve," Barry commented idly as he took in our living room.

"Thank you, Barry," Dad nodded. "We just recently moved in here."

Dad had bought a new home for our family in Knightsbridge, the most expensive area in London, after receiving his generous pay for the first [Harry Potter] movie. It made sense to buy one because it saved him a lot of taxes. We had moved in right after finishing the shoot of [A.I. Artificial Intelligence] in LA, and right before the shoot of [Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets] was to begin. It was a huge house, with lots of greenery outside, had five bedrooms, and six bathrooms, and boasted quite a steep price at £12.5m. It also had a swimming pool, a gym, a study-cum-library, and so many other rooms that seemed useless to me. But Dad had insisted that we would need them in the future to host our guests.

Guests like Barry Meyer.

"All thanks to [Harry Potter]," the Warner CEO smiled magnanimously. "And a little credit could go to Warner as well, I hope?"

"Of course," Dad agreed immediately. "We can't be grateful enough to Warner Bros for everything they have done for our family. From [Sex Education] to [Harry Potter]."

"I like to think it is a mutually beneficial relationship where both of us benefited a lot, and I would like this partnership of ours to continue for years to come." Barry's smile widened for a moment, if that was even possible, before settling back into a passive look as he lifted his gaze from Dad to look at Mum, and then me. "I won't beat around the bush. I flew from Los Angeles because I need your help. Warner has invested a lot of resources in your two upcoming films, Troy, and because of this stunt pulled by that woman, they can both be jeopardized. It's time to do some damage control."

By now, I had already given the interview that turned the media against Carla, so I didn't know what else damage control I could do.

"I thought that the interview Troy gave was damage control enough?" Mum asked, voicing my inner thoughts.

"It was to a point," Barry grinned before turning to me. "That 'interview,' if you can call it that, was watched by more than 20 million people in the US as well. I personally love the fact that you put down that vile woman so efficiently. If I wasn't already a fan of yours, I would definitely become one after that."

I grinned at that. "Thanks, Barry."

"That said, it wasn't enough," he said in a serious tone. "We need to do more. We need to show that we have overcome that little setback. And it all begins with the Oscars. Troy needs to be present at the ceremony and give out the award for Best Supporting Actress."

I really didn't want to. I didn't even have a slim chance of winning this time because I already won last year. Moreover, I remember that Russell Crowe won over Tom Hanks because Hanks had won twice in 1994 and 1995. The same principle shall apply to me. At the same time, I understood Barry's point of view. Attending the ceremony would be great publicity for [Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets] and [A.I. Artificial Intelligence].

"The British will think that I'm giving more importance to the Oscars over the BAFTAs," I noted.

"The Oscars are more important than the BAFTAs," Barry countered heatedly. "Everyone around the world knows that. Even the British know that, although they may be a little reluctant to admit it. Don't tell me you suddenly started to care what the people think of your actions?"

I didn't say anything for a few moments, mulling over the idea of flying back to LA again. Ugh. I hated flying.

"I'm not here just to get you back for the Oscars," Barry continued when I didn't respond. "I wanted to let you know that I still believe in you, despite that stupid decision taken by the Board of Directors to halt the production of the third Potter film. I saw a rough cut of [A.I. Artificial Intelligence] a few days ago, and I know it will be a major hit, just like [Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets], all because of your performance. You have done masterful work in both films, and I would appreciate it greatly if you could continue working with us for more films. So here's my offer, if you attend the Oscars, I'll agree to finance or distribute your next non-Potter film, no questions asked, given its budget is up to 20 million. Even if the budget exceeds that amount, I'm sure we can come to some agreement."

That was a very tempting offer. One that I couldn't refuse easily. Didn't mean I would do anything he said.

"Okay," I agreed reluctantly. "I'll attend the Oscars, but I have a condition."

Barry inclined his head for me to continue.

"I won't give out any interviews. If any reporters ask me anything personal, I'll ignore them because I know what kind of questions they'll ask me. Also, no press junket until either of my films is actually being released."

"Deal," Barry grinned and shook my hand. "It shouldn't cause any trouble, but if it does, I'll personally make sure to mute any negative news about you." He paused as a thought came to his mind, "Although, you'll have to give some interviews if you do win the Oscar."

I scoffed, "Oh please, I won by a fluke last time. Haven't you heard? Lightning doesn't strike the same place twice."

Barry nodded in agreement, "True, but you can never tell with the Oscars."

(Break)

"You were seen by no less than seven Muggles!" Alan Rickman, in his Snape attire, hissed menacingly. "Do you have any idea how serious that is? You have risked the exposure of our world! Not to mention the damage you inflicted on the Whomping Willow that's been on these grounds since before you were born."

His dialogue delivery is so unique and perfect that every syllable out of his mouth is enunciated clearly, and you want to hear more of it.

Jamie and I were standing in front of him in his Potions lab, while the actor who played Argus Filch stood behind us.

"Honestly, Professor Snape," Jamie, as Ron, said with a trembling voice, "I think it did more damage to us."

I gently elbowed the taller boy at the same time as Alan yelled, "Silence!" He got up and moved around his desk as he said, "I assure you, were you in Slytherin and your fate rested with me, the both of you would be on your way home. Tonight. As it is–"

"They are not," Michael Gambon (Dumbledore) said calmly.

"Cut!" Chris shouted out loud, halting us from continuing the scene. "Good job, everyone. But I'll need another shot of the scene. Need to adjust some cameras. Give me five, and then we'll redo."

Getting nods of agreement from everyone around, Chris went back to the crew and started ordering around which camera and light instruments to adjust.

I got off the little stool I was standing on to shoot the scene so that Jamie wouldn't look too much older than me. That's movie magic for you.

"Little Harry," Jamie remarked with a grin on his face. "When will you grow up?"

I rolled my eyes at him in all my maturity. "You're older than me. Of course, you'd be taller. Just wait for a few years, and I'll be taller than everyone here."

"Ha!" He scoffed. "You wish."

Ignoring his antics, I turned to Alan Rickman and changed the topic. "Hey, Alan! How did I do?"

He raised a single eyebrow perfectly. "But you didn't have any dialogue in this scene."

"Exactly," I smiled. "The best acting is one that doesn't need any dialogues."

He gave me a considering look for a moment before saying, "Whoever told you that, lied to you. The most important part of acting is dialogue delivery. People won't remember your expressions after the movie is over, but they will remember your dialogues."

"He is correct," Michael Gambon, who had walked up to us with Maggie Smith, placed a hand on my shoulder. "The most memorable character is one with the most memorable lines. So make sure not to piss off any writers or they'll deliberately give you boring lines. Especially if you're playing a supporting character." David, who played Filch, and Maggie, both agreed with the sentiment silently.

Jamie was nodding along seriously, and I was sure that if we weren't in the middle of the shoot, he'd be noting down these words of wisdom somewhere.

"Alright," Chris called out suddenly. "Let's do it one more time."

I stood atop my stool once more as the scene began again with Alan saying his lines, "You were seen by," fart, "no less than seven Muggles!" fart "Do you have any idea how serious that is?" fart "You have risked the exposure of our asses!" fart.

I couldn't hold back anymore and burst into peals of laughter. Beside me, Jamie and Alan weren't faring any better.

"Harry!" Jamie said in a scandalized voice between his laughter. "You shouldn't laugh at Professor Snape! Hahaha! And you should definitely not fart in his presence!"

"It wasn't me!" I shot back with a mock scandalized face. "It was my stool. I swear." I bent down and lifted the stool I was standing on to see that someone had slid a farting speaker under it, which was still making farting sounds.

Then I remembered how Michael Gambon had stood behind me when he was lecturing us about acting. He must have slid that speaker under my stool during that time. Well played, Sir Michael.

As the reality of the situation dawned upon everyone on set, most people started laughing at the absurdity of the prank. I hadn't realized it before, but I desperately needed that. For the past few days, I had been a little stiff. While my familial situation was back under control, that didn't mean that the media circus hadn't affected me. I was damn sure it would be visible in my performance when the film came out in November.

"Now that that is out of the way," Chris commented after the laughter had subsided. "Can we continue? Troy has to leave tomorrow for the Oscars."

(Break)

Carla opened the front door of her home slightly, only to see a man in his early thirties, in a crisp black suit standing with a messenger bag with him.

"Yes?" she asked hesitantly.

"I'm Keith Langford," the man replied. "Troy Armitage's lawyer."

"Oh yes," Carla opened the door fully, now recognizing the man. "You must be here to finalize the paperwork, right? Come on in."

Keith nodded at her in thanks before following her inside.

It didn't take him long to take out a stack of papers that he slid across the small coffee table towards Carla. Since she had fired her attorney, she settled on reading the contract herself. What she read surprised her in more ways than one.

"Mr. Langford," she looked up suddenly. "This can't be right."

"It is," Keith nodded. "On the conditions that you never sue Troy Armitage or his parents for anything legal at all, never try to approach him for a meeting, and never talk to the media about Troy or his parents, you will be the sole beneficiary of a trust account of one million pounds. The full amount of the account will be invested in stock market index funds, and you can withdraw only thirty thousand pounds this year, equally divided into twelve monthly installments. Every year, your drawing limit would increase with the inflation rate, as long as you are alive. Upon your death, if anything remains in the account, it shall be returned to Troy. Troy has made a few additional conditions for your receiving this amount: that you shall never drink or do recreational drugs again, and that you should get a regular job, no matter what it earns. You will also continue therapy sessions for the foreseeable future. We will do random checks to ensure you comply with these conditions. I hope you fail the test because if you do, I will receive the full amount of your trust."

Carla was feeling a little dizzy from everything.

"Does Troy know about these conditions?" she asked hesitantly.

"It was his idea to begin with," Keith said candidly. "His parents didn't like it one bit. Honestly, neither do I. But I can only follow his instructions. So, what do you say?"

It didn't take her long to sign off on the document. She didn't like it, but she didn't have a choice.

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