"I knew you were lying, Helen." Betty smiled viciously, keeping her voice low enough that no nearby adults would overhear. "You don't know any celebs, let alone Harry Potter."
Helen's hands curled into fists at her sides. She hated Betty. Betty was the one who had told everyone at school that Helen was lying about Troy being her brother. And the worst part was that she had no way to prove otherwise. No pictures. No home videos. Nothing to show the world that her older brother was actually world-famous.
Troy was supposed to come today. He had promised. But he didn't show. It's so unfair, Helen thought bitterly. Now, everyone would think she made it all up.
"Look, Helen is crying!" Betty crowed triumphantly, her voice louder now as a few other girls giggled. "I told you the truth would come out today, didn't I?"
Helen wiped her eyes quickly and turned away, her face burning. Without a word, she ran inside the house, away from the laughter and backyard decorations. Away from what was supposed to be her day. She didn't want to be around the other girls anymore. They weren't her friends, not really.
She reached her bedroom and shut the door behind her. But she knew her parents would come looking if she just lay on her bed, so instead, she climbed into the closet and pulled the doors shut. It was cramped and dark inside, filled with dresses and old toys. But at least no one could see her crying here.
Minutes passed. Maybe five. Maybe more. Then the closet door creaked open without warning, and the light from the hallway spilled in. Her dad stood there.
"Go away," she muttered, not looking at him. "I don't want to see anybody. Leave me alone."
"Is it because of Troy?" he asked gently, crouching down to her eye level. His voice was soft. "Love, he's a very busy man. And you two just met for the first time. He might've forgotten it's your birthday today. But don't worry—he'll come around. I'm sure he'll apologize for being late."
Helen didn't reply. She folded her arms across her chest and turned her face to the wall of the closet.
Her dad chuckled. "Are you trying to be Tom Cruise in that South Park parody? You know, the one where he won't come out of the closet?"
Helen frowned. "Who?"
"Forget it," he said, shaking his head with a smile. "Listen, baby girl. The clown and the magician are here, waiting for you. If you don't come out now, they're going to start performing for the other kids instead."
"But Betty said mean things to me!"
Her father hummed thoughtfully. "Don't let her ruin your day. You don't want her to have all the fun while you're in here, do you? If you stay hidden, she wins. The best way to deal with bullies is to show them their words don't mean anything to you."
Helen considered that. When he puts it like that…
"I'm going out," she declared, standing tall and brushing her hands over her skirt as she stepped out of the closet.
She walked with purpose towards the backyard. Behind her, she thought she heard her dad chuckle, but she didn't look back. She had a point to prove. Betty would see that Helen didn't care what she said. She was going to enjoy her birthday.
As for Troy? She wasn't going to talk to him ever again.
When Helen finally stepped out of her room, the sound of laughter led her back to the backyard. The magician and clown were already in the middle of their act, entertaining the group of children who were gathered around in a semicircle.
The magician looked striking in a set of flowing purple robes, a matching cape fluttering behind him dramatically as he moved. A tall top hat perched on his head, and a sleek half-mask—also purple—covered the upper part of his face, giving him an air of mystery. He was shuffling a deck of cards at a speed that seemed almost impossible to Helen. The rapid flicker of the cards mesmerized a small crowd of kids watching wide-eyed.
Beside him, the clown offered a more chaotic sort of appeal. He wore a wild green wig that looked like it had been electrocuted, along with a white face mask that only added to the ridiculousness of his expression. His costume was a riot of color—patches of red, yellow, blue, green, and orange clashed in every direction like a rainbow gone rogue. He was juggling three water balloons, each one wiggling and wobbling through the air.
The crowd gasped as he lost control. One balloon smacked into his masked face and burst, soaking him. The second and third followed seconds later, splashing across his chest and shoulders until he stood completely drenched from the waist up.
The yard erupted with laughter.
The clown bowed dramatically, dripping water as he declared in a cartoonish, high-pitched voice, "I'm sorry. I'm a bad clown."
The way he said it—half defeated, half exaggerated—sent the kids into even more hysterics. Helen couldn't help but crack a small smile, even if she tried to stay mad.
At the center stood an older girl, who seemed to be running the show. Unlike the performers flanking her, she wore a sleek black business suit and had her dark hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. Oversized glasses with a dark tint covered nearly half her face, giving her a mysterious, almost secret-agent-like vibe.
She looked vaguely familiar, but Helen couldn't quite place her. Something about her stance tugged at a memory.
"So, kids," the girl called out in a peppy tone, "are you ready for today's show?"
Her voice had a strange accent—one Helen recognized from movie trailers. American, maybe? Kind of like the one Troy used in the trailer for that scary film her parents wouldn't let her watch, the one called…Disturbed.
"YES!" the children yelled in chorus.
"Good," the girl said, her mouth curving into a smile. "We even have the birthday girl here with us. Come on over, Helen."
Everyone turned towards her. Helen blinked in surprise as the older girl gestured to a seat placed right in the center.
"Take a seat," she offered warmly.
Helen walked over and sat down quietly. From this spot, all the other kids stood behind her like a royal audience. She felt like a princess on a stage.
The girl leaned forward slightly. "I've heard a little rumor that someone here really wants to see a magic trick."
The question was clearly aimed at Helen, but the entire room shouted at once, "WE DO!"
"Perfect. Because today, we have the best magic trick for you," she said with a wink, then turned dramatically toward the magician. "James, if you will."
The magician gave her a brief look, something about it unreadable, then stepped forward and took center stage with a theatrical sweep of his cape.
"Alright," he boomed in a deep, gravelly voice. "Girls and Gentleboys!"
More giggles erupted at his twist on the classic phrase.
"For today's trick," he said, pausing for effect, "we'll be performing the Vanishing Carousel."
He pointed toward the back of the yard, where a makeshift curtain had been strung up between two poles. It billowed slightly from the breeze, adding an extra air of suspense.
How had she missed it until now?
The clown stepped forward and pulled the curtains aside with a dramatic flourish, revealing a strange contraption behind them. It looked like a merry-go-round, but instead of ponies alone, it had colorful hula hoops fastened to the top of each one, giving it a surreal, homemade twist.
With a grin, the clown pressed a bright red button on the base of the device. The carousel began to spin—slowly at first, the soft creak of gears audible in the quiet—but it quickly picked up speed until the ponies and hoops blurred into streaks of motion.
"Pick a color, any color—but don't say it out loud," the magician called, projecting his voice. "And whatever you do, don't stop staring at the carousel."
He pointed to a quiet boy standing to the side. "You, little boy. Look at the carousel and think of a color."
The boy, looking startled, nodded and fixed his eyes on the spinning blur. Helen did the same, her pulse quickening.
Green, she decided silently. The same shade as her and Troy's eyes.
The carousel continued to spin for a few more seconds before gradually slowing. Helen leaned forward slightly in anticipation, eager to see what would happen next, when smoke suddenly obscured her vision.
Gasps echoed from every corner of the yard.
A moment later, the smoke dissipated enough to let her see, only to realize that the carousel was gone.
Not just the carousel. The clown, the magician, and the assistant were nowhere in sight either.
The place was silent for half a second. Then came a sound that made every kid in the room snap to attention: the unmistakable notes of the Harry Potter theme began to play softly from behind the curtain.
A burst of confetti shot into the air, followed by more of that white smoke from earlier that rolled across the floor from under the curtain, curling around their feet. Oohs and aahs erupted as the children surged forward, curiosity lighting up their faces. Helen was glad no one blocked her view.
The curtain was drawn back once more.
Standing center stage, just as they had been before, were the magician, the clown, and the assistant. But this time, something had changed.
The assistant reached up and removed her oversized sunglasses, then tugged free her ponytail.
Gasps filled the room.
It was Emma Watson: Hermione Granger herself.
Next, the magician removed his hat and purple half-mask. Underneath was Jamie Bell, known to every kid there as Ron Weasley.
All eyes turned toward the clown. By now, the kids were practically buzzing, waiting for the last reveal. Slowly, the clown peeled off his mask and removed the ridiculous green wig.
Helen's breath caught.
It was Troy.
Troy Armitage. Her brother. And the boy who played Harry Potter.
"Happy Birthday to my sweetest little sister," Troy said, his voice loud and clear as he stepped forward, dropping to one knee to wrap Helen in a warm, tight hug.
"Sorry we missed the start of the party," he added as the yard buzzed with squeals of excitement. "I just wanted to give you a surprise. Did you like it?"
Helen could barely speak. For a moment, she'd truly thought he'd forgotten. But he hadn't. He'd come, and he'd brought Hermione and Ron with him.
"I loved it! Thank you for coming, big brother!" she shouted, hugging him even tighter.
"Don't thank me until you've seen your gift."
Helen grinned. She was desperate to know what it was, but there was something else she had to do first.
She turned toward the right, where Betty stood frozen like she'd swallowed something sour.
"Ha! I told you he's my brother! Suck—"
Before she could finish, Troy gently placed a hand on her head.
"Why don't we cut the cake now?" he said with a calm but pointed look. It was the same look her Mum gave her whenever she did something wrong.
So she dropped it.
"Yay!" shouted several of the kids, now completely surrounding the three stars in wide-eyed awe. The party had only just begun.
(Break)
"You owe me big time, Troy," Emma said as we drove away from my sister's party. "Do you have any idea how much I could theoretically charge for attending a child's birthday party?"
"You want money?" I glanced at her with an arched eyebrow. "Name your price."
"Nah," Jamie answered for her with a smirk. "We'd rather call in a favor."
I gave them both a narrowed look. "Are you colluding against me? Your childhood friend? That's unbecoming of Gryffindors."
Emma scoffed. "What friend? I thought I was just 'Somebody That You Used to Know'."
Ouch.
That line hit harder than she probably meant it to. The song had been a little too close to home. We'd agreed to stay friends, but then she changed her number and ghosted me for a while. So yeah...
"Oh, come on," I said, brushing it off. "We're ancient history that no one even knows about. I wouldn't complain if you wrote songs about me."
She looked at me sidelong. "Which songs on your second album are about me, by the way?"
I just shook my head with a small smile. "Guess. I haven't told anyone, and I don't plan to."
Emma raised an eyebrow. "Unless I use my favor to make you tell me?"
"Exactly."
She considered it for a second before shaking her head. "Keep your secrets then."
Jamie leaned towards me. "I know what I want for my favor."
"Oh?" I said. "Let's hear it."
He suddenly looked nervous, which wasn't like him. "Okay, I know this is a huge ask, and it probably doesn't equate to entertaining a bunch of kids, but I thought—since we're friends—you might…"
"Jamie." I cut him off gently. "Spit it out."
He sighed. "All my films besides Harry Potter have flopped. I started out getting decent leads, but now I'm barely getting supporting roles. I just... I could really use your help landing a part."
He wasn't wrong. Outside of Harry Potter, Jamie hadn't had any breakout roles. Last year, he tried pushing to play a bolder character in a gritty indie film—lots of mature and bold content, including a sex scene—but Warner Bros. shut it down immediately.
To this day, I still have no idea how Daniel Radcliffe managed to get away with doing Equus in the original timeline, when neither Jamie nor I are allowed to touch anything remotely provocative.
"Would you be willing to get buff?" I asked. "I've got a script I was considering for myself. It's a pure popcorn movie. For it to work, we need someone girls will swoon over. It also has a few shirtless scenes. And you'll have to nail an American accent."
"I'll do it," Jamie said, almost too quickly. "Whatever it takes. I'm in."
I smiled. "You didn't even hear what the role is."
Jamie shrugged. "If you were considering it for yourself, I trust your vision."
That caught me off guard in the best way. After a moment, I said, "Actually, I have three roles in mind. I'll ask Tobias to send you the scripts. All three could be huge if done right. You can pick whichever one you want."
"Thank you, Troy." His voice held more weight than I expected—grateful, almost relieved.
I nodded, then turned to Emma. "What about you? Want a role too?"
"You know that I'm focusing on my education," she replied, crossing her arms.
She wasn't wrong. She'd followed my lead and finished school a year early. Now she was enrolled at Oxford, studying English Literature—definitely not the path she took in the original timeline. She was supposed to attend Brown University in the US. A subtle but telling shift about how my presence was affecting this timeline.
"I'll ask for something in the future," she added with a sly smile.
"Fair enough." I grinned. "Alright, come on, guys—we've got interviews to do."
"I hate press junkets," Emma groaned.
I chuckled. "You'll survive. You've got your ex-boyfriend and your brother to back you up."
"Both of whom I'll have to kiss in the next movie," she deadpanned.
"As I recall, you didn't mind kissing me last time," I teased, waggling my eyebrows. "Or is it Jamie that repulses you?"
"I'm literally right here," Jamie said dryly.
Emma just shook her head, refusing to dignify the question with an answer, but there was a twitch of a smile on her lips.
"You know," I said, glancing between them, "I've missed this. The three of us, messing around like this."
"Me too," they both said at the same time, then looked at each other and laughed.
"I can't wait for us to start shooting the seventh movie this coming summer."
"Same here," Emma said warmly.
Jamie nodded. "It's going to be epic."
________________________
AN: Visit my personal website to read ahead, or check out my second Hollywood story set in the 80s.
Link: www(dot)fablefic(dot)com