"So this is your masterpiece?" Dad asked the moment I reached him, his eyes still gleaming with the afterglow of the screening.
"You tell me," I replied with a shrug, trying to sound casual. "My performance is only as good as the audience thinks."
Before Dad could reply, Mum pulled me into a tight hug, practically squeezing the breath out of me. Her voice was filled with emotion as she said, "It was simply out of this world, son. I haven't seen this level of performance, especially in a blockbuster-level action movie."
"Thanks, Mum," I said, hugging her back, letting myself relax for a second in her familiar warmth. "I don't know why, but I had a feeling that you'd be mad at me."
"Oh, I am mad at you," she replied, suddenly serious as she pulled away. Her signature glare, the one that had silenced me since childhood, was back in full force. "But I've accepted that you're not my little boy anymore. Just give me a heads-up next time you do something mad like this."
"I will," I promised. "But if it's a movie like this, where secrecy is crucial for success, no promises."
Mum rolled her eyes, clearly not thrilled, but she didn't push the issue further.
"So, will you be doing promotions for [The Dark Knight]?" Dad asked, adjusting his blazer as he eyed me with curiosity.
"No," I shook my head. "The team decided to let my presence spread through word of mouth. Even the reporters who were here tonight have been asked to hold the spoilers and my interview for two weeks."
Dad nodded, absorbing the strategy. "But you'll have to do press during the award season."
I paused, considering that. He was right. I hated the whole awards circus in Hollywood, but if you wanted to win an Oscar, sometimes you had to play the game. The only time I didn't have to was for [The Sixth Sense], and that was only because I was too young and inexperienced. During [The Perks of Being a Wallflower] and [Echoes of You], I had to do everything—interviews, talk shows, red carpet parties, and every other overhyped appearance they could schedule. It had been exhausting.
At this point in my career, I could afford to skip it. But it wasn't just about me anymore. My choices affected the entire team behind the film.
In the original timeline, [The Dark Knight] had been famously snubbed in the Best Picture category. Yes, the Academy's aversion to superhero films played a part, but I strongly believed the bigger issue was the lack of campaigning from the cast. Aside from Heath Ledger, whose tragic death became a defining narrative, no other actor was even shortlisted, which meant no one campaigned. And in the Oscars, actors made up the largest voting branch. There were four acting categories compared to just one for other departments. When actors campaign, it gives a film real momentum.
"Yeah, I guess I'll have to," I finally said, nodding more to myself than to anyone else. "But that's still half a year away. Let's focus on the now."
I turned toward them with a smile. "Scarlett and I will both fly back with you two to London to start work on [Harry Potter]."
Dad raised an eyebrow, his tone laced with curiosity. "She doesn't have a movie lined up?"
I shook my head. "She's taking a break so that we can be together. If something comes up in Britain, she might take that, but nothing in Hollywood right now."
"Did you suggest that?" Mum asked, tilting her head slightly as she studied my expression.
"No," I said quickly. "I would never ask her to compromise her career for mine."
Mum nodded with a satisfied smile. "Good to know you two have your priorities straight. I just hope you don't surprise me with a grandchild any time soon. I'm too young to be a granny."
"Ugh, Mum," I groaned, half-turning away in embarrassment.
"What?" she replied, her face the picture of innocence. "Maybe in a few years, if you're still together, but not right now."
I shook my head, trying to maintain my composure. "Just… don't say things like that to Scarlett and scare her away."
Both Mum and Dad burst into laughter. I didn't join in. I never found it funny when my parents made comments about my sex life. As much as I appreciated their openness, there were some lines that didn't need to be crossed. And that was coming from someone who had lived an entirely different and very colorful kind of life in another timeline.
Wanting to steer the conversation back into safer territory, I shifted gears. "So, I heard you're producing some great TV content in the UK?"
Mum's face lit up instantly. She straightened with pride. "Yes, I am. Living with you and Evan, I think I've become something of an expert on teenagers. [Skins], which came out last year, has been E4's highest-rated drama. And our newest show, [The Inbetweeners], is slowly picking up momentum. It's already being called the best new comedy on television."
She leaned in slightly, clearly in her element now. "But that's not all. Our next show, [Merlin], is premiering on BBC One in September. It's fantastic—family-friendly, high fantasy, with a twist on the Arthurian legend. And we're currently filming the second season of [The Night Of]. We're turning it into an anthology series—same theme, different actors and stories each season."
After the success of [The Night Of], Mum had taken a bold step and left her position at the BBC to launch her own production company. But I had suggested a more strategic route—one both she and Dad had ultimately embraced.
Earlier this year, after the FBI raid, I had proposed a merger between Kloves Productions—Dad's company, which held the rights to [Harry Potter]—and Phoenix Studio, my company, which owned everything I had produced up to that point. Given the immense value of the Harry Potter franchise, I offered to take only a 30% stake in the merged entity, leaving the remaining 70% with my parents. It seemed fair to me. Phoenix's entire filmography had grossed around $3 billion, while the [Harry Potter] films had raked in nearly $7 billion. A 3:7 ratio felt right.
I had expected Dad to push back, maybe even launch into a full negotiation. Instead, he'd done the opposite. He insisted on giving me a 70% share, keeping only 30% for himself.
"I own [Harry Potter] today because of you," Dad had said when I asked him why. "I'd decided pretty early on that all rights and income from the series would go to you in my will. I wouldn't mind handing it over now."
Despite some serious arguments from my side, Dad refused to budge. Even Mum supported him. Eventually, I had no choice but to give up.
Long story short, a new branch of Phoenix TV was launched in London, headed by Mum. Through it, she produced two of the most era-defining shows in British television in recent years. [Skins] and [The Inbetweeners] were massive hits, capturing youth culture in a way no other shows had at the time. As if that wasn't enough, [Merlin] gave her the creative grounding she needed to move into the fantasy genre—valuable experience for the biggest project still looming on the horizon: [Game of Thrones].
But I didn't want to get into that just yet. It was a monumental undertaking with a colossal budget, and it would need both my parents involved to truly make it shine. For now, our focus had to remain on finishing [Harry Potter].
"Hey, Troy!" a male voice called out from behind.
I turned and spotted a man approaching with a wide grin. His pace was casual, but the excitement in his eyes was unmistakable.
"Hi, Rod," I said, shaking the film critic's hand. He was one of the good ones—fair, intelligent, and someone who genuinely seemed to care about the art. I didn't usually read reviews myself, but Benji did, and he kept me updated on which critics appreciated my work and which didn't.
"I can see you're busy," Rod said, glancing toward Mum and Dad. "So I'll make it quick. Just wanted to say that that was one of the best performances I've ever seen. Right up there with Daniel Day-Lewis in [There Will Be Blood]. I'd bet every dollar I have that you're going to win big next year."
"Thank you," I replied sincerely, grateful for the praise.
"Just one question before I go," he added. "How did no one recognize you while shooting the funeral march where the Joker fires at the mayor?"
I gave a knowing smile. "That's movie magic for you. I shot that scene alone in front of a green screen. If you look closely, my face only appears in close-up shots. For the wider shots, when they filmed with the crowd and the actual procession, they used a stunt double."
Rod nodded in understanding. "Makes sense," he said, then gave me a friendly wave before walking off.
True to his word, he hadn't taken much of my time, but his quick visit had set a precedent. Now that people realized they could approach me, more of them started doing just that.
"Troy! We both are your biggest fans!" a girl exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion. She was about my age, leaning into the arm of a boy who looked equally starstruck.
From the corner of my eye, I spotted my security team hovering nearby, ready to intervene at the slightest sign of trouble. They were subtly guiding people away from me, creating a protective buffer. I was more than a little grateful. These two fans must have been incredibly crafty to slip through the gaps and make it all the way to me.
I grinned at the girl and gently took her hand in mine. "Well, if you'd met me a few months ago, you would've been much more than just a fan. You're absolutely beautiful." I leaned forward and kissed the back of her hand softly.
She sagged against the boy beside her—probably her boyfriend, based on how close they seemed. "My life is complete now, Austin," she said breathlessly. "Kill me now before something bad happens."
I couldn't help but laugh at poor Austin's expression. He looked like he wanted to vanish into the floor.
"I don't get it," I said, chuckling. "Why do my fans always talk about dying when they meet me? Am I that bad?"
"Yesterday," Austin replied dryly, "I would've said no. But after seeing you play the Joker, yes. Definitely yes."
He pulled a Sharpie from his pocket and offered it to me. "I don't have anything for you to sign except my shirt. That okay?"
He was wearing a green T-shirt with silver highlights.
"You had to wear Slytherin colors, didn't you?" I joked, but took the marker and signed the back of his shirt when he turned around. "Why did you even bring a Sharpie if you didn't bring anything to sign?"
He shrugged. "It's a premiere. Figured it couldn't hurt. I'm not really a fan of anyone else here, but some stars get offended if you don't ask for an autograph."
"Fair enough," I said with a nod. "But trust me, only small-time actors get offended about stuff like that."
"Ooh, sign mine too!" the girl said excitedly, turning around and pulling her hair aside. "I'm Marissa, by the way."
"Here you go, Marissa," I said, signing her shirt carefully. "Did you both have a great time tonight?"
"It was the best," she gushed. "The movie was amazing, but meeting you? That was the highlight. I'm never taking this shirt off."
I laughed and pulled her into a light hug. "Now don't tell me you're not going to shower either."
"I won't," she said, dead serious.
Shaking my head, I glanced over to where my parents were now deep in conversation with someone from Warner Bros.
"As much as I'd love to keep talking," I said with a smile, "I need to get going."
I waved goodbye and turned to head toward Mum and Dad—but just as I reached them, someone intercepted me.
A man stepped in front of me, someone I hadn't expected to see tonight.
Or ever.
Because in the original timeline, he was supposed to be dead.
The sight of him froze me in place. My mind went completely blank.
I was speechless.
"You were amazing in this movie, Troy," Heath Ledger said, flashing a wide grin as he clasped my hand in a firm shake. "Chris offered me the role, but after watching what you did with it, I'm pretty sure I couldn't have pulled it off like that."
Standing beside him was Michelle Williams, her eyes bright with warmth. "I have to agree with Heath. That was the best villain performance I've seen in a long time."
I somehow managed to compose myself and returned their smiles. "Thanks, Heath. Michelle." I turned to Mum and Dad, who had started watching us with a mix of surprise and recognition. "Mum, Dad, remember Michelle from [Sex Ed], all those years ago?"
"Of course," Mum said, beaming before wrapping Michelle in a hug. "It's so good to see you again. You're doing such amazing work. I've seen everything you've been in."
"Thank you!" Michelle said, genuinely pleased.
The four of them quickly fell into conversation, leaving me the space I needed. I stepped back a little, retreating into my thoughts.
This... was not something I'd prepared for.
When I took on the role of the Joker, I'd carried Heath Ledger's performance in [The Dark Knight] in the back of my mind like a compass. His portrayal was legendary, the benchmark. I copied him to the best of my ability, even mimicking his methods, like watching videos of hyenas to build physicality, or isolating myself in hotel rooms for weeks, just to tap into the same madness he had captured so perfectly.
But now, Heath was standing here. Alive. Smiling. Healthy.
And I couldn't stop thinking about the implications.
In the original timeline, he should have died months ago. That performance, as brilliant as it was, had come at a heavy cost. But in this life, by taking the role myself, had I saved him? Had I inadvertently changed the outcome, spared him the downward spiral that consumed him? Or was it the butterfly effect in general that did the work?
Was that why he was still with Michelle? They had split by now in the timeline I remembered, but here they stood together, close and content.
I felt no guilt for taking the role away from him. I had long outgrown my tendency to do that years ago, but still, I couldn't help but think about the changes my presence brought on the timeline.
After checking in with Scarlett, who told me she was planning to stay over at Hunter's tonight, I gave a discreet signal to my security team. They moved with quiet precision, clearing a path for me without creating a scene.
I needed solitude, a chance to think clearly. My hotel room will do for now.
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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