"Hey! Hey! Hey!"
"Look at me! Look at me!!"
"Guess what I've got in my hands!!!"
New York.
Inside a high school in the Upper West Side—
A white boy burst into the classroom waving the latest issue of People magazine.
The moment the "Little Beaver" in wizard robes appeared, all chatter instantly froze. The excited buzz that had filled the room moments ago vanished in a heartbeat—
then, after two stunned seconds, exploded into a wave of cheers and excitement.
"People magazine?"
"Hermione??"
"Ohhhh—Hermione's on the cover of People!?"
A white boy pushed up his glasses in disbelief.
He honestly thought his eyes were playing tricks on him.
"Is there new news about Harry Potter?"
A white girl jumped in, eyes wide. "Is it something about Chamber of Secrets? Did Warner release new details??"
"Oh! I've been waiting for this day forever! Chamber of Secrets is my favorite book out of the four! I love Dobby the house-elf! So—is there anything about Dobby in there?"
"They wouldn't make Dobby look like Gollum, right? He's gotta be cute, right?"
"No, no, no—my guess is that it's an interview with Hermione Granger!"
A girl sitting near the back jumped to her feet and hurried over.
As the cover text came into focus, her grin grew brighter and brighter.
"OMG! I was right! Hermione finally did an interview? I've been waiting for this for so long! Let me see what it says! Are there photos? What about the others??"
"..."
The boy holding the magazine instantly became the center of the entire classroom.
When he finally handed it over and let everyone pass it around…
The classroom burst into joy.
No wonder.
How could it not? Harry Potter was huge—
and Warner Bros. had barely done any marketing for the main cast over the past two years.
Before Sorcerer's Stone came out, Warner didn't promote the trio much—because they didn't need to.
After the release, even when Warner started to market them, they didn't push too hard. The box office alone was enough to speak for itself, and since no one had renewed contracts yet, hyping up the young actors would've only hurt Warner's negotiating position later.
As a result, information about the HP cast had been scarce. Apart from tidbits from last year's premiere and scattered bits from the late promotional run, the IMDb pages for the child actors still listed outdated heights, weights, and half-empty bios—
far from enough to satisfy fans.
But today—
People magazine had an exclusive interview with Hermione Granger?
Ohhh~~
Every young fan's heart instantly ignited.
"Oh! It says Isabella caught Aunt Rowling's attention the very first day she auditioned?"
"She's seriously blessed by God!"
"Look! She also said that when filming Sorcerer's Stone, Tom (Draco) was the shortest in the group—but after one summer, by the time they started Chamber of Secrets, he'd caught up to everyone?"
"Tsk, did young Malfoy learn a height-growth spell or what? I want that one!"
"Wow~ Isabella also said Ron's favorite food is ice cream? That his dream is to own an ice cream truck and sell treats on the street? And Harry said he'd be his assistant?"
"Ahhh—that's such a cute dream!"
"Wait—she said her own tastes are different? She doesn't like sweet things? Not ice cream or lemon sherbets?"
"Pfft—"
"So Isabella's got a mild taste, huh?"
"No, no, no—that's why she's so pretty!"
"Huh?"
"Because she's sweet enough already—she doesn't need sugar to make her sweeter!"
"Hahahaha~~~"
Los Angeles.
Pasadena.
Inside a dorm room of a boarding high school—
Four tenth-grade girls were huddled together, devouring their own copy of People.
They were all Potterheads.
It started with the books, then the movies, and then—inevitably—the actors.
And they weren't loyal to just one favorite; they liked them all.
So when the magazine spilled all this new info, they were overjoyed.
It's normal for young people to gossip about stars.
As long as you don't steal your idol's underwear, talk all you want.
They eagerly read through all the behind-the-scenes stories about the actors—
then came the section about the film production itself.
And that was when—
"Wow~ look at this!"
"Hey! You guys! Look here!"
"Isabella said that to shoot the scene where Ron's spell backfires in Chamber of Secrets, the crew made tons of gummy props shaped like slugs? Every time they filmed Ron puking slugs, Rupert had to actually hold one of the slimy props in his mouth? And because they were covered in syrupy goo, whenever he spoke, he'd splatter it everywhere?"
"Ugh—that's disgustingly detailed!"
"Ew—I'm gonna be sick—"
"Change the subject! Change the subject! Look—Isabella said during the Knockturn Alley scene, Harry broke his glasses again? Oh~ that's exactly like in the book!"
"They really respect the original!"
"Totally!"
"Hey, what if we open a glasses shop next to their film set?"
"At the rate Harry breaks his glasses, we'd be millionaires by the end of one movie!"
"Hahahaha~ honestly, that's a good idea…"
Because People was Warner's partner outlet, the interview ran long—
a full five pages, not even counting the photos!
Since they were reading and chatting at the same time, it took the girls a full hour to get to the end.
At first, they thought the interview would be like others—some polite thanks, a few words about the upcoming release—
but when they reached page five…
"Wait—what's this?"
"Why's there something unrelated to HP at the end?"
One girl frowned. "It says the interview was done on set?"
Another read aloud: "Because Isabella was filming a mysterious new movie?"
The girl furthest away leaned closer, trying to catch every word:
"Her new movie is about dreams? She's the lead? And the director is… Chris Columbus?"
The last one squinted, reading further:
"It also says other confirmed cast members include Hannibal from The Silence of the Lambs, the robot boy from A.I., and one of the cops from Training Day? And it's supposed to premiere later this year—right after Chamber of Secrets?"
"Whaaa—"
All four girls gasped.
"Isabella has another movie this year? How did we not know about this!?"
The sudden news left the dorm room in chaos.
They all looked at each other, dumbfounded.
"No way, I'm going to the computer lab."
One girl stood up. "I'm checking IMDb to see if I somehow missed it."
"I'm coming!"
"Me too!"
They all hurried out, still muttering—
"I really don't remember any talk of a new movie."
"So we all just… collectively forgot?"
"No way! Must be that the media just never covered it!"
"..."
Hollywood's marketing system had always been precise.
In a sense, the later TikTok-style algorithm of "targeted audiences" and "precise delivery" was really just a digital version of Hollywood's tried-and-true playbook.
If your audience base is young people, then a People magazine feature hits way harder than a CNN ad. Sure, CNN's audience is bigger—but People's is smarter targeted.
And in marketing for entertainment products—movies, music, games, books—that precision matters more than raw numbers.
Because those things live or die by word of mouth.
If your first wave of exposure meets with indifference or bad reactions, your whole campaign flops.
So—first, seed the info to the fanbase.
Let them hype it up, flood it with praise, create data and buzz—
then when it finally reaches the general audience, what the public sees is a wave of excitement and positivity.
Yes.
"Astroturfing" existed long before social media.
And so, when Warner Bros.—a giant—took the wheel, Isabella's People feature spread like wildfire across the web.
First, young gossip lovers, Potterheads, and Isabella's fans lost their minds.
Then, IMDb, Yahoo Groups, and other online forums caught wind.
And finally, the wider public began to notice.
To the general audience, the first impression was clear:
Harry Potter fans were hyped.
Everyone was thrilled about Chamber of Secrets.
And this mysterious "new movie" from Isabella? Intriguing.
Then came the second impression—
"Huh?"
"What kind of crazy cast is this?"
"Directed by Chris Columbus?"
"Anthony Hopkins as supporting cast?"
"Jude Law and Christian Bale also starring??"
"OMG—are you serious!?"
The sudden info drop stunned the public.
Everyone's eyes went wide.
Because that lineup was just… absurdly stacked.
Chris Columbus needed no introduction—
everyone knew how strong he was commercially.
Anthony Hopkins?
A literal Oscar-winning legend, with countless classics under his belt.
And he was supporting Isabella?
That couldn't be right.
"Did People make a typo?"
The general public was baffled.
Columbus and Hopkins made sense—barely.
He had already worked with Isabella on Sorcerer's Stone and Chamber of Secrets.
Hopkins, at 65, was past his prime box-office years; it wasn't unusual for him to play supporting roles in younger, bigger films.
But Jude Law and Christian Bale?
Now that was shocking.
Law, born in '72, was only 30.
Bale, born in '74, was just 28.
Both were at the start of their careers—just entering their golden era.
So why would they be playing second fiddle to Isabella, a rising teen actress?
"This doesn't add up at all!"
People scratched their heads.
"Didn't Jude Law already play a male lead in a big commercial film last year?"
"That was Spielberg's 'Artificial Intelligence!'"
"And Christian Bale's already a supporting lead in commercial blockbusters, isn't he?"
"He and Jeffrey Wright were equals in 'Reign of Fire,' right?"
"By now, shouldn't both of them be leading men in serious dramas?"
"But in Isabella's project they're third and fourth billing?"
"Ohhh—what is even going on here?"
Everyone—literally everyone—who saw the scoop about The Voice was baffled. Because in Hollywood, actor hierarchy is a sacred religion.
And the math behind it is dead simple:
First, commercial success trumps everything.
Second, whoever can carry a blockbuster owns the kingdom.
Sure, the Oscars are the highest honor in Hollywood—but let's be real, no matter how many golden statues you hoard, if you can't pull in box office numbers, the Big Six see you as sidewalk decoration.
Leonardo DiCaprio proved that rule to perfection.
One Titanic, and the guy could dine off it for life. When your fanbase from a blockbuster can follow you into Oscar-bait films and still pay to see them, you become the only man alive who can get $20 million for a prestige drama.
Why do studios keep giving him Oscar projects? Because whatever he touches makes money.
Since those two golden laws are carved into every Hollywood agent's brain, People magazine's report made zero sense. Nobody could wrap their heads around why Jude Law and Christian Bale would voluntarily downgrade their billing just to support Isabella.
Not that Isabella didn't deserve attention—she did have Philosopher's Stone on her résumé.
A film nearing a billion at the box office puts her solidly in A-list territory. But still… one hit isn't a career, and that hit wasn't her miracle alone. The author was J.K. Rowling, not Isabella Haywood.
Still, because Harry Potter fans had already been primed with hype—and Isabella's own followers had flooded the early discussions—the campaign for The Voice looked like pure confidence.
By now, the public didn't question the scoop at all. Nobody yelled "fake news."
They just wanted to know what this untitled project actually was, and how it had ended up with such an absurdly stacked cast.
Of course, once the buzz started snowballing, the harmony didn't last. Hopkins fans, Bale fans, Law fans—they all had opinions. Loud ones.
On IMDb forums, Jude Law's fans were furious:
"I don't get it."
"What does Isabella have that Jude doesn't?"
"Why is he playing backup to her?"
"Does she even deserve that spot?"
Too bad for them—Warner Bros. had already stacked the deck. Isabella's fans were faster, louder, and organized. Any complaint thread was instantly buried under oceans of glowing posts.
Once capital starts strategizing, individual outrage doesn't stand a chance.
But if lone voices couldn't fight back, other corporate giants sure could.
When the Voice news reached peak visibility, USA Today's entertainment desk dropped a grenade of a column declaring that Isabella's new film would flop—
"To me," the critic wrote, "Miss Isabella's mysterious project feels like a child playing dress-up as an adult."
"It's doomed."
"The success of Harry Potter had little to do with its child actors."
"And I have proof."
"Before our little Miss Granger took on this 'new film,' the other two members of the Potter trio had already gone solo. Rupert Grint, who played Ron, filmed Thunderpants last year."
"Released this summer—total disaster. Budget: $7 million. Box office: $3 million."
"And if anyone wants to call that an exception, let's look at Daniel Radcliffe."
"Before Potter, he acted in The Tailor of Panama. Supporting role. The leads? Pierce Brosnan and Geoffrey Rush. Budget: $21 million. Gross: $28 million."
"Both boys flopped without Hogwarts behind them. So why should Miss Haywood's new film be any different?"
"Frankly, this so-called project feels like a toy Warner Bros. built to keep her happy long enough to renew her Potter contract. Azkaban and Goblet of Fire are already greenlit, and guess what? Nobody's signed yet."
"If her mystery film is just a shiny bribe, then success is off the table."
Boom.
The moment USA Today published that piece, America's media space detonated.
Because Isabella was riding Harry Potter's tidal wave.
People had the widest readership in the country, and USA Today was one of the four most influential newspapers alongside The New York Times, Los Angeles Times, and The Washington Post.
Two million copies sold daily. Six million readers.
Even factoring in audience overlap, that's still a reach in the millions.
And when a campaign hits millions, the ripple touches tens of millions.
There aren't even that many Americans!
So overnight, the entire nation was talking about Isabella Haywood.
Everyone was watching Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.
Everyone was gossiping about the trio.
Everyone had heard about Hermione Granger's "mystery movie."
Praise, rage, confusion, disbelief—it all blended into one massive noise.
Didn't matter. Noise was success.
As long as they were saying Isabella's name—and not "Who's Isabella Haywood?"—Warner's publicity team had done their job.
Now she wasn't just another child actor.
She was a national headline.
"Whoa… Hermione Granger's that popular?"
Disney.
Inside the "Dragon's Nest," Robert Iger raised his eyebrows at the report.
The data showed mostly positive reactions and massive anticipation. People liked the kid.
"It probably helps that Hopkins, Jude, and Bale are in it," his secretary said. "Without them, the buzz wouldn't have exploded like this."
Iger nodded. True enough. Those three might not draw fans like Isabella could, but they carried prestige. Without them as catalysts, there'd be no debate, no feeding frenzy, no viral storm.
Luck or not—luck counts as talent in Hollywood.
He skimmed the summary again and grinned.
Honestly, the more Isabella shined, the better for him—because her next film contract was sitting in his drawer.
And Disney had people working on her project too.
"If needed," he said lightly, "we'll give her a little push."
The secretary nodded. Everyone in the business knew Isabella looked like Warner's princess.
But if Disney had chips in play?
Well. If Iger planned to dethrone Michael Eisner, Isabella wouldn't be living off Warner alone.
(Heh.)
And over at Endeavor Agency, Patrick Whitesell was practically glowing.
Once The Voice news went nuclear, his phone wouldn't stop ringing—
"Yeah, Pat speaking—Tim Robbins? Oh, hey man! You wanna drop by the office? Always welcome!"
"...Yes, Pat here—Paul Walker? Right, The Fast and the Furious! Great movie! Golf tomorrow? Sure thing, I'll have my assistant set it up."
"...Uh-huh, more people asking about representation? Fine, just send me the list."
Everyone in Hollywood knew the legend—how Columbus got Harry Potter, and how Isabella landed it.
When the world remembered Spielberg and Rowling's feud, and suddenly saw their people collaborating on a new film—everyone lost their minds.
What the hell was going on?
People scrambled for answers, but the problem was simple: if you weren't important enough, you couldn't just call and ask.
So they went to the next best source—Endeavor.
After all, three of the actors in Isabella's movie were Endeavor clients.
When the industry caught onto that, jaws dropped.
Spielberg and Rowling's camps had been at each other's throats, and Endeavor managed to wedge itself right in? That's power.
If they could pull that off, maybe signing with them wasn't such a bad idea.
Whitesell couldn't sign Isabella herself—but who cared?
Standing beside giants makes you look like one too.
(Heh.)
And of course, if someone's grinning, someone else is fuming.
Case in point: Anne Hathaway.
When word reached her in Ireland's Ardmore Studios that Isabella's unnamed film was already blowing up before release, her eyes practically sparked flames.
"Bitch."
Note:
① Hollywood's hierarchy rises two ways: through blockbusters or through Oscars. The first is mainstream; the second is the crooked path. Those who climb via blockbusters have fanbases and ticket power, earning stable "10+10" or "20+20" paychecks. But the Oscar route carries a curse—the so-called "Oscar Jinx." It's the backlash of dark magic: win the award, raise your fee, then tank at the box office until nobody hires you again.