Time flew by, and the years passed in a blur.
Isabella felt as if she had only just joined the back-to-back filming crew of Order of the Phoenix one moment, and the next had already received word that Goblet of Fire Part 2 was about to be released. That three months had vanished in the blink of an eye left her genuinely reflective.
Of course, this also proved, in its own way, that she had been working very hard.
Because only when a person is truly absorbed in what they're doing do they stop noticing time pass. So even though Order of the Phoenix had been filming for over a hundred days, Isabella hadn't felt it at all?
Wow.
This could only mean that Isabella was completely lost in the role!
That she was giving everything to Hermione Granger!
That she wanted to show the audience the very best of herself!
Cough, cough, cough —
Damn it!
Even just thinking that made her cringe.
Anyway —
The real reason Isabella couldn't feel time passing was that her working hours had grown longer. Britain's latitude was too high, and Order of the Phoenix had begun shooting at that precise point when golden autumn was quietly giving way to icy winter.
As autumn turned to winter, Britain once again sank into its state of short days and long nights. The days dwindled and the nights stretched, until there were fewer than eight hours of daylight — and Isabella, who had to work eight hours a day, found herself clocking in under a dark sky and clocking out under one just the same.
For anyone working in that unbroken darkness, with the only white light coming from overhead lamps, losing all sense of time was almost inevitable.
For most people, that kind of environment breeds irritability and restlessness — Norway, after all, with its polar extremes, is among the countries with the highest rates of depression in the world.
But Isabella didn't mind. In her previous life, she'd long since had her sleep schedule turned upside down. Day into night, night into day — she could manage any combination. That said—
Margot Robbie was clearly not used to it.
While helping Isabella into her gown, she wore an expression of pure, undisguised exhaustion.
"Oh, darling — were you out robbing people last night?"
The girl's hollow look made Isabella, adjusting her skirt in front of the mirror, laugh.
"Huh?"
Because Isabella didn't like strangers present while she dressed, only her own people could help her. Either her mother, her older sister, or Margot. Since her mother and sister were currently sorting through jewelry nearby, Margot was the only one at her side — so the moment Isabella spoke, Margot knew she was the one being addressed. She just had no idea what she meant.
She lifted her head instinctively, looking blank.
That dazed expression made her look unexpectedly adorable.
Seeing that her brain had clearly clocked out, Isabella smiled and tried again: "Darling, you've yawned right in front of me several times now. Did you not sleep well?"
"Our crew didn't have any night shoots yesterday. So — could it be that you were out stealing, and that's why you're dragging now?"
"Come on —"
"Margot Robbie!"
"What exactly did you steal last night?"
The sudden rise in volume made Margot flinch.
The absurdity of the accusation made her curl her lip. "My dear boss, is something wrong with you? It's winter in Britain. The temperature outside is already close to zero. Who goes out stealing in weather like that?"
"Never mind whether there's anything worth taking — just thinking about the clothes alone —"
"In this cold, a normal person dresses like a stuffed sausage. You can barely move. How would you steal anything?"
"Then what did you do last night?" Isabella pressed. "Don't tell me you stayed up all night on the internet again."
"Come on —"
"Were you out chatting with strangers online?"
Margot rolled her eyes dramatically.
She had just finished tidying the hem of Isabella's skirt and worked out how she'd manage the train later — so she planted her hands on her knees, stood up, and shot back: "Fine, you're absolutely right. I did go out stealing last night."
"But I didn't steal a thing. I stole a person."
"I crept into your room and slept with you. Don't you remember at all?"
"If you've genuinely lost that memory, I suppose I could help refresh it."
Before she finished speaking, Margot had already struck — the Dragon Claw Hand, with lightning speed.
"Ah — you lunatic!"
Isabella yelped at the sneak attack and slapped Robbie's arm away.
When she caught the wicked grin on Robbie's face, her indignation spiked further.
She reached out both hands and struck back.
The sudden skirmish made Vivian and Catherine — standing nearby sifting through jewelry — twitch at the corners of their mouths. They exchanged a glance, shook their heads, and chose not to intervene.
Work had been relentless lately, and Isabella had been quieter than usual for months. Seeing her suddenly playful again? In Vivian's and Catherine's eyes, that was nothing but a good sign.
Besides, they trusted Isabella to know her limits and not let the mischief bleed into work.
Of course Isabella wouldn't lose herself in the moment.
After subduing and appropriately punishing the insolent little rebel who'd dared to challenge her superior, Isabella — now in considerably better spirits — called in the costume designer and stylist who had been waiting at the door, asking them to put the finishing touches on her red-carpet look.
Today's gown was black, off-shoulder, with an exceptionally long train.
Goblet of Fire was the turning point of the HP story. Everything before it revolved around Hogwarts; after it, everything changed. As the series gradually darkened from that moment on, wearing a dark gown to the Goblet of Fire Part 2 premiere was, to most people, entirely fitting.
Once the designer and stylist had adjusted every detail and added sharply cut black gemstone earrings and a black-and-silver alternating necklace, something unmistakably high-end began to radiate from Isabella — a quality best described as mystery.
Satisfied that her look was perfect, Isabella settled onto the sofa — or as close to settling as a full gown allowed; sitting without crumpling it was achievement enough. She found a comfortable position, opened her laptop, and browsed while waiting for Margot to change.
Yes — Isabella's red-carpet companion tonight was Margot Robbie.
The reasoning was straightforward:
Walking the red carpet alone was dull. Margot was signed to her label, and if she didn't support her own people, who would she support? And since Transformers was set to open next summer — the one live-action film Isabella would put serious promotional weight behind next year — bringing Margot to events was also a way of warming up the public in advance.
A sensible plan. Reality, as ever, had other ideas.
Everyone following entertainment at this moment knew that Margot Robbie was the undisputed female lead of Transformers, and buzz around the film had already spread globally off the back of the earlier "YouTube lawsuit." But when Isabella walked Margot onto the Goblet of Fire Part 2 premiere red carpet, the world's attention remained fixed almost entirely on Isabella — on her home turf, in her element.
During the photo session, every cheer rose for her alone: "Isa! Isa! Isa! We love you!"
During the interview segment, the host's questions circled back to her: "Isa, Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest has just crossed one billion dollars at the global box office and is currently this year's worldwide champion. What are your thoughts on that?"
During the fan Q&A, it was the same:
"Isa! Now that you're incredibly wealthy — will you keep acting?"
"Isa! We heard you passed your GCSEs with straight A-plus grades. When are you sitting your A-levels? And which university are you thinking of?"
The adulation made Isabella genuinely happy — and gave her pause for thought.
The happiness needed no explanation. No one dislikes being liked.
The pause, though, was more of a quiet reckoning. In that moment, she finally understood why, in her previous life, so many celebrities who launched their own management agencies ended up falling short. When you are the only sun in the sky, your light drowns out everyone around you — effortlessly, and without intent. Or put another way: if the sun's brilliance could simply be shared, would it still be the sun?
There is only one sun. There can only be one.
She quietly squeezed Margot's hand, signalling her not to lose heart.
Then she raised the microphone and chatted warmly with her fans — her believers, really.
She said what everyone wanted to hear.
"Thank you all for coming to the premiere of Goblet of Fire Part 2. I love you too."
"I know Dead Man's Chest has already passed one billion dollars at the global box office, and it only took 63 days to get there. That's an incredible result. But what I want to say is —"
"Azkaban and Goblet of Fire Part 1 are both billion-dollar films, and Dead Man's Chest didn't break Goblet of Fire Part 1's record for reaching one billion. So now that Goblet of Fire Part 2 is about to be released, I believe this year's worldwide box office champion will still be our Harry Potter."
"They're about to become number two in the world."
"Although my contract with Warner is nearly up, I will finish filming HP — because it was your support that brought me to where I am today, and I won't abandon you and simply move on alone."
"I also want to say that I genuinely hope you'll help me create even more miracles in the future."
"Right now, a lot of outlets are saying that I've rewritten the traditional customer-acquisition logic of internet companies — that I've turned one of the hardest problems in the business into a relic of the past."
"All I can say to that is: yes, I really am a miracle girl. Because I uploaded one video to YouTube, and then countless numbers of you just... showed up."
"My influence scares them."
"As for which university I'll attend — I haven't actually decided yet. Order of the Phoenix Parts 1 and 2 won't finish filming until next summer at the earliest. After that, there's half a year of rest, then Half-Blood Prince, and then Rowling's final story — which hasn't been released yet, but it will be, and we'll need to film that too. Calculating it all out, the earliest I'll have any real time to myself is probably 2009 or 2010."
"So — I'll talk about university when the time comes."
"But please rest assured, I will go."
"Because my father's greatest wish, before he passed away, was to see my sister and me go to Oxbridge."
After nearly five minutes on the red carpet, Isabella finally took Margot's hand and walked into the cinema.
Margot had walked the red carpet with Isabella before. Back then, watching Isabella in her element had left her deeply envious.
But now —
Maybe it was Isabella's quiet reassurance earlier. Maybe Robbie had simply worked it out herself.
Either way, once the interview segment ended — having received only two polite, perfunctory questions of her own — Margot showed no sign of resentment. She slipped efficiently into the role of supporting leaf, helping Isabella and her long train navigate the entrance to the theater.
And while climbing the stairs, the cheerful Margot leaned over and whispered, "Are you really going to university?"
"Mm-hm."
"Why? I feel like every university in the world is underqualified to teach you at this point."
"Marg — when did you get so silver-tongued?"
Isabella glanced at her with a smile.
Seeing Margot wear an expression that said obviously, Isabella pressed her lips together and said, "Humility is the foundation of progress. I still understand too little about this world. I need to go to campus and recharge."
Margot didn't believe a word of it.
She rolled her eyes, dismissed the explanation as nonsense, and dropped the subject.
Isabella had no intention of elaborating. She smiled faintly and let it pass.
Her real thinking was straightforward enough.
If attending an elite university was the wish of many people who cared about her, then naturally she would satisfy that expectation. Would doing something as undemanding as enrolling in university really count as a sacrifice?
Besides, it wasn't as though university posed any real obstacle for her now. It was simply a matter of finding the time and having Oxbridge issue her a diploma.
Right?
Heh.
Since Isabella wasn't filming a vlog that evening, she spent only a few minutes in the reception hall before slipping off to the lounge to decompress. She returned to the auditorium when the screening time arrived and found her seat.
The lights dimmed. The screen came to life.
After the Warner and Harry Potter logos flashed past in sequence, Goblet of Fire Part 2 officially began.
All right — no more joking.
After the HP logo faded, the brightening screen revealed a conference room lit entirely by candlelight.
Flickering flames cast restless shadows across Hogwarts' ancient stone walls, while the dense cluster of figures around the table pulled every audience member in the theater straight into a tense, oppressive atmosphere.
Just as everyone was wondering which part of the book this scene came from — Goblet of Fire didn't seem to feature this kind of conference scene in most people's memories — Dumbledore, seated at the head of the table, spoke.
"I just asked Harry. He said he did not put his name into the Goblet of Fire, nor did he ask an older student to do it for him."
"Then he must be lying —"
Before Dumbledore could finish, Madame Maxime — headmistress of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and Hagrid's rumoured sweetheart — cut in sharply.
"Harry probably isn't lying! He couldn't possibly have crossed the Age Line Dumbledore drew! And I believe Harry did not persuade an older student to submit his name either!"
Professor McGonagall followed immediately, cutting Madame Maxime down with blunt, barely contained fury.
Not only that — she fixed Madame Maxime with a glare that could strip paint.
In a single exchange, the atmosphere in the room crackled with tension.
Before the two of them could come to blows, Karkaroff — headmaster of Durmstrang Institute — spoke up, his tone smooth and slippery.
"Mr. Crouch, Mr. Bagman — the two of you are our impartial adjudicators. I trust you also find what's happened today highly irregular?"
His attempt to redirect the issue made Ludo Bagman — Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports at the Ministry of Magic — glance sideways at old Barty Crouch beside him. Faced with his friend's silent plea for backup, the dour-looking Crouch said slowly, "The tournament rules are clear: whoever's name comes out of the Goblet of Fire must compete in the Triwizard Tournament."
"But this situation is deeply unfair to us!"
Karkaroff dropped the smile and said loudly, "Hogwarts has two champions. We have one. With Hogwarts holding a clear advantage in competitors, is there any real point in holding the Tournament at all? Why not simply hand the trophy directly to Hogwarts?"
"I have two proposals: either everyone re-registers and three champions are selected from scratch, or you allow the students of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons to continue submitting names until every school has two champions. Only then would this be fair."
"The difficulty is that the Goblet of Fire has already gone out."
Ludo Bagman shook his head with a regretful air. "It won't reignite until the next tournament."
"It won't reignite until the next tournament?" Karkaroff let out a sharp laugh. "If this tournament can't even be run properly, there won't be a next tournament!"
His face hardened, his eyes narrowing like those of a vulture fixing on prey, as he rounded on Ludo Bagman.
"Before this tournament was announced, we held countless meetings and worked through every detail. And still you've managed this. Frankly, I want to walk out right now."
"Bang —"
Overcome, Karkaroff slammed the table.
"Then go."
But his outburst didn't intimidate anyone. Instead, it drew a contemptuous roar from "Mad-Eye" Moody, seated at the far end of the table.
"Bluffing trash. If you've got the nerve, walk out. But your champion has to compete — because this is the Goblet of Fire's binding magical contract!"
The sudden exposure made Karkaroff's expression go rigid.
He snapped his head around and fixed Moody with a stare.
Moody met it without flinching.
"Everyone knows how the Goblet of Fire works. The magic it contains is far beyond any student's ability to deceive. So if Harry's name came out of it, that means someone with serious command of Confundus Charms put it in — framing him as a candidate from a fourth school, and making him that school's sole entry. Anyone capable of pulling that off is sitting in this room right now."
He paused.
"Karkaroff."
"You've been crying foul from the start. Because you know something, don't you?"
Moody stopped speaking.
He held Karkaroff's gaze from across the table.
In that moment, he looked like the embodiment of justice itself — as though he had seen straight through every conspiracy in the room.