Scarhead, Ginge, Emma, MrBonhamCarter
Scarhead created this group

Scarhead Wassap guys? This is the big one. The big G.O.

Ginge Wassap?

Scarhead Yeah, you know? WASSAAAP

Ginge Stop trying to make that happen, dude. It's embarrassing. Anyway... G.O.?

Scarhead Gary Oldman

Ginge Gary Oldman? Who's that? The new director?

Honestly, Rupert, don't you ever go to the cinema?

Ginge Um... yeah. Dan and I went to see Finding Nemo twice, I'll have you know.

Scarhead Er, I think you mean the new Matrix film, Rupe. Point is guys, Gary Oldman is like the godfather of actors. Which means we've finally made it to the big time - so don't screw it up.

MrBonhamCarter And who do you think Rickman is? The lowly janitor?

Ginge Seriously Felton, you need help.

As in Helena?

MrBonhamCarter What of it? She's fit.

Scarhead Hell yeah, she is! I wouldn't kick that sweet tittied milf out of bed, right, T-Dog? *High-fives MrBonhamCarter*

MrBonhamCarter ...

*****

Before I even set foot on the set for Prisoner of Azkaban, Dan had sent me an eighteen page handwritten letter on acting tips. Front and back.

I'm not going to lie, it was a complete insult. I was tempted to use it to line the cat litter tray, before sending it back to him. But I was worried Dan would somehow use his clout to get me fired from the franchise.

His obsession about working with Gary Oldman was quite alarming to say the least. It was as though he never considered the likes of Richard Harris, Dame Maggie Smith, or, as Tom pointed out, Alan Rickman to be acting greats. Not to mention the hundreds of others whom he has gotten to share scenes with over the rest of us.

The first thing I noted though when we commenced filming for the third instalment, was how grown up everyone was looking again.

Puberty, as my biology teacher would call it.

And boy, it did not help with my crush on Tom which seemed to fire up to new, alarming levels with each film.

But it was very much clear to me by this point that Tom only looked at me as a younger sibling. And really, I was alright with that, because I realised I'd rather be that to him than nothing at all.

Besides, now that he'd had some magic hair transformation, he began to get a lot of attention. I always thought he was beautiful, but now, as I walked on set for that third year, I could see he had very much grown into his looks and had become gorgeous.

It made me feel uneasy. Because now I would have to watch girls literally fall at his feet, knowing I could never be them.

But, I was a professional, and I would not let a silly little thing like infatuation get in the way of my art. And I was keen to impress the new director, Alfonso Cuaron.

"Ugh, teacher's pet," Rupert muttered under his breath when I handed in a twelve page assignment on Hermione Granger's character development.

"Where's yours?" I asked tartly, noticing he was empty handed.

"Didn't think my character would bother, to be honest."

Alfonso was so impressed with Rupert's answer, that he gave him the actor of the day gold star.

Bastards.

******

I was really starting to feel I was not fitting in. At age thirteen, I felt so much younger than everyone else, and the thought of doing five more films after this was daunting. It would literally be my entire childhood.

For six months I was tutored in a trailer alongside Dan and Rupert, both of who were forming a tight friendship. They weren't unkind to me or even left me out of anything, but they were ages fourteen and fifteen and it was difficult for me to form a bond with them, unlike our onscreen characters.

I was lonely. I had no girlfriends. Yes, I was friendly with Bonnie Wright and some of the others, but their parts were small and therefore I rarely saw them.

The only thing that brightened my days and made me want to get up in the morning were the times when Tom would come in for filming. And luckily, we shared a good few scenes in Prisoner of Azkaban.

"So, apparently they've upgraded the slap to a punch." Tom chuckled, waltzing unannounced into my trailer one day whilst I relaxed on the sofa going over my lines. "Who'dya sleep with to make that happen?"

My face grew instantly hot at his suggestion. I was just thirteen years old and had not even had my first kiss yet!

"Relax, Em," he smirked, upon seeing my horrified expression, "it's just a joke. We both know it was really a blowjob."

Pulling myself together, I picked up the nearest cushion and threw it at his head, messing up his perfect hair.

As he rushed to the mirror, hastily trying to rearrange his blonde bangs, he stopped short when he noticed the cage on my dressing table.

"Woah, what's that you got there?"

He bent down to take a closer look.

"A hamster," I sniffed, flicking through the script even though the last thing I was doing was concentrating on it.

"Hey, little fella," Tom murmured softly, poking a finger through the cage.

"It's not a fella, it's a she. And if she bites you, it'll only serve you right."

Tom straightened up and turned to look at me, frowning. "What's wrong, Em? You're being snappier than usual."

I looked up, feeling somewhat startled that he'd noticed anything was up at all. In all the weeks that I'd spent filming with Dan and Rupert, neither of them ever enquired after my well-being, let alone sensed something was wrong.

"I- uh- nothing. I'm just tired that's all."

Tom stared at me for a good minute, and I fidgeted uncomfortably beneath his gaze. I hated that he was so good looking, hated that he had the ability to make me feel so flustered all the time.

Without saying anything, he stepped towards me and took the script out of my hand, lowering himself down onto the coffee table opposite me so that our knees knocked together.

"Emma, please. We've been working together for the past three years now. I know you. I know something isn't right. You're feeling lonely aren't you? Stuck in this life with Dumb and Dumber as your only constant companions? I'd be depressed too."

I couldn't help it. I laughed. But then Tom always knew how to make me laugh. My laughter caused his eyes to crease at the corners as they twinkled back at me.

"Something like that," I shrugged, lifting a hand to shyly hide my smile.

He reached out and curled his fingers around my wrist, gently lowering my hand away from my face. "Don't hide your smile, Em. It's beautiful."

My heart stilled at his words and the breath all but evacuated my lungs. I tried to open my mouth to say something, but I couldn't speak.

"You're a brilliant actress," he continued, his eyes never leaving mine as he continued to hold on to my wrist. "And I promise you, if you walk away now, you'll regret it for the rest of your life. I know acting can be lonely at times. But you've got us, Em. You've got me. You can talk to me anytime, even when I'm not on set, I'm always at the end of the phone, or email, or whatever means of communication you prefer."

A genuine smile pulled at his lips, and I couldn't help but notice that up this close, he looked more beautiful than ever.

"Thank you," I whispered because I didn't know what else to say.

We sat there for a quiet moment, the silence surprisingly companionable. Then, without warning, he got to his feet, pulling me up with him.

"Come on, Toots, let's go and have a few rounds of ping pong. I've been practicing some new moves I want to try out on you."

I raised my eyebrows, my lips twitching up at the corners. "Toots?"

Tom shrugged, amusement dancing in his eyes. "I've always imagined if I had a little sister, then that's what I'd call her."

And I knew then that was Tom's way of saying 'It's never going to happen'.

Still, with him being three years older than me, it was hardly surprising.

Didn't stop it hurting like a bitch, though.

*****