Chapter 75
Chapter : Bringing the Magic of Movies to Hogwarts
---
Alex McKinnon-Black’s POV
The Pensieve Projector had become an unexpected phenomenon at Hogwarts. Originally, I’d envisioned it as a tool for memory exploration and education, but its potential for entertainment had quickly become apparent. I’d thought about how memories could be shared, scenes replayed, and visual storytelling brought to life. And now, the projector was proving wildly popular among students who had barely glimpsed the Muggle world before.
Even for me, it was humorous—and strange—to see pureblood wizards gathered around the projector to watch Muggle films. After all, the experience was entirely foreign to most magical folk. Hogwarts students were captivated by Star Wars, Jurassic Park, and classic Disney films, with some even trying to mimic what they saw on screen. The Pensieve Projector showed the power of Muggle creativity through a magical lens, and it was breaking down barriers I’d never expected.
At dinner, I joined Harry, Hermione, Daphne Greengrass, and a few other friends at the table. The conversation had already turned to the movies. Hermione’s face was lit up with excitement, while Daphne’s expression was more skeptical, her Slytherin reserve making her a touch cautious.
“So, you’re saying,” Hermione said, barely containing her enthusiasm, “that in the Muggle world, people watch these stories on screens all the time?”
“Exactly,” I replied, grinning. “Muggle technology has something like a miniature Pensieve of its own—it’s called television. But the projector makes it magical. Anyone with a memory, a story, can put it into the projector and let others experience it as if they were really there.”
Harry looked fascinated. “It’s amazing. It’s like seeing into a whole other world.”
Daphne leaned in, her eyebrows arched skeptically. “But…what about the ‘Force’? And lightsabers? None of that’s real magic, is it?”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “No, no. The Force isn’t real magic, though some wizards have tried to replicate it. The lightsaber’s fictional too. But the stories behind it—they’re powerful, Daphne. Even without magic, these stories show resilience, bravery, and friendship. That’s what draws people to them.”
Harry’s POV
Watching Star Wars for the first time was… something else. I couldn’t get the idea of lightsabers out of my head. And the way the Jedi used the Force—it was inspiring. I knew it was all just make-believe, but part of me wished I could do those things too. I wasn’t the only one either.
Fred and George had already started working on their own “lightsabers” in their free time. They claimed they’d be the first Jedi wizards. Their initial attempts were hilarious—a few discolored wands that glowed and hummed with strange charms, but they were determined.
“Can you believe them?” I whispered to Hermione, watching the twins from across the common room. They were attempting to duel with their new “lightsabers,” using charms to make them glow a brilliant red and blue.
Hermione rolled her eyes but laughed. “They’ll never give up, will they? It’s incredible that just one movie has made such an impact. Wizards are all about tradition, but look at everyone—it’s like they’ve all been enchanted by Muggle ideas.”
Daphne Greengrass’s POV
When I first saw a Muggle movie, I thought it would be childish and silly, but it surprised me. The projector showed stories in a way that even Hogwarts couldn’t replicate. Watching Star Wars with everyone was surprisingly… fun. The part where the Jedi talked about courage and sacrifice struck me deeply.
I returned to the Slytherin common room that night, and as expected, the conversation was all about the movies. Some of the purebloods in Slytherin didn’t know what to make of it. Blaise Zabini scoffed, calling it “pointless Muggle drivel,” while Draco sneered, rolling his eyes at the “ridiculous idea of a lightsaber.”
“Honestly,” Draco said loudly, “why are we even bothering with this nonsense? Wands are far superior to any Muggle ‘technology.’”
But not everyone agreed. Theodore Nott leaned forward, a slight smirk on his face. “Think about it, Malfoy. Even without magic, Muggles can create things like this projector. They can tell stories that affect people. Isn’t that… worth paying attention to?”
Draco waved it off, but the seeds of doubt had been sown. The projector had started a quiet, underlying debate within Slytherin. Some saw it as a threat to tradition, while others recognized it as something novel and transformative. And for once, Hogwarts felt like it was truly seeing the world through a new perspective.
---
In the Teachers' Lounge
The popularity of the projector had also caught the staff’s attention, and during the weekly faculty meeting, it became a topic of discussion.
“Are we really encouraging this… entertainment?” Professor McGonagall asked, raising an eyebrow as she sipped her tea. “It seems to be a distraction for the students.”
“On the contrary,” Professor Flitwick chimed in, “I believe it’s rather educational. They’re seeing different perspectives, even if it’s through fiction. And it’s fostering a kind of unity.”
Snape merely scowled, shaking his head. “It’s all nonsense. If anything, it’s filling their heads with unrealistic ideas.”
Dumbledore, however, chuckled softly. “Sometimes a touch of imagination is exactly what young minds need. There’s wisdom in stories—even Muggle stories. I, for one, am intrigued by the possibilities.”
The other teachers exchanged glances, some nodding in agreement, others remaining skeptical. But they all agreed on one thing: the projector had brought a wave of new energy to Hogwarts, and it seemed it would be here to stay.
---
Alex McKinnon-Black’s POV
As the popularity of the projector spread, I knew I had an opportunity. This world’s lack of media diversity and outlets meant that people were starved for content. Using what I remembered from the Muggle world, I’d started gathering a few trustworthy individuals—young Squibs and half-bloods in their twenties and thirties. Many of them were eager to work on something meaningful, especially those who had felt sidelined by wizarding society.
One evening, I gathered them at a hidden meeting room outside Hogsmeade. After explaining my idea, I noticed their eyes light up with excitement.
“We’ll be making comics, entertainment books, serialized stories,” I explained. “But with our own twist, using magic to enhance them and ensure privacy. No one outside the network will know.”
I’d also implemented magical contracts—NDA-style agreements that would prevent them from speaking about our work to anyone unaffiliated. This was essential for security and privacy, and for the project’s potential success.
Over time, our work grew into a fully realized media company. With comics, stories, and illustrations, we began publishing entertaining narratives that even purebloods found compelling. We used enchantments to make the stories more interactive and immersive—revolutionizing entertainment in the magical world.
Reflecting on all this, I realized that Hogwarts, and perhaps the whole wizarding world, was changing faster than anyone could have predicted. The projector had become a symbol of possibility—a bridge between worlds, carrying with it the stories of courage, resilience, and friendship that transcended even magic.
---
Harry Potter’s POV
Sitting with Hermione, Neville, Daphne, and a few others, I thought about how much had changed. Hogwarts felt more alive, more united. We were all seeing new perspectives and learning about a world we’d barely known before.
“I don’t know where Alex gets his ideas from,” Hermione murmured, “but I’m grateful he does. He’s shown us things I’d never dreamed of.”
Neville nodded thoughtfully, a hint of a smile on his face. “Maybe we’re all a bit more like those Jedi than we realized. We’re part of something bigger. And I think that’s just what we need.”
With that thought, we returned to our books, our discussions, and our dreams for a better, brighter world—one where we could all find a little more courage, imagination, and light.