Susie Figgis was a veteran of the film industry, having entered the business back in the 1970s.
She was the casting director for Gandhi (1982), which won the Oscar for Best Picture. She also handled casting for Chaplin (1992, starring Robert Downey Jr.) and Interview with the Vampire (1994, with Tom Cruise).
Over three decades she had seen more than her share of beautiful faces, but even so, she had to admit—Isabella's sudden appearance took her by surprise. The girl was strikingly pretty in her white dress, giving her an almost ethereal purity. When stepping down from the car, she lowered her eyes carefully to watch her step, then once she was down, her curious gaze swept around to take in her surroundings. The way she combined caution with liveliness was perfectly natural.
Most importantly, when she introduced herself, Isabella didn't show the awkwardness that children often had when meeting strangers. Instead, she lifted her chin and looked her straight in the eye. Her lake-blue eyes brimmed with curiosity and confidence. She smiled openly, extended her hand on her own—an unmistakable sign of an outgoing personality.
No hesitation, just a polite handshake and greeting.
After a few words of small talk, when Susie realized Isabella's arrival was completely unplanned, her eyes flickered with surprise.
Then, decisively, she welcomed the two girls in, introducing herself as the former casting director of the project and J.K. Rowling's friend.
She led them into what used to be her office, asked what they'd like to drink. Even when both politely declined, she sent her successor Jessie to fetch something anyway. While they waited, the conversation continued.
"Ah, Isa—may I call you that?"
Susie, a kindly-faced woman in her fifties, smiled warmly.
"Of course~" Isabella nodded sweetly.
Even without being Rowling's friend, a smiling, kindly adult was always easier to win favor with than a cold one. Of course, that connection didn't hurt either.
"Alright, Isa. So you mean, before showing up here today, you'd never sent us a message, never attended any of the open auditions, and just came directly to Leavesden?"
"Uh… if this place is Leavesden, then yes, I suppose your summary is accurate, Aunt Susie."
Isabella tilted her head thoughtfully.
The gesture made Susie's eyes crinkle in amusement. "Well, that's very bold of you. Most people send in résumés or videotapes. I can't think of anyone who's ever mailed themselves in."
"Hm… I don't think my behavior counts as mailing, exactly." Isabella pointed at Katherine. "This is my sister. She brought me here. So if I had to describe it, I'd say what we did today is more like… food delivery."
She even mimed holding up a phone.
"Hello? Is this Miss Susie Figgis? Your takeaway has arrived."
"What? You're Susie Figgis, but you didn't order any food? Oh, that doesn't matter."
"You see, in the takeaway business, it's common to deliver the wrong thing, or leave things out, or show up at the wrong address. So, are you hungry? You are? Then come claim your order."
"Hahahaha!"
Susie burst out laughing, clutching her sides.
"Wonderful, darling. I'm hungry. Let's open this blind box, shall we?"
She got the joke.
Delivery services had existed for centuries, but the first real industry was in Britain during the Industrial Revolution. Before that, most Britons lived in the countryside, with their own cows and fresh milk every day. When they moved into the cities, they no longer had that, so milk delivery began. That was Britain's first widespread home delivery service.
In fact, London once had a famous milk brand called Clarke. But with low literacy levels at the time, deliverymen often misread or couldn't read addresses, so misdeliveries became common.
And what could the customer do? Complain? The milkman would just say: "So what if it's the wrong house? Do you want fresh milk or not? If you do, pay up!"
Sold by the pint, standardized. That was the rough-and-tumble British delivery system.
Even now, things weren't all that different—deliver first, collect money after. If the courier brought back the payment, bosses didn't care if it went to the right house. For the people who ended up with the wrong order, it was basically opening a blind box.
Yeah. This is a blind box.
While they were chatting, Jessie returned with drinks. When she learned they'd compared their visit to a food delivery, she laughed too. With everyone gathered, the audition could finally begin.
Jessie set up a DV camera on the table, pointing the lens at Isabella. All auditions had to be recorded.
Katherine was asked to sit nearby but off-camera—legally, minors couldn't audition alone.
A clapperboard marked the date, clicked before the camera, and then the two-on-one questioning began. The standard details first—name, age, date of birth, any previous acting experience.
Then Susie leaned forward and got to the real question:
"Isabella, I'd like to know—which role are you auditioning for?"
"Hermione Granger."
"Alright. Give me one reason you chose her."
"Because she's one of the main characters in Harry Potter. If I'm here, I might as well aim for the best."
"Oh~ that's more candid than we expected."
Susie and Jessie exchanged amused looks, then prompted: "Sweetheart, this is a formal audition. That doesn't mean you can't joke, but I think you have another reason, don't you?"
"Yeah~" Isabella smiled at the camera and nodded. "You guessed right."
"Besides being a lead, I like Hermione because of her background."
She paused. "Specifically, because she's Muggle-born."
That caught them off guard.
Since casting had started, they'd received more than forty thousand résumés and self-recommendations. Nearly everyone wrote about how much they loved the trio of main characters. But never once had someone said they liked Hermione because she was Muggle-born.
"Tell us why," Susie urged, now genuinely curious.
"Hermione is the only child of the Grangers, a pair of dentists in London. Before Hogwarts' invitation, she had no idea magic even existed. So when she decided to attend, her curiosity drove her to learn as much as possible about the wizarding world. The book says that even before her first year began, she'd already been studying and had mastered a few simple spells—ones she demonstrated on the train ride."
"Some people might find that scene annoying, see it as Hermione showing off. But isn't that also part of why people love her? She is brilliant. Why shouldn't she show it? And it's not as though her brilliance is something she was simply born with. It's what she learned while others were resting or playing."
At this point Isabella dropped the cuteness.
Her words came clearly, each one deliberate, spoken at a steady pace.
"In my view, all of Hermione's pride comes from her ability. She doesn't have Malfoy's pure-blood family name—she can't strut around saying 'My father will hear about this.' But neither does she let her Muggle background make her insecure. She relies entirely on her own effort. That fact—that she stands tall on her own—is what makes her truly compelling."
"Her intelligence and diligence are the keys to her success. Or to put it another way, what Aunt Rowling wanted to convey through Hermione's character might just be: 'Where there's a will, there's a way.'
"Coming from a powerful family might make success easier, yes—but not having that background doesn't mean you're doomed to fail. The only ones who fall behind are those who accept their circumstances, stand still, and eventually sink into the abyss."
Hiss—
Katherine's eyes went wide at her little sister's words. Susie and Jessie both sucked in a sharp breath.
This was not the sort of insight you heard every day—and certainly not something you'd expect from a ten-year-old child.
They exchanged a look, reading the same astonishment in each other's eyes.
Then Jessie, the new British casting director for Harry Potter, leaned forward with curiosity. "Is that your own thought?"
"Of course~"
"Our auditions allow children to prepare beforehand. But we don't like dishonesty," Jessie cautioned gently.
Isabella only smiled and shrugged.
"Director Jessie, you're right, you can prepare in advance—but no one can predict every thought the examiner has, can they? So, ask me something else. I'm sure I can show you I'm sincere."
Yesterday was the first time Isabella had even told her sister she wanted to act. With their mother still in the dark about today's little adventure, how could anyone else possibly have written her answers for her? Of course, she admitted to herself she had cheated a little.
Her views on Hermione came entirely from her memories of her previous life.
Back then, she'd always liked Miss Beaver—not only because Hermione came from an ordinary background yet still reached the peak of her world, like something out of a wish-fulfillment novel, but also because her personality was so vivid, so real.
Rowling had written Hermione as bossy and overbearing when she first appeared. Many saw that as arrogance, but as the story went on, it became clear that was just a surface impression.
Born a Muggle, Hermione didn't truly belong in the magical world. Standing alongside those with generations of family heritage, she was bound to feel out of place. But she never accepted that. She proved with her own two hands that she was just as good—though, being young and inexperienced, her way of proving it wasn't always the gentlest.
That contradiction, that complexity—that was what gave her life.
In Isabella's eyes, Hermione's resilience could be summed up with a line from a Mayday song:"You are not truly happy; your smile is just the armor you wear."
Because Rowling had written her so vividly alive, Isabella admired her deeply.
After a pause, Susie asked another question: "Then what do you think of Harry Potter?"
"Uh… Saint Potter?"
Isabella met her eyes. "I think he'll be the greatest Gryffindor. No contest."
In the books, Malfoy had once mocked Harry by calling him a saint.
Isabella thought the boy was right.
And she didn't mean it as an insult.
Many characters in Harry Potter were twisted by the tragedies of their families. But Harry was different. Despite all the neglect and abuse in his childhood, he never went astray. Remember, even Dumbledore once dreamed of ruling the Muggle world when he was seventeen. But Harry? He walked willingly to his death. What kind of unbelievable character is that?
And later, in The Deathly Hallows, when readers wondered why Dumbledore hadn't just told Harry the whole truth, Dumbledore explained he feared Harry might not be able to resist temptation—he had to discover it himself.
Yet in the end?
The so-called greatest wizard of the age couldn't resist the Resurrection Stone when he saw it—he longed too much for his dead sister.
But Harry, after uniting the Deathly Hallows, willingly threw them away.
If that doesn't make him a saint, who could be?
Since The Deathly Hallows hadn't been published yet, Isabella could only talk about Harry based on the books that were out.
When she finished, silence fell over the room. After a pause, the audition continued. Susie handed Isabella a page from the novel to read aloud, then asked her to perform a range of expressions directly to the DV camera.
From clapperboard to closing call, the whole process took about an hour.
After leaving Isabella's contact information, Susie told them they were free to go.
The simple ending left Katherine a little unsettled. She had noticed how excited the two casting directors had been at first—but as time went on, they'd spoken less and less.
So…
Did that mean they liked her sister, or not?
Confused, she walked out with Isabella. While waiting for the shuttle, suddenly a car horn sounded nearby.
They turned to see Jessie, the casting director, sitting behind the wheel. When she caught their eyes, she tilted her head and called out:
"Get in—I'll drive you home."
"Uh?" Katherine blinked.
Jessie smiled. "Katherine Haywood, right? You're definitely not eighteen yet. Don't bother denying it. And don't underestimate a casting director's eyes."
"We didn't spell it out earlier because it was part of the process. But now… well…" Jessie hesitated, then lifted her brows. "If anything happened to you girls on your way home, Susie would kill me."
"Really???"
Katherine's face lit up in pure joy.
"Oh, Isa, did you hear that? You passed!"
She'd caught Jessie's implication right away.
Isabella only smiled and nodded. She wasn't surprised.
If a grown woman couldn't outdo a child in reading comprehension, she might as well admit defeat.
But today's win was just a small one, wasn't it?
The real test would come later—the project's true decision-makers hadn't even appeared yet.
So…
"Calm down, sis. This was only the preliminary round."
Glancing at Katherine, Isabella turned to include Jessie in the moment. "Right, Director Jessie?"
"By the book, yes."
"See? There's still a long way to go. So let's head home."
As Isabella climbed into the car, carrying her quiet sense of satisfaction, Susie was upstairs on the third floor, camera in hand. She had planned to snap a few wide shots outside the window. Instead, she caught sight of the girl's prematurely old-souled expression.
"Oh my, what a cute face."
"Is that the look of someone who thinks she's already won?"
"Tsk, tsk, tsk… interesting."