Just like before, when Harry Potter got so busy filming that there was barely time to breathe, Isabella also received the news that The Prisoner of Azkaban had made history while still shooting on the HP set.
That moment, she was so thrilled and happy she literally jumped for joy—like a lunatic.
Uh… well… honestly, everyone was like that around that time.
When Azkaban's box office surged like a wild boar charging through the woods, the entire HP crew, from top to bottom, was waiting for history to be rewritten.
For the whole month of June, everyone on set was checking box office stats eight times a day.
Even Chris Columbus wasn't immune to the obsession.
So when the news broke that Azkaban had officially crossed one billion dollars, the whole place erupted in cheers and screams.
Everyone was losing their minds.
To put it bluntly, even a dog seeing them that day would've taken the long way around, afraid of getting bitten by the sheer energy.
Since everyone had been watching the box office so closely, producer David Heyman had already thrown a huge celebration dinner that very night. The celebration team he hired? Royal-approved, literally.
Before that, when the North American box office hit 200 million in its first week, Barry Meyer had handed out red envelopes on behalf of Warner.
Every member of the crew's support staff got ten thousand pounds.
Those with any managerial responsibility got more.
Don't scoff—it adds up.
There were over 800 people working at Warner Bros. Leavesden.
Just those red envelopes alone cost Warner almost a hundred million dollars.
Basically, they gave away the equivalent of an HP movie's production budget in bonuses.
Barry Meyer knew how to celebrate properly.
So technically, Robert Iger showing up now was just a little late to the party.
Not that anyone cared.
First, everyone was still riding high.
Second, Iger wasn't the CEO of Warner Bros., so arriving later made sense.
And third—well, when someone travels all this way to congratulate you, would you really say, "Sorry, we already celebrated"? That would just be stupid.
Right?
So—music! Dancing!
After who-knows-how-many toasts, the three-hour-long party finally wrapped up.
Everyone, full and happy, headed off for the night, while the girl walked up to Iger, smiling brightly.
"Thanks," she said first. "If I'm not mistaken, you came especially to celebrate with me?"
"Mhm."
Iger tilted his head, shrugged, and feigned confusion. "A princess's movie breaking a billion dollars is a big deal. As her loyal subject, shouldn't I celebrate?"
"So why did the princess have to guess?"
That ridiculous line made the girl giggle, eyes half-mooned.
Then Iger exaggeratedly grabbed an invisible mic and pretended to be a reporter.
"Well then, Miss Haywood, since you've seen through my ruse, I'll admit it—I'm actually here on behalf of ABC to find news! Tell us, Miss Haywood, how do you feel about Azkaban passing a billion at the box office? Are you happy?"
"Oh—of course—" she nodded emphatically.
"Are you excited?"
"Yeah~"
"How excited?"
"As tall as ten stories!"
She stretched her arms high above her head to demonstrate.
The answer made Iger pause.
"Uh… forgive me, but why only ten stories high?"
"Azkaban is only the second movie in history to break a billion dollars! Don't you think ten stories is a little low for that?"
"Oh, that's because I thought I had six billion fans," Isabella said solemnly. "I thought everyone in the world was my fan, so Azkaban should've made sixty or even a hundred billion. Then my excitement could've reached all the way from Earth to the Moon. But it didn't."
"…," Iger choked.
His Adam's apple bobbed—he clearly had words stuck in his throat that he couldn't spit out or swallow.
After a moment, he managed, "Isabella, delusion is a disease, you know. Should I call a doctor for you?"
"HAHAHAHAHA—" Isabella burst out laughing, waving her hand to say no.
Her joy was so contagious that even Iger's composure cracked.
He smiled, glanced over at Vivian and Catherine nearby, exchanging knowing nods.
Then he said, "Got time to talk?"
"If you want to talk about The Voice Season 2, I guess I can."
"Why can't we talk about Enchanted?"
"Oh, because I don't need it anymore."
"Because you've got Transformers now?"
"Tsk—nothing stays secret in this industry, huh."
She tilted her head toward her mother. "I'll grab my mom, wait here a sec?"
Iger nodded. Isabella turned away.
When she came back, only Vivian was with her.
"My sister says she's tired and wants to rest, so… let's find somewhere nearby to talk, yeah? The sooner we finish, the sooner I can head back before she yells at me again."
"What do you think about the Quidditch World Cup set?"
"Perfect," Iger said with a smile, glancing up at the moon. "We can enjoy the view."
After all, Robert Iger was Disney's COO. Even if he and Barry Meyer were allies, he wouldn't fly to a rival studio just to toast their success.
Everyone knew he was really there for Isabella.
No one mentioned it—there was no need.
As for why?
The Quidditch World Cup location was in Ivinghoe, quite close to Leavesden. A short drive later, they arrived.
After greeting the staff still on site, they walked into the moonlit set, where the silvery glow bathed medieval-style buildings, giving the place a faintly magical feel.
They found a spot to sit. Iger's bodyguards stayed nearby—close enough to see them, far enough not to overhear.
Then Iger started.
"Alright, Isabella. Since you brought up The Voice, let's start there."
"The Season 2 prep's going well. Plenty of new talent, and it'll definitely continue the first season's success. But it still has one flaw—you didn't write the promo song."
He spread his hands dramatically.
Isabella laughed. "Oh, Bob, you can't blame me for that. I told you all before—if I didn't get inspired, the promo was on you."
Writing one wouldn't have been hard—she was a "copy queen" in music, after all.
But this time she didn't copy.
First, she had no time. She was too busy.
Second, the first season's promo Party in the U.S.A. was too iconic.
When your debut single charts at number one, it's hard to stomach mediocrity afterward.
In plain terms, she had performance anxiety. Everything she made, she wanted it to be number one.
Otherwise… what's the point?
So when Season 2's promo didn't have a strong hook, she just… didn't bother.
Iger didn't mind—it wasn't that big of a deal to him.
He shrugged it off and moved on.
Next, he talked about The Voice theme park game.
The planning was underway, expected to open before 2006.
The park would be in Florida—because, well, Florida's full of weirdos.
And only in a place that strange could a game generate miracles fast enough.
Okay, no nonsense—really, it was because Disney World Florida was huge and could provide the needed space.
He chuckled.
After The Voice, he brought up Enchanted again.
He said if Isabella still wanted the project, he could greenlight, fund, and produce it for her immediately on Disney's behalf.
But—
"Bob, like I said, I've already found something better."
"Oh, fair enough," Iger said, only looking disappointed for a second. Then: "So shall we get to the main topic?"
"Sure." Isabella nodded.
"Okay, Isabella, since you already know I came for you, I think you can guess why, right?"
"Beaver?"
"Yeah~"
"So you're really serious about developing her?"
"Don't you want to?"
Iger grinned. "If you don't, well…" he drawled, glancing at Vivian, "as I recall, Mrs. Haywood, that Iron Man glove you wore at Azkaban's premiere wasn't actually your idea, was it?"
"Oh—that was Barry's! Barry Meyer's!"
Before her mother could even speak, Isa herself had already thrown someone under the bus.
Iger rolled his eyes and said dryly, "I have Barry's number, you know."
"HAHAHAHAHA—" Isabella laughed loud enough to mask her nonexistent embarrassment. She wasn't embarrassed at all, actually.
Vivian lightly swatted her and said, "Bob, just get to the point. You know how kids are when they hit their teens—they get playful. Isabella's no exception."
"Okay, then I'll be direct." Iger nodded. "I want to develop Little Beaver."
"Or, to put it another way—I want to bring her into Disney."
His bluntness didn't surprise either of them.
Everyone knew about Iger's ambition.
And since he'd decided to speak plainly, Isabella did too.
"Alright then. As you can see, Bob—I'm interested in developing Little Beaver too."
At that, Iger's face lit up with a smile.
But…
"Before we talk about Little Beaver, Bob, I want to discuss something else first."
"Go ahead. There's no one else here—whatever you want to talk about, we can talk."
"Okay. Can you tell me what Fox's main pillar industries are?"
That question made Iger narrow his eyes.
He looked at Isabella for a moment, then glanced toward Vivian.
When he saw that her mother didn't seem surprised, he gave a faint smirk. "You really hate them, don't you?"
"When someone keeps trying to make sure you die, you don't exactly end up liking them," Isabella said with a shrug.
"Oh, you're absolutely right." Iger chuckled.
Once the words fell, silence swept over the place.
No one spoke again.
Only the insects in the night filled the air with their chirping.
Iger seemed lost in thought. Isabella and Vivian didn't press him. After a long pause—one that felt like he was weighing the price of climbing to the top—he finally spoke.
"Fox is already teetering. Without American Idol and X-Men, they're losing their footing.
"But even so, they won't go bankrupt anytime soon."
"Emmm… Let's break it down. First, the broadcasting company."
"Fox Broadcasting has three divisions: news, sports, and entertainment."
"News refers to their news channel, like CNN. That business mainly exists to boost ratings, not profits. Honestly, most TV networks can't make real money from news."
"Sports refers to Fox Sports—they hold the broadcast rights for major leagues like the NFL and MLB. Sports brings in roughly 20% of the group's revenue since sports advertising is insanely profitable."
"But however profitable sports may be, it still doesn't compare to entertainment."
"The entertainment division splits into two segments: variety and drama."
"In variety, American Idol alone used to bring in over 80% of that division's revenue."
"In drama, 24 made them a lot of money."
"Then there's the film side."
"They've got two branches too: live-action and animation."
"For live-action—losing X-Men means losing their main franchise revenue. And Fox also made money off the X-Men toys."
"As for animation…"
"Ice Age."
"So if someone wanted to push them into the abyss…"
"The easiest and most effective method would be to target their main revenue sources directly."
Iger's words were long, but not tiring—his logic was razor-sharp.
As he spoke, a smile crept across Isabella's face.
"Oh, Bob, you really can't go three sentences without bringing up my Little Beaver."
Iger spread his hands helplessly. Well, that was the whole reason he came.
Isabella went on, "So the only drama that brings in revenue for their broadcast side is 24?"
"How could that be?" Iger shook his head. "No network survives on just one show's ad revenue."
"What else then?" Isabella asked.
"Uh… there's The Bernie Mac Show, a sitcom with over ten million viewers on average," Iger listed matter-of-factly.
"Malcolm in the Middle, a family comedy that peaked with over fifteen million viewers."
"The O.C., a teen drama from last year, averages around ten million."
"And this year they're planning another show—House, M.D. It'll probably be a hit. We actually tried to sign it, but the producer has strong ties with Fox, so that fell through."
Isabella nodded repeatedly.
"Okay, Iger, so do you think The Voice could be developed into a drama?"
"?" The question made his brows knit slightly.
He didn't think Isabella was delusional.
Big IPs can grow roots across all kinds of media.
If they can't, it just means one thing: your IP isn't big enough.
Plain and simple.
But… maybe Iger had been too focused on Little Beaver to consider other directions?
For a moment, he couldn't quite imagine how The Voice could work as a TV drama.
"So… tell me your idea," he said, now serious.
"Okay." Isabella clapped her hands, smiling. "I've got two concepts. Let's start with A."
"Concept A is simple—and it fits Disney's tone perfectly. It's about a 14-year-old girl who appears to be an ordinary middle schooler but is secretly a famous pop star."
Isabella admitted she was a vengeful person.
So, when she got attacked, her first instinct was revenge.
She hadn't acted last year only because the enemy's lineup was ridiculous—pure capital, and only one piece of "new money." How could she fight that?
This year, though…
Since Fox was weakened, she wasn't going to let them off easy.
She refused to just keep taking hits.
So, in her spare time on set, she'd already dissected Fox's structure.
Her personal analysis largely matched Iger's—except she hadn't paid attention to Fox Sports, but that didn't matter. Sports and news weren't things individuals could meddle with.
Those were corporate battlefield matters.
As for Fox's other areas…
She'd devised two series ideas to compete directly with their shows.
One called Hannah Montana, and another Nashville.
The former—Miley Cyrus's breakout show, of course.
The latter—a classic drama about rivalry between a fading diva and a rising star.
Isabella thought of them precisely because both revolved around music.
That common thread gave them potential as The Voice spinoffs.
And anything carrying The Voice IP had a much higher chance of success.
So using them to squeeze Fox's drama ratings sounded like a fine move.
Since she didn't have Fox's actual income reports, her plans were initially just speculation.
Because TV dramas differ by target audience—teen shows don't draw political drama viewers, and people who love light comedies won't watch bitter power struggles.
But once Iger mentioned that Fox had teen dramas like The O.C. and domestic comedies like Malcolm in the Middle, Isabella realized her plan could turn real.
And with that—
"Oh, Mrs. Haywood—your daughter might just be born for this business," Iger laughed after hearing her idea.
Vivian smiled politely and thanked him.
Then Iger turned to the girl again. "I think your ideas are fantastic. We can definitely try developing them. If we can knock out Fox's hit dramas, their revenue will drop again."
"And if you want to turn your ideas into series, Disney can give you the time slot."
"However… do you have a production team?"
"Nope." Isabella shook her head without shame.
"Then how are you going to make a show?" Iger twitched. "TV drama production requires a full team since it's weekly."
"Doesn't Disney have teams?" she asked innocently.
That line left Iger speechless.
After a long pause, he said with some difficulty, "So what you mean is—you just provide the idea, Disney's drama division handles production, and then we buy the show… from ourselves?"
"Yeah~" she nodded cheerfully.
"Wow—what a brilliant business model," Iger muttered, half laughing, half crying.
It sounded absurd—but honestly, it was doable.
Just like The Voice—Isabella provided the spark, they handled the rest.
"Okay, if you have a full plan, we can talk," Iger said. "Besides that, what else?"
"Can we talk animation now?"
"Sure," Isabella said brightly. "But before animation, I want to talk about The Devil Wears Prada."
"Even though Prada is a Warner project, that's not important. You're literally on Warner's turf right now celebrating a Warner hit, aren't you? Anyway, in my head, Prada looks like this…"
She laid out her concept for Prada.
When Iger heard that the protagonist would leave the fashion world for an animation studio by the end, he burst out laughing.
"So you already planned to make an animated film afterward? And you want it to release right after Prada?"
"Yeah~ you think that's doable?"
"Uh… first tell me, when will Goblet of Fire wrap filming?"
"Goblet of Fire is split into two parts—you know that, right?"
"Of course, Barry told me."
"Okay. The first part will finish before next March. The second won't wrap until around October."
"And then you're starting Prada right away? No break?"
"Well, luck means opportunity hitting hard work at the right time, doesn't it?"
"Oh~ that's a good line."
"So Prada starts filming in the fall or winter next year. If all goes well, it could release in 2006."
"Hmm… in that case, the timing works perfectly…"
Iger thought for a bit. "Nowadays, animated films can be made fast since it's all digital. Take Monsters, Inc.—it was approved in 1996, but real production started in 1999, and it hit theaters in October 2001."
"As long as the idea and character designs are solid, we can finish an animated film in two years."
"Then we could try to go head-to-head with Ice Age—if the timing lines up."
"Even if it doesn't, that's fine. We can still snipe another Fox movie."
"And since Little Beaver's design is already perfect…"
"Let's talk inspiration?"
Iger winked at her, obviously thrilled to finally get to that part.
But—
"Bob, I can talk inspiration. But before that, I need to confirm something."
"Oh, you have so many conditions… fine, go ahead."
"Does Disney take outsourcing projects? Like with the series—if our partnership works like Disney and Pixar's, where rights are split fifty-fifty, then I'd rather just buy my own animation studio."
"…"
Iger narrowed his eyes.
Isabella smiled.