Regulus Black's performance in the film was far less cold than usual—he came across as warm and courteous, with a tender undertone to his somber demeanor.
In the final scene, Dr. Allen, played by Regulus Black, invites Mr. Cushing to a ball. When the two finally get into the car, cheerful laughter fills the vehicle.
"Cut! That's a wrap! Filming is complete."
Director Guillermo del Toro raised his megaphone and loudly announced the end of filming. Over the past three months, everyone had witnessed the acting skills of the cast and the director's perfectionism.
"Tonight, we're having roast lamb. I'm sure everyone's had enough beef lately, so I asked Mrs. Cook to prepare only lamb dishes."
Regulus Black shook the rainwater off his body. It had to be said, the water from the fire hose carried a distinct rusty smell.
"Great! I've actually stopped eating beef for the past year."
"Quite the opposite for me—I like beef even more now. The only question is, can my wife replicate that flavor?"
"Let's not count on your wife's cooking. Maybe your mother could match Mrs. Cook's skills."
The crew joked and packed up their equipment. The Crimson Manor set, now completed, would soon be torn down and rebuilt.
Quirinus Quirrell suddenly appeared on set. As the steward of Crimson Manor, he had visited frequently since shooting began. The crew was already quite familiar with the Indian Buddhist.
"Mr. Black! Your project plan."
Quirrell handed Regulus Black a magically enchanted document.
To a Muggle, the file would display only architectural blueprints for Crimson Manor. But in Regulus Black's hands, it transformed into a three-dimensional projection. The new Crimson Manor would be five times larger than the original. While the exterior looked the same, the interior was vastly expanded. And that was only the Muggle version—within the wizarding world, the magical construction allowed for much more, possibly resembling Hogwarts Castle, with countless hidden rooms and secret passageways.
"Mr. Black! It's been a pleasure working with you. If there's ever another chance, I hope we can collaborate again."
Robert Downey Jr., now changed into his own clothes, came over to say goodbye. He was about to start work on a film about Charlie Chaplin. If history repeated itself, that role would gain him much recognition and several awards.
"I'd certainly like to work with you again. I believe by then, your acting will be even more outstanding."
Regulus Black gave Robert Downey Jr. a hug and watched as he got into the car that had come to pick him up.
The rest of the crew had mostly departed. The special effects team had left earlier—Regulus Black's final scenes didn't require their involvement. They had already returned to their own studio to begin adding visual effects to certain segments.
"Looks like I missed saying goodbye to the special effects team."
Regulus Black spoke to himself, to which Director Guillermo del Toro cheerfully responded:
"They've been involved in filming since the very beginning. Special effects work has been ongoing this whole time. You'll definitely get another chance to see them—after all, you're the investor. You'll need to approve the final version of the film. Just because you don't see them now doesn't mean you won't see them again."
"Mr. Black, all the registered props and items have been packed and sealed. I have to say, there's a lot of good stuff in those crates."
David Robinson, sweating from the work, pointed to a row of thirteen shipping containers in the distance. At Regulus Black's request, every potentially useful item had been boxed up and stored. When scattered throughout Crimson Manor, these miscellaneous items didn't seem like much, but once packed together, the sheer volume was overwhelming.
At first, Regulus Black thought two large containers would be enough. But David Robinson, with a keen eye, persuaded him to order thirteen. As it turned out, even those thirteen containers were just barely sufficient.
Had David Robinson not blurted out the oddly specific number "thirteen," Regulus Black might not have agreed. Ordering them later would've been another hassle—and split orders cost significantly more than a bulk purchase.
However, these containers were not a waste at all for Regulus Black—he had plans to repurpose them into housing in the future.
Once the new Crimson Manor was completed and the furniture had been removed from the containers, it would be time to start constructing the container homes.
"Thank you for your hard work, Mr. Robinson. I'll have my lawyer settle the final payment with you shortly."
Regulus Black wasn't the type to exploit filming as an excuse to make others do his bidding. He paid fairly—work done, money paid; payment matched the effort, and the work matched the reward. It was all based on mutual agreement.
Although David Robinson was sweating from head to toe, he was still enjoying himself. After all, Regulus Black was a straightforward employer—especially when it came to compensation. There were never any delays in payment.
Waving goodbye to the props team members, he watched them leave in several trucks.
"I'll stay in touch with your personal lawyer about the next steps. The final version will still require your approval. I'm grateful you've entrusted me with the editing rights. Don't worry—the results will satisfy you. After all, we've discussed so much: composition, style, color…"
Director Guillermo del Toro began rambling endlessly, completely ignoring the two female leads who were glaring at him.
Clearly, the two women had made up their minds; otherwise, they wouldn't have stayed until the end. And the director was obviously aware of this—he was just rambling on to tease them one last time.
"Tell me, Guillermo, did you stick around just for them?"
Regulus Black said this deliberately, as if suggesting the director had taken a liking to one of the two female leads and was reluctant to leave because of it.
At that, both women adopted a curious, amused expression as they waited to hear the director's response.
"Ah! No, don't misunderstand me. I really should be going now. I just wanted to say, they're both wonderful women. No matter what decision you make, one of them will end up hurt. So be careful!"
With that, Guillermo del Toro gave Regulus Black a firm slap on the back with his chubby hand and hurried off as if fleeing.
"That annoying guy finally left. Always knows how to stir things up,"
muttered Charlize Theron, still displaying a touch of childishness as she watched the director's car drive away in distaste.
"Let's not talk about the director anymore—he's always been a jokester. Let's talk about us instead. So, Mr. Black, how do you plan to choose? Me? Or Charlize?"
Jennifer Connelly stood nearby, arms crossed, glancing sideways at Regulus Black.
Her stance clearly demanded that he pick one of them. But a closer look would reveal that it wasn't just Charlize Theron who had slipped the ring used in the storyline onto her left ring finger—Jennifer Connelly had also picked a ring from the props box and put it on her own left ring finger.
"I admit, as a Brit, I'm quite the anomaly—more romantic than the French. But I never make the choice. I leave the decision to the women. My role is only to attract them with my charm."
Regulus Black smiled for once, and reached out to embrace both women.
"Since you both chose me, then surely that means you don't reject each other, right? Like that chubby guy said—no matter whom I choose, the other would be hurt. And that's just not something someone like me would ever do."
"So, you've never thought about marriage, have you?"
Jennifer Connelly raised her left hand. The ring she wore was different in style from Charlize's, but no less valuable. Wearing it on the left ring finger symbolized marriage. Yet it was clear that this man had no intention of marrying.
"Marriage is essentially making a choice. For someone as emotionally excessive as I am, once I marry, I'd devote myself fully to the family. And that would only end up hurting even more women. So yes, I've chosen not to marry—but I do like children. As many as you want. Boys or girls, it doesn't matter."
In response, the two women pounded his chest with their fists in mock frustration.
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