WARP - the MATRIX
Iggy McSnurd
CoyotesChild at charter.net
Sat Jan 24 21:59:00 UTC 2004
Iggy here:
Ok, here's a fun one for you all. I had a blast with this one. It's
more imagining the characters in the situations than actually putting it
into the Wizarding World. You will notice two things. I gave something
to the Harry/Hermione shippers out there, and also for the "Lupin is the
hidden Judas" theorists out there. (See if you can figure them out.
You will need to know both the HP books, and the Matrix movies.)
As always, I hope you enjoy this one. (And I hope I didn't miss any
names or words in this one... *sheepish grin*)
Iggy McSnurd
THE MATRIX
by
Larry and Andy Wachowski
(WARPed by Iggy McSnurd)
INT. INTERROGATION ROOM
CLOSE ON a camera monitor; wide angle view of a white room
where Harry is sitting at a table alone.
We MOVE INTO the monitor, entering the room as if the
monitor was a window.
At the same moment, the door opens and the agents enter.
Cornelius Fudge sits down across from Harry. A thick manila
envelope slaps down on the table between them.
Harry glances at the name on the file: "Potter, Harry"
CORNELIUS FUDGE
As you can see, we've had our eye on
you for some time now, Mr. Potter.
He opens the file. Paper rattle marks the silence as he
flips several pages. Harry cannot tell if he is looking at
the file or at him.
CORNELIUS FUDGE
It seems that you have been living
two lives. In one life, you are
Harry Potter, program writer
for a respectable software company.
You have a social security number,
you pay your taxes and you help your
landlady carry out her garbage.
The pages continue to turn.
CORNELIUS FUDGE
The other life is lived in computers
where you go by the hacker alias
Seeker, and are guilty of virtually
every computer crime we have a law
for.
Harry feels himself sinking into a pit of manure.
CORNELIUS FUDGE
One of these lives has a future.
One of them does not.
He closes the file.
CORNELIUS FUDGE
I'm going to be as forthcoming as I
can be, Mr. Potter. You are here
because we need your help.
He removes his sunglasses, his eyes are unnatural ice-
blue.
CORNELIUS FUDGE
We know that you have been contacted
by a certain individual. A man who
calls himself Dumbledore. Whatever
you think you know about this man is
irrelevant to the fact that he is
wanted for acts of terrorism in more
countries than any other man in the
world. He is considered by many
authorities to be the most dangerous
man alive.
He leans closer.
CORNELIUS FUDGE
My colleagues believe that I am
wasting my time with you but I
believe you want to do the right
thing. It is obvious that you are
an intelligent man, Mr. Potter,
and that you are interested in the
future. That is why I believe you
are ready to put your past mistakes
behind you and get on with your
life.
Harry stares to match his stare.
CORNELIUS FUDGE
We are willing to wipe the slate
clean, to give you a fresh start and
all we are asking in return is your
cooperation in bringing a known
terrorist to justice.
Harry nods to himself.
HARRY
Yeah. Wow. That sounds like a real
good deal. But I think I have a
better one. How about I give you
the finger --
He does.
HARRY
And you can cram that file up your
Ministry sphincter.
Cornelius Fudge puts his glasses back on.
CORNELIUS FUDGE
You disappoint me, Mr. Potter.
HARRY
You can't scare me with Gestapo
crap. I know my rights. I want my
phone call!
Cornelius Fudge smiles.
CORNELIUS FUDGE
And tell me, Mr. Potter, what good
is a phone call if you are unable to
speak?
The question unnerves Harry and strangely he begins to feel
the muscles in his jaw tighten.
The standing agents snicker, watching Harry's confusion grow
into panic.
Harry feels his lips grow soft and sticky as they slowly
seal shut, melding into each other until all traces of his
mouth are gone.
Wild with fear, he lunges for the door but the agents
restrain him, holding him in the chair.
CORNELIUS FUDGE
You are going to help us, Mr.
Potter, whether you want to or
not.
Fudge nods and the other two rip open his shirt.
>From a case taken out of his suit coat, Fudge removes a
long, fiber-optic wire tap.
Harry struggles helplessly as Fudge dangles the wire over
his exposed abdomen. Horrified, he watches as the
electronic device animates, becoming an organic creature
that resembles a hybrid of an insect and a fluke worm.
Thin, whisker-like tendrils reach out and probe into Harry's
navel. He bucks wildly as Fudge drops the creature which
looks for a moment like an uncut umbilical cord --
-- before it begins to borrow, its tall thrashing as it
worms its way inside.
INT. HARRY'S APARTMENT
Screaming, Harry bolts upright in bed.
He realizes that he is home. Was it a dream? His mouth
is normal. His stomach looks fine. He starts to take a
deep, everything-is-okay breath when --
The PHONE RINGS.
It almost stops his heart. It continues RINGING, building
pressure in the room, forcing him up out of bed, sucking
him in with an almost gravitational force.
He answers it, saying nothing.
DUMBLEDORE (V.O.)
This line is tapped so I must be
brief.
HARRY
The agents --
DUMBLEDORE (V.O.)
They got to you first, but they've
underestimated how important you
are. If they knew what I know, you
would probably be dead.
HARRY
What do you know?
DUMBLEDORE (V.O.)
You're the One, Harry. You see, you
may have spent the last few years
looking for me, but I've spent most
of my life looking for you.
Harry feels sick.
DUMBLEDORE (V.O.)
Do you still want to meet?
HARRY
... Yes.
DUMBLEDORE (V.O.)
Go the Adams Street bridge.
CLICK. He closes his eyes, unsure of what he has done.
EXT. CITY STREET - NIGHT
It is just beyond the middle of the night; that time when
it seems there are no rules and everything feels unsafe.
Harry's boots scrape against the concrete. Every pair of
eyes he passes seems to follow him.
As he reaches the bridge, headlights creep in behind him.
He turns just as the car slides quickly to a stop beside
him. The back door opens.
HERMIONE
Get in.
INT. CAR
A large black man named KINGSLEY is driving. Beside him is a
beautiful androgyne called TONKS, aiming a large gun at
Harry.
HARRY
What the hell is this?!
HERMIONE
It's necessary, Harry. For our
protection.
HARRY
From what?
HERMIONE
From you.
She lifts a strange steel and glass device that looks like
a cross between a rib separator, speculum and air
compressor.
TONKS
Take off your shirt.
He looks at the strange device and the gun still trained
on him.
HARRY
What? Why?
TONKS
Stop the car.
Kingsley does.
TONKS
Listen to me, coppertop! We don't
have time for 'twenty questions.'
Right now there is only one rule.
Our way or the highway.
HARRY
Fine.
HERMIONE
No, we can't let him go --
Harry opens the door.
HERMIONE
Harry, please, you have to trust me.
HARRY
Why?
HERMIONE
Because you've been down there, Harry.
You already know that road. You
know exactly where it ends.
Harry stares out into the dark street beyond the open door.
HERMIONE
And I know that's not where you want
to be.
HARRY
... damn.
He closes the door.
EXT. LOWER WACKER
A moment later the green lights of Lower Wacker curve over
the car's tinted windshield as it rushes through the
underworld.
INT. CAR
Harry grudgingly strips off his T-shirt.
HERMIONE
Lie back.
Hermione sets the device over Harry's stomach its three
corners resting on the points of his pelvis and sternum.
She then guides a mounted cylindrical probe into his navel
and squeezes a hand pump a few times to form a tight seal.
HARRY
What is this thing?
HERMIONE
We think you're bugged. Try to
relax.
She turns a dial and the machine bears down on Harry's
midsection, the cylinder sucking hard at his stomach.
Harry screams, squinting in pain as Hermione watches the
needle on a pressure gauge climb steadily.
HERMIONE
Come on, come on...
The machine quivers as the pressure builds higher and
higher until something finally rockets wetly out of Harry's
stomach through the machine's coils.
HERMIONE
Got it.
Hermione shuts off the compressor, Harry cradling his
stomach.
HARRY
Got what? My spleen?
Hermione lifts a glass cage at the end of the tubing.
Inside the small fluke-like bug flips and squirms, its
tendrils flapping against the clear walls.
She unrolls the window and dumps it out.
EXT. CAR
It hits the pavement with a metallic tink, reverted back
into a common wire tap, as the car disappears down the
street.
EXT. HOTEL LAFAYETTE
The car stops in a deserted alley behind a forgotten
hotel.
INT. LAFAYETTE
It is a place of putrefying elegance, a rotting host of
urban maggotry.
Hermione leads Harry from the stairwell down the hall of the
thirteenth floor. They stop outside room 1313.
HERMIONE
This is it.
Harry can hear his own heart pounding.
HERMIONE
Let me give one piece of advice. Be
honest. He knows more than you can
possibly imagine.
INT. ROOM 1313
Across the room, a DARK FIGURE stares out the tall windows
veiled with decaying lace. He turns and his smile lights
up the room
DUMBLEDORE
At last.
He wears a long black coat and his eyes are invisible
behind circular mirrored glasses.
He strides to Harry and they shake hands.
DUMBLEDORE
Welcome, Harry. As you no doubt have
guessed, I am Dumbledore.
HARRY
It's an honor.
DUMBLEDORE
Please. Come. Sit.
He nods to Hermione.
DUMBLEDORE
Thank you, Hermione.
She bows her head sharply and exits through a door to an
adjacent room.
They sit across from one another in cracked, burgundy-
leather chairs.
DUMBLEDORE
I imagine, right now, you must be
feeling a bit like Alice, tumbling
down the rabbit hole?
HARRY
You could say that.
DUMBLEDORE
I can see it in your eyes. You have
the look of a man who accepts what
he sees because he is expecting to
wake up.
A smile, razor-thin, curls the corner of his lips.
DUMBLEDORE
Ironically, this is not far from the
truth. But I'm getting ahead of
myself. Can you tell me, Harry, why
are you here?
HARRY
You're Dumbledore, you're a legend.
Most hackers would die to meet you.
DUMBLEDORE
Yes. Thank you. But I think we
both know there's more to it than
that. Do you believe in fate, Harry?
HARRY
No.
DUMBLEDORE
Why not?
HARRY
Because I don't like the idea that
I'm not in control of my life.
DUMBLEDORE
I know exactly what you mean.
Again, that smile that could cut glass.
DUMBLEDORE
Let me tell you why you are here.
You have come because you know
something. What you know you can't
explain but you feel it. You've
felt it your whole life, felt that
something is wrong with the world.
You don't know what, but it's there
like a splinter in your mind,
driving you mad. It is this feeling
that brought you to me. Do you know
what I'm talking about?
HARRY
The Matrix?
DUMBLEDORE
Do you want to know what it is?
Harry swallows hard and nods.
DUMBLEDORE
The Matrix is everywhere, it's all
around us, here even in this room.
You can see it out your window or on
your television. You feel it when
you go to work, or go to church or
pay your taxes. It is the world
that has been pulled over your eyes
to blind you from the truth.
HARRY
What truth?
DUMBLEDORE
That you are a slave, Harry. Like
everyone else, you were born into
bondage, kept inside a prison that
you cannot smell, taste, or touch.
A prison for your mind.
The LEATHER CREAKS as he leans back.
DUMBLEDORE
Unfortunately, no one can be told
what the Matrix is. You have to see
it for yourself.
Dumbledore opens his hands. In the right is a red pill. In
the left, a blue pill.
DUMBLEDORE
This is your last chance. After
this, there is no going back. You
take the blue pill and the story
ends. You wake in your bed and you
believe whatever you want to
believe.
The pills in his open hands are reflected in the glasses.
DUMBLEDORE
You take the red pill and you stay
in Wonderland and I show you how
deep the rabbit hole goes.
Harry feels the smooth skin of the capsules, the moisture
growing in his palms.
DUMBLEDORE
Remember that all I am offering is
the truth. Nothing more.
Harry opens his mouth and swallows the red pill. The
Cheshire smile returns.
DUMBLEDORE
Follow me.
He leads Harry into the other room, which is cramped with
high-tech equipment, glowing ash-blue and electric green
from the racks of monitors.
Hermione, Kingsley and Lupin look up as they enter.
DUMBLEDORE
Kingsley, are we on-line?
KINGSLEY
Almost.
He and Hermione are working quickly, hard-wiring a complex
system of monitors, modules and drives.
DUMBLEDORE
Harry, time is always against us.
Will you take a seat there?
Harry sits in a chair in the center of the room and Hermione
begins gently fixing white electrode disks to his head,
arms, and the back of his neck. Near the chair is an old
oval dressing mirror that is cracked.
He whispers to Hermione:
HARRY
You did all this?
She nods, placing a set of headphones over his ears. They
are wired to an old hotel phone.
DUMBLEDORE
The pill you took is part of a trace
program. It's designed to disrupt
your input/output carrier signal so
we can pinpoint your location.
HARRY
What does that mean?
CYPHER
It means buckle up, Dorothy, 'cause
Kansas is going bye-bye.
Distantly, through the ear phones, he hears Kingsley pounding
on a keyboard. Sweat beads his face. His eyes blink and
twitch when he notices the mirror.
Wide-eyed, he stares as it begins to heal itself, a
webwork of cracks that slowly run together as though the
mirror were becoming liquid.
HARRY
Damn...
Lupin works with Kingsley, checking reams of phosphorescent
data. Hermione monitors Harry's electric vital signs.
Harry reaches out to touch the mirror and his fingers
disappear beneath the rippling surface.
Quickly, he tries to pull his fingers out but the mirror
stretches in long rubbery strands like mirrored-taffy
stuck to his fingertips.
DUMBLEDORE
Have you ever had a dream, Harry, that
you were so sure was real?
HARRY
This can't be...
DUMBLEDORE
Be what? Be real?
The strands thin like rubber cement as he pulls away,
until the fragile wisps of mirror thread break.
DUMBLEDORE
What if you were unable to wake from
that dream, Harry? How would you know
the difference between the dream
world and the real world?
With the TINKLING of GLASS, shimmering SNOWFLAKES of
electric-blinking mercury fall, HIT the GROUND, and fade.
Harry looks at his hand; fingers distended into mirrored
icicles that begin to melt rapidly, dripping, running like
wax down his fingers, spreading across his palm where he
sees his face reflected.
HARRY
Uh-oh...
HERMIONE
It's going into replication.
DUMBLEDORE
Kingsley?
KINGSLEY
Still nothing.
Dumbledore takes out a cellular phone and dials a number.
DUMBLEDORE
Moody, we're going to need the signal
soon.
The mirror gel seems to come to life, racing, crawling up
his arms like hundreds of insects.
HARRY
It's cold.
The mirror creeps up his neck as Harry begins to panic,
tipping his head as though he were sinking into the
mirror, trying to keep his mouth up.
HARRY
It's all over me --
Dumbledore is right next to him with the phone.
HERMIONE
I got a fibrillation!
DUMBLEDORE
Damn! Kingsley?
Streams of mercury run from Harry's nose.
KINGSLEY
Targeting... almost there.
An ALARM on Hermione's monitor ERUPTS.
HERMIONE
He's going into arrest!
KINGSLEY
Lock! I got him!
DUMBLEDORE
Now, Moody, now!
His eyes tear with mirror, rolling up and closing as a
high-pitched ELECTRIC SCREAM erupts in the headphones --
It is a piercing shriek like a computer calling to another
computer --
Harry's body arches in agony and we are PULLED like we were
pulled INTO the holes of the phone --
-- sucked INTO his scream and swallowed by DARKNESS.
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