Flourish sighed, took off his trench coat, draped it over his arm, and dropped heavily into the chair beside him.
“I set out at six this morning.
First, I went to the big bookshops in central London.”
“I didn’t expect every single one of them to be sold out.
Even the display copies in the windows had been bought by customers.”
“Then I went north and tried my luck in a few smaller towns.
Same result.”
“Every shop assistant gave me the same look the moment I asked about Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone—the look that says, ‘You’re too late.'”
Blotts frowned.
“And you couldn’t find a way to get even one copy?”
“What was I supposed to do?” Flourish spread his hands.
“I can’t exactly use magic to steal one—the Improper Use of Magic Office isn’t a joke.”
“Besides, even if I Apparated straight into a bookshop warehouse, I doubt those Muggle storerooms would have a single copy left.”
For a moment, Blotts had nothing to say.
He looked at Flourish’s exhausted face.
“So,” he said slowly, “right now, we can’t even get hold of a book from the Muggle world that’s about the wizarding world?”
“To be precise, most of the wizarding world probably can’t get hold of one at the moment,” Flourish corrected him.
“I ran into Millicent on my way back.
She told me she was planning to go into the Muggle world and buy a copy.”
“But I’d wager she won’t be able to buy one either.”
Blotts rubbed his temples.
Someone, possibly a wizard, had written a book about the wizarding world and published it in the Muggle world.
Information that should have been kept absolutely secret.
“Do you think…” Blotts lowered his voice.
“Could this Allen Wayne be a Muggle?”
“Impossible.” Flourish shook his head.
“If he were a Muggle, how could he know so much about the wizarding world?”
“But… he really does have nerve.”
“The Statute of Secrecy isn’t there for decoration.
Any wizard who reveals the existence of the wizarding world to Muggles would be sent to Azkaban.”
Blotts nodded in agreement.
“Do you think what’s written in the book is true?” Flourish asked.
“I’m not sure.
The descriptions are far too detailed.
It even describes what Dumbledore did eleven years ago…”
“But if Harry Potter really did grow up in the Muggle world the way the book says, then the person who made that decision eleven years ago was most likely Dumbledore.”
“Looking at it that way, if it’s confirmed that Harry Potter grew up in the Muggle world, then this book is probably telling the truth.”
The two men exchanged a glance and silently made up their minds.
No matter what, they had to find a way to buy a copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone: Part One.
…
The Leaky Cauldron.
The fire in the hearth crackled, and the air was filled with the scent of Butterbeer and roasted meat.
Several older wizards sat around a table in the corner, drinking Firewhisky while chatting about recent gossip.
“Have you heard?” an old wizard wearing a monocle said in a lowered voice.
“A strange book has appeared in the Muggle world recently.”
“What book?” asked the plump wizard beside him, curious.
“I think it’s called… Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone.”
“Harry Potter?” A third wizard frowned.
“The boy who defeated You-Know-Who?!”
“Yes, him.”
“In the Muggle world?”
“That’s right.”
“How do they know Harry Potter’s name?”
“No idea.” The old wizard with the monocle shrugged.
“But I hear the book describes the wizarding world in great detail.”
The plump wizard’s eyes widened.
“Merlin’s beard… what’s going on?”
“Who knows?” The old wizard lifted his glass and took a sip.
“But I’ve heard the book is selling extraordinarily well in the Muggle world.”
“Loads of Muggles are reading it, and they’re enjoying it too.”
The plump wizard and the third wizard exchanged a glance.
Both saw confusion and unease in each other’s eyes.
“Something’s not right about this,” the plump wizard said in a low voice.
“Very not right.”
“You can say that again.” The old wizard sighed.
“But there’s nothing we can do right now.”
“That book’s already sold out in the Muggle world.
I reckon even the Ministry wouldn’t be able to get a copy.”
The three of them fell silent for a while, each drinking from his own glass.
Just then, the door of the pub was pushed open.
A young man in an old trench coat walked in and headed straight for the bar.
“Tom, give me a Butterbeer.”
Tom glanced at him.
“Edmund?
Aren’t you supposed to be patrolling the Muggle world today?”
“Don’t ask.” Edmund took off his trench coat and hung it over the back of a chair.
“I ran into something strange today.”
“What sort of strange?”
Edmund took the Butterbeer, drank a large mouthful, then wiped his mouth.
“I saw a book poster in the Muggle world.”
“And it was for a book about Harry Potter!”
Tom’s hands instantly froze.
“What did you say?”
“I said there’s a book in the Muggle world that mentions Harry Potter, mentions Hogwarts, and mentions everything about the wizarding world.”
There was a trace of disbelief in Edmund’s voice.
“I passed a bookshop today and saw a poster in the window.
It showed a little boy with round glasses and a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.”
“That’s right, that was Harry Potter!”
“At first, I thought I’d seen it wrong.
But when I went inside and asked, the assistant told me it was a poster for a book called Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone.”
“And it’s selling so well that it’s already out of stock.”
Tom stood there wide-eyed.
“Then… was the book written by a Muggle?”
“How should I know?” Edmund shook his head.
“The assistant said the author’s called Allen Wayne, a debut writer no one had heard of before.”
“Merlin above, who knows whether he’s a Muggle or a wizard?”
Tom set down the glass in his hand, his brows knitting tightly together.
“This is far too strange.”
“That’s what I thought too,” Edmund said.
“That’s why I need to report it to the Ministry immediately.”
Tom thought for a moment.
“I don’t think you need to go.”
“Why not?”
“I’d wager the Ministry already knows.” Tom spoke with the air of someone making a very sound deduction.
“A book that’s selling that well in the Muggle world—how could the Ministry possibly not know?”
“If they haven’t acted immediately, it means they’re still watching.”
“Maybe…”
Tom shuddered and stopped speaking.
Edmund nodded thoughtfully.
“Then what should I do now?”
“Nothing,” Tom said.
“Best not to get on the wrong side of the people upstairs.
Watch and wait for now.”
Edmund nodded with a convinced expression.
“You’re right.”
“Come on.
Drink?”
“Cheers!”
~
Push the book forward by Adding to library and sending powerstones~!