Time flew by amidst everyone's anticipation, and soon the day arrived for the release of " Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Part 2)".
On November 15th, the London sky held a tense atmosphere from the very beginning of the day.
The queue outside the flagship bookstore on Oxford Street was even longer than it was in September.
The procession wound its way along the sidewalk, turned the corner, bypassed the closed record store next door, and extended into the alley behind it.
When Alfred arrived at the store at 5 a. m., he saw at least two hundred people wrapped in blankets and holding thermos cups, lined up at the door.
"My God..." He stood on the steps of the back door, his breath dissipating into a thin mist in the morning breeze.
Mary followed behind him, carrying a stack of newly printed restock labels:
"Boss, the warehouse is ready. This batch of 20,000 copies should be enough to get through the first wave."
Alfred took a deep breath and rubbed his hands together vigorously. "Just get through the first wave. I checked with the publisher yesterday, and there's another batch of emergency print runs arriving before noon."
He turned and pushed open the back door, strode into the store, hung his coat behind the counter, and rolled up the sleeves twice.
"Before opening, count all the spare cash at the cash registers and make sure you have plenty of change."
"Clear!"
In Manchester, Mr. Simon stood at the entrance of his bookstore, looking up at the sky.
The rain stopped, but the clouds hadn't completely dispersed, and occasionally a few rays of sunlight peeked through the gaps in the clouds, shining on the wet streets.
"Boss, there are already over six hundred people outside." The shop assistant ran out of the store, clutching a handful of change.
Simon calmly took a sip of tea from his thermos. "Six hundred it is. We have thirty thousand books in the warehouse this time; I refuse to believe it won't be enough."
He glanced at the queue and saw that many people were already flipping through the old version of the book, clearly passing the time while waiting.
He glanced down at his watch; there were still about ten minutes until nine o'clock.
"Have the cashiers prepare in advance. Start selling immediately at nine o'clock. Don't count the money one by one. Collect round numbers and keep the change in your hand beforehand. Be quick."
"Okay, boss."
In Edinburgh, long queues formed in front of Duncan Bookstore. Although it wasn't as large as those in London or Manchester, Duncan was quite satisfied.
He stood at the shop entrance, looking at Ian McEwan sitting in the outdoor seating area of the cafe across the street.
This renowned writer arrived early today, probably anticipating a queue, so he simply waited in the coffee shop first.
Ian saw him too, and raised his coffee cup across the street as a greeting.
Duncan smiled and nodded, then turned around and called out to the eager faces in the queue:
"Everyone, we have plenty of stock today, there's enough for everyone! We open at nine!"
An excited response came from the crowd.
In a chain bookstore in Liverpool, William stood in front of the whiteboard in the general dispatch room, a marker in his hand.
The real-time inventory figures for the seven stores are being written out on the whiteboard, with each store's figures marked with "Arrived" and "En route".
"The first batch of 5,000 copies has already been put on the shelves at the flagship store." The assistant flipped through the notebook beside her. "The North District branch said the line already stretches two blocks to the next street, and they asked if they could start selling earlier."
William, without turning his head, said, "Tell the North District to be at nine o'clock sharp, not a minute early."
"Last time we went on sale early, the owner of the independent bookstore next door called headquarters to complain about us for a whole week."
"OK."
Outside Duncan Bookstore in Edinburgh, some people in line were flipping through old versions of the first book, some were writing something in notebooks, and others were simply chatting with the person next to them about the plot of the previous book.
"What do you think is in the Chamber of Secrets?" a young man in a gray coat asked the bearded man next to him.
"I don't know, but it's definitely related to Slytherin. The book is titled ' The Chamber of Secrets,' and the blood-written words on the wall mention Heir of Slytherin; it's almost certainly true."
London, 9:00 AM.
The doors of the Oxford Street flagship bookstore opened precisely on time.
The first wave of readers flooded in, but this time, Alfred and Mary breathed a sigh of relief.
After two hours of relentless bombardment, although a large portion of the mountain of books on the counter had been removed, there was still stock in the warehouse.
When Peter pushed the cart out of the storeroom, his expression was much more composed than last time.
"Boss, the first wave is over." Mary stacked a pile of new books on the counter. "There are still a lot of people coming in now, but at least it's not as crowded as before."
Alfred wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve, noticing that although the line was still extending, it was moving much faster than before.
"Very good." He breathed a sigh of relief. "Have Peter go back to the warehouse and fill up that front shelf too."
At Simon Bookstore in Manchester, Simon leans against the wall next to the cashier, watching the line slowly move forward.
The first wave of the most frenzied buying spree has passed, and although readers are still coming in in droves, they are now able to maintain a certain level of order.
"Thirty thousand copies," he muttered to himself, a slight smile playing on his lips. "That should be enough, right?"
In Edinburgh, Duncan stood at the entrance, watching as the queue dwindled to almost half its original length, and a weight was finally lifted from his shoulders.
Ian McEwan walked over from the coffee shop, holding the book he had just bought, and waved it at him. "Finally got it."
Duncan smiled and nodded, "This time the supply is plentiful, no need to fight over it."
Ian glanced down at the book in his hand; the serpentine creature coiled around the stone wall on the cover gleamed coldly in the afternoon sunlight.
"I'll go back and check first," he said. "Goodbye."
"Goodbye."
Meanwhile, in countless corners of the Muggle world, more and more people are opening this book.
On the London Underground, a middle-aged man in a suit placed his briefcase on his lap and looked down at a book he had just bought.
A young girl sat next to him, also holding the same book. The two were about a fist's width apart, both reading the last volume.
No one spoke.
In the café, a young woman wearing round-framed glasses laid her book open on the table, resting her chin on one hand while slowly turning the pages with the other.
The coffee in front of her had gone cold, but she didn't even glance at it.
On a park bench, an elderly man with gray hair held the book far from his eyes, squinting as he read the last few paragraphs.
A teenage boy sat on the bench next to him, the same book open on his lap, his finger resting on the edge of the last page.
No one spoke; the park was so quiet that only the rustling of leaves in the wind could be heard.
Meanwhile, in the Wizarding World, outside Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley, a group of wizards gathered around books they had just bought from the Muggle world, squatting on the stone steps outside the store to read them.
At the Leaky Cauldron, Tom noticed that there were several times more customers than usual this afternoon, and everyone was holding a book.
"Are you here to drink or to read?"
He muttered something, but his hands didn't stop; he kept serving out Butterbeer from the bar.
The bar was so quiet that only the sound of turning pages could be heard, occasionally punctuated by a suppressed gasp or a muttered " Merlin's beard."
As darkness fell, every corner of the Wizarding World was filled with light: the shop entrances in Diagon Alley, the tables at the Leaky Cauldron, the benches at Honeydukes in Hogsmeade, and even the rest areas in the corridors of the Ministry of Magic...
Everywhere you look, there are people turning the pages of books.
Finally, like a bomb thrown into deep water, it surfaced and exploded completely.