The following evening, the BBC studio was brightly lit.
The host, Richard Whiteley, sat in front of the camera, straightened his tie, and gave the teleprompter a professional smile.
"Good evening, everyone, and welcome to today's Good Night Great Britain."
"Today, we have a special feature," the host said with a deliberately mysterious air, "about a book that is changing the landscape of British publishing."
The camera switched to a backdrop of bookshelves filled with copies of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, their covers facing outward.
"Over the past three weeks, this fantasy novel by newcomer Allen Vane has sold more than seven hundred thousand copies."
"Not only has it sparked a reading craze here in Great Britain, it has also attracted publishers from Lighthouse Country, Maple Leaf Country, Kangaroo Country, and several other countries, all competing to bring it to their markets."
Richard picked up a sample copy and opened it to the title page.
"Some say it is the greatest work of fantasy since The Lord of the Rings."
"Some say it has redefined the boundaries of children's literature."
"And others say it is creating an entirely new cultural industry."
The screen switched to a recorded interview.
A middle-aged scholar wearing glasses sat in a study, with an entire wall of bookshelves behind him.
"I'm James Blackwell, a professor of literature at the University of Cambridge."
"In thirty years of literary research, very few books have made such a profound impression on me."
He held up his copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, his expression serious.
"The language of this book is concise without being simplistic, and its structure is rigorous without being rigid."
"Most importantly, it creates a world that feels utterly believable."
"Yes, when you read it, you forget you're reading a book. You feel as though you've truly stepped into that magical world."
"That is a very special gift, an innate gift for storytelling."
The screen switched back to the studio.
Richard smiled at the camera. "Professor Blackwell has given it very high praise. But we also interviewed two other special readers-"
The camera switched to a primary school in London.
A group of children sat together in a classroom, each holding a copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.
A little girl with a ponytail said excitedly, "My favorite part is when Harry gets his letters! I really want to get a letter delivered by an owl too!"
The little boy beside her rushed to speak. "I like Quidditch! Flying around on a broomstick is so cool!"
"Do you think magic is real, then?" the reporter asked.
The little girl gave it some serious thought. "I think it might be. There's so much detail in the book, it doesn't seem made up."
The little boy nodded vigorously. "I think so too! Maybe one day I'll find Platform Nine and Three-Quarters!"
The screen switched back to a newspaper's editorial office.
An elderly editor with graying hair sat at a desk piled with readers' letters.
"I'm Henry Ford, literary editor of The Guardian."
"In forty years in this profession, I've never seen anything like this."
He picked up a letter and read, "'I'm sixty-three years old, and I've never read a fantasy novel in my life. But my granddaughter insisted I read this one, and I ended up finishing it in one sitting. Now I'm even more impatient for the second half than she is.'"
He picked up another. "'I'm a construction worker, and I normally only read sports news. But this book reminded me of my childhood, when my imagination knew no bounds.'"
Henry put down the letters and said with feeling, "This book crosses the boundaries of age, gender, and occupation. It makes people who don't read start reading, and people who don't indulge in fantasy start imagining."
"That is the power of literature."
In the studio, Richard put down his script and looked at the camera.
"As we've seen, everyone, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone is no longer just a book."
"It is a cultural phenomenon, a cultural miracle belonging to Britain."
"And even more excitingly, the publisher has announced that the second half of the book will officially go on sale on October 1."
"Then, we'll finally discover just what the secret surrounding the Philosopher's Stone really is."
He paused and gave a mysterious smile.
"I've already pre-ordered a copy. Have you?"
The day after the program aired, another reading craze swept across Great Britain.
People who hadn't been reading the book went to bookstores to buy it out of curiosity, while Harry Potter fans were already jumping for joy.
An unparalleled sense of honor enveloped them-we read a book recommended by a BBC program like this, which proved we had excellent taste.
At school, children imitated the spells from the book during breaks.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" a boy shouted at an eraser on his desk, waving his pencil.
The poor eraser didn't budge.
The girl beside him rolled her eyes. "You have to wave a wand, not a pencil."
"But I only have a pencil."
The boy solemnly raised his pencil again and shouted once more, "Wingardium Leviosa!"
The eraser still didn't budge.
"Maybe you need a real wand," the girl said.
"My mum said she'd buy me a merchandise wand for Christmas."
"Wow, you've got ages to wait, then."
"That's all right," the boy said with a smile. "I can practice the spells first."
"And I'll get to read Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Part Two, before I get my wand!"
Meanwhile, the phones at Bloomsbury Publishing were practically ringing off the hook.
Barry sat in his office as the phones in front of him rang one after another.
As soon as he answered one, another started ringing.
"Hello? Barry speaking."
"Mr. Barry! This is Alfred from the Oxford Street bookshop! I need to increase my order!"
"How many?"
"Five thousand!"
The pen in Barry's hand nearly fell to the floor. "Five thousand? Didn't you just take a thousand last time?"
"Sold out! Every last one!" Alfred's voice carried a wild excitement.
"After that BBC program aired, more than two hundred people were queuing before we opened this morning!"
"All thousand copies sold out within an hour!"
"I still have at least three hundred people waiting outside!"
Barry took a deep breath. "All right, I'll add that."
He had barely hung up when the phone rang again.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Barry! This is Simon from Manchester!"
"I want to order ten thousand copies!"
Barry rubbed his temples. "Mr. Simon, are you sure?"
"Absolutely!" Simon's voice was firm beyond question.
"Ever since that BBC program aired, my phone hasn't stopped ringing."
"They're all asking about that book!"
"Right now, I wish I could fill my entire warehouse with Harry Potter!"
"All right, I'll add that." Barry made a note in his notebook.
The phone rang again.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Barry, this is William from Liverpool!"
"Each of the seven branches in our bookshop chain needs another two thousand copies!"
"So that's fourteen thousand?"
"Yes!"
In thirty years in the business, Barry had never seen anything like it.
One book had triggered such a frantic buying frenzy, all because of a single television program.
He hung up and told the assistant beside him, "Tell the printer to add two more production lines."
The assistant's eyes widened. "Sir, we already have six production lines..."
"Then make it eight!" Barry said. "If that's not enough, make it ten!"
The assistant opened their mouth, but ultimately said nothing, turning and running out.
Of course, alongside the additional orders for Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Part One, there were also pre-orders for Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Part Two.
The most staggering of these came from a nationwide bookshop chain, Waterstones.
Their purchasing director called Barry personally.
"Mr. Barry, I'm Michael Jones, purchasing director at Waterstones."
"We have two hundred branches nationwide."
"We'd like every branch to have at least a thousand copies of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Part Two, in stock on October 1."
Barry did a quick calculation.
Two hundred branches, five hundred copies each-that came to two hundred thousand copies.
"Two hundred thousand copies?" he confirmed.
"Yes, two hundred thousand." Michael's voice was calm, as though he were discussing something utterly trivial.
"And that's only the initial order. If sales are good, we'll immediately order more."
Barry shook his head helplessly. "Are you sure?"
"I'm absolutely sure," Michael said.
"After the BBC program aired, we conducted market research."
"The results showed that at least thirty percent of people in Great Britain know about this book and are interested in buying it."
"Thirty percent of the population-that's nearly twenty million potential readers."
"Two hundred thousand copies is only the beginning."
Barry took a deep breath. "All right, I'll put you down for that."
Two hundred thousand copies, and that was just one bookshop's pre-order.
After taking many more calls one after another, Barry exhaled, picked up the phone, and dialed the printer's number.
"Hello? Barry speaking."
"I need you to add another four production lines."
A wail came from the other end. "Sir, we already have eight production lines!"
"That's fine. Make it twelve!" Barry said. "Keep production running twenty-four hours a day!"
"But the workers have already been working overtime for two weeks straight..."
"Then hire temporary workers!" Barry said. "Pay more! Triple wages! Five times the wages!"
"As long as you can deliver on time, I don't care how much it costs!"
There was silence on the other end for a few seconds, followed by a resigned voice. "All right, I'll arrange it."
Barry hung up and let out a long breath.
He walked to the window and looked out at the busy street.
October 1 was almost here.