….
February 12, 2014 - 11:45 PM | Barnes & Noble - Fifth Avenue, New York City.
….
The line stretched around the block three times.
Regal stood inside the bookstore, watching through the window as fans bundled against the February cold waited with barely contained excitement.
Many wore Hogwarts robes, house scarves, and homemade wands. Some had been camping since yesterday morning.
All for a book.
His book.
Gwendolyn appeared at his elbow, holding a tablet that displayed real-time sales data. "Pre-orders hit 6.2 million copies. That's already a record, and we haven't even officially released it yet."
"How are the other locations looking?" Regal asked, checking his watch.
Fifteen minutes until midnight.
"London has already started - they are seven hours ahead. Reports are calling it 'unprecedented demand.' Edinburgh sold out their entire initial shipment in forty minutes. Tokyo has lines stretching for blocks. This is going to be the biggest book launch in history, Regal. Bigger than the Goblet of Fire."
Regal felt something tighten in his chest - pride.
[Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix] - was his darkest Harry Potter book yet - longer, angrier, more politically charged than anything he had written before.
Harry was fifteen now, dealing with trauma from Cedric's death, battling institutional corruption in the form of Dolores Umbridge, and facing the reality that the adults around him were just as flawed and frightened as he was.
It was a book about authority, resistance, and the cost of fighting for what's right when the system itself is broken.
And readers were waiting in freezing weather to get their hands on it.
"Five minutes." Gwendolyn announced. "You ready?"
"Wish me luck." Regal nodded flirtingly.
"Always love.
"But you gotta go–"
Gwendolyn pushed Regal toward the designated signing area - a staff member handed him a sharpie, and the store manager gave him an encouraging smile.
At exactly midnight, the doors opened.
The crowd surged - excited but orderly, carrying numbered tickets that determined the signing order.
The first person in line was a woman who looked about early twenties, wearing a homemade Dumbledore's Army shirt.
"Oh my god!" she breathed, approaching the table. "I can't believe this is happening."
"What's your name?" Regal asked warmly, opening the first book.
"Jessica. I started reading when I was fourteen - a friend got me into the series. She couldn't make it tonight, so..." Jessica gestured to the second book. "If you wouldn't mind?"
Behind her, the line shifted restlessly. A staff member hovered nearby, clearly anxious about the hundreds of people still waiting.
Regal signed both books quickly but carefully, adding a small message to each. "Thank you for being here." he said, sliding them back across the table. "I hope you both love it."
Jessica clutched the books to her chest like precious cargo. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
As she moved away, the next person stepped forward, a teenage boy with glasses and a lightning bolt drawn on his forehead. Then a mother with three children, a college student who had driven six hours to be here.
….
The next three hours were a blur of handshakes, signatures, and brief conversations with readers who had invested years in his version of Harry Potter's story.
Some brought all four previous books for him to sign. Others had elaborate theories about where the story was going.
One fan, a man in his thirties, approached with unusual nervousness.
"I know this might sound strange–" he said.
"But your books helped me come out to my family. When Dumbledore talked about love being the strongest magic, about choosing who we are rather than what we are born to be... it gave me courage."
Regal set down his pen. "That's not strange at all. I am honored that the books meant that to you."
Then came next–
"Will you sign it to my husband? His name is Marcus. He is the one who introduced me to Harry Potter."
Regal wrote:
For Marcus - Thank you for sharing these stories with someone you love. That's its own kind of magic.
The signing had been running smoothly for about two hours.
Regal was in his rhythm now, opening the book, asking for a name, signing with a personal message, smiling for the quick photo, next person. The line moved with practiced efficiency.
"Next, please!" called the staff member managing the flow.
A man in his mid-twenties approached, clutching a copy of Order of the Phoenix like everyone else.
He wore an oversized winter coat despite the bookstore's aggressive heating.
"Hey man, huge fan." he said, setting the book down.
"Thanks for coming out." Regal replied, uncapping his marker. "What's your name?"
"Derek. Listen, I just wanted to say—"
And then instead of placing his book down for signing, the man suddenly grabbed the front of his coat and yanked it open with both hands, the zipper tearing apart with dramatic flair.
Everything happened in two seconds.
Rock moved like a missile, one moment he was fifteen feet away, the next he had swept the man's legs, controlled his arms, and had him face-down on the carpet with a knee on his back.
The bookstore erupted in screams, fans scattered backward. Someone's coffee went flying.
"STAY DOWN!" Rock commanded, knee firmly planted. "HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!"
"WAIT WAIT WAIT!" Derek's voice was muffled against the carpet. "IT'S SPIDER-MAN! I AM WEARING A SPIDER-MAN COSTUME! I JUST WANTED IT SIGNED!"
The chaos froze mid-panic.
Rock carefully lifted his weight and looked down.
Sure enough, beneath the torn-open winter coat was a full red-and-blue Spider-Man suit, complete with web patterns across the chest.
A beat of stunned silence.
Then nervous laughter rippled through the crowd.
Gwendolyn stepped out from behind the table, voice tight with concern as she hurried toward the commotion.
"Oh my god… Rock, are you okay?"
Rock straightened, still braced in a defensive stance. "Yes, Madam - but please stay back. It might still be dangerous."
Regal shot him a look that clearly said, What about me? I am the one you were actually assigned to protect.
He had leapt to his feet during the chaos, marker still clutched in his hand, eyes fixed on the aftermath.
"Rock, did you just tackle Spider-Man?"
Rock helped Derek to his feet, looking simultaneously professional and mortified. "The aggressive disrobing matched the threat protocol, sir."
Derek was breathing hard but grinning like a maniac as he brushed himself off. "Dude! DUDE! That was incredible! I didn't even see you move! Can you teach me that?"
"No…" Rock said diplomatically, though his ears were slightly red.
The store manager rushed over, clipboard clutched to her chest. "Is everything okay, should we, do we need to call—"
"We are good." Regal said quickly, trying not to laugh. "Just a... misunderstanding."
Derek pulled off his Spider-Man mask, revealing an earnest, slightly sweaty face. "I am so sorry! I just thought - I mean, you directed the Spider-Man movie and Harry Potter, so I figured why not get both fandoms covered? Can you sign the costume? Right across the spider?"
Regal shook his head, still grinning. "Sure thing. What's your name?"
"Derek. And seriously, that security guy is awesome."
"Derek." Regal cut in gently but firmly. "This is a Harry Potter book signing. I appreciate that you enjoy my other work, but tonight is specifically for Order of the Phoenix. We need to keep things focused for everyone waiting in line."
Derek's enthusiasm dimmed slightly. "Oh. Right. I just thought…"
Regal glanced at the hundreds of people still waiting, then at Gwendolyn, who was already whispering urgently to the staff about new protocols.
He sighed.
"Tell you what. Since Rock already gave you the full security experience—" A few people in line chuckled. "—I will make an exception this one time. But just the costume. After that, we are keeping it strictly to the books. Fair?"
Derek's face lit up. "Seriously? Thank you! Thank you so much!"
Regal accepted a silver marker and signed across the Spider-Man emblem while Gwendolyn coordinated with staff members nearby.
Rock remained by the wall, arms crossed, face impassive. His eyes tracked every movement in the line.
As Regal signed the costume with a silver marker, Gwendolyn leaned in. "We should probably add 'no sudden disrobing' to the event guidelines."
"Too late now." Regal said, handing the marker back. "Though I am genuinely worried about what the Hangover fans might bring. Someone's going to show up with a live tiger, aren't they?"
Gwendolyn groaned. "Please don't manifest that into reality."
"Oh come on." Regal said as Derek proudly displayed his signed Spider-Man suit to the crowd. "What's the worst that could happen? Someone shows up dressed as the Shinigami with a Death Note?"
The next person in line, a young woman in full Ravenclaw robes - cleared her throat. "Actually, I did bring my Death Note. It's in my bag. I was hoping—"
"Of course you did." Regal laughed.
Once that was finished, it another's turn–
The woman pulled out a replica Death Note notebook, its black cover pristine. "I just want to say, the movie changed my life. And so did Harry Potter. You are basically responsible for my entire personality."
"Well." Regal said, signing both the book and the notebook. "Hostility I don't know how it takes that, but yeah thanks for the love."
The crowd slowly settled back into line formation, though now everyone was chattering excitedly about what they'd just witnessed.
Regal handed the marker back and returned to the table. "Alright, who is next?"
The woman in Ravenclaw robes stepped forward cautiously, keeping her hands visible. "Um, I just have the book, no costumes. Promise."
"Appreciate that." Regal said with a grin.
….
On the other hand, Gwendolyn immediately distributed updated instructions to all staff members.
Signs went up within minutes.
But as the night wore on, Regal noticed the rules were... loosely interpreted.
By 2 AM, Rock had adopted a thousand-yard stare. "Sir, if anyone brings an actual tiger, I am retiring on the spot."
Regal laughed, signing another book. "Come on, Rock. Where is your sense of adventure?"
Gwendolyn appeared with fresh coffee and a weary expression. "Three more hours until we close. Think we can make it without any more superhero incidents?"
"Don't jinx it." Regal said.
Somewhere in the back of the line, someone was definitely hiding a Super Man costume under their coat.
It was going to be a very long night.
….
Just like that–
By 3:30 AM, Regal's hand was cramping and his voice was hoarse, but the line was finally dwindling.
Gwendolyn approached with her tablet, that particular gleam in her eye that meant the numbers were ridiculous.
"First three hours: 847,000 copies in North America alone. Worldwide's still coming in, but we are tracking past two million for day one."
Regal flexed his aching fingers. "That's... I need sleep. My brain can't process numbers that big right now."
"You did it again, my boyfriend." she said, settling onto the edge of the table beside him - close enough that her knee brushed his shoulder. "Every single book is bigger than the last."
"I told you I would give you the best-selling book for the next ten years." Regal reminded her, bringing up the promise he had made the day they met.
"I still feel a little stupid for falling for such an impossible claim."
That drew a quiet chuckle from him. "Haa…"
She studied him for a moment, then reached over and pushed a water bottle into his hand. "Drink. You look like death."
"Flattery will get you everywhere."
"I am serious. You have been signing for five hours straight."
The last person in line approached, a woman in her sixties carrying a battered copy of Philosopher's Stone, its spine cracked from multiple readings.
"This is for my grandson." she explained, setting it gently on the table. "But I need to tell you - I have read all four books now. At first I thought they were just children's stories, something to share with him. But they are about so much more than that, loss, growing up, and impossible choices. Thank you for writing them, son."
Regal signed her book with extra care, and as she walked away, the exhaustion hit him like a physical wave.
Gwendolyn was already packing up materials, but her hand found his shoulder and squeezed. "You good?"
"Yeah. Just... feeling it now."
"Well, feel it fast. Two more signings tomorrow - noon in Boston, seven in Philly. Then you are flying to London for the UK leg."
Regal groaned. "What time's my call with Chris?"
"Hmm, according to Samantha. Tomorrow at 4 PM, via video call. Also I know I already asked this–
She paused, giving him a look. "But are you really sure about writing the POA screenplay while doing a book tour?"
Right, it had been almost half a year since Harry Potter second film was released, and since Regal was busy with [Iron Man] release, the team already started pre-production of [Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban] - despite not having a bounded script.
Surely, it was only possible because the book is already there… but still - he needs to finish the script.
"Do I have a choice?" Regal rubbed his face–
"I am already months behind. They started pre-production without a locked script because of Iron Man."
.
….
[To be continued…]
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