The Invisible Book of Invisibility
From the first day Regina King walked through Hogwarts' large front doors she had known what she wanted to do with her life. Literature was her passion, and now, almost a year gone from Hogwarts for good, she was living that dream, embroiled in the fast-paced world of Powell's Publishing Company.
"King! Coffee in conference room B, and step on it!"
So maybe she wasn't writing the next great classic, or publishing highly influential manuscripts. But you had to start somewhere, right? And as the junior assistant to the Chief Editor, you started with fetching coffee.
Levitating a loaded coffee tray in front of her, Regina tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible as she rounded the small room, finally setting the tray down on a low table under a wall of windows before settling in a quiet corner herself to take notes on shipment details and deadlines.
" – had four owls this morning, complaining that their orders never arrived."
Misplaced orders. Regina knew what the rest of her day would consist of. Checking, and then rechecking all out-going shipment records until she discovered what had happened to the misplaced crates of books. Allowing her mind to wander, the rest of the meeting passed in a blur and all too soon Regina found herself doing just as she had predicted, wading through the stacks of invoices from the past week. Everything seemed to be in order but, as evidenced by the mountain of complaints received that morning, something somewhere had clearly gone wrong. With a sigh Regina pushed her fringe out of her eyes in frustration and began going through the records again.
"King! What are you doing? Get over here and make yourself useful!"
Looking up, Regina saw her boss, Alexander Turpin, glaring at her impatiently across the office. Regina rushed over to his side with a gulp, choosing to ignore the fact that she had only been following Turpin's orders in the first place. "What do you need, Mr Turpin?"
Turpin scowled at her response. "Don't call me that, I've told you – Mr Turpin is my father." The fact that Turpin was old enough to be her father didn't seem to have occurred to him. "I just got another owl about this damn book shipment. Big client, lots of money on the line here. I need you to head over to Flourish & Blotts and find out what the blazes is going on. And for the love of Merlin, keep them happy, King."
This was the break Regina had been waiting for! No more coffee or paper-pushing, she was finally starting to move up the ladder. Promising Turpin that she wouldn't disappoint him, she hurried out of the office and Apparated straight to the Leaky Cauldron. Nodding a greeting to Tom in passing, she made her way out into the back alley, and from there into Diagon Alley itself.
The street was full of happy, chattering people and the store windows Regina passed boasted a booming business. It seemed everyone except Powell's Publishing was having a profitable day, Regina reflected ruefully. Choosing not to focus on the misfortune, but rather the benefit of the unexpected responsibility she had been afforded, Regina marched purposefully forwards, feeling as though she had more in common with the happy, care-free passersby than first thought.
Flourish & Blotts was a rather large building bookended by a small stationary shop on one side and Madame Malkin's on the other. The two large display windows on either side of the frosted glass door showcased some of the most popular and fantastical selections in the store. Above it all hung a gold embossed sign proclaiming the name and the date established. Taking a deep, calming breath, Regina stepped up to the door and pushed inside. From somewhere deep within the store the sound of a bell rang out in greeting. A few people could be seen from where Regina stood, scattered throughout the stacks and a bored looking clerk lounged behind the counter, waiting for them to complete their purchases. None looked up at the sound of the bell.
"Hello there. My name is Regina King, I'm a representative from Powell's Publishing Company."
This garnered only slightly more interest than her entrance had. The clerk looked up lazily from the copy of Witch Weekly she had been flipping through, one eyebrow arched quizzically.
"I'm here regarding the shipment problem reported," Regina tried again.
"You want Mr Andrews in the back room, straight through that way."
Following the purple enamelled finger, Regina found her way to a single door half hidden behind a display at the back of the shop. It was adorned with an 'Employees Only' sign so Regina dutifully knocked twice. When that produced no effect, she tested the knob and, finding it unlocked, let herself in.
"What are you doing back here? Can't you read? This is an 'Employees Only' area!"
"I'm sorry, Mr Andrews?" At the man's curt nod, she continued. "I'm Regina King, from Powell's Publishing - "
She got no further before Andrews rushed to her side, gripping her arm tightly. His hair was wild, frizzing around his head like a golden corona, and his eyes were even wilder. "Thank Merlin, it's about time you did something about this. It's been an absolute disaster!"
Managing to detach herself, Regina took a step backwards. "What exactly is going on?" she asked, "I thought it was just a failed delivery?"
"Failed delivery? Good God, girl, what have they been telling you? A failed delivery would be a walk in the bloody park right now. This is absolute madness!"
Indeed, a touch of said madness seemed to have taken residence behind Andrews eyes as his hand swung wildly in the air above his head. Regina couldn't help herself from backing up another step, for the first time beginning to feel somewhat nervous about her assignment.
"Maybe ... maybe there has been a mistake? We received a complaint at Powell's ..."
"Yes, yes, of course you did. Don't you see? We ordered two hundred copies of The Invisible Book of Invisibility from you fools, and it says right here that they were delivered early this morning." Andrews waved a slip of pink parchment in Regina's face as proof.
"Well, if they were delivered on time ..." Regina trailed off upon seeing the atrocious shade of red Andrews face was turning.
"THEY'RE INVISIBLE, AREN'T THEY? I don't know where they were delivered to, or if they were even delivered ... I've been searching all morning, but I can't find them because I can't bloody see them!"
"Oh, my. Yes; well that is a bit of a problem." Regina finally began to understand where the mass panic seemed to be stemming from. "The first thing I think we need to do is to stay calm; all this hollering and carrying on won't get us anywhere." Regina paused for a moment to allow Andrews to agree with this plan of action. She looked at him expectantly but he merely sputtered and gaped a bit, which nonetheless had the desired effect of ending the hollering, so Regina continued. "Where is it that you typically receive deliveries?"
Andrews merely blinked, his mouth opening and closing silently a few more times before he shook himself with a sigh and turned away.
"Come on then, this way to Receiving. Maybe you'll actually have better luck than I did." His voice sounded much calmer, although there was now a dry undertone to it that Regina didn't really understand – she was only trying to help, after all. She didn't see what was so amusing.
Andrews lead her down the short hallway and past several doors with peeled-off lettering on their fronts. Finally stopping at one that was indistinguishable from the rest, Andrews threw the door open with a twist of the knob and stepped to the side, allowing Regina to enter the room before him.
Flourish and Blotts was just a small shop, wasn't it? Tucked snugly in between Madame Malkin's and the stationary? Why, then, was she standing in a room that looked as though it would just barely fit inside Gringott's lobby? Regina suddenly understood why Andrews had been so amused earlier, and did not think it very sporting of him to find the situation funny in the slightest.
"Oh ... my. Where ... where would be the best place to start, do you think?"
A snort was her answer, but a well shot glare garnered a more helpful response. "New deliveries arrive over there," Andrews gestured to the entire left side of the room. "Don't know how you plan on finding something you can't see, though."
The last part was said under his breath, so Regina elected to ignore it. "Well, that narrows things down considerably." Ignoring an eye roll as well, Regina continued. "You start at one end and I'll start at the other and we can meet in the middle. The shipment has to be here somewhere, right?"
Andrews snorted again, but obediently began tracking to the other side of the room without another word. Regina followed suit, internally reflecting that Andrews might be a whole lot quieter now than when he'd been hysterical, but he was certainly a lot more condescending. Regina pushed him from her mind and began to search her end of the room, arms extended before her to hopefully bump into something unseen. It did not take long for Regina to begin to truly appreciate and share Andrews' disdain. Honestly, who had come up with the idea for an invisible book anyway?
Regina continued to search, banging shins on wooden packing crates, and stumbling over stray books she had knocked over on one of her pervious pass-bys. The sun had long since stopped streaming through the high windows above, and she was bruised, stiff and tired by the time she finally found herself face to face with Andrews again. The entire warehouse area had been searched and, judging from the sullen expression plastered across Andrews face – the same one she was sure she wore herself at this point – it had been searched fruitlessly; not a single copy had been found.
"Gone," Andrews groaned as he sank down onto a nearby wooden crate. "All that money, might as well have Banished the lot of it."
Regina's stomach grumbled in response, and she suddenly realized just how hungry she was – she had skipped lunch in her hurry to get over to Flourish and Blott's and prove her usefulness to the company. Much good it had done her – all her afternoon and most of her evening, gone, and all she had to show for it was a florid collection of bruises and a client who she was pretty sure hated her.
"I'm sorry I couldn't have been more help, Mr Andrews. Erm, it's quite late, though, so I think I might be going ..." Regina trailed off when it became clear that Andrews was not listening, and in all probability had forgotten her presence entirely. She began to creep away from where he sat, muttering darkly to himself, throwing over her shoulder in a fit of professionalism: "Don't forget, if you have any further complaints then please don't hesitate to contact Powell's Publishing Company. Your business is important to us!"
Andrews didn't even look up to see her go.
Finally back out on the street Regina took a deep lungful of the night air, grateful not to find the stale, dusty taste of books filling her mouth. She glanced at her watch with a sigh, allowing her body to collapse back against the brick facade. This had been her one chance to prove herself at work, and she had failed miserably – not only that, she had wasted the whole day failing miserably. She was sore, and hungry, and exhausted, and had to be up in a little over nine hours for work. She didn't have time to stand around the empty Alley feeling sorry for herself, so she pushed herself off from the wall behind her and took her pity party on the road, stopping for some takeaway before heading home to her tiny flat. It was there that, an hour and a half later, Regina found herself feed, showered, and in bed, drifting off into an uneasy sleep.
Two hours before her alarm was set to go off, Regina was awoken by a sharp rapping at her bedroom window. She rolled over in confusion only to find a large feathered beast perched on her window sill, staring in at her with angry eyes. Swallowing nervously, Regina recognized the owl as belonging to Mr Turpin. Rising, she opened the window to let the terrifying beast in and took the proffered letter. Could Mr Turpin really have heard of her failure already? But why else would he have sent her a letter in the middle of the night? With a shaking hand Regina opened the envelope and began to read.
King,
Just got into the office and read the report from Flourish and Blotts. Don't know what the blazes happened over there, but whatever you did, worked. Andrews is one of the crankiest old badgers I've ever met; he must have really liked you to write anything this positive – only used "incompetent" twice, for Merlin's sake! Come see me when you get in this morning, I might have another assignment for you.
Alex T.
Chief Editor
Powell's Publishing Co.
Had she really been dreading going into work that morning? Surely not; Regina could barely restrain herself from rushing in that minute! Folding the letter up, Regina made her way to her kitchenette to put on a pot of coffee, knowing she wouldn't be able to return to sleep that morning. It was all just part of life in the fast-paced world of Powell's Publishing Company.