The Interviewer • A George Weasley Fanfic

Take a Risk, Jane

APRIL 14th - 2000 - 3:42 P.M.

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"Jane, if you don't stop bouncing that pencil, I swear on that Muggle president- Tom Clinton- or whatever- that I'll hex your hand off."

Jane sighed, setting down her pencil. "It's Bill Clinton."

"Like I said," Benjamin replied, "whatever. It doesn't matter."

"I mean, he is the president-"

"Jane!" Benjamin slammed down his quill. "Look at yourself! You're melting in your own chair!"

It was true. Jane Forrest was slouching in her desk chair in the middle of the Ministry office, staring blankly at her typewriter with her pencil lazily dangling between her fingertips.

The sun was shining through the windows, which were freshly polished to show out into the bustling New York, location of the Magical Congress of the United States of America, location of the world of American witches and wizards who were rushing off to their jobs and fiddling with their cloaks and shouting across the sidewalks. Location of Ministry Journalist Jane Forrest, who was hanging her head back and staring at the ceiling tiles, listening to her best friend Benjamin Miller nag her. He had good intentions, though.

"I can't help that I'm bored out of my mind," Jane groaned, rubbing her eyes. "This story on the slight alterations in uniform robes for Ilvermony is so dull that I think my typewriter is begging me to stop writing."

"Hey, now," Benjamin pointed at her, standing up from his desk across from hers, "we came from Ilvermony."

"And what came from that?" she joked as he sat on the edge of her desk. "A series of droning Professors and walking in on sixth years going to town on each other in the broom closets?"

"And my fashion inspiration from Professor Kingsley," he added. "Say what you want about her hour-long lectures, but that girl knew how to dress."

Jane grinned. "Oh, Benji, I love how incredibly gay you are."

"Mm, me too," he sighed.

They shared a laugh before Benjamin spoke again.

"And don't forget your aced grades," he pointed out. "Without those, who knows where you would have been now."

Jane had to admit; she was grateful for her academic success at Ilvermony four years before. Without it, she likely wouldn't have been offered a pretty cozy job as a top journalist at the Ministry in her hometown of New York.

She loved to write, but it seemed that lately, her job was at a roaring halt. Not much had emerged for her to write on since the Second Wizarding War, and she was eager for excitement; rather than secretly gossiping with Benjamin at their opposite desks.

"You should just ask Sawyer to give you something new," Benjamin said quietly, nudging her shoulder. "You're smarter than this."

"She's my boss, she would have come to me if she wanted me to write on something new," Jane yawned, twirling her pencil in one hand.

"But she likes you," Benjamin pointed out. "Always has. Weren't you the one who got us all typewriters for the turn of the century? 2000, the year Jane Forrest convinced our boss to ditch the enchanted printing presses!"