The Interviewer • A George Weasley Fanfic

You're Not From Here

MAY 20th - 2:00 P.M.

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Jane tugged her bed comforter taught and stood back up, planting her hands on her hips and observing the studio apartment before her.

She smiled at the sight of her luggage all unpacked, neatly tucked away in drawers, while her other smaller items like her antique lamp and pale blue typewriter were set up as well around the space.

Jane was stunned that she was able to snag a rather impressive London studio apartment; it was small like she expected, but there was a half-wall divider between two sections of the flat that gave a bigger feeling to it overall. She didn't even need a roommate for the rent, and Jane liked this; she enjoyed privacy and time to herself.

The busy streets of London bustled outside her windows. She gazed out the glass, taking in the sight of Britain standing before her, coiling her hands around the wood ledge and sticking out the window to breathe in the spring air.

Someone on the sidewalk below let out a very British "oi, pretty lady!" and Jane looked down to see a thirty-something man looking up at her with a goofy smile. She laughed and waved and watched him saunter down the street, continuing on.

Her apartment was set up, her things were unpacked, and Jane was eager to go out in the new world she was now living in.

She had apparated safely to the city, which was incredibly beneficial to the amount of luggage she had with her due to moving.

Knowing her next item on her agenda, Jane grabbed her wand and stuck it in her long knitted shoulder bag, which she slung over herself before sticking her feet in her sneakers.

It was sunny outside, and busy as ever. Jane was used to the hustle and bustle of urban life, due to her New York roots, but this was different, in the way that the people dressed a bit differently and the shouts across the sidewalk were coated in accents.

Looking down at her notebook in one hand, Jane read to herself as she walked: "women's restroom to the right of Fleet Street... enter the left entrance..."

She made her way down the street and stifled a giggle when a group of young men, clearly friends, passed by and all tried to charm her with smiles and pushed each other around to catch her attention.

At last, she found herself in line to the correct women's restroom, only to realize that the next step was to... flush herself down the toilet.

Jane gulped at the thought. Did she truly have to flush herself?

She pushed into an empty stall when it was her turn and shut the door behind her, twisting to face the toilet as if it were her execution.

Cringing, she stepped into the bowl, placing both feet beside each other, and looked around to see how to complete the task.

Feeling foolish, she stood up taller and planted her hands on the stall wall to peer over into the other one, hoping she didn't look too silly.

She saw a young woman who looked to be about her age, or possibly a bit younger, with long, curly brown hair, almost bushy, and a pretty, slim face.

"Excuse me..." Jane whispered, earning the girl's attention, "...uh... how exactly do I... go down...?"

"Oh, it's quite easy," the young woman replied with a friendly smile. "Tremendously unappealing, yes, but easy. Just look to your right and pull the cord."

Jane turned and saw a dangling handle. She scoffed at herself.

"How did I not see that..."

"Don't worry," the young woman whispered with a wink, "happened to me my first time coming here."