The Interviewer • A George Weasley Fanfic

You're a Bad Influence

SUNDAY, MAY 28TH - 9:37 A.M.

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Jane awoke with a dull headache and squinted eyes, slowly shielded by a hand raising to cover the blinding sunlight that seemed ten times brighter than any other morning.

She pushed herself up in bed, yawning and rubbing her temples, trying to remember the night before. Luckily, she recalled most of it; laughing with her new friends at the bar table, tapping a shot glass onto the wood at the exact same time as Ginny and Fred and throwing it back into her throat, listening to Harry complaining about his coworkers...

She counted her blessings that there was no sign of nausea just yet; Jane despised the thought of throwing up, and her eternal gratitude towards the universe was immediate when she realized the only thing bothering her was her head.

Slowly swinging her legs over the edge of the mattress, she ran a couple of hands through her messy hair and tried to remember more from the exciting night before.

She remembered George walking her back to her apartment, but didn't recall really any of the conversation; just that it was quiet on the street and she probably was laughing a lot at his jokes. Did he make a lot of jokes? What did she say?

Brushing it off, she carefully stood up, nearly toppling back over on the bed but regaining balance with her hands out. Chuckling to herself at the fact that she had gotten drunk with brand new friends (not to mention it included the Chosen One), she slowly walked forward to grab a glass of water.

The liquid felt cool down her throat and she knew it would help her head; she wondered if anyone else from last night felt hungover at all, or if they handled their alcohol a bit better.

To be fair, she thought to herself, I didn't drink all that much. I just can't seem to remember specifics in the conversations.

When she set the glass back down on the counter, she heard the phone ring.

Clearing her throat to make sure her morning voice didn't sound all too bad over the telephone, she moved towards the ringing and answered with a lazy movement of her hand.

"Mm- hello?"

"Morning."

His deep voice melted into her ear and caused the young woman's eyes to widen a bit. 

"George."

"Thought I'd check up on you," he said. "Wanted to make sure you weren't dead. Are you feeling alright?"

Jane felt herself start to smile. She leaned against the wall and held the phone base with one hand as she tilted her head up to look at the ceiling while answering.

"I'm okay," she said. "A bit of a headache, but... worth it. That was fun last night."

"I agree," George replied. "You're funny when you're buzzed."

"Shut up," she shook her head and heard him scoff a bit over the phone, amused. "You sound... fine."

"I only had a whiskey," he pointed out. "You, on the other hand, well-"

"I did not drink that much!" she laughed.

She heard the smile in his voice when he replied with, "yeah, yeah... do you, uh... remember much from last night?"

Jane sighed, casually stepping into a walk as she spoke on the phone. "I dunno... most of it, I'd say. Sometimes my brain sort of blurs the rest."

"You remember me walking you home, right?"