London Calling

Disclaimer- Don't own, don't sue

A/N I was watching What a Girl Wants and thought I could make it work in the HP universe. Cross your fingers!

..::ooOOOoo::..

"Where were you when the lights went out?"

"In the dark"

..::ooOOOoo::..

God, I'm so bored! Was the only thought going through my head as I leaned against the class counter that separated the register from the rest of the store, my chin resting on my palms. It was a slow business day at the music store I worked at. It was coming up on summer, bringing along with it heat and school break. I had just given my boss two weeks notice; hoping to get the summer off, maybe do some traveling… Maybe I'll go to England… It was rainy during the summer, right?

The bell above the door rang, signaling the entrance of customers.

"Hey, Jimmy." Not a customer. Kyle Johannsen brought his little sister here every week for her guitar lessons in one of the back rooms of the store, which ranged from half an hour, to an hour and a half, depending on how caught up student and teacher got that day; thus leaving Kyle to wait and chill with me, not wanting to get his parents angry about leaving the eleven year old by herself and forgetting about her… it happened once. It wasn't pretty.

"Hey, Kyle. Mandy." I smiled down at the girl. She blushed as she muttered something about having to get to her lesson before running off, her guitar bag bouncing on her shoulder as she did so.

"This crush thing she has on you is very entertaining." Kyle said with a smile. "She still has no clue she's got no chance with ya."

I shrugged as I straightened my posture. "She'll get over it soon enough. What're you doing for the summer?"

Kyle thought for a second. "Just be lazy, I guess. Maybe go to those bon fires down at the beach."

I raised an eyebrow. "You sure you wanna do that, dude?"

"One bad experience ain't gonna keep me away." Kyle said affronted.

"You fell into the fuckin' fire!" A new voice exclaimed.

"Hey Kat." We both muttered as we turned to look at the teenage girl standing next to a drum set with her hands on her hips.

Kat rolled her eyes. "I still can't figure out how Harry has more sense drunk than you do sober." She told Kyle as she walked over to him and wrapped an arm around his waist.

"I wouldn't say that… remember when we were at that club last sum-" I cut Kyle off by saying: "None of that now. It's in the past, where it will stay and never be brought up again. Even on the threat of a dreadfully painful death."

"I don't know what you're so ashamed of, Harry." Kat said as she smirked. "That chick was pretty hot, you know… if you take away about two hundred pounds."

"Kyle," I turned to my male friend in desperation. "Please make your girlfriend shut up."

"Gladly." Kyle smiled before placing his lips on Kat's, which only lasted a second as Kat had pulled away.

"What did you just say?" Kat looked angry; people often said that you never wanted to be on the receiving end of a red head's temper. I agree with that one hundred percent after being in that place many a time with my mother. But Kat was nothing compared to Lily Evans.

"I said: make your girlfriend shut up." The bell above the door rang again. "Now, I have some cash making to do. Excuse me." I walked over to the customer. "Do you need any help finding anything, sir?"

..::ooOOOoo::..

"Don't be stupid, it's not smart."

..::ooOOOoo::..

I had packed a suitcase full of clothes and other odds and ends. Said suitcase had to be checked and was now, more likely than not, waiting for my flight to leave, just as I, myself, was. I also had a carry on messenger bag that held my CD player, my seventy-two disc case (which was lapped over in some slots), my tooth brush, a change of underwear (just in case the airport lost my luggage), hair wax, a comb, and a few thousand dollars I'd changed into pounds.

I looked up from the magazine I had been reading, which someone had left in the seat next to me, when my plane's flight number was called over the loud speaker. I sighed as I stood, lifted the bag onto my shoulder, and walked over to join the line to the desk next to the hallway to the plane. There were five people before me and when I got up to the flight attendant I gave her my ticket and passport, she handed my passport back to me and slid my ticket through a machine that spat it out again on the other side of it before she handed it back to me. "Have a good flight." She said as I walked into the tunnel.

It took a couple of minutes to find my seat: D 14. So not only did I have an isle seat, but it was also in the middle section. When I found it, I set my bag in the seat and took out my CD player and case before putting the bag in the overhead and sitting down, listening to the soothing flutters of clarinets, violins, and flutes.

Forty five minutes later, I had to stand up three times to let a person pass and was now sitting next to a sort of boney, but pretty, woman who looked to be in her early to mid twenty's. The pilot finally came on the intercom and announced that they would be taking off soon and asked if everyone could turn off any and all electronics they may have taken out. I did so.

..::ooOOOoo::..

"Try your hardest. If that doesn't work, try harder. If that doesn't work, cheat. If that doesn't work… You're screwed."

..::ooOOOoo::..

The flight was long, the food smelled, and someone had brought their little five year old and under kids with them who were running all over the plane, crying and yelling. I was glad to be off the plane and was now walking over to the baggage claim, watching the belt turn as I waited for my suitcase.

After grabbing it, I wheeled it through the airport and out the doors leading outside. I looked around for a minute before finding a pay phone. I put a few coins in and called a taxi to pick me up; figuring I knew where nothing was in this city. Fifteen minutes later, the cab came and I climbed in, telling the driver to take me to an inexpensive hotel in London.

Once there, I made arrangements for a room and after a few minutes of trying to locate said room, I found it, swiped the key card and opened the door when the little green light came on. I set my suitcase down at the foot of the queen-sized bed before flopping down on it and grabbing the phonebook, which was on top of the nightstand, trying to find something to do.

Finding the phonebook too dull, I had decided to have a look around the city I had heard great things about from my mother.

I discovered people to be a bit more polite than those who lived in Rhode Island. It was refreshing. I chose to get something to eat for lunch, knowing it was just a waste of money, but wanting to be normal in this new environment.

I found a café a few blocks down a not too busy street and walked into the dimmer lighting, taking off my sunglasses and pulling down my hood as I did so. I walked up to the counter and ordered a small bowl of broccoli and cheese soup with a Coke from a stunned looking young woman.

I then went and sat at a small table in the middle of the dining room to avoid the windows after paying for my food.

As I waited for my food, I looked around at the locals eating their afternoon meal, simply observing. My mom had tried to break me out of the habit of watching people, but nothing worked. I just found them fascinating. Watching as they went about their lives, the people they see that may change their lives at some point, their habit of biting their finger nails or twirling their hair, how impatient they could get when waiting thirty seconds longer than they had planned on. Just everything about them was amazing. I've been watching people all of my life and in that time, I've learned when to not watch. Like when they're watching you is a good example. I had always found paranoid people the most entertaining to watch; they're always looking over their shoulders, making it trickier to watch, but that was the fun of it.

This thought ended when the small bell above the door rang. I glanced at the two men that had walked in, talking in quiet voices, wondering if I would watch them, before quickly turning my eyes back to my own table and fiddling with the salt shaker. I tipped it over, causing a small pile of salt to come out and grabbed a toothpick, moving the salt around to make pictures as the two men took the table next to mine.

My father was here.

A/N I hope you guys like it! sorry i havent updated any of my fics in... years haha '-_- ive been so busy. im in the process of transferring colleges (yeah i graduated) and a lot of family stuff has been going on. But i lost my best friend this september and that made me realize that i need to make time for the things i love. So all of my fics should be updated soon! *EXCITEMENT*

love,

Jessica