It’s nighttime, and London is chic as hell—everywhere except the Mexican dive Emma Watson has chosen for dinner. The place has a distinct after-work vibe; the frost-covered windows glow with garish colored lights and the bar is packed three blokes deep. It’s not where you’d expect to meet the Harry Potter star, yet here we are, sharing chicken fajitas and having a couple of passable mojitos. Watson points behind the bar, proudly declaring: “If you look up at those boards, my name is on them. For tequila shots.” Asked why she chose to meet at the culinary equivalent of Chili’s, she smiles. “I thought I would show you the dichotomy of my life.”