Disclaimer: All characters belong to JK Rowling, except those that you do not recognise. No profit is being made from this fic (goddamnit). Hotel Marco Polo is a hotel in Italy in Lake Garda. Go visit it, its very nice! The only thing I own is the plot and "The Old Pines", which is a very nice pub, if I do say so myself!
Hotel Marco Polo - Chapter Three.
Harry was lying on a sun bed, his eyes closed; he could feel the cool breeze drifting pass him. Oh, this was the life; this was utter bliss, but wait - what was that? He was sure he could here someone call his name from far away...
"Harry!!" There, they had said it again. And argh! What was that? He was sure the sun bed was NOT near a pool... he awoke, violently, to realise that there was water dripping down his face. He spluttered, opened his eyes to see the sight of Draco Malfoy sitting on his bed, grinning. It was, thought Harry irritably as he realised that he was not in warm, sunny Italy yet, a very disappointing end to a dream.
"Good morning!" said a cheery Draco, happily. "Holiday day!"
"Unnhh" replied Harry unintelligibly. He rubbed his eyes vigorously, and sat up. "You just ruined my dream. What time is it?"
"Er, 7:30" replied Draco, checking his watch.
"There's a 7:30 on a Saturday? I thought it started at like, 12:00 or something!" exclaimed Harry.
Draco rolled his eyes, and said dryly, "Sorry to wreck your beliefs, but if you don't get up, we're going to be late."
Harry got up, and headed for the shower.
One hour later, Harry and Draco were clutching their luggage and standing by the fireplace, preparing to floo to a pub, which was ten minutes walk away from Newcastle airport. Narcissa kissed each boy on the cheek, and waved him off. She herself was preparing to go and see her friend the next day. Draco went first, and shouted "The Old Pines" into the fireplace.
Harry waited, then waved bye to Narcissa and, taking a handful of floo powder, he threw it into the fireplace, yelled "The Old Pines" and hurled himself into it, clutching his bags tightly. After what seemed like an eternity, he felt himself slowing down. Taking a deep breath, he flung himself out of the grate, landing on the floor (yet again) of an old pub.
Draco helped him up; they bought two bottles of pumpkin juice and some chocolate frogs and, after receiving directions, set up the road for the airport.
It took the two boys ten minutes to reach the airport car park, where they stood, catching their breath, waiting for a courtesy coach to take them to the airport, as they couldn't "be assed walking a whole three minutes more" to get to the actual building, as Draco put it.
Harry and Draco were, at this point, beginning to get excited.
"Just think," said Draco, smiling "In a few hours, we'll be in Italy."
"I should hope so," replied Harry. "I wouldn't want to end up in anywhere like Wales for a summer holiday."
Draco rolled his eyes, but refrained from making any comment.
The bus took its time, and Harry explained how buses and cars actually worked to Draco, who, contrary to popular belief, actually was as fascinated with muggle things as Mr Weasley.
Not one, but two buses rolled to a standstill outside the shelter and Draco commented upon how buses were like sexy guys - you waited for years for one to come and then two come at once.
"Oh?" said Harry lightly; as they dragged their luggage onto the bus, with no assistance form the bored looking driver.
"Yeah," answered Draco. They sat down near the front of the coach and it accelerated fairly fast, causing Draco to grab onto for support. "The day you came to sit with me in Potions, Seamus asked me out.
"Really?" said Harry, incredulously.
"Yup," Draco said, smirking. "But I told him I was saving myself for someone else"
Harry raised his eyebrows, but didn't say anything; he didn't want to know whom Draco fancied. 'I am *not* jealous,' he thought. 'Draco's my friend!'
~~**~~
"Now where do we go?" asked Draco. They were standing inside Newcastle airport, looking lost.
"Um, we have to... check in", replied Harry. They wandered up and down the area, looking at the signs, until they found one saying "Verona".
"That's it!" exclaimed Draco.
The two contrasting boys joined the queue, and laughed at passing people ("Did you see that man's expression? He looked like he was going to *murder* her!").
Finally, they reached the desk, and waited while the muggle examined their passports, Harry feeling extremely nervous - what if she asked about the date?
However, she didn't, and asked them the usual questions, which Draco seemed very amused by.
"Did we pack the bags ourselves?" he whispered, as they walked away from the counter, heading towards Gate Eight. "No - I told a complete stranger what I wanted to put in it... and you hear that baaing? I have a sheep in there, does that count as a dairy product?"
Harry and Draco followed the signs to Gate Eight, and were soon sat in a waiting room.
"Can we go look in the shop? Can we?" asked Draco, sounding like a little boy
"Yes, Draco," replied Harry, trying not to laugh.
The shop fascinated Draco, as he looked at the muggle toys with a rapt expression on his face.
~~**~~
"Wow," breathed Draco, as he looked out the window, in the direction of the planes. "They're all so big!"
After much waiting, the attendant had announced that Flight number 562 to Verona Airport was ready to board, and every person in the waiting room bar, Harry, and Draco had scrambled to the door, each one trying to beat the other to it.
Gone five minutes, they held out their tickets as the security woman checked them, and held out the boarding passes as another guy checked them, too.
"God," complained Draco, as the two boys set out for the plane. "How many times do they have to make sure we're not trying to board the plane without tickets and boarding passes?"
"Only around three times more," said Harry, watching Draco's expression change from one of annoyance to utter resentment. "Joke, joke!" he said hastily. Draco stuck his tongue out at Harry in response.
They walked up the steps, passing a cheery flight stewardess who welcomed them optimistically aboard, and they fund their seats - 26A and 26B.
"Can I have the window seat?" asked Draco; sounding once more like he was three.
They waited yet again as more people boarded and shoved their bags into various overhead lockers, sat down, switched seats and did things which were unnecessary yet inevitable to a plane journey.
After much deliberation, the captain finally spoke, told them the names of their crew, and prepared for take-off.
"Ooh!" breathed Draco, instinctively grabbing Harry's hand. He blushed (A/N: yes, people, Draco blushed. Blushed!), and let go. Harry, acting on impulse, took it once more, and squeezed it tightly. Draco looked up gratefully, and smiled.
Well, there you have it. The third chapter of Hotel Marco Polo is now up and running. Please make a ficcer very happy and review her story... all comments are appreciated greatly.
Hotel Marco Polo - Chapter Three.
Harry was lying on a sun bed, his eyes closed; he could feel the cool breeze drifting pass him. Oh, this was the life; this was utter bliss, but wait - what was that? He was sure he could here someone call his name from far away...
"Harry!!" There, they had said it again. And argh! What was that? He was sure the sun bed was NOT near a pool... he awoke, violently, to realise that there was water dripping down his face. He spluttered, opened his eyes to see the sight of Draco Malfoy sitting on his bed, grinning. It was, thought Harry irritably as he realised that he was not in warm, sunny Italy yet, a very disappointing end to a dream.
"Good morning!" said a cheery Draco, happily. "Holiday day!"
"Unnhh" replied Harry unintelligibly. He rubbed his eyes vigorously, and sat up. "You just ruined my dream. What time is it?"
"Er, 7:30" replied Draco, checking his watch.
"There's a 7:30 on a Saturday? I thought it started at like, 12:00 or something!" exclaimed Harry.
Draco rolled his eyes, and said dryly, "Sorry to wreck your beliefs, but if you don't get up, we're going to be late."
Harry got up, and headed for the shower.
One hour later, Harry and Draco were clutching their luggage and standing by the fireplace, preparing to floo to a pub, which was ten minutes walk away from Newcastle airport. Narcissa kissed each boy on the cheek, and waved him off. She herself was preparing to go and see her friend the next day. Draco went first, and shouted "The Old Pines" into the fireplace.
Harry waited, then waved bye to Narcissa and, taking a handful of floo powder, he threw it into the fireplace, yelled "The Old Pines" and hurled himself into it, clutching his bags tightly. After what seemed like an eternity, he felt himself slowing down. Taking a deep breath, he flung himself out of the grate, landing on the floor (yet again) of an old pub.
Draco helped him up; they bought two bottles of pumpkin juice and some chocolate frogs and, after receiving directions, set up the road for the airport.
It took the two boys ten minutes to reach the airport car park, where they stood, catching their breath, waiting for a courtesy coach to take them to the airport, as they couldn't "be assed walking a whole three minutes more" to get to the actual building, as Draco put it.
Harry and Draco were, at this point, beginning to get excited.
"Just think," said Draco, smiling "In a few hours, we'll be in Italy."
"I should hope so," replied Harry. "I wouldn't want to end up in anywhere like Wales for a summer holiday."
Draco rolled his eyes, but refrained from making any comment.
The bus took its time, and Harry explained how buses and cars actually worked to Draco, who, contrary to popular belief, actually was as fascinated with muggle things as Mr Weasley.
Not one, but two buses rolled to a standstill outside the shelter and Draco commented upon how buses were like sexy guys - you waited for years for one to come and then two come at once.
"Oh?" said Harry lightly; as they dragged their luggage onto the bus, with no assistance form the bored looking driver.
"Yeah," answered Draco. They sat down near the front of the coach and it accelerated fairly fast, causing Draco to grab onto for support. "The day you came to sit with me in Potions, Seamus asked me out.
"Really?" said Harry, incredulously.
"Yup," Draco said, smirking. "But I told him I was saving myself for someone else"
Harry raised his eyebrows, but didn't say anything; he didn't want to know whom Draco fancied. 'I am *not* jealous,' he thought. 'Draco's my friend!'
~~**~~
"Now where do we go?" asked Draco. They were standing inside Newcastle airport, looking lost.
"Um, we have to... check in", replied Harry. They wandered up and down the area, looking at the signs, until they found one saying "Verona".
"That's it!" exclaimed Draco.
The two contrasting boys joined the queue, and laughed at passing people ("Did you see that man's expression? He looked like he was going to *murder* her!").
Finally, they reached the desk, and waited while the muggle examined their passports, Harry feeling extremely nervous - what if she asked about the date?
However, she didn't, and asked them the usual questions, which Draco seemed very amused by.
"Did we pack the bags ourselves?" he whispered, as they walked away from the counter, heading towards Gate Eight. "No - I told a complete stranger what I wanted to put in it... and you hear that baaing? I have a sheep in there, does that count as a dairy product?"
Harry and Draco followed the signs to Gate Eight, and were soon sat in a waiting room.
"Can we go look in the shop? Can we?" asked Draco, sounding like a little boy
"Yes, Draco," replied Harry, trying not to laugh.
The shop fascinated Draco, as he looked at the muggle toys with a rapt expression on his face.
~~**~~
"Wow," breathed Draco, as he looked out the window, in the direction of the planes. "They're all so big!"
After much waiting, the attendant had announced that Flight number 562 to Verona Airport was ready to board, and every person in the waiting room bar, Harry, and Draco had scrambled to the door, each one trying to beat the other to it.
Gone five minutes, they held out their tickets as the security woman checked them, and held out the boarding passes as another guy checked them, too.
"God," complained Draco, as the two boys set out for the plane. "How many times do they have to make sure we're not trying to board the plane without tickets and boarding passes?"
"Only around three times more," said Harry, watching Draco's expression change from one of annoyance to utter resentment. "Joke, joke!" he said hastily. Draco stuck his tongue out at Harry in response.
They walked up the steps, passing a cheery flight stewardess who welcomed them optimistically aboard, and they fund their seats - 26A and 26B.
"Can I have the window seat?" asked Draco; sounding once more like he was three.
They waited yet again as more people boarded and shoved their bags into various overhead lockers, sat down, switched seats and did things which were unnecessary yet inevitable to a plane journey.
After much deliberation, the captain finally spoke, told them the names of their crew, and prepared for take-off.
"Ooh!" breathed Draco, instinctively grabbing Harry's hand. He blushed (A/N: yes, people, Draco blushed. Blushed!), and let go. Harry, acting on impulse, took it once more, and squeezed it tightly. Draco looked up gratefully, and smiled.
Well, there you have it. The third chapter of Hotel Marco Polo is now up and running. Please make a ficcer very happy and review her story... all comments are appreciated greatly.