Disclaimer: I have no claim to Harry Potter at all, only this random storyline.
A/N: May Quill Challenge at The Hideaway. Must include travel complications.
This was certainly a complication. Of course, all things considered, it could have been much worse, but he could not think about that. If he thought worse things, they would probably happen and then he would really be in trouble. It was not as if this was even a difficult trip. It was just one he was not used to. The joys of muggle transportation: you could not always rely on it to be on time. And that was how Harry found himself arriving in Minneapolis, Minnesota six hours later than he was meant to. It was also how he found himself in need of American money, a specific hotel room, and a taxi to take him to said hotel room in the middle of winter no less.
Harry made his way through customs easily enough. They all looked at him kind of oddly, especially because the scar on his forehead was so distinctly lightning bolt shaped, but so far his only problem had been a delayed flight because of the weather. They had been stuck in holding pattern after holding pattern while the airport officials were trying to clear the runways and allow planes to land. They were about to be diverted south at one point, but the weather was just as awful all over the Midwest so they stuck to the original plan.
Harry grumbled to himself as he traversed through the foreign airport. He knew his American contact would not stick around for very long, especially given the weather. It only seemed to want to get worse. The shock came when Harry stepped outside. He had been warned that it would be cold, but he did not expect this cold. It was worse than the cold he experienced during his third year with the Dementors. It was windy, snowy, and downright freezing. He heard a passerby casually remark that it was thirty below with the wind chill. It did not quite compute in his head that they meant Fahrenheit, but it did not matter. He just knew it was cold. And he did not have a heavy coat. Plus he was now standing in the cold with no money and seriously in need of a taxi. He observed the other people and put his hand in the air. Finally, a yellow vehicle pulled up to him. He piled in with his one piece of luggage.
"Where to?" the driver asked with a strong Midwestern accent.
"Um, a hotel, the uh," Harry pulled out a sheet of paper that had his itinerary on it. "The Hotel and Conference Center on Campus Drive in Minneapolis."
"From out of town, eh?" Harry nodded. "Thought so. You need a better coat, son. It's much too cold for that flimsy thing you've got on."
"Yes, thank you," Harry said, not wanting to be impolite despite the jetlag he was currently experiencing.
"You do have money, right?"
Harry dug around in his pocket for his wallet. He pulled out a plastic card that one of his coworkers suggested he acquire. "Will this do?"
The driver glanced at it quickly. "Yeah, that'll do fine." He pulled away from the curb and started driving. Harry was too tired to take in the city as they drove. He even fell asleep for a short time before the driver stopped the car and said, "Hey, kid, we're there? Need any help?"
Harry, still half asleep, looked out his window. He looked up and realized he really was not in Britain anymore. The buildings all looked too new. They were large, but new. "No, I'm fine. Thanks." He handed the plastic card to the driver who swiped it through a machine.
"Sign the slip of paper, please."
Harry fumbled with the pen for a moment, managed to get his signature on the receipt and then reclaimed his credit card. He grabbed his bag and hauled it out of the taxi with some effort. Harry shivered in the cold for a moment. The taxi drove away several seconds later and Harry was still standing outside the hotel looking up at it. Tires screeched in the distance, breaking his trance. He shivered again, picked up his luggage and walked into the building.
Harry was glad the lobby was warm. He found his way across the large, luxuriously decorated lobby to the check in desk.
"Hi, um, Harry Potter."
"One moment please," the lady behind the counter told him. She clicked and clacked away at the keyboard for a moment and then said, "Mr. Potter, we're pleased to have you." She hit a bell on the counter. A boy who was probably only several years younger than Harry came and took Harry's luggage. "Here's your room key. You're in 547. Jason will show you to your room. Have a nice stay."
Harry took the plastic card a little confusedly and replied, "Thanks," before following Jason to the elevator. When they reached the fifth floor Harry was nearly asleep again. He lagged behind the over eager bell boy who had to demonstrate how the keycards worked. Harry tried it several times himself before finally getting it, even though he knew he would forget the next day just because he was currently so tired. He finally just crashed on the bed without bothering to change into his pajamas.
At 6:30 the next morning the phone rang, unhappily waking Harry. A male voice said, "Mr. Potter, you're needed in the conference center. They say you're late and that you better be there in five minutes or you're fired."
Harry woke up very quickly then. Realizing he was still in his clothes from the day before he grabbed the clothes that were on the top in his luggage and threw them on. He raced to the elevator, hit the button for the basement and soon found himself in the wrong part of the building. He got back in the elevator, hit the "1" button and then raced from the elevator across the lobby to where he saw the conference center. He ran into the room and all the way up to the front where his boss was standing.
"Mr. Potter, it's about time you made it. Three more seconds and we'd have had to fire you."
"I'm terribly sorry, Minister. I can explain though. My plane was delayed and I had to get a taxi and then get to the hotel and learn how to use the keycards and by the time I got to bed it was nearly three in the morning so I forgot to set an alarm and with the jetlag and everything, I just . . ."
"It's quite all right, Mr. Potter. I understand. It sounds like you've had some travel complications. I had a few of my own, I must admit."
"Yes, sir."
"Take a seat, would you? And you might want to button your shirt properly."
Harry looked down and realized his buttons were not properly lined up. "Yes, thank you, Minister." He sat down.
"Oh, and Harry?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Tell me about my grandchild?"
Harry smiled. "He's beautiful sir. Ron and Hermione named even him after you."
"Excellent. I hope you sent my regards."
"Of course, sir. But on the way back promise me that I can take a portkey."
"After the fiasco you had with muggle travel, you can return in whatever way you wish."
"Thank you, sir."
Harry gave a sigh of relief as Minister of Magic Arthur Weasley announced loudly, "Now, I would like to welcome our American friends and our international friends to the two hundred and fifty-sixth annual International Magic Convention. I realize it's rather early in the morning, but when you have as much to try and get through in three days as we have, early mornings are the only way to go! I hope those of you who were inconvenience with travel will forgive us because we really could not influence the weather to behave."
Harry chuckled and then turned his focus on the proceedings of the day trying to put his previous day's travel issues behind him.
The End