thecoolone: (contemplative)
Bill Weasley ([personal profile] thecoolone) wrote 2005-07-18 03:50 pm (UTC)

The corner of his mouth curls into a smile; they follow the mostly-naked people down the street until they turn left into what looks like a golden entryway. They walk inside and Bill looks up and up at the sky... no, it's the ceiling, painted to look like the sky and if the clouds were only moving, it would be like the ceiling in the Great Hall at Hogwarts.

But the clouds aren't moving, and it's impossible to tell what time it is in this place. The golden hue of the walls softly echoes up to the sconces lighting the ceiling or sky, and it really is a fairly breathtaking piece of work. The corridor is lined with shops and Bill can't help but laugh.

"Look, your boots. In..." he counts: "...seven colours, love. You can have a pair in each colour if you like." He points to a pair in international orange patent leather. "But first let's get you a drink, shall we?" They follow the walkway until they see a Roman Centurion standing guard.

A Roman Centurion.

No, it's just a costume; Bill walks Fleur to the bureau de change and turns a quantity of his Muggle paper money into a plastic card that reads Caesars Palace Las Vegas. Shrugging, he puts the card into his pocket and splits the poker chips with Fleur. He knows that by watching they'll be able to figure out exactly what they need to do.

And so they watch people sliding the plastic cards into something on a machine and then pressing buttons, and the lights and sounds are very, very pretty indeed, and a woman dressed in apropriately Romanesque clothing comes by to ask what they might like to drink.

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