Another familiar hotel it was.
It had red velvet carpets spread all over its interiors, stretching from corner to corner, even draping from the banisters. In fact, it was quite ambushed in red; only the golden doors of the elevator had the realm of reality, only I knew it was a dream. The building was a paradox. I always couldn't get to the 3rd floor, no matter which route I took.

Someone was calling me from the 4th floor. The elevator only went up to 2. I had to swerve all round the first block of buildings to reach a flight of stairs, then, toppling over some Christmas decorations, I found myself lost in a corridor of fountains. The fountains sprouted water silently, as if something were going to happen.
It reminded me of the lobby--the lobby of The Ministry of Magic of course.

I half expected someone to come tumbling out from the shadows.

*       *       *

Roaming about the garden(of the hotel) as usual, I looked at my watch and saw it was already ten past four. I had a plane leaving at four thirty; I didn't want to rush, but I had company waiting for me to start leaving. (we were going somewhere in a group of 4 or 5). So I sprinted back to my hotel room, only to find one of them lying quite still on the stony surface of the front lobby. Her reflection on the luminous floor was magical, and the fountains were falling ever so silently.

Suddenly the lights went on. ---Were they off?
She spoke. "We had to leave. We had to leave, but James Crocket forgot his suitcase in Berlin."
"James?" I repeated. "Which....which James?"
"Crooocket." she croaked.
"Oh. Crocket. Right. And.....so....."
"But we are leaving, you know. We are." she pressed. "But I just seem to like it here, stuck on the floor."
I shrugged. "I know. It makes you feel like you're lingering on the edge."
"I missed the edge..." she batted her eyes furiously. "Oh, wait, I know. I know, I know. I know."
"Yes?"

"You're the edge." she said.