Borrowed Time

Godric's Hollow was nothing like Harry had expected. The name had always brought to Harry's mind images of a village similar to Hogsmeade, and in some ways the two little towns were quite similar. Both were full of shops and homes and milling people. Both were somewhat isolated, surrounded by picturesque countryside. There was one glaring difference, however; where Hogsmeade was a wizarding village that resembled a Currier and Ives Christmas scene, Godric's Hollow was completely Muggle.

Harry had known that Godric's Hollow must be a Muggle village, Hogsmeade being the only wizarding village in all of Britain. He and his friends had even prepared accordingly, leaving their old trunks behind in favour of Muggle carryalls. Still, seeing the reality of it laid out before him was somewhat of a shock.

Beside him, Ron stared around in wonder. Even after two weeks spent at Privet Drive, he remained fascinated with all things Muggle. He stopped suddenly in the middle of the street, pointing off into the distance. Even as he was opening his mouth to speak, Hermione turned on him, shushing him and pushing his arm down.

"Ron, don't. It's rude," she said. "And you're drawing attention to us."

"Sorry," Ron mumbled.

"S'ok," Harry assured him. "Just let us do the talking for now," he added with a wry grin.

Ron gave him a wan smile. He wrapped his arm around Hermione's shoulders as they made their way down the unevenly cobbled main road, hoping to find rooms to let.

They were nearing the end of the lane and beginning to despair when Ron stopped and pointed again. "There," he said simply. "That has to be an inn or somesuch, doesn't it?"

The regal building looked nothing like the rest of Godric's Hollow. Where the town was mainly comprised of small shops and cottages, the inn - or whatever it was - towered and gracefully sprawled. The outside was well cared for, freshly painted with no sign of sagging shutters or clogged gutters.

Harry sighed. "I hope we can afford it," he said, thinking of the meager store of Muggle money they had brought along.

"We'll manage," Hermione soothed.

Nodding slightly, Harry began to move forward again.

The building turned out to be not just an inn but a bed and breakfast, the purpose of which was to bilk tourists for as much money as possible. Harry chewed his lip thoughtfully as he handed over enough notes to rent a room for the night; they would have to make a trip to Diagon Alley for more funds if they decided to stay any longer. A moment later, the dour desk clerk handed Harry a key and, his eyes wandering over the three friends in undisguised contempt, bid them a pleasant stay.

They were all grateful to escape to the rented room.

Taking only enough time to unpack and send Hedwig off to Bill, they slipped out again and made their way back down the street to a small cafe they had seen earlier in the day. A quick glance at the menu confirmed Harry's hopes: the prices were low enough that they could afford a few meals here.

"Remember to follow our lead, Ron," Hermione said. "We don't want another incident like we had in London."

Ron flushed and hid behind his menu. "I made one tiny, little, honest mistake, and now I'll never hear the end of it. Give it a rest, will you?"

"Little mistake? Ron, they thought you were an escaped mental patient."

"And wanted to lock you up," Harry added.

Ron peered over the top of his menu to glare at Harry. "You're not helping."

"Sorry," Harry replied. "Ron's right, Hermione. You should lighten up a little. After all, anyone could have mistaken that man for a goblin."

Hermione ducked behind her menu, but the thin paper did nothing to mask the sound of her giggles.

"Fine, I fucked up. Can we move on?" Ron asked, tossing his menu down onto the table.

"Would you mind not using profanity in my restaurant?" a gruff voice asked from directly behind Ron. All three of the teenagers started, not having seen the man making his way to their table. "You know what you want?"

"Three cheeseburgers with chips," Harry ordered, cutting off Hermione's protest with a look.

"And those fizzy drinks," Ron chimed in.

"Three Cokes, then," Harry said.

"Right," the man said. He strode back toward the counter, hardly sparing a glance at any of his patrons.

Harry watched the man walk away and then turned back toward his friends, who had resumed their bickering. A flash of Weasley red outside the café window caught his eye, and he half rose in his seat, staring.

Ron and Hermione immediately turned to follow Harry's gaze. They shared a confused look.

"Harry?"

Harry slumped back down in his chair. "I could have sworn I saw Ginny."

"Harry, Ginny's back at the Burrow. Safe and sound," Hermione assured him.

"I know. But there was this girl.... It wasn't Ginny, but for a moment, I thought it was."

Hermione and Ron shared another look, this one full of concern for their friend. "Harry...."

"Nevermind," Harry said, cutting off whatever well-meaning comment Hermione had been about to make. "We need to focus."

"There's nothing to focus on, mate," Ron reminded him.

"Ron's right. Until we hear from Bill, we just have to wait."

"And we all know I'm ace at that," Harry grumbled.

Uncomfortable with the downward turn the conversation seemed to be taking, Hermione changed the subject. She began rambling off what little information she had been able to gather on the village of Godric's Hollow, somehow managing to fill the silence until their meals arrived.

The three friends ate in relative silence, punctuated mostly by Ron's comments on the Muggles dining nearby and Hermione admonishing him to refrain from talking with his mouth full. When they'd finished eating, they made their way to the counter to pay their bill. Hermione carefully recounted the change the gruff man handed back to her, and then, as he was turning away she called out to him. "Excuse me. Sir?"

"Yeah?"

"I was wondering if you could tell us where to find the village cemetery."

The man narrowed his eyes. "What business have you kids got going to our graveyard? If it's about some sort of dare..."

"My parents are buried there."

The quiet conviction in Harry's voice stopped the man mid-sentence. "You don't say. Who were your parents, lad?" he asked, his gruff tone softening slightly.

"James and Lily Potter."

"Harry!" Hermione hissed.

"Lily Potter? I remember her. She used to come in her quite a bit, back when my Da' was running the place. Helluva woman, she was. Smart. Kind. It's a real shame about what happened." The man paused. "Did they ever work out just what did happen?"

"I don't know, sir," Harry replied. "My aunt and uncle - the ones who raised me - they never talked much about my parents or about what happened to them. They didn't much care for my parents."

"I can't imagine anyone not liking Lily," the man said with a slight shake of his head. "Never met your Da', but I'm sure he was a fine man."

"Thank you."

The man gave them directions to the cemetery, making Harry repeat them just to be sure he wouldn't get lost. "Come back before you leave town," he added. "I might can dig up a couple of stories to tell you about your Mum."

Harry promised to come back and thanked the man again for his help. As he stepped out of the café, his heart was a little lighter. His decision to come to Godric's Hollow had been the right one.