Borrowed Time

Harry continued to gaze out the window, watching the comings and goings of the people of Godric's Hollow. He wondered if his Mum and Dad knew any of them, if any of these people had ever seen or even held him when he was an infant. Such wonderings, he knew, were pointless and certainly were not going to get him any closer to finding the four remaining Horcruxes. There must be better ways to spend his time than staring out the window.

Just as Harry moved to turn away, something caught his eye. "Not you again!" he said aloud, his voice sounding quite loud in the still, empty room. As if she could hear him, the red-haired girl who seemed to be haunting him looked up toward his window.

No, not toward his window. Just up in the same general direction. It wasn't as if she knew he was there, after all. Harry jerked the draperies closed and turned away.

"I'm going mental," he said. And then he was peering out through the parted draperies for another glimpse of the girl.

She was gone.

"Definitely going mental." With a sigh, Harry turned again from the window. Feeling the sudden need to escape from the closeness of the room, Harry stamped into his trainers and ran his hands over his disheveled hair in an attempt to somewhat flatten it. A moment later, Harry was making his way down the circular staircase and crossing the lobby of the inn.

Harry pushed the front door open just as someone was pulling it from the outside. They knocked into one another, and only Harry's quick reflexes kept the two of them from tumbling to the ground. He opened his mouth to apologise, but found himself unable to utter a word as he stood in the foyer of the inn holding onto the red-haired girl he had seen earlier. She apparently wasn't just a hallucination.

Up close, Harry realised, she looked nothing at all like Ginny Weasley.

"I'm terribly sorry," the girl said.

"Oh. No, not at all," Harry heard himself saying. "It was my fault."

The girl smiled at him. "Really?" she asked. "In that case, you can make it up to me."

"Huh?" Harry asked stupidly.

The girl giggled. "You could buy me a coffee. Or, if you're feeling particularly guilty about crashing into me, you could even treat me to dinner."

"Oh." Harry felt his face flushing. "I uh..."

"I'm only teasing," the girl said. "You don't have to do anything of the sort. Though...I wouldn't particularly mind if you did."

Harry felt as if his brain had turned to mush. He'd always been pants at talking to girls, and this was no exception. He managed to stammer something utterly incoherent.

To his surprise, the girl just smiled. "This inn has a really wonderful bistro. I was just heading there. You should join me. Buy me that coffee," she teased, bumping his arm with her own.

"Oh," Harry repeated. "Yes, all right."

The girl stared at him for a moment, and then shook her head slightly. "Well? Aren't you going to introduce yourself?"

Harry flushed again. "I'm Harry."

"Daphne. I'm pleased to meet you, Harry."

"You, too."

Daphne stood still again, watching Harry. She seemed to be waiting for something, but Harry had no idea what. Finally, she shook her head again. "You should offer me your arm."

Harry stammered something vaguely apologetic as Daphne curled her small hand into the crook of his elbow. As they made their way toward the bistro, Harry felt as if he had stepped into some sort of dream. Or nightmare. He wasn't really sure which.

As it turned out, the bistro had very fine coffee. The food was a bit pricey, and Harry admitted, red-faced, that he couldn't really afford to treat Daphne to dinner - however much he would like to. Daphne didn't seem to mind. The two of them ended up sharing a sandwich and an order of chips.

To Harry's surprise, he and Daphne managed to find things to talk about. He was afraid his own rather limited knowledge of the Muggle world would make him look sheltered at best and completely foolish at worst. They spent most of their time observing and commenting on the other diners or the people walking by outside the nearby window: the old lady who carried her tiny dog in a pink satin purse; the young couple across the aisle who seemed to do nothing but argue; the woman - was it a woman? - that was wearing a pink fur dress.

Before they knew it, the bistro was closing.

"I'd forgotten how early they shut down," Daphne commented. "It isn't even full dark yet." She paused outside the door of the bistro. "I've had such a good time with you. Seems a shame for it to end so soon," she said.

"We could go up to my room," Harry said. As soon as he voiced them, he realised how suggestive the words sounded. He flushed. "I didn't mean... That is...uh...."

Daphne laughed and gave Harry's arm a little squeeze. "I know what you did and didn't mean, Harry. And I'd like to come up to your room."