Disclaimer: No, a thousand times no.

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It was almost ludicrous, really, to be going to a birthday party when the world was going to Hell, James thought, but at the same time, he completely understood. After all, Harry's birthday was in two months. Wouldn't he and Lily do the same for him?

There were things you did for your children, James thought fondly as he, Lily, and Harry Apparated to the Order Headquarters for Sam Fenwick's eleventh birthday celebration. He had met the boy several times; normally, he stayed out of the way during Order meetings, but he had come downstairs before or after them a time or two, and gotten acquainted with some of the members. He could be very shy, but he was extremely well-behaved and polite, and had the same smile as his father. It was obvious that Benjy knew exactly what he was doing when it came to parenting.

It was Benjy who asked for the security phrases once they'd arrived. When that was done, he was all smiles, welcoming them into the house. James had to smile too when he saw how festive it looked; there were balloons everywhere, with white streamers on the walls with blue letters on them that said: HAPPY ELEVENTH BIRTHDAY, SAM! There was music playing in the living room, and once again, there were delicious smells coming from the kitchen.

In the living room, the birthday boy was sitting on the couch, and there was a pile of presents sitting on the floor next to him. The Potters placed their gift there too; it was a book on wizarding history. Benjy had told them that Sam was very interested in wizarding events of the past.

"Hello, Sam," Lily said as she and James went over to him. Harry was awake, and he squirmed in her arms as she sat beside Sam on the couch. "Happy birthday." She looked down at Harry. "What would you like to say to Sam, Harry?" she asked in that high-pitched voice parents always use with babies and animals.

Sam smiled at Lily and Harry, a soft, shy smile. "Hello, Mrs. Potter. Hi, Harry. Thank you for coming," he said. Seeing James standing beside Lily, he added, "Hello, Mr. Potter."

"Hello, Sam," James said. "It's nice to see you again. Eleven, eh? You'll be going to Hogwarts soon."

Sam grinned. "I can't wait!" There was passion and excitement in his voice, and he lost the shyness he'd first displayed when the Potters entered the room. Just the mention of Hogwarts can do that to anyone, James thought nostalgically. "I'd like to be a professor when I grow up. I want to teach history."

"You want to replace old Binns, I suppose?" Sirius laughed as he joined the conversation. "You must have heard about him from your dad. Good luck getting him out of the position!"

"Well, from what Dad says, anyone could be better than Binns," Sam said, chuckling. His laugh had the same cadence in it as his father's did, and James felt his heart skip a beat just at the sound of it.

"Very true. That's an extremely low bar, Sirius," said Remus as he smiled at the group as well. "I'm sure you want to be a TRILLION times better than him."

"If he only knew how much he's talked about," said Lily as she tried to convince Harry to settle down again.

"So what have you done for your birthday so far?" asked Dorcas Meadows, who had her arm around Fabian Prewett. The two of them had been engaged for about a year, and were getting married at the beginning of August.

"Dad made me breakfast this morning," smiled Sam. "Eggs, bacon, sausages, hash browns, baked beans, and toast. He insisted on doing it the Muggle way. Says it always tastes better, and I agree."

"He always says that whenever he makes dinner for us, too," said Alice Longbottom, whose son, Neville, was in her arms. "That breakfast sounds delicious."

"It was wonderful," said Sam with feeling. "Then, we kicked a ball around the garden for a while, even though I'm no good at it."

"Nonsense, Samuel," Benjy said in a mock stern tone, walking into the room right at that moment. "Just because you're not as good as your old dad doesn't mean you're anything close to terrible."

Sam stuck his tongue out at Benjy. "Stop calling me Samuel," he whined, making Benjy laugh. "And where's my French toast pizza?"

"Well, if you'd have a bit of patience, young man ..." Their banter somehow made everything in the room seem brighter. James felt some of his old zest for life surface - something he hadn't felt in a long, long time. Was it just him, or did everyone else feel as though they were suddenly years younger, too?

"Patience?" Sam mock-glared at his father as Benjy pretended to storm out of the room. "You know I don't possess any of that. Now hurry up." He picked up a balloon and threw it at Benjy, unable to stop the laughter bubbling out of him.

"You've got good aim, son," Benjy said, almost doubling over with laughter himself. "At least you're better at throwing balloons at me than footballs. The nerve!" he chortled as he disappeared, whistling like a bird, into the kitchen to make French toast pizza.

And so, the party was in full swing. For one beautiful moment, the war didn't exist at all. Voldemort and the Death Eaters didn't exist at all. It was a simple, joyous birthday party of an eleven-year-old boy, who dreamed of being a history professor at Hogwarts when he grew up. A bright-eyed child, with his entire life ahead of him, with a father who loved him more than the whole world. It was plain to see that Sam, in turn, thought the sun and moon revolved around his dad as he spoke of how he'd spent the afternoon at a Muggle arcade, with Benjy letting him play all the games he wanted. There were stars in his eyes as he spoke, and James looked at Lily, who was holding Harry. He wanted to have that kind of relationship with his son as he grew older - he wanted to have balloons thrown at him, he wanted to tease him about his talent, or lack of, in sports. He was fascinated to know what activities Harry would like and which ones he wouldn't like. He wanted to know how Harry's laugh would resonate through a room, and whether it would sound like his own. Would he be a troublemaker like him, or a well-behaved and studious student like Lily? Would he be good at Charms, Transfiguration, both, or neither? If he played Quidditch, what position would he play?

Sirius was currently asking Sam about Quidditch as James tuned back into the conversation. "No," Sam was saying. "I'm really looking forward to going to a match when I get to Hogwarts, but I've never been interested in playing."

"WHAT?" Sirius exclaimed, acting like it was a great personal insult that Sam had turned down playing Quidditch, of all things. James snickered at the look on Sirius's face, although he honestly couldn't imagine not wanting to play, either.

"Give it a rest, Padfoot," Lily chastised lightly. "If Sam doesn't want to play Quidditch, then he doesn't have to. Right, Sam?"

The boy looked embarrassed. "Er ..." he said, looking back and forth between them.

Sirius laughed. "Sorry, mate," he said, grinning at him. "I was only joking. In any case, watching a match will be amazing."

Sam smiled back at him. "I know."

"It's time for Benjy Fenwick's life-changing, mind-bending, soul-saving, FRENCH TOAST PIZZA!" Benjy shouted, an enormous, goofy smile splitting his face. "If you don't get in the dining room this instant, you won't have any at all! That includes you, son," he boomed as he walked over and ruffled Sam's hair.

And no one ran into the dining room quicker than the birthday boy himself. The others all laughed as they followed in after him. The French toast pizza was simply ordinary cheese pizza, with a mound of French toast directly on top of it.

"Did anyone ever tell you that your dad has the biggest ego in the whole world?" Marlene joked as they all found seats at the table.

"People tell me that all the time, and I know it's true," Sam grinned back. Throughout the evening, the shy demeanor he'd had at the beginning had faded into nothing as he'd grown more comfortable with everyone at the party. Still smiling, he said quietly, "When I grow up, I want to be just like him."

James felt his heart fill with emotion at the simple, beautiful words. He could tell that Sam really meant what he had said. It was obvious that the father-son bond was extremely strong, and very, very special. He once again looked at his little boy, Harry, hoping that one day, he'd hear the same things from him.

He chased away any dark thoughts of the war, of the prophecy, of Harry's fate. In this atmosphere, with all the people he cared about, celebrating one of the many milestones of Sam Fenwick, he found it much easier to do. What was it about the Fenwicks that was so inspiring? How did they manage to be the torches that shone in the darkness, leading the way for so many?

He hadn't heard so much laughter at a dinner table for a long, long time. Not since he'd attended Hogwarts - not since his fifth year, when he was still so young and had no real idea of what his future would hold. Everyone exclaimed over the ingenuity of French toast pizza, which only made Benjy smile and make comments about how he was so good at everything. This led to him being teased mercilessly about his ego, with Sam doing the majority of it.

After the French toast pizza, there was an enormous chocolate birthday cake. Everyone sang happy birthday, and Sam blushed and smiled the entire time. Afterwards, he blew out the candles on his cake, and everyone cheered.

After the cake had been served, Benjy stood up. "Speech! Speech!" Sirius shouted, making everyone laugh again.

Once the room was quiet, Benjy spoke. "Thank you all so much for coming," he said, looking around at everyone. "It is so wonderful to be able to celebrate my boy's eleventh birthday with all of you. This is a very important year for him, because in September, he will go on his very first journey to Hogwarts."

James could see that Benjy was fit to bursting with love and pride, and it made his throat choke up. Oh, he wanted so badly to be making a speech like this when Harry turned eleven. Looking at Benjy and his bright smile, his hope, his optimism, his burning conviction that there would be a better tomorrow, he couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, such a thing was possible after all.

"When times are hard, let us all remember moments like this," Benjy was continuing, never taking his eyes off his son. "Nothing is more important than staying positive. If we don't remember the feeling of joy or the sound of laughter, then we lose our humanity." He looked meaningfully at everyone, and his face was serious now, needing them all to understand the truth of his words. He turned to Sam again, once more only having eyes for him. "Happy birthday, Sam," he said softly.

Sam looked back at his dad, his own eyes saying more than words ever could. There was applause from the entire room, and Benjy sat back down. Everyone started eating their cake, all exclaiming about how wonderful it tasted.

Afterwards, they all moved back into the living room for presents. Sam received clothes, games, junk food (which prompted jokes from Benjy about how much Sam was allowed to eat and how much should be given to his old dad, to which Sam responded cheekily, "But I thought you were dieting?") and, to the boy's excitement, several books on wizarding history, including the one from Lily and James.

But then, like a storm cloud over a tranquil forest, all levity disappeared when Albus Dumbledore entered the room. James had barely noticed that he hadn't been at the party, and honestly, none of the others had said much about it, either. No one wanted to think about the war tonight, and recently, any appearance by Albus, even if it was for an Order meeting, brought a sense of wariness and fear to the scene.

And this time ... this time, when he walked in, he seemed as though he held the weight of the world on his shoulders. The entire room went silent at his entrance.

After a few seconds of unbearable tension, Frank Longbottom spoke. "What is it, Albus?" he asked, barely disguising the fear in his voice.

"I am very sorry, Sam," Dumbledore said, looking at the young boy who sat with his pile of presents beside him.

"It's all right, Professor," Sam said quietly. "I know that the Death Eaters don't care about whose birthday it is."

There was no bitterness in the child's tone, only the wisdom of a young boy who knew more than anyone thought he did. He didn't whine about how unfair it was that his party had to be interrupted. He didn't lament the fact that he hadn't even opened all his presents yet. There was raw emotion on his face, but he didn't cry when Benjy pulled him into a tight embrace, promising him he'd be careful - Benjy had the same heartbreaking look on his own face, and James knew that though both father and son were being amazingly brave and strong, they were wondering when, or if, they would see each other again. Sam didn't complain as he went through the fireplace to his grandparents' house, knowing he would stay there until he received word about whether his father had made it through the battle. With the maturity of someone much older, he thanked everyone for coming to his party and told them all to be safe, to watch out for one another. Then, with a whoosh of green flames, he was gone.

James felt sick to his stomach as his whole world seemed to speed up, and the familiar feelings of anger, helplessness, and sadness took over. "Winnie! Ravvy!" he called.

In an instant, his two house-elves appeared. "Master James?" Winnie asked, instantly seeing the look on his face. "Is there being another battle, Master James?"

"Yes," James said without preamble. "You and Ravvy need to take Harry and Neville to Godric's Hollow and look after them until all this is over. If we don't ..." His voice cracked, and he felt Lily squeeze his hand. "If we don't come back, someone will let you know." He was very grateful he'd told Albus about the elves, and the Order leader had told the other members plus some of the Hogwarts staff, in case the worst occurred. Winnie and Ravvy would need to know if something was to happen to the Potters.

Facing the heartbreak of leaving Harry behind, and realizing that Benjy was doing the same with Sam, and on his eleventh birthday, of all things - was almost too much to take. And the fact that Sam was so understanding, so mature, so accepting of it all ... that made it, somehow, even worse. No child should have to accept that their birthday party could be interrupted by a battle. No child should have to accept that whenever their parent left the house, it may very well be for the last time.

"Yes, Master James," Ravvy said at once. With his elf magic, he gently Levitated Harry out of Lily's arms while Winnie did the same with Neville, who had been in Alice's. James had barely any time to memorize his son's face before both elves, along with both babies, were gone.

"Albus?" asked Benjy, his face holding that same look James always saw whenever he went into battle. It was intent, purposeful; he wore the face of a man who still had so much passion for what he was fighting for. James wished for the thousandth time that his own face still looked like that. "Where are we going?"

And Dumbledore's answer shocked James to his core - he felt his heart plummet down to his stomach. Not there. Not there. Anywhere but there. This was the place that was supposed to be safe, a place that was sacred to the wizarding world, a place which no dark wizard had dared to attack in two hundred years - not even Grindelwald had touched it.

But of course, Voldemort had to do this, didn't he? He never left well enough alone. He had to break every barrier, destroy any sacred place. Because after all, this place was as sacred as Hogwarts itself.

"Good luck, everyone," the old man said quietly, his eyes holding no hint of a twinkle. "Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters are attacking the Ministry of Magic."