James was working in the kitchen when he heard a sudden smash, followed by an exclaimed "shit!" from Lily and a laugh from Harry.

"What was that?" he called, hurrying into the living room to see. Harry was zipping around on the toy broomstick Sirius had given him, turning to face his father with a half-toothless smile; Lily caught him in midair before he could collide with the wall. She was standing over the shattered remains of a salmon-colored vase that James knew all too well.

"Isn't that the vase your sister gave you?"

"The very same," Lily replied, setting Harry down on the floor. He hugged her leg, babbling as he begged for her to return his broom, but she held it firmly away from him. "It wouldn't take more than a simple Reparo to fix it, but honestly, I'd been looking for an excuse to get rid of that thing for a while." She swept the shards underneath the coffee table. "Poor Charlie, though—he's scared her half to death." James turned at Lily's gesture to find their cat cowering in the corner of the room.

"He's practicing for his Quidditch days," James said, grinning. "He's already shaping up to be quite the little flyer." He knelt down and swept Harry up into his arms, giving the boy a playful poke on the nose. "You ready to see your birthday cake, Harry?" Harry attempted to chomp down on his finger in response, but James pulled his hand away just in time. "I've nearly finished it. Let's go check it out, okay?"

Lily locked the broomstick away before following James and Harry into the kitchen, where James conjured a glowing blue candle and set it in the middle of the little cake he'd put together. He levitated the cake over to the kitchen table and found Lily standing frozen there, her eyes fixed on a familiar face headlining the most recent copy of the Daily Prophet.

"I shouldn't have left that lying out," James murmured, placing Harry in his highchair and snatching the paper away. "I know we were trying to keep things happy today."

"It's just so hard," Lily said quietly. "I still can't believe it…Marlene, and her parents and her brother…they killed all of them. Like they were nothing." She bit her lip. "And here we are, locked up safely while our friends risk their lives every day—"

"Stop it," James interrupted. He understood her frustration better than anyone; there were so many nights when he'd lain awake thinking about what his friends were doing, wondering if he could sneak away to help…but Lily and Harry had always been enough to hold him back. He couldn't leave them, no matter how much he loathed being stuck in Godric's Hollow in the middle of a war he was meant to be fighting. "Let's just focus on Harry. Bathilda's going to be here for tea soon—and you only turn one once, right?"

"Right," Lily sighed, turning to her son. "Sorry, I know." She forced a smile onto her face and ruffled Harry's hair. "You ready for your cake, baby boy?" Harry smiled back at her and babbled incoherently.

James lit the candle with the tip of his wand and slid the cake over to Harry, who stared into the tiny flame with the rapt fascination he seemed to have for nearly everything. "Blow it out, Harry," Lily said, puffing out her cheeks to show him how. Harry mimicked her, blowing air into her face instead of towards the candle, so James took it upon himself to extinguish it instead.

"All right," Lily exclaimed, clapping as the flame went up in smoke—Harry laughed and clapped with her. "Happy birthday, Harry!"

James smiled while he watched his son, so happy and oblivious to all the horrible things going on around him. He still couldn't believe there was a prophecy proclaiming that Harry might be the only person capable of defeating Voldemort—his Harry, the tiny boy bouncing up and down excitedly at the prospect of getting to try a tiny bit of cake. It all sounded absurd.

But James knew one thing for sure: Harry wasn't going to be defeating the Dark Lord anytime in the near future. He prayed that Dumbledore would come up with a better solution for his family soon, because if they had to stay locked up in this cottage, he wasn't sure any of them would still be sane by the time Harry's second birthday came around.