Dora Potter stood, looking into Fawkes the Phoenix's beady black eyes as he blinked morosely. He was near to burning, half ashen already, the tips of his feathers singed and drooping. She reached up a gentle hand and clucked her tongue, and smiled when the phoenix lowered his magnificent head to coddle against her bent fingers.

"You have a trustworthy touch," Dumbledore's voice was low and gentle as he appeared at Dora's side. "Fawkes trusts very few." He watched as the bird slowly blinked at Mrs. Potter.

There came a knock upon the door.

"Do come in," Dumbledore called.

The door opened and in came James Potter and Minerva McGonagall nodded her greeting to Dora and Charlus with a smile and a wink from the landing before closing the door behind their son and descending the stairs herself.

"Ah if it isn't the young birthday boy himself!" Dumbledore said with a smile as Mrs. Potter withdrew her fingers from Fawkes to hurry over and hug her son. She pressed her lips to James's cheek and he tried not to look annoyed by the slobbering.

Mr. Potter walked over joyfully, though slowly. "Happy Birthday, Jamsie!" he chirped, but James looked in concern at how his father seemed to shuffle more than walk and his eyes met Charlus's squarely.

"What's the matter with your leg?" he asked.

"Oh nothing of concern for you, son," Charlus replied, "Just a bit of old age, I'm afraid. We're all inclined toward it, eventually."

"Unless one is to go the ways of Nicholas Flamel, I am afraid that is true," Dumbledore intoned.

"And goodness knows not all of us are interested in sticking around - what, over 600 years by now, I imagine?"

"Nearly 650, I believe," Dumbledore answered.

Dora shook her head. "Can you even imagine - over 650 birthday parties!"

James guffawed, "Sounds brilliant, though I rather thing they must have run out of unique themes for them by now." He smirked and everyone chuckled. But James did keep a close eye on Charlus's leg, regardless of what Mr. Potter claimed was not any of his concern.

"Speaking of birthday parties, I do hope you've a spiffing one planned?" Mr. Potter asked.

James said, "Oh I'm sure the lads have something up their sleeves. Reckon I'll find out when I get back from visiting you lot. Sirius has been dodgy about plans for this evening all day."

Charlus smirked, "Well perhaps you'll be in need of a time piece to keep track of when the evening comes?"

James's eyes lit up. "Perhaps I might," he replied. He felt his heart rate pick up a bit. He had dreamed of this moment for many, many years and now - here it was. He was officially coming of age.

Charlus smiled and Dora did, too, and even Dumbledore, who settled himself behind his desk to observe. Charlus reached into his coat pocket and James started to conjure all the imaginings of his entire life for what sort of watch his parents would have gotten him. He had pictured great golden things with shiny faces and Roman numeral numbers. He'd pictured silver instruments with tiny planets, like Dumbledore's watch, and fine leather straps... But what Charlus pulled from his coat pocket was...

"But it has Mickey Mouse on it?" James asked, looking up from the watch face in confusion.

Charlus nodded, smiling, as did Dora.

James blinked. "But - I don't understand?"

"It's a - an old, family heirloom," Charlus said, his voice cheerful.

James looked at the watch, then up at his parents again. Was it a joke? Was this some sort of prank? Perhaps Sirius had put them up to it, he thought, perhaps Charlus himself had come up with the joke. Give him a silly old watch and let him really sweat it out, see how long it takes him to call us out! It'll be a marvelous laugh, Dora, dear! He could almost hear his father saying the words. Of course, in no world could he imagine his mum going along with it... and she seemed just as thrilled as he did, giving it to him, and James felt a bit of a twist in his belly.

Disappointment, he thought.

But they looked so bloody pleased, they did, that he couldn't very well let them down, could he? And so James took a very deep breath and he said, shakily, "Whoa its brilliant! I - I love it!" and his mouth split into a wide grin as he lied through his teeth.

Charlus beamed radiantly. "Happy Birthday, Jamesie!"

"I can't believe you're seventeen already!" Dora added, dabbing her eyes, "I remember you were just a tiny little thing, brand new and everything!"

"Happiest day of my life!" Charlus added, "And luckiest too. The number of times you've saved us both are too much to count. We are so very proud of you, James." His voice was suddenly heavy with sincerity. "We could not have asked the gods for a better son than you." He stared into James's eyes and laid a palm on his shoulder.

"Absolutely," Dora choked, all teared up. "You are the very best, most generous, fantastic boy!"

James smiled, unsure what to say, still in shock by the basic leather band and the cartoon mouse, whose arms rotated about the numbers...

"Well go on! Try it on!" Charlus encouraged eagerly.

James nodded and put the watch on, biting his lip as he buckled the leather strap.

"Oh it's spiffing!" Charlus declared happily, "Positively spiffing. Have a look," he said and he took James's wrist up to show Dora and Dumbledore as well. "How do you like it, Jamesie? Is it as good as you always imagined?"

James wondered if they were seeing the same watch.

"Even better!" he lied, and he smiled as Charlus released his wrist, wondering what he was going to tell Sirius, Remus, and Peter, and if they could ever believe him if he said his father had forgotten the watch at home and simply user his pocket money to order a nicer, less mousified watch that wouldn't be quite so embarrassing.

Sirius, Remus, and Lily were waiting in the hallway by the stone gargoyles. When James came out of Dumbledore's office, it was to find the lot of them, waiting for him. He flushed brightly and drove his hand behind his back, having not had the time yet to take off the Mickey watch. He loosed the leather strap hurriedly.

"Let us see!" Sirius cried, "What did mum and dad get you?" They all looked quite eager to see.

"Its - not here yet," James lied. The watch fell into his palm and he shoved it into his jumped pocket. "It'll come. Soon. By owl."

"By owl!" Sirius's face was surprised, "Really? Dad's alright with you getting it by owl? Blimey! Why wouldn't they just pop back over again when it comes?"

"Yeah," Remus said, looking concerned, "Don't they want to present it to you properly?"

Lily was studying James carefully.

James shrugged, "He said what he had to just now."

Remus and Sirius exchanged glances.

"It's alright," James said quickly. Then, wanting very much to switch topics, he looked at Lily Evans, "What are you doing here?" Lily flushed, but before she could reply, he turned then to Remus and Sirius, "And where is Peter?"

"He isn't coming," Sirius said firmly, snapping out of the concerned expression quickly.

"Coming where?" James asked.

"Your birthday party, of course!" Sirius said, flinging his arm about James's shoulder and pulling him off down the hallway, eager now to change the subject too. "Come along, you lot! Adventure awaits!"

Upstairs, Mr. and Mrs. Potter stared after James, even after the door closed, until they were certain that he would be far enough away not to over hear them.

"He looked disappointed," Charlus said. He turned around, a frown on his face. "I bloody hate we had to do that to him."

Dora's palm touched Charlus's shoulder.

"I mean he took it well," Charlus said, but his voice was heavy with regret. "Just — of all the bloody watches in the world, of all the designs — it had to be a cartoon mouse?"

Dumbledore stood up, "Time is funny that way, I suppose. But you've done the right thing, I assure you. One day, a life will be saved for what you've done today, and it is very important that it is. You may not understand right now, and nor does James. But one day perhaps we will."

Mr. Potter nodded.

"And you're certain," Dora asked, "That the information you obtained... that... that it's true? And correct?"

Dumbledore nodded, "Absolutely."

The rest of the afternoon, James couldn't stop thinking of the watch and the mixed emotions that came with it. He could feel it in his pocket, heavy, reminding him it was there. It wasn't bloody fair, he thought, seeing Sirius check the time on the pocket watch he kept chained to his vest now, ever since Charlus and Dora had given it to him. His very own parents had given Sirius a nicer watch than they'd given him — their actual son!

James felt rather sour and had to keep himself in check for it so that he didn't take it out on Sirius.

It was just his luck, though, wasn't it? Getting this rubbish watch. If something rubbish was going to happen, of course it would happen to him! Why on earth not? Being disappointed and overlooked were the two things he was absolutely becoming the best at in life, weren't they? If anyone was to be gypped this way, of course it would be him. And why not? He was used to it. Or at least he should be by now.

Even watching Doctor Who did little to improve his mood. He was aware that his attitude was letting the others down, that he was basically sabotaging his own birthday party, but he couldn't improve it just on a whim, however badly he wanted to. He wanted to feel carefree and happy, but he didn't. It was simple as that. He understood for the first time really what Sirius meant when he spoke about feeling as though there was a dementor inside of him. He felt that now, too, James did, and he was very much afraid that the dementor was actually Voldemort.

When Doctor Who was over, the lot of them sat about and Sirius cracked jokes and they talked and James tried to ignore the punch-gut feeling he got every word that Lily Evans spoke and to laugh with Sirius and Remus and to act quite normal even as he sat, falling apart.

Back at Grimmauld Place, Walburga Black was coughing. She'd stirred up a bit of dust in her library. "Kreacher!" she bellowed, "Kreacher! Oh where is that blasted, foul little elf?" She had been searching for an answer to a question, desperately going through library books, and one of them had been quite full of doxy eggs and she had dropped it, disturbing some other dust that had flown into her nose and she felt wholly dizzy. Grabbing onto the Black family tapestry, she gasped for breath, her throat feeling as though it were closing up. "Kreature!" she gargled the word, and fell to the floor.