The Final Goodbye

The Final Goodbye-Chapter One: To Reverse A Mistake

There had been a hoard of children running up and down the stairs of Peter Pettigrew's apartment complex all night long. The thumps were so loud that some of Peter's furniture even started to shake. It was Halloween, after all, so that kind of behavior was to be expected, but Peter was not one for rowdiness and noises, even though he had caused a lot of it back in his Hogwarts days.

I just can't wait until this stupid holiday is over with, he thought. It's not even that great.

He leaned back, exhausted, in his red armchair that perched in the living room of his small apartment. Altogether, the apartment had one bedroom, one bathroom, one table, two wooden chairs, a small sofa, and the armchair in which Peter was sitting. There would have probably been more furniture if Peter's mother had wanted to spend the extra five hundred galleons, as Peter did not have a job of his own at the moment.

Well, at least not a job that he got money for. He had a job, all right, but it was definitely not one that people would draw attention to. Peter Pettigrew was a double agent, pretending to work as a member of the Order of the Phoenix for Albus Dumbledore, but in truth working as a Death Eater for the Wizarding world's most feared Dark wizard, Lord Voldemort. Not many people, including Peter and anyone he knew (at least to his knowledge), knew Voldemort's real name or who he really was or had been.

Peter sank down in his armchair and closed his eyes, thinking about what had gone on earlier that day. He remembered Voldemort's irritating high-pitched voice as he told Peter, "I will get rid of the Potters tonight," after Peter had given him the final information that the Dark Lord needed.

He didn't quite understand why, but for some reason, Peter found Voldemort's plan quite disturbing. Of course he had known Voldemort's plan all along, but now, his actually carrying it out made Peter nervous, not to mention a bit guilty.

Voldemort's plan was to kill James and Lily Potter, along with their son Harry, who was the subject of a prophecy, which reportedly had declared that Harry would be the one to vanquish Voldemort.

Peter had been the one to give the Potters' whereabouts away to Voldemort. After taking the job as their Secret-Keeper, Peter had been promised by Voldemort great power if he were to give information. So, Peter had agreed, thinking it a good idea at the time.

Now, however, he was starting to feel cold and empty inside. It had puzzled him all day as to why.

Then, as he listened to the sound of the happy children running up and down the stairs without a care in the world, Peter realized exactly why he felt guilty.

James Potter had been his best friend at Hogwarts. Unlike the rest of the students, who had always pictured Peter as a klutz and a fool, James had always been there for him.

%^%^

Peter's worst memory was in his very first year as a student. It was, in fact, moments after all the students had arrived on the Hogwarts Express, which was going to transport all the students to Hogwarts. A pair of older Slytherin boys chased Peter down the train's walkway, calling him a fat pig and making fun of his wheat-colored hair. In all seriousness, Peter thought of himself as a fat pig because of his large size. His Healer had actually been nagging him about losing weight for years. But, those boys were making it a whole lot worse.

Peter threw open a compartment door, hoping to find a place to hide from the boys, when he found two boys his own age already in the compartment. They both had black hair, although one wore glasses and his hair stuck up in all different directions, while the other's hair was smooth and flat.

No sooner had Peter found his way into the compartment, even before he had time to exchange a word with the other boys who were already inside, the two Slytherins barged in.

"Trying to hide from us, pig?" one of the boys, a tall blond with a prefect's badge glistening on his uniform, sneered. How ironic was it for this boy to be a prefect? Peter had thought. They were supposed to help the younger students, not torture the living day lights out of them.

"Don't call him a pig!"

Peter turned around to see that the boy with glasses had stood up and looked as though he was prepared to punch the blond Slytherin clear between his cold gray eyes.

That is, in fact, what he did. In two seconds, he, along with the other boy, had tackled the two Slytherins to the ground.

The Slytherins were some of the most cowardly boys Peter had ever met, because as soon as they had been knocked to the ground, they scampered out of the compartment.

"Chickens!" the boy with glasses had shouted. "They're too scared to fight because they're afraid they'll get expelled. I know that's what it is."

"Are you okay?" the smooth haired boy had asked Peter.

"Yeah. Thanks," Peter almost stuttered, very embarrassed to have caused all of that commotion.

"They won't bother you anymore." The boy with glasses had smiled. "I'm James. James Potter." He held out his pale thin hand for Peter to shake.

Peter had felt so welcomed by both the boys. No one had ever shown him that much kindness as to defend him from bullies. From that day forward, the two of them had been Peter's best friends, especially James Potter.

%^%^

With that sudden flash of memory, reality had just set in Peter's brain, along with more guilt and shame. There was no way that he could let James and his family die after all James had done for him. There was just no way. He had to be brave. For once in his life, he had to be brave and repay James for all his love and help.

But, there was only one thing Peter could do to stop Voldemort from reaching his goal. Quickly, he sprung up from his armchair and sprinted towards his fireplace. Taking some powder from the jar near the poker, Peter threw it into the fire and shouted, "One twenty-seven, Benson Street, Godric's Hollow!"

%^%^

"Can you count the bubbles, Harry?" James Potter asked his fifteen-month-old son playfully, knowing full well that he wouldn't be able to.

James had been blowing smoke bubbles out of his wand for about ten minutes for his son's enjoyment. The little boy just loved to watch as the colorful puffs came out and disappeared. In between thumb sucks, he giggled happily in his faded blue pajamas.

The door to the parlor opened and in walked James' wife, Lily. Her long dark red hair was framing her face, making it look like a lion's mane.

"Laundry's done," she announced cheerfully, seemingly glad to be done with all the domestic work for the day.

"And Harry seems to be very tired," James replied, noticing the big yawn that his son had just done. He picked the boy up and placed him in Lily's arms.

Lily kissed her husband lightly on the mouth. "You look tired, too," she remarked, grinning.

"I am." James tossed his wand on the couch near him and let out a yawn as big as his son's. He felt more exhausted than he had in days.

"Then, maybe we should all--"

Lily did not have time to finish her sentence, as a loud thump could be heard throughout the small cottage. James' heart stopped and his legs began to shake, as did all the furniture in the house.

Lily looked at James, horrified. "What was that?" She looked just as panicky as James felt and held their son closer.

"I-I don't know." James quickly grabbed his wand from the couch and wrapped his arm around Lily and Harry, afraid to leave the room. Both adults stared at the closed parlor door. James could feel the sweat seeping through his palms.

"JAMES! LILY!" a voice roared from somewhere in the living room. "WHERE ARE YOU?"

James took a deep sigh of relief when he recognized the voice as Peter Pettigrew's.

He and Lily looked at each other, perplexed, for a moment, before running out of the room to see what all the commotion was about.

"Peter?" James shouted as he and Lily reached the living room, noticing at once that his friend was covered in soot from the fireplace. "What are you doing here?"

"You've got to run, James." Peter's breathing was fast and his voice was full of panic. He grabbed hold of James' robes and shook them. "You've got to run! He's coming!"

"What?" Lily asked from next to James, still holding Harry securely in her arms. "What do you mean 'he's coming'? He can't see us."

"Yes he can, Lily!" Peter squealed, tears now streaming down his face. His whole body was trembling. "I TOLD HIM!"

Peter fell on the floor and kicked his feet, as if he were a five-year-old baby having a tantrum after having been refused a candy bar by his mother. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm so so sorry," he sobbed uncontrollably.

Then, without warning, the unthinkable happened. The sound of the front door being blasted off its hinges flooded the ears of the four people in the house, including Harry, who let out a loud wail in protest.

Peter scrambled to his feet and yanked his wand from the pocket of his ash-covered robes.

"I can't let him do this," he muttered, his face plastered with the most determined, the most brave look James had ever seen upon it.

"Well, well, well," a cold voice sneered. Standing in front of the four of them, red-eyed and white-skinned, was Lord Voldemort himself with a wicked grin upon his face. "A beautiful couple, a little baby, and my faithful servant, Wormtail. Have you come to help me finish them off?"

Voldemort addressed this last sentence to Peter, but the latter stared at the former defiantly. James and Lily put their arms around each other and Harry.

"I have not come to help you." Peter's stare was now menacing. "I have to come to stop you."

Voldemort's devilish eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, really?" he asked mockingly, twirling his wand in his hand. "No one has ever challenged Lord Voldemort before."

"I just did!" Peter shouted. "James and Lily have done far too much for me to die! I made a mistake and I'm going to correct it!"

Voldemort let out a high-pitched cackle that sent a chill down James' spine. "We'll see," he replied in the same cruel, mocking voice.

Then, as sudden as a bolt of lightening, two voices cried out at once, "Avada Kedavra!"

Two jets of green light erupted from two separate wands, one from Peter's and the other from Voldemort's. As the two lights emerged, they bent backward, straight into the faces of their castors, who flew backward in opposite directions.

Peter's body hit a yellow-shaded lamp in the corner of the room, while Voldemort's barely missed the living room window and instead collided with the coffee table.

James and Lily rushed to Peter, both shouting his name. James grabbed Peter's hand to check for a pulse, but there was nothing.

Tears began flowing from James' eyes. His best friend was dead, and he had sacrificed himself because he had wanted to redeem himself, to reverse his mistake.

And neither James nor Lily would ever forget it.

A/N: I hope you guys liked this chapter. Sorry, but I'm not too good at endings. Please forgive me and don't let it ruin your reading the rest. The title of the story will play out later in the story. Please remember to review. I'll try to update as soon as I can. Thanks, ~~Juli