What really happened the night James and Lilly Potter died
The sky was dark and all the houses (no doubt belonging to muggles) around him were decorated with pumpkins. He'd nearly forgotten it was Halloween today. Peter Pettigrew drew the hood over his head. It had started to drizzle. He wore dark robes that went down past his ankles and trailed on the floor- he'd borrowed (with borrowed he meant taken) them from his father. Even though he looked dark and shadowlike, inside he was bursting with excitement; he couldn't wait to see Lilly and James' faces! He was their secret keeper, the only one who could find them in their house- that is unless he told someone else. And he was going to play the best ever Halloween prank on them!
He was nearly there now, only 2 doors down his destination. Suddenly, he stumbled. As he pulled himself off the floor, he looked to see what had made him trip. But that didn't matter now. The wand he held in his right hand- his wand, was snapped clean in two and was only held together by the dragon heartstring inside. He could've kicked himself. He couldn't do anything without his wand!
As he put the wand in his pocket, he was amazed to feel another wand in against the back of his hand! How had it got there? He couldn't remember. His mother had always said his memory was like the memory of a gnome. He would just have to use the other wand instead. It shouldn't make a difference.