"Saying Goodbye"
She looked out the window, at the wheeling, floating, falling leaves of autumn. They did cartwheels, carving patterns into the air as they fell. Brown, red, orange, yellow, they caught the light of the golden sun as they fell. A burbling little black-haired boy tottered around beneath the tree, trying to catch them, but always just a little slow. His daddy sat under the tree too, on a blanket. They looked so much alike – everyone agreed. They both had that horribly unruly and untamable jet-black hair, and a wide, easy-going smile. Even their noses and hands seemed to be alike. Everything about them was similar, except for one thing. Those green eyes. Those, she thought proudly, were hers.
She went out to join them, picking up the sweater she had tossed on a chair, and putting it on as she ran downstairs. It had been a little chilly lately. When he saw her approach, he shifted over slightly on the blanket, making room for her. She sat down, he put his arm around her shoulders, and they leaned back, feeling the rough bark through their clothes. "Come here, my boy. Come to mummy!" she said. The little boy gave that smile, that smile that says "Mum! It's you!" Nobody could see him flash that smile and not return it. The just-learning-to-walk almost-15-month-old tottered over, falling once, but regaining his balance quickly. At the end of his walk, he collapsed into her arms, still smiling. Gently, she turned him around and set him down so that he was sitting on her lap. And the world was perfect, if only for a little while.
Through the steady hail of leaves, a figure approached, someone short and dark haired. The man under the tree got up to greet him, raising his wife up too.
"Peter," he called. It was Peter Pettigrew, a man shorter than Lily with slightly musty looking hair. He could transform into a rat at will, and he had some rat-like characteristics. Now, he was chewing his fingernails like a rat eats a morsel of food. Peter was the tag-along of James's group, not really good at anything. Some might say he was there as the entertainment of the group, but Lily always treated him kindly, and, as James had matured, so had he.
"James! Lily! And young Harry!" Peter scooped the little boy up from the ground, and Harry started to cry.
"Oh, dear, shhh! Let's be quiet now, and hear what Uncle Peter has to say." Lily took Harry out of Peter's arms and began to rock him, though he was far too old to be affected by such a thing as rocking.
"I rang the doorbell, but nobody answered. I knew that you would be home, so I figured you must be out in the fresh air somewhere," Peter said.
"You figured right. It's Harry's first true fall, since he was only three months old last year, so we brought him outside to see the leaves falling," replied James.
"Such a handsome little boy. Just like his father," Peter crooned, stroking Harry's cheek. Harry shifted his head and bit Peter's finger hard.
"No! Naughty Harry!" Lily sat him down, on the ground by her feet. "What is it, Peter?"
"Sirius feels…he feels that he's too well known as your best friend. He wants to switch…the Secret-Keeper," Peter said hesitantly.
"To who?" James asked, now slightly suspicious. He looked at Peter as if he were searching for some trace of a lie in Peter's eyes.
"To me, James. Nobody would think of tag-along Peter as your Secret-Keeper, eh?" he replied, a little too confidently.
"Peter, do you…are you strong enough for this? I mean, Dumbledore himself wanted to be our Secret-Keeper. When our good buddy Tom comes swooping down…could you fend him off?" James was looking worried now, to Lily at least.
"Do you doubt my magical ability, James?" Peter looked angry that James had not seen his logic instantaneously. Honestly, thought Lily, the man has no finesse.
"James just wants to make sure you'll be safe, Peter. You don't have to get tangled up in this. And the fewer people who know where we really are, the better," Lily said quickly. Anything not to get Peter mad.
"Lily, James, I'm a big boy. I know how to use a wand," Peter said testily.
"So you definitely want to do this?" James asked carefully. "Even though you understand the high risk that this involves?"
"Yes. You know, the sooner, the better. Any moment, his Lordship could be hunting Sirius down. Because of his brother Regulus-" Peter broke off.
"Alright, as long as Dumbledore authorizes it," James said.
"Don't worry. I've already been to see him," Peter said, a little too quickly.
"As long as he gives the o.k." James agreed. "Why don't we go inside, where it'll be more private and the spell will be easier to perform." Peter agreed, and they headed inside, leaving Lily to gather the leaf-strewn blanket and Harry.
Lily came inside just in time to see Peter swallowing an amber-gold spark. The ember glowed with its magical presence, illuminating the room. And then as quickly as it had appeared it was snuffed out. It was done. Their lives were in Peter's hands now. If it had to be anyone, she would have preferred it to be Dumbledore. There was something…off…about Peter today. She prayed James knew what he was doing.
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She sat on the green couch in the front room while the sky outside steadily darkened to a velvety blue-black scattered with winking stars. She gnawed on her thumbnail while she thought. What did Peter mean? Sure, everyone knew that Sirius was the Potters' best friend, but wouldn't that mean, by double negative thinking, that He wouldn't think of Sirius as their Secret-Keeper? Oh, enough with double negative thinking. She hated it, because things always turned out the opposite of how you expected they would when you thought like that.
But why was Peter so eager? To do what? To prove himself worthy of being Secret-Keeper? To potentially get himself killed? Why? Not because he had self-esteem issues or wanted to feel superior, Lily was sure of that. There was something else behind it. So what had a wanted?
"I can't get in touch with Dumbledore." It was James. His comment left a sinking, empty, scared feeling in the pit of her stomach.
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Ding-Dong-A-Ling-A-Ling-Long. More ghoulish Muggle children. She despised them, especially her sister's lot. Nasty little creatures they were, ringing doorbells while babies tried to sleep. And darn it all if they didn't demand candy in return for their insolence. She opened the front door.
"Trick or treat!" Four bags were shoved under her nose.
"Trick," she replied, feeling mean.
"Miss, we don't have any tricks. You're just supposed to give us candy," one small boy piped up.
"You asked me whether I wanted a trick, or to give you candy. Truthfully, I don't want either. So clear off!" Oh, Lily felt her heart break as the look in their eyes. "Look, if I give you extra candy, will you tell all your little imitation-witch friends to stop ringing our doorbell? My baby is trying to sleep."
"Sure, miss." She didn't know why she did it. All their caring stopped at the extra candy. She had to tell James to stop it with the extras, they weren't working. Lily trudged back upstairs. Five…four…three…two…one. Ding-Dong-A-Ling-A-Ling-Long. And there goes the doorbell. She went into the master bedroom.
"Your turn. And stop it with the extra candy, it obviously doesn't work." She looked at the digital clock on the bedside table. The neon red momentarily fazed her, and she blinked. 10 o'clock. Wasn't there a legal limit on how late the little monsters could be out?
"IMPERVIOUS!" What was that? James couldn't have done something to an innocent Muggle child, could he? She instinctively grasped Harry closer to her. "Lily!" James stumbled into their bedroom. "Lily…it's Him."
"But…but, no! Peter…he couldn't," she stammered, sinking onto the bed. She knew who James meant. She began to cry tears of desperation, not for herself, but for Harry. She cradled him closer. Now, he would never grow up. Never speak, never make a friend, never play Quidditch, never go to Hogwarts. Never meet Dumbledore. Never love. She sobbed harder.
"Lily. Oh, Lily." James sank down next to her. "I made the whole house Imperturbable. I really don't know how that helps in the long run, but it was the only thing I could think to do at the moment. I would guess we have about five more minutes. Do you want to spend your last five minutes on Earth with me and Harry crying?" He brushed away her tears and smoothed her hair.
"N-n-no." He wrapped his arms around her and Harry.
"When our five minutes are up, I … I'm going to go down and face him. If he gets past me, then use whatever magic you've got. Do whatever you can to keep him from getting to Harry and yourself."
"James, I couldn't live without you."
"Do you want Harry to grow up?" She could only nod. "Then please, Lily, do this for me. And whatever you do, remember this: I love you and Harry more than life itself."
"I love you too much to let you face Him alone. James, you can't go down there alone. He'll kill you, and I'm not going to let that happen if we can avoid it."
"And if we go together, we won't die? Lily, this is the end. The least you can let me do is give you a head start, a little more time to protect yourself and Harry with."
"If I survived, and you didn't, how would I live with myself? I couldn't. Harry and I love you too much to let you sacrifice yourself."
"If you love me, you will." She laughed bitterly, half-heartedly.
"How silly is this?" she asked. "We're fighting in our last minutes on Earth? Alive and with each other and Harry?"
"You're right," he said. He lifted her chin and kissed her. Their tears started to fall and mingle together. Harry snuggled into her. And then the world seemed to stop, the stars turned to silver and fell out of their places in the night sky. Voldemort was no longer outside their house, and it was an autumn afternoon again. They drew apart just an inch, and everything came crashing back. "I have to go," he said. "Time is almost out for the Potters. But, Lily, time doesn't alter love. And whatever happens, I will always love you and Harry, forever, if the world stopped spinning. Goodbye, Lily." He kissed her once more, on the forehead. Harry waved his little hand, and James took it. "Goodbye, sport. I love you. Take care of Mummy for me."
He walked out of the room to face what was to come downstairs, walking tall and proud. It seemed so long ago, that day at Hogwarts in Fifth Year, when she had been furious with him…
"Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can – I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK."
Why hadn't she just admitted that she loved him from the first day of First Year? They could have had so much more time together, seven years more time. And all she could do now was regret.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Oh, that was NOT James's voice. She sobbed wildly as she blocked the door with every spell she knew, and a few she made up on the spot. The heavy tramp of his boots was getting closer and closer. Thirteen thuds that landed heavily on the steps beneath them. He was coming. She felt his magical presence like a fire, the heat surging as he thudded closer, step by step, reaching out for dry wood to burn. The spells should buy time, but only a little precious time. She scooped up Harry, setting him against the wall and turning her back to him, drawing her wand and preparing to fight.
"Mummy?"
"Wha-what?" She turned around to look at Harry. "Harry! You can talk! What is it?"
"I love you, Mummy."