The Englishman treads forward, the bleakness of the dungeon getting to him quickly. His footsteps echo throughout the dungeon, prisoners casting their weary gazes upon him as he passes. There is only one destination on his mind. The guard that trots alongside him gives a slight nod upon seeing a certain cell.

"Cell 9276. Here you are, Kirkland." The guard nods in a polite manner before turning his attention to the exhausted and ragged man inside of the cell, his voice cold and heavy with disgust. "Black, get up! You have a visitor."

The man known as Sirius Black looks into the eyes of Arthur Kirkland, the personification of England. The caution that glistens in Black's gaze is temporary, softening into hope and a tinge of happiness.

"Arthur, old friend." Sirius murmurs, his legs buckling as he collapses to his knees. His head hangs as he grasps the iron bars in a firm grip. "I know you most likely do not believe in my pleas, but I need you to believe me. I did not kill Lily and James Potter. I did not kill Peter Pettigrew. I did not kill those thirteen muggles. Please believe me."

Arthur's gaze softens a tad upon hearing Sirius' weakened, raspy voice. He crouches in front of the cell, thoughtfulness spreading like fire throughout his jade eyes. He slips his hand wordlessly over Sirius' clenched one, squeezing it.

"Thank you." Sirius breathes, his entire body trembling. "Thank you so much."

"Of course." Arthur murmurs, a worried smile appearing on his face. "I'm the only one that believes you, Sirius. I know, however, that Pettigrew is alive. With the members of the Order of the Phoenix knowing about the existence of personifications, I need to find Pettigrew. If the Death Eaters get their hands on this information..."

Sirius looks up at the man that looked the same age as he did, and yet was centuries old than he was. "Will you be alright, Arthur?" He asked.

"I will be fine, Sirius." Arthur confirms as he rises to his feet, straightening out his suit. "I am afraid, however, that I have to go to a World Meeting now. I will come by to see you later."

Sirius offers him a weak smile. "Thank you. And...please, try to find Pettigrew.

"Of course." Arthur nods to the weakened man, a glint of pride in his eyes. "Keep on fighting, Sirius, and make me proud."

Arthur huffs, the irritation burning in his bright jade eyes. Alfred was bickering with Francis, ("I did not make french fries, you fool!") ("Then why are they called FRENCH fries?") Veneziano was pestering Ludwig for pasta, ("Please, Ludwig? Just give me five minutes!") ("Feliciano, we're in the middle of a world meeting!) Romano was trying to eat his tomatoes in peace but Spain kept snagging some of them when he wasn't looking ("Tomato bastard, give that back!") ("But Roma, they're so good!") In other words, the normal worldly conflicts.

Arthur crosses his arms over his chest, deep in thought about his visit to Sirius. His eyes drift so that his gaze is directed to the toes of his boots. He gnaws on his lower lip worriedly.

"Oh my god!" Alfred squeals, launching himself onto Matthew's lap while attempting to brush something off. "It's a rat!"

The rat had climbed onto the meeting table and was scuttling around, little paws skittering on the slick surface. Arthur leans back nonchalantly, directing his gaze onto the little rat's paws. Suspicion dances within his triumphant gaze, a small smirk emerging onto his face. When he observed the rat's movements, he could easily see something was off. And when the magical aura hit him, he had a rather good idea what that rat was, or better yet, who.

It is when he notices one little toe missing that he snatches up the terrified rat by its' tail, having all the confirmation he needed. It squeaks, entire body stiffening and staring at England in horror. The other countries stare at him in surprise.

"Don't hurt it!" Veneziano wails, Ludwig having to restrain the frantic nation. Alfred clings to Matthew, screeching about their ultimate demises. Francis looks somewhat amused, raising a rose to his dainty lips. Ivan looks at him with childish curiousity, his amethyst eyes twinkling with amusement. Yao is rolling his eyes and opening up one of his snacks.

"You all are probably going to think that I'm bloody insane." Arthur ignores the random muttering ("But don't we already?") and shakes the petrified rat in the air. Veneziano looks about ready to have a seizure, crying silently.

"I apologize for this." He says simply, pulling out his wand. Not the fake wand with the star at the top — that wand was merely for show — but the wand he used for real spellcasting that didn't including summoning demons.

Arthur murmurs a few words before tapping the rat lightly on the head.

The blinding light that surrounds the rat has several of the nations flinching away, Francis and Alfred letting out dramatic wails.

Arthur immediately gets into his battling pose upon seeing the face of Peter Pettigrew. The former Order of the Phoenix member sneers at the Englishman, pulling his own wand out of his back pocket.

"I thought that wizards don't put their wands in their pockets?" England jeers, holding his wand steadily to jab Pettigrew in between his eyes. "Or better yet, I thought a true wizard doesn't betray his friends for power?"

"It wasn't for power!" Pettigrew's squeaky voice stutters. "It was for safety! If I didn't join the Dark Lord, he would have killed me! I would have died, and nobody would remember little Peter Pettigrew because he was never important."

"Yet you seem to think this is a valid excuse to kill two of your friends, thirteen random people, and frame another friend for the crime." Arthur shakes his head in disgust. "I will never be able to understand you, Pettigrew."

"I will never be able to understand you... England." A smirk widens across Pettigrew's face, and England offers him a wicked grin. The other nations look horrified, wondering where this man who came out of nowhere knew that they were nations.

"That's quite alright, lad." Arthur counters. "At least I haven't killed my friends just so I could save myself. Are fifteen lives — or, really, sixteen due to the fact that Sirius might rot in a cell for the rest of his life because you framed him — equal to the price of one?"

"When it is my own." Pettigrew replies. "Now, enough with the questions. I think it is time that we battle this out, hm?"

Arthur reacts first, brandishing his wand as he shouts, "Flipendo!"

Pettigrew soars into the air and slams into the wall, sinking to the ground. He does not, however, give up, instead leaping nimbly to his feet when he can move. He lashes out with his wand, shouting. "Confringo!"

Arthur gasps in alarm as he feels flames harrowing up his back. "You bloody git!" He howls, turning his wand on himself. "Augamenti!"

The flames are soon put out on the fuming Englishman. Pettigrew snickers at the expression the other one carries. Arthur scowls at him, lifting up his wand and pausing, a smirk crossing his face. "Langlock!"

Pettigrew gasps and tries to speak. His tongue, however, was glued to the roof of his mouth. Arthur smirked, watching him struggle for a bit, before finally deciding to end the battle. "Incarcerous!"

Ropes bind themself around the struggling Death Eater. A look of satisfaction crosses the Englishman's face. "Did you seriously think you could come into this meeting and try to attack one of us? Really? Hm, such a shame. You won't be sneaking around anywhere any time soon."

Arthur hauls the frantic fugitive so that he was standing upright. The other countries looked shocked. Arthur offers them a small smirk.

"I'm afraid I will have to miss the rest of this meeting. I have to bring this little rat to where he belongs." Arthur turns to face Pettigrew with a wide smile. "So, old chap, you ready to meet some dementors?"

Pettigrew whimpers in fear. Arthur looks at him with a grim expression. "You commit the crime, you pay the time. Simple as that."

Arthur waves his wand and with a loud crack the two wizards are gone. The countries stare in shock after the two of them left.

"So...Art's magic is real?"

"Does that mean fairies are real too?"

"It took you all long enough to realize we, as in England, Romania, and myself, were telling the truth."

"Ludwig, can I have some pasta now?"

"Feliciano!"

Later in the meeting, just as it was about to end, Arthur comes striding in with a satisfied expression on his face. Trailing behind him is a ragged looking man with a wide smile on his face.

"Well, lads." Arthur says, casting a look over at the grinning Sirius. "I do believe I have a lot of explaining to do, hm?"

"I would hang around longer, but I want to go check on Remus soon." Sirius suddenly begins to look serious, a look of concern forming on his face. Arthur chuckles.

"You should." Arthur responds cheekily. "You might even be surprised. It's about damn time - "

"Arthur!" Sirius sputters, his cheeks turning a flaming red. "I thought you told me you wouldn't use that against me."

"But I'm not? I'm merely suggesting that you should go check on Remus. Although, if you want to finally confess to him, that would be great. The tension is becoming too powerful." Arthur smirks, patting the embarassed Sirius' shoulder. He then turns more serious. "I'm glad you're out of Azakaban. Just be careful, alright? Remus might not have heard the news yet."

"Thank you." Sirius says sincerely. Arthur offers him a nod and turns to face the table, lifting his tea cup to his lips.

"So, what was the bloody meeting about again?" Arthur questions.

Sirius snorts with laughter.

So, it's Mewtwo back from almost a month of inactivity. I apologize. I have had a rather bad deal of writers' block recently. Although, I do have quite a few ideas. I just can't seem to write them. I have another Pottertalia idea, and it might actually be a three-shot (finally, not a one-shot)!