Sirius Black Apparated with a sharp crack into an alley way, the sound like a gun shot against the brick walls which were papered with damp advertisements and scrawled with illegible graffiti. Checking his bearings, he held his wand under the cuff of his long jacket that he pulled up to conceal his once handsome face which was now covered in stubble, his eyes blood shot. There was only reason why he was here in central London in day light, but this time it wasn't to carry out any Ministry work as an Auror…it was much more.

Sirius strayed to the corner, his eyes roaming the swells of people walking back and forth. All of them were Muggle no doubt, wearing suites with those ties and that oblivious look on their face which showed they had no idea magic existed. He needed to find someone who did know his world, someone whose face was more conscious of it.

Pettigrew just as he'd hoped was standing in the middle of the street, his watery eyes wide and probing as he looked around at his surroundings with terrified curiosity. He didn't bother to blend in. People buffered him where he stood, some of them hissing insults as they pushed their way past. One particularly large man shoved him hard so that he staggered and in that split second, Sirius saw his face turn to rage and he raised his wand.

"No!" he roared and emerging from the shadows, he charged towards him, his wand still secured under his sleeve. His shouting alerted, Pettigrew whose head snapped towards him, his eyes bulging with terror as he back away, stumbling onto the road.

There was a blaring of horns and screeching of tires, as cars skidded to a halt, Pettigrew bracing the bonnet of the closest with his hands.

"Watch it, you psycho!" the driver hollered, leaning out of his window and from there Pettigrew ran, just as Sirius reached the curb, again lagging behind.

When the road had finally cleared, Sirius tore after him, his urge to get revenge hot in his veins as he pursued the squat man.

Pettigrew continuing to glance behind him, darted down a busy street again called Pall Mall and tried to blend in, so that Sirius now had to bat people away in order to reach him.

He knew Pettigrew, he knew if he kept chasing that squat man that he wasn't going to last. With or without magic, he didn't have the speed or the stamina, he never had.

Sirius was catching up and could hear the wheezing of Pettigrew, soon turn into a rasping as the two of them neared a grand white building whose façade was structured with many columns. There were less people here, but this time they weren't wearing suites so much, but instead more casual clothing. Some of them were stopping to take pictures, their faces mirroring that of what Pettigrew's had been; awe of their surroundings.

At the entrance of the building, was a guard dressed in a red uniform and a large black hat who stood completely still as a policeman paced back and forth glaring at the busker who muttered to himself as he tuned his guitar.

Sirius slowed himself so as not to rouse suspicions just as Pettigrew who was clutching his chest now, staggered, gasping for air in the middle of the crowd. He stopped to catch his breath, near a young couple who were posing in front of the red uniformed guard. Sirius drew close to a pillar and watched as the Muggle woman of the two, noticing Pettigrew's distress, approached him and offered him water from her bottle.

"Are you alright sir?" she asked kindly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's very hot today…did you want to sit down?"

Pettigrew, glancing at her with beady eyes, suddenly snarled at her offer and pushed her out of the way, so that his eyes fell on Sirius who was now striding towards him.

Sirius felt the heat of revenge coarse through him, as he stepped forward, his wand quivering under the rim of his coat cuff, as he confronted the man he used to call his friend.

His head rushed with all the possible ways he could punish Pettigrew, who'd bought him to such a public place, which he hadn't planned for.

He thought of things that were above his morale: the Cruciatus curse as a way to stop him escaping, he was already gasping for breath so the fact he was screaming in pain could give the impression he was having a heart attack. Or what he felt like doing; the Avada Kadrava curse, kill him right there and then, repaying him the way that he betrayed James and Lilly…

However, deep down, he knew he'd have to catch Pettigrew and keep him in one piece; alive and not tortured if he was going to convince the Ministry that he as well as Voldemort should be accountable for the Potters' deaths. So that meant he had to stun him.

Smiling, Sirius neared Pettigrew who was searching furiously for a way to escape only to see that Muggles were pressing in on him as they stopped and stared. His eyes were swivelling back and forth and then he began to gasp violently, making Sirius think he really was suffering heart failure right at that moment…

Except all of a sudden, he flung his arm at Sirius and with a quivering finger, wheezed.

"You killed the Potters!" he jabbed his finger at him, his body completely shaking. "You Sirius Black, betrayed them to the Dark Lord!"

Sirius suddenly felt all eyes on him like hot pins and looking around saw that a crowd of Muggles, including the guard in red were now staring at him in shock. He gazed at them for a second, before realising what he was being accused of- betraying his friends, the one thing he'd never do-unlike the man who stood before him.

Anger swelling through him, Sirius turned to Pettigrew and raised his wand.

"How dare you-"

All of a sudden there was a deafening bang and Sirius was blasted off his feet, the air him seeming to evaporate in an intense heat, which was twisted with terrified screams. Hitting the ground hard, Sirius fell into the gutter, his wand clattering into the drain as he shielded his head from the debris which showered him. Shards of wood and stone pelted him, so he curled up for cover, only to hear a strange sound, a kind of tinkering, and looking through his lashes, he saw that coins were falling around him; it was the busker's money.

Lying still, he waited with baited breath for the rubble to settle all the while hearing the continuous shattering and crumbling of stone. The air was thick with choking greyed smoke and coughing; he rolled to his knees and groped around for his wand, finding that it'd disappeared.

Squinting, he turned to the curb where he could hear the moans of injured Muggles who were sprawling over the street, some of them moving others not. Sirius felt an urge to help them, but at the same time needed to urgently check something-whether Pettigrew was dead or alive.

Stumbling onto the path, saw that the whole entrance to the building had been blown off so that there was only but a huge gaping hole where the front doors once stood.

He treaded over the ruins of masonry and stone, his eyes widening when he saw what looked like pieces of blackened wood scattered about, which upon closer inspection seemed to have fingers or the mangled remains of a shoe.

Backing away, he covered his mouth with his hand to keep himself from retching and continued towards the spot where Pettigrew had been, the place marked with a warped piece of metal which once had been the Muggle lady's camera.

There, between two lumps of stone was a piece of slightly singed fabric which Sirius pulled out, revealing the whole of Pettigrew's shabby jacket. Holding it in his trembling hands, he knew this could only mean one thing-that he had transformed into a rat, his animagus, and managed to escape. Pettigrew's vacant clothes suggested that he'd shrunken into the small animal, whilst their untouched condition also showed that he'd cast a protection charm to counteract the explosion he'd created himself.

Sirius's blood was boiling and he tried to refrain from shredding the jacket into pieces in his anger.

That sly back stabber! he though and he threw down the clothing in frustration just as he heard the crack of people Aparating.

"Stop!" came a hoarse voice and through the dust, a tall wizard dressed in what were unmistakably Ministry of Magic clothes, came running towards him.

Sirius halted and held up his hands to show that he was unarmed as the wizard jabbed his wand into his chest, speaking quickly.

"Sirius Black isn't it?" he said, patting down his jacket and robes for any wand. "Stay put."

"How did you know my name?" asked Sirius alarmed. "Wait! You're a Ministry official…you can help me then! I'm looking for-"

"Stay put, you hear me?" roared the wizard and he seized him by the scruff of the neck, holding the wand to the back of his head. "I'll tell you when you speak."

Sirius' heart was thundering as he tried to remain still, his mind rushing as he tried to contemplate what was happening. How did this man know his name, so instantly? And why was he blaming him for all of this?

Suddenly there was another voice.

"Smails, where are you?" it said, rough and deep. "Oh blimey…this is..."

"Don't look 'round, Tarrica," said Smails, the wizard holding Sirius. "Just come over here and help me Ok? The Ministry'll deal with this later."

"I know," said Tarrica, his voice softening, "but it's just…look there's a Muggle over there who's injured can't we help?"

"No," said Smails, "we're not here to play Samaritans."

Sirius glimpsed Tarrica's worn shoes hanging off the edge of the curb, and watched as they hesitantly turned away from the street.

"Did you hear me you oaf? Come over here! We need to try and find Pettigrew!"

Sirius's eyes widened in surprise; they like him, had been pursuing Peter Pettigrew too?

Tarrica was now kicking away the stones that concealed the area where Pettigrew's coat had been and suddenly produced a white handkerchief from his wand. Bending over, he used it to pick something up, something which immediately turned the cloth red.

"Look…w-what I found, Smails," Tarrica said and his voice seemed to go up an octave. "I-It's a f-finger."

Sirius felt the tip of wand pointed at his head, move as the wizard who held him, shifted uncomfortably.

"Of…," Smails began and he swallowed. "Of P-Pettigrew?"

"Yes."

There was a pregnant pause as the three of them stared at it, then suddenly the ear splitting wailing of an ambulance approaching, filled the air.

"We better go Smails," Tarrica said hastily. "Fudge won't be happy with us staying here and making a scene. He said he wanted us back there as soon as possible to let him know if… Pettigrew was alright."

There was a second pause and then Smails spoke, though he seemed to struggle.

"We 'ave to tell him that he's dead and that," he gestured to the finger that had now drenched the whole handkerchief in blood, "…is the only thing left of him. He won't be impressed, he wanted Pettigrew protected, but he might be later because at least we got the killer."

Sirius froze and he felt his brain go numb. He was actually going to be accused of all this? He'd been framed! His mouth went dry and he couldn't think properly…maybe this was an illusion…maybe he'd hit his head too hard when he'd fallen.

But that excuse proved poor when Smails muttered a charm and before his eyes, iron fetters blossomed around his wrists and hearing a clinking, around his ankles as well.

"Wait a minute," Sirius stammered. "I didn't do anything…I was trying to catch Pettigrew! He's the one you who did all this, not me! Please just let me explain."

He tried to fumble for his wand which he kept in his pocket before realising for the second time that it'd clattered into the drain and if it hadn't one of these wizard's would've taken it anyway.

"That's unlikely Black," said Smails, prodding him forward towards the cover of an alley. "We have it on good authority that you've been trying to track down Pettigrew and assault him when you got the chance."

"What?"

"Pettigrew came and reported your actions, said you were trying to hunt him down," said Tarrica, who Sirius upon seeing him judged him to be at least twenty younger with straw coloured hair. "That's where we knew to find you…we've been tracking you Black, but unfortunately we were too late today for…Pettigrew."

"I didn't do anything!" said Sirius, pulling against the shackles. "I swear I didn't! I want to talk to the Minister of Magic, I want to talk to Fudge!"

Smails, pulled him into the shadows of the alley and when Tarrica joined him, the two of them got ready to Disapparate.

"I wouldn't count on it," he said grimly, grasping Sirius's shoulder which was trembling. "You've just earned yourself a one-way ticket to Azkaban."

And at that very moment Sirius felt the whole of his body turn seize up and thought he was going to fall to pieces, but it wasn't because he was Apparating.