Alastor Moody growled in fury as he listened to a wailing Hagrid's recollection of what he had seen at the Potters' house less than an hour before and glared into nothing. He was aware of Albus and Minerva's wary glances, being the paranoid bastard that he was, and he knew that the only other two present weren't expecting such a strong, imminent reaction from him.

"Alastor?" Minerva questioned, voice tight in the face of the horror of Hagrid's revelation, while the man himself sobbed at the Potters' fates.

"James and Lily were under a Fidelius," he growled in a clipped voice, trying to keep his head in the game. Sirius. "Black was their Secret Keeper, wasn't he Albus."

The usual twinkle in the ancient wizard's blue eyes that Alastor usually found so damn annoying was absent as the Leader of the Light answered gravely, "I'm afraid so, Alastor."

Minerva gasped, "You aren't suggesting-!?"

"He's the only one who could have done it!" Alastor snapped, fighting the sense of betrayal and loss at the realisation that Black had been a Death Eater the whole time – right under his nose! "Potter trusted him above all others!"

"Sirius would never betray us – and he'd certainly never betray the Potters!" Minerva tried to deny.

"Hagrid's story proves otherwise!" Alastor yelled back.

"Enough!" Albus cut them both off sharply, before turning to Alastor expectantly. After a moment of glaring at Minerva, he responded to Albus' silent request.

"Even though Hagrid didn't find any bodies, the presence of the Dark Mark means that they're dead or as good as. Voldemort wouldn't bother keeping them alive for long, so I expect their missing state means that he played with them a bit before killing them," Alastor ignored Minerva's sob and did his best to keep his own mind professional and detached. "If Black was the Secret Keeper, which we know he was, then he gave them up willingly. Neither veritaserum nor the Imperious can be used to retrieve Fidelius locations and Black's too strong-willed to give into torture. His occlumency is too good for it to have been taken from his mind, either."

"I can't believe it," Minerva muttered, shaking her head and withholding tears.

"Alas, we knew there was a traitor among us," Albus said sadly. "It is most unfortunate that the bonds of friendship were not enough to overcome the allure of power in this case."

Alastor barely stopped himself from snarling at that. Black. Black.

Sirius.

How had he missed it!? How had been fooled by the smirking youth he'd trained as a Hit Wizard!? The crazy idiot who was ruthless in his pursuit of justice and would do anything for his friends? The man he'd been so relieved to see return alive after he had been captured by Death Eaters? The fighter whose work in the Order had had him undertaking missions that would have been difficult even for an Auror and who Alastor had planned on promoting to such as soon as he could do it officially? The legend among the rookies who'd turned his back on his family's wealth, power and bigoted, elitist beliefs?

He, Alastor Moody, renowned Auror, member of the Order of the Phoenix and paranoid bastard, had been taken in by Sirius Black, and now the Potters were dead. They were now just the latest on the list of casualties the Order had suffered because of the traitor who had been nameless for over a year. And he'd never forgive himself.

But, he'd do his job and catch the son of a bitch now.

"We need to catch Sirius Black, and also do our best to discover the fates that befell the Potters, if we can," Albus ordered, echoing Alastor's own promise, and Alastor disapparated to give his squad their new task: catching one of their own.


It had only taken two days for Sirius to catch up to Peter. Somehow, he'd thought that the revelation that he didn't know Peter as well as he'd thought would make it more difficult for him to find the rat. But it turned out that, despite how grossly he had misjudged his once friend's courage and loyalty, everything he recalled about Peter's habits, and the way he thought, was accurate. Sirius wasn't sure if that made Wormtail's betrayal worse.

We should have seen it. I should have seen it, Sirius thought, trying unsuccessfully to let his bitterness and anger squash any feelings of sadness he harboured. Peter didn't deserve his pain. He had betrayed them – betrayed the bond of family that had tied him to the rest of the Marauders, and then to Lily and Harry. He'd betrayed the Light, the Order and wizard-kind by spying for Voldemort. He'd betrayed everything that he had claimed to stand for; equality, justice, freedom.

He'd betrayed Wormtail – or who Wormtail had once been. He'd turned his back on the person that Sirius had trusted and loved and admired. On the boy that had smuggled food to Remus when he'd been stuck in the hospital wing after that particularly rough transformation in fourth year. On the friend who gave James such an encouraging speech before his first Quidditch game, when he'd been more than a little nervous. On the brother who had once unknowingly stopped Sirius from jumping off the astronomy tower with just his desire to hang out.

It was this difficulty to reconcile one of his closest friends with a man who had sold James, Lily and little Harry out to Voldemort that caused the sadness Sirius struggled to control. He was still doing his best to link the concept of Peter to the images he had burned into his brain of the Dark Mark, Benjy's mutilated body, the McKinnon household, and, of course, the very recent addition of the scene from Godric's Hollow.

But those images were enough. Sirius didn't understand, but he knew. He knew what Peter had done, and no memories of brotherhood were enough to deter Sirius from his task of bringing the rat in.

Sirius had been planning on going straight to the Order after he had staged the crime scene at Godric's Hollow, but he'd remembered that he couldn't do anything until the other him had gone back in time. Not if he didn't want to risk the space-time-continuum. So he'd waited in the shadows for almost five hours, until he witnessed a desperate Sirius Black crash his motorcycle in the middle of the street. He had watched the events from earlier play out from a short distance, until the past him ran off behind a house, leaving a very bewildered muggle man standing by his motorcycle. He had then waited a minute, just to be sure, before strolling over to the man, clapping him on the shoulder with a grin, picking up his motorcycle and driving off.

It was in those hours of waiting that Sirius had thought about everything, including his plan, but more particularly; Peter. Whatever else Peter was, he'd always been good and hiding and laying low, just like a rat, and if Sirius was going to find him, he'd need to start chasing his leads quickly, before Peter caught on that his cover was blown. Sitting in the shadows and watching the evening turn to night, Sirius had come to the realisation that going to the Order for help would not be such a good idea, as they all thought him to be the Potter's Secret Keeper, and therefore a Death Eater and traitor.

He could have proved his innocence to them simply enough (if they didn't curse him on sight), but since they would've had no reason to suspect Peter, clearing his name among them would have resulted in Peter – as a trusted member of the Order - being alerted to the fact that his cover was blown, and then he'd be near impossible to track down. The only person who might have believed him unconditionally was neck-deep in his role as a spy among the werewolf packs, and Sirius wasn't even sure if Remus would have believed him if he'd claimed that Wormtail was the traitor. No, Sirius had had to go alone, and he had had to go then if he hadn't wanted the trail to go cold. He'd be able to explain the entire situation to the Order once he brought Peter in.

Which brought him to a dark alley, two days later, standing behind a box in his Grim animagus form, and watching a shifty Peter Pettigrew as he fidgeted slightly near the exit, unaware that he was being observed. Following Peter's trail would have taken anyone else, even James and Remus, much longer, if they were able to find him at all, but Sirius had always been adept at tracking as a Hit Wizard and soldier for the Order, and the things he knew about Peter meant that it hadn't taken him long at all to figure out which trails he should investigate.

It seemed as though Peter was planning on hiding out in the muggle world. Clever, really. It would be incredibly difficult for anyone magical to find him once he was in the much larger and quite alien muggle cities. Especially considering his status as an animagus was unknown to almost everyone – and even if everyone knew, the cities were so large they could literally search for years without catching any glimpse of him. Although, it wasn't Peter's style to stay hidden among the muggles for the rest of his life. He'd want to keep informed of the happenings of magical Britain, so he'd likely figure out some way to hide within their world.

It didn't matter either way, because Sirius had found him before he could disappear. He knew that Peter would be aware that Sirius would hunt him down for betraying Lily and James. A part of him wished to kill Peter for his betrayal, but it was small and superseded by the larger parts of him that wanted him alive for the logically tactical reason of information, and the part that still saw Peter as a brother and wanted beyond anything for this to turn out to all be some mistake.

The desire to take Peter in alive was what led to Sirius transforming into a man again, so he would be able to stun his once friend and take him in. As his Grim form melted into a crouching man with intense, grey eyes and long, raven hair, Peter twitched and turned to face him.

Knowing he'd been made, Sirius stepped out from behind the box, his wand loose in his hand so as to not startle the rat. He was confident enough in his reflexes to know that he would be able to take Peter down if he went for his own wand. No, the real issue would be ensuring he didn't switch to his rat form and disappear out the alley and into the street.

"Sirius, w-what are you doing here?" Peter wrung his wrists, obviously scared of what he knew Sirius was there for but hoping to play innocent. The sight disgusted Sirius.

"Hello Peter," Sirius replied, trying to keep his voice even and absent of the betrayal that resurfaced, "I'm just here for a chat."

Peter tried to sneak a glance around, looking for some way to escape unhindered, no doubt.

"O-oh?"

"Yes, Wormy. I want to talk about why you betrayed us; why you sold out your friends to Voldemort," Peter flinched at the name, but Sirius continued regardless, "And then I want you to come back with me, so you can tell the rest of the Order everything you've ever done for the enemy."

"I didn't want to!" Peter cried pathetically, "The Dark Lord; he made me! Please, Sirius, my friend, you have to understand! You have to believe me! You know what it's like, living with your family – the power they have at their disposal-!"

"Don't you dare try to justify yourself like that!" Sirius yelled, his temper finally snapping, before he calmed himself with a breath, and his rage receded into a smoulder, "There's no excuse for what you did, Peter. No excuse."

Obviously seeing the sincerity in Sirius' words, Peter suddenly turned into a rat and bolted out the alley. Sirius saw what he was about to do a moment before he transformed, but the stupefy he sent to arrest him missed by mere millimetres. He ran out the alley in pursuit, determined not to let Peter get away, and soon found himself in the middle of a street, teeming with innocent, muggle bystanders. This is bad, Sirius realised, before his attention was drawn to Peter, who – surprisingly - stood in the middle of the street.

He just had time to realise that Peter must have been banking on the Statute of Secrecy to protect himself from Sirius, before Peter began shouting – breaking that notion.

"Why did you do it, Sirius?! How could you betray Lily and James; our friends!?" Peter's voice was loud and desperate, attracting the attention of many of the muggles in the street. Sirius was startled, to say the least, before realising what Peter was doing – framing him. Sirius was about to stun him, Statute of Secrecy be damned, but Peter's next move was too horrific and bold for him to have ever predicted of his once friend.

He saw Peter pull out a knife and sever his own finger before pulling out his wand. Sirius didn't understand the move; was completely surprised by it – and it was that surprise which cost him. He still subconsciously expected Peter to try and run, or to at least throw a spell at him. What he wasn't expecting, was for the rat to point his wand just behind him and lowly scream, "Bombarda maxima!"

He wasn't expecting it, but Sirius – with his instincts cultivated from years of abuse, and time as a Marauder, a Hit Wizard, a prisoner of war, and a soldier – still reacted.

All he was really aware of was the fact that there were about forty innocents standing behind Peter; forty innocents who were about to be killed. So, with a surge of magic borne from years of intense magical training and reflexes from the entirety of his life, Sirius threw a shield or a spell or a barrier, or whatever it was, in an effort to contain as much of the blast as possible, mitigating the damage and preventing any casualties. He didn't know if he'd cast the spell aloud, or even if it was a real spell. Perhaps it was a bastardised version, or a Frankenstein shield – he didn't really know, all he knew was that it had to succeed or more lives would be lost to Peter Pettigrew.

So it did succeed.

Sirius was blown backwards in a wave of intense heat as Peter's spell, blocked from travelling backwards, blew up instead. A column of magical fire burst upwards and around Peter in an explosion that hugged the edges of the street, barely missing the closest civilians, who were also blasted back and away, falling onto the street or hitting buildings.

Ears ringing, and body abused from the explosion and scraping across the bitumen in landing, Sirius eventually sat up and watched as the smoke dissipated from the area Peter had been standing. He could hear people screaming in terror and alarms blaring, as he looked at the scorched place where his once friend had stood just a moment ago. A few feet away from him, a blackened, fat but familiar arm was lying in street, having been blown away from the explosion.

It was that sight that caused Sirius to break down. His head swarming with blackness (which could no doubt be attributed to a head injury) and the shock from the last few minutes finally kicking in, Sirius began to chuckle. A crazed, mad, insane chuckle that soon grew to outright laughter as he looked at all that remained of Wormtail, his friend, brother and fellow Marauder. There were sobs interspersed with that too, and soon he had tears streaming down his face, his emotions overloading and his body unsure how, exactly, to respond.

He lay there like that in the street, for the next fifteen minutes, laughing and crying while he listened to the devastated chaos around him as the muggles panicked over what they had just seen in their street. He only stopped when, after those fifteen minutes, he was hit by three different stupefies from the wands of the Aurors and Hit Team who had been sent to the scene.