St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. It was a place that he hadn't been before; it was only referred to as the hospital in his long Wizardly lifetime. He followed the directions to a tea when it regarded apparating there on his wish. The door chimed as he entered the hospital then went for the spells section of the hospital after reading the plagues.

He came into the community room and heard noises. Sounds of chess pieces being moved from tables, the sound of knitting, people mindlessly watching Wizardly television that had been produced for their liking, and there was one noise in particular that stood out. He saw a familiar figure in a white gown facing the corner with their back to him singing quite lovely. Dark brown curly hair that stood out against the rest of the other people; his hair was curly and short compared to the rest.

"Padfoot?"

Peter approached the secret keeper then put a hand on their shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

The man carried on singing.

"Sirius Orion Black, can you please face me?"

The man carried on.

"I thought you were braver than I was. But, you're not. We all got scars."

The man was singing the muggle song 'the wheels on the bus go round and round'.

"Look at me!"

Peter turned the man around and-there was something missing in his eyes, something was wrong, something was absent, it wasn't his soul, but something significant-Sirius was singing, cheerfully. Sirius was waving a finger along to the rhythm to the song and a grin. All the while not minding the deeply horrified and paled man's reaction.

"Padfoot?" Peter squeaked once regaining what was left of his bearings.

Not a scowl, not a retort that he wasn't afraid, not a rude comment.

"Are you there?"

Sirius stared at Peter as though he didn't know who he was or what he was.

"Can you hear me?"

Peter's hands fell off the man's shoulder.

"Oh great Merlin," Peter said in horror stepping back. "Sirius-I-I-I-I-I knew you were a fighter but I didn't expect you to go that far."

He watched the man walk past him. Peter's face paled as he turned toward the figure that was singing walking about in the ward then sat down into the nearest chair going on to another song. Peter cover his mouth with a hand feeling as though he wanted to shrink and never show himself ever again. Not as a man but as a small gutless mouse.

No, they would get on to me. Peter shook his head. And I would release the information.

Peter fought back the tears, the terror, leaving the room as his heart pounded. He came to a pause by a healer who placed their hand on the side of her shoulder. She was gentle and kind. Reassuring as he sniffled then handed him a handkerchief and he blew into it. With magic, she cleaned it off once he returned it to her.

"Hello, you're a family friend of Sirius Black?"

"In a way." Peter said. "What happened to him?"

"He was tortured by you know who." The healer replied then grimaced.

"I have heard." Peter said. "How did he survive?"

"You mean you haven't heard?" She raised her brows.

"I haven't." Peter shook his head.

"Everyone knows." The healer said.

"I left before I got the owl." Peter shrugged.

The healer shook her head with a task.

"Complete accident," The healer said. "Terribly mad and allowed to hold his wand for one last time before you know who killed him and then. . . and then. . and then . . "

"And then what?" Peter asked.

The healer in the green robes looked toward Sirius.

"Before you know who knew it; Sirius Black returned. For just a moment." Peter grew a small heart broken smile. That's Padfoot. "A surreal glorious moment that lasted a while."

Her gaze shifted toward Peter as the man started to feel himself grow emotional. Over someone that he had betrayed regarding who was the secret keeper. Someone who used to be in a elite pure blood family and had sided with the muggle born Wizards. Chosen death over not having them at all and remaining in the sidelines as they were killed.

A close friend used as a meat shield. Someone that he had grown up alongside from a young boy into a young man. Someone-Someone that he had cared for. It was too late. The damage was done. Too little.

"Then he was truly rendered insane by one of you know who's followers that remained. I heard there was a fitting fight for him. Him against a dozen Death Eaters as he ran for help." He paused letting the words sink in. "Before he was knocked out of commission then struck with a unforgivable curse."

Peter's smile became tearful.

"Course that is according to the wild rumors running amok." The healer finished.

Peter sucked in a breath then exhaled and let go of a pretty smile.

"Thank you." Peter said. "You have been most helpful."

Then Peter walked down the corridor and apparated away.