PART III

Sirius had been stalking his childhood friend for the better part of three hours, and he was fed up. He decided to make his presence known. He shot through the crowd with a speed he had not known he possesed. He reached out a hand and grasped Peter's shoulder with a vice-like grip brought on by adrenaline. "Hello, Peter."
Peter shocked him by escaping his grip and bolting through the sea of muggles. Sirius was barely three yards behind him. Suddenly, Peter darted into a side alley, Sirius followed. He turned the corner to find an empty dead end. His eyes narrowed as he walked toward a corner, his nostrils flared, as if to sniff out the betrayal that emanated from Peter's sorry carcass.
Sirius heard a soft scratching and whirled around , sending a bolt of lightning at a rat in the middle of the alley. Shortly there after, none other than Peter Pettigrew stood before him. "I knew I smelled worthless vermin!"
Peter's watery eyes blinked rapidly for a moment before he pulled out a wand. Sirius laughed his bark-like laughter. "Do you honestly think you can kill me in a duel?"
Pettigrew paused, as though realizing the logic of Sirius' taunt. He then whipped out a knife before Sirius could make a move. When had he gotten so fast? Pettigrew positioned himself towards the middle of the street, a smile curled about his thin lips. Sirius' eyes widened. "Peter, what are you-"
"Yes Sirius, I do think I could kill you in a duel, but I've a better idea for you." With that he bagan to shout. "Lily and James, Sirius, how could you?" No sooner had the words left his mouth, than Pettigrew had cut off his own finger.
Both men shot a spell and screamed, one in pain and triumph, the other in agony and desperation. There was a deafening explosion and a blinding light, and when it was over, Sirius was stunned. Peter had dissappeared, and they had busted a sewer line, causing who knows what to shoot out of the large crater in the middle of the road.
It only took a moment for Sirius' brain to restart...and he began to laugh. He laughed harsh, bitter laughter. He had underestimated Pettigrew and paid dearly for it. He had expected it to be to be easy, remebering all to well the awkward, clumsy, pig of a boy he had known in school. Why should Peter have been any sort of match for Sirius Black, King of Hogwarts?
Sirius' laughter started anew, only vaguley aware as he was of Ministry Officials gathering, all of whom looked slightly unnerved at Sirius' behavior. He threw his wand to the ground and stopped laughing long enough for the ministry goons to bind him securely.
It was then that Sirius spotted a thin trail of blood leading down the street and into a manhole. Sirius' laughter rang out louder than before. In fact, he laughed all the way to the ministry.

Sirius was still chukling to himself lightly as he was directed into a large , deep chesnut office. The name on the desk read "Bartemius Crouch: Head of Magical Law Enforcement."
Sirius only mildly cared what would become of him, and looked so when Crouch himself marched in through a side door.
"Sirius Black: spy, murderer, and traitor. Do you deny that you are responsible for the deaths of the Potters, Mr. Pettigrew, and thirteen muggles?"
Sirius opened his mouth to deny, but...no, it was his fault. If he hadn't suggested Pettigrew in the first place, none of this would have happened. "I am responsible for all deaths but Pettigrew's...he's not dead."
"He's mental," murmered Crouch more to himself than anyone else. "Well, Mr. Black, I'm glad you confessed. You would not have been allowed the privelege of a trial reguardless." He looked to the guard. "Azkaban."
Azkaban. The word rang like a faraway church bell in his mind. Sirius had only heard rumors, and had never seen a dementor. It was then and there that his eyes began to appear sunken and emotionless.
The journey to the wizard prison was not all that bad. It was only when he stepped onto the the island and felt all the happiness drain from him that he was truly afraid.

Sirius awoke to the sound of a metal door grinding against a stone floor. He looked over his shoulder and saw his meager excuse for a meal sitting on the floor of his cell. He would eat later. He turned back over and proceeded to dwell on his most recent dream. The deaths of Lily and James, his worst memories, routinely plagued his mind, and Sirius could do nothing to stanch the flow of misery.