A/N: From the day he was born he was not mine. Now back to the good part!

Sirius had his wand out and aimed. There was no way Wormtail could escape. It would be inconceivable, and he knew what that word meant. Then again Sirius was blessed with a tad of overconfidence so maybe he didn't. Sirius wanted to be sure he'd capture the bastard so he picked a quick to incant spell. He flicked his wand up and shouted "STUPE..."

Wormtail was not having a good day, he was mostly only ever motivated by fear. Fear that he'd pee his pants out of fear--did that make him wise enough to fear "fear itself"? James had always been so nice to him, and Lily was nice to everyone, betraying them was hard. But what could he do? Fight an indomitable Dark Lord? What good would it do if another wizard bit the dust? Per Wizarding Wireless, James and Lily died fighting him. If even they died to the Dark Lord, what chance would he have? He even tried to run from him at first, but once caught--it was over.

Now, however, by some horrific miracle the Dark Lord had died (and sure he had Horcruxes) but that could take years to figure out how to use. You'd have to bring all the components together in some esoteric dark ritual which he certainly didn't know. He could leave that to some more capable and enthusiastic Death Eater. For now the rat had to worry about his next predator--the Dog. Only he was likely to know who really betrayed the Potters.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go at all. He was to be richly rewarded for his loyalty. He deserved some quid pro his quo. His musings were put to a hold, however, when he glimpsed not just the Dog, but two red-robed aurors with him!

He evaded death, and maybe cruciatus, from his master's hands, but now...It was out of the frying pan and into the soul freezer. This was not the type of quid he was hoping for...

The original plan was that after the Potters would die he'd hole up in the Death Eater stronghold over at Lucius' until the Dark Lord sorted out Sirius and any other dogooders who might give him trouble. But Lucius was long gone. He claimed Imperius and wanted nothing to do with any Death Eaters. The Death Eaters had no loyalty to their fellows, just their now "dead" master.

With no sympathies and a whole lot of enemies, he knew he had to practice. While not exceedingly talented or powerful, fear was a great motivator and he had practiced his quick draw animagus transformation to be nearly instant. If he had to guess depending on the room he would probably be fastest to transform in the whole wide room. He probably could mousify faster than anyone in the whole wide street.

Dawlish was scared. He wasn't prepared for this. To succeed he would need to be calm and confident. He would need cranberry vinaigrette? No that definitely wasn't it. He was supposed to have life handed to him--he was a pureblood.

He coasted through life, never working too hard, reading too much or putting his neck on the line, yet he was far from planning out schemes to rise to the top. Nevertheless, he was hardworking and ambitious enough to pass all his exams and qualify for Auror training. If only life were like the exams, he could breeze through it. He was lucky to have Moody as a partner giving him real life experience.

When it came to using spells under low pressure he was pretty top, just battles were intimidating, so much happening so fast. His wife was pregnant and he needed this job. Time to do something he nearly never had to do so far, and really hanker down.

He grabbed his chin with his right hand in deep concentration and he got it! "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" He remembered proudly shouting loud enough that many nearby muggles turned their head. Coincidentally, Sirius was flicking his wand at that same moment.

As the calming draught wore out he experienced a bit of an opposite effect. Before he was calm like a bomb. Now he was more like an exploding bomb--a bit paranoid, irritable and distracted. While mid-spellcast, he couldn't help but turn back as he felt an elbow knock him in the head slightly. Was he surrounded by Death Eaters? Someone seemed to be screaming right at his head.

He continued the spell, but the pronunciation was all wrong now. "STUPEHHHFY" it turns out couldn't knock out a fly and it needed to hit something bigger--a rat.

Wormtail didn't look a gift horse in the mouth. He yelled "Sirius was the Secret Keeper!" Fudge turned his head in concentration as well as the rest of the muggles on the block who were curious to see some drama, though were confused about "secret keeper".

The muggles, not already late for work, gathered around the four wizards. Some gasped at the strange demeanor and dress of the four men confrontation. Was it going to be a street show with Acrobatics? Maybe Juggling? Particularly noticeable was a presumably old man with a walking stick, a scarred face, a glass eye, and a wooden leg (named Smith?). But any of the four grown men were notably acting like excited toddlers holding their twigs.l

Before anyone could process Wormtail's words he had made a slashing motion with his wand across the tip of his south paw and silently cast DIFFINDO. Sucking in the pain from his bleeding finger stub, he twisted his arm and stabbed directly down and away from Sirius. He poured nearly all his magical energy into the spell, and envisaged the spell wreaking massive havoc. He yelled, "CONFRINGO!" And didn't wait around to see the results.

He stashed his wand as he transformed into his true form. Finally, Wormtail scurried away into a storm drain on the nearby curb. With all the dust and rubble, nobody should notice a small rat.

Now ensconced in a modicum of safety, he reflected on his escape, and immediately regretted everything. He had practiced this escape and played it out in his head dozens of times since Lucius had first kicked him out. He took comfort in his overall success, but wasn't sure his ruse worked with Sirius so close to the two Aurors.

At least nobody would believe I'd cut off my own finger, and the blast seemed powerful enough to leave a crater. I hope it'll be believable that I blew up so completely. It's not my fault there were two Aurors flanking him. I had to do something. Maybe I should have provided more context and jumped towards Sirius so the angle of attack would look like it came from Sirius. Ultimately, he escaped and that was not too shabby.

Moody had to give Dawlish credit for remembering his catchphrase. It made him real proud to indoctrinate the youth. But he also was just standing around looking confused as dangerous spells were firing near muggles. Unfortunately, he hadn't the time to whack him over the head with his cane.

He instantly recognized that twisting wand movement from one of the men, having been primed about the Confringo spell. If nobody stopped this, there would be mounds of paperwork--the threat to the statute of secrecy, the muggles killed and all on his watch. Getting as close as possible to the men, he shot his wand up to the sky and envisioned protecting everyone outside of the dome and himself then yelled quickly, "PROTEGO MAXIMA!" He finished right as Pettigrew finished "GO!" Immediately a white and blue dome descended from the sky down to the street. The thickness and power of the Protective spell, demonstrated why Moody ranked one of the most powerful Aurors of all time.

It glowed beautifully in the sunny day, and the birds were chirping "Twiddalie di". Fudge and Dawlish weren't sure what to make of anything, though there were signs that they were processing the events.

The Confringo ricocheted off the just forming wall of the Protego Dome. The massive firey light of the spell glowed considerably dimmer and shrank. Nonethess, it ripped a massive crater in the floor before bouncing off Moody's wooden leg blasting it apart then off Sirius' dragon hide boot ripping a hole through them, in a worn out section. It left a bloody and burnt wound right above his toes. From there it bounced up further weakened.

It still had enough power to rip through Sirius' robes and showing off his Weird Sister briefs and singeing his once artistically manscaped and braided landing pad.

The confrontation now over, Moody got his chance. He hobbled over on 1 foot and smacked Dawlish over the head with a slightly bloody hand holding his cane.

Fudge, finally gathering his wits, decided to spring into action against the obvious perpetrator! "INCARCEROUS!" He incanted pointing his wand at Sirius. Didn't they hear? He was the secret keeper... and that means he's guilty of something probably!

"This blood traitor must have betrayed the pure blood, James Potter, and given them up to You-Know-Who as their secret keeper in the Fidelius Charm!" He explained to an angry Alastor and Dawlish maybe?

Sirius began laughing hysterically while also crying--it really was all his fault. James was his best friend and his little prank to trick the Dark Lord backfired completely.

Alastor's tolerance for Blood Purists was at all time low. He'd lost too much recently in Death Eater battles. He had recently lost his partner and way too many competent Aurors and friends. He had no patience for blubbering arrogant idiots like Fudge.

"Let's get him straight to Azkaban for what he did to poor Mr. Pettigrew just now, and the betrayal of the Potters! The man's a raving lunatic. Besides all that we have to attend to obliviating these muggles immediately." He was doing great taking charge and getting things done, so he put his wand away and physically patted himself on the back.

Sure Alastor had probably saved 20 lives, but if it weren't for me, the statute of secrecy would be breached and they'd let Sirius get away. I probably deserve an Order of Merlin 2nd class perhaps first class, I'll see what my trusted friend, Umbridge, can do for me.

The man just didn't know how to stop digging a deeper grave for himself. Moody decided to serve him a lesson coldly. Although, plenty of clues made accusing Sirius outrageous, Moody decided to hold back and see how this went. The angle of attack, fact that Sirius was in the middle of casting a different spell, and the lack of the body made it a dubious case for the prosecution in the Wizengamut. In fact, Moody was pretty sure that the same voice which blamed Sirius was the one that yelled Confringo. There was questionably sufficient evidence to support questioning Sirius, let alone arresting, trying or directly sending him to Azkaban.

Seeing the ire on his partner's face John thought quickly. "Well, sir, you are Cornelius Fudge, of the magical catastrophe office, correct?" Upon his nod, he continued. "I believe the voice of the person using Confringo may have actually have been different from Sirius' voice as he said the spell. Earlier today, I heard Sirius yell the spell and it was a a lower pitch."

"I mean you saw they were arguing, and look--all that's left of Pettigrew is his finger. Black's spell blew up Pettigrew and the street. We don't have time for trials, there are too many Death Eaters to try at the Wizengamut already to deal with an open and shut case like this. In any case, the most pressing thing for us at the moment, is to get the obliviators here immediately." He stated with utmost authority and undue pomp.

John Dawlish could do that. John thought to himself, and again cast "EXPECTO PATRONUM" and imagined his cute little animal shooting over to the department of obliviators. Calling for help, he didn't need to provide their location, as there were maps showing the location of Aurors available at the ministry.

Deciding to make a mockery of Fudge, especially after he used the term blood traitor, Moody decided to play along nicely. Or at least that's how he started "Yes, Mr. Fudge, I agree we should certainly consider what Pettigrew said before he seemed to vanish. Sirius is certainly a suspect, but THERE'S A SMALL ISSUE THAT PROTOCOL MUST BE FOLLOWED!"

The shouting must have taken a lot out of him as he leaned down, gripping his cane for support, and said in a considerably more feeble voice, "Now that the Obliviators are on their way, I hope you don't mind if we collect just a bit of evidence. Let's consider it a training exercise for our young Auror in training. First, since we have a suspect available, see if he's willing to offer his wand to potentially clear his name."

At this point Alastor stumbled from blood loss, and pain that he had held back. Sirius dropped his wand from within the weak and loose incarcerous. They all watched as Dawlish cast priori incantato and Moody resisted passing out from pain and blood loss. The spell revealed spells with decreasing clarity.

- Point me on Peter Pettigrew

- Apparation to outside of Tom's pub.

- Aguamenti into a glass round cup.

- Accio on some sort of yellow candy out from something purple.

- Apparation to the entrance of a small townhouse in London

- Vanishing spell cast on some sort of cloth? A Lacey cloth?

In short, hardly anything interesting. While this would almost entirely clear Sirius' name Moody wanted to see if he could have Fudge take the bait and demonstrate his incompetence in front of the Wizengamut. "Well, that should at least buy Sirius a trial. It certainly doesn't clear his name, he may have used wandless magic or some other means to get Pettigrew. He also might still have betrayed the Potters."

Fudge, sputtered and began to explain a potential excuse for wanting to throw the man in Azkaban without even checking his wand, but he was spared by members of the Oblivator squad. They arrived wearing the tell-tale Muggle-tailored black tuxedos, with black shiny shoes, black ties and black sunglasses.

Fudge, as head of Magical Catastrophes, pointed to the crowd of muggles and helped craft the story that a strange gas leak was discovered and was being repaired. The obliviators compelled the muggles to stare at a bright white flashlight while the magicals in black silently cast obliviate on each of them.

A healer was dispatched to care for Moody, and Sirius was taken to a holding cell, with a trial date set for a few weeks in the future.