A/N : Hello, hopefully some people are still interested enough to read this. I recommend re reading as I have made a few changes to earlier chapters, chapter 3 in particular.

Those of you who read and are eagerly awaiting the next chapter in Bad Timing, it is coming, I've just been addressing many many issues that story has :o)

I won't take it down, it will continue and eventually I'll post the reworked chapters, I'll try and make it awesome, so until then, please enjoy this chapter.

Thanks for your time.

Chapter Four

Peter Pettigrew had been understandably horrified at the thought of meeting the Dark Lord, the mirror, that wonderful magical artefact, had shown him the path, and Barty Jr was a constant ear worm. Eventually, egged on by his friend's honeyed words, he was ready to take the plunge. The mirror hadn't lied to him thus far, and it was that thought that gave him the courage he never knew he possessed.

Barty had collected him and moments later they stood in a dilapidated muggle graveyard, with gothic stylings. A huge manor house stood on the crest of a low hill and Barty thrust his hands deep in the pockets of his robes and strode off purposefully, whistling tunelessy. By the time they had reached the door, Peter was short of breath and sweating, Barty looked fresh faced. He smiled at his ratty looking companion, took out his wand and tapped on the huge doors, they opened soundlessly.

The house had no doubt been grand in its day, but now damp, years of neglect and nature had taken their toll. The floorboards creaked and squelched as they walked the hallways, Barty threw open a set of sturdy doors and he balked at the scene, the Dark Lord sat on a throne like chair with an enormous snake draped about his shoulders, The entire Ministry's most wanted list was sitting around a huge table like a perverse facsimilie of Christ's last supper.

He jumped at the sound of Barty's voice as he greeted the Dark Lord and presented his guest, chairs scraped the floor as many sat up to take notice. A firm hand pressed into his back as he was urged up to the head of the table. The huge snake roused itself enough to lazily flick his tongue at the newcomer before settling back down.

A jab in the ribs from Barty sharpened his mind and he bowed clumsily, there were a few titters from the Death Eaters. Crouch and Voldemort spoke in whispers, the pale face of their leader smiled and he looked at Peter with much interest. There was no denying that there was an immense power here, a beguiling charisma and if half the rumours were true, an unforgiving cruelty.

The first question from the Dark Lord wasn't unexpected, but it was like a slap to his senses, it roused him from the fog of fear, could he deliver the Potters to him? Yes, but he didn't know for what end. As his nerves began to settle, the Dark Lord told the room about the new developments and how his victory was all but assured. Too long had they been forced to hide while muggles spread like an unstoppable plague, his belief that as a direct consequence of this overpopulation, they were forgetting themselves, losing their power, dying out. He promised to end their decline, had they not already felt a boost to their inherent magical ability since they joined his cause, he promised change and with a conviction that left no doubt that he could deliver, the cost was just three lives, and he made the price seem so very small.

Peter timidly offered his arm and gritted his teeth hard as the skull and snake burned onto his flesh, tears filled his eyes and spilled onto his fat cheeks. The moment was ultimately ruined by the arrival of Bellatrix, she sauntered into the room and then all hell broke loose. He made a mental note to avoid that woman at all costs and try even harder to never slight her in any way, he doubted there was a Death Eater brave enough to speak out of turn again after that display.

Back home, he was frequently visited by Barty, he had no need for the mirror any more, he was to look after it though, a request from the Dark Lord. His new friends taught him incredible magic, even more impressive was his ability to perform it, his magic had gone from mediocre to great and he felt it getting better with each new spell and training session. He was never going to be fit, but his unregistered animagus form would be perfect for fleeing. The spells were geared to his strengths, it turned out that as most would underestimate him, he would have the upper hand if he kept his wits about him.

Sirius stared at himself in the mirror, he was still handsome but the stress was getting to him, a more prominent wrinkle here, a grey hair there, his eyes looked tired. Recruiting for the Order had pretty much flat lined, fear was a powerful tool, unfortunately, not one they possessed. Peter had fallen off the map, James wasn't worried, keeping a low profile wasn't a bad thing. Dumbledore had suggested it as a viable option, after all, who wouldn't believe that the perceived coward had just bottled it and chosen to hide away. It may even be what they need, he knew that he was the obvious choice, the target, he had made plenty of waves, nothing that he felt would have hindered the enemy on a grand scale, but enough to be a royal pain in their arse.

That made him think of Bellatrix, he hadn't heard anything significant off her for a long time, this wasn't unusual, but something was about to happen, he could feel it in his gut, he just hoped that she would be able to make contact with him soon, and if she had news, well, he prayed that there would be enough time to do something about it.

Complete inaction didn't sit well with him, James and Lily were busy being parents, some of the greatest witches and wizards were keeping them safe, yet he couldn't shake the feeling of dread. He wandered through his parents house with a morose expression on his face, the foul mood simmering below the surface came to the fore and he lashed out at his family's hideous house elf, the creature was constantly muttering pure-blood dogma and it was enough to drive anyone crazy.

His thoughts turned to Remus, James was easily his best friend, they had known each other the longest, but Remus was right up there. Dumbledore was being irritatingly vague about his whereabouts. Alastor Moody eventually took pity on him and he learned that he was out amongst the Werewolves. The headmaster was exceptional when it came to putting everyone in harms way and making it sound as simple as walking down the road. He laughed bitterly, Remus wouldn't stand a chance against Fenrir Greyback, yet everyone trusted his manipulations, as hot headed as he was prone to be, he had no desire to confront the old wizard, he hoped it was just worry, tiredness and the all consuming feeling of uselessness he was suffering with.

Thinking about Harry seemed to keep him calm and centred his whirling thoughts, he found it hard to believe that anyone could see a child as a threat worthy of eliminating. He was truly honoured to be his godfather, he had gotten a bit carried away and bought the tiny lad a miniature broomstick. James had loved it, but Lily didn't think it was a good idea, it was perfectly safe, anti fall charms kept him sat as snug as any child's chair, while Lily had been making dinner, they had set him loose, James took pictures, it was a memory he would treasure.

He removed a sheet of parchment from his breast pocket and carefully unfolded it, the letter contained a picture, he watched as the black haired baby whizzed in and out of the picture while James laughed and smiled. Now that the prophecy had allegedly been confirmed he seemed the only person concerned with the safety of the Longbottoms, Minerva had been on his side initially but even Alice and Frank didn't think they were at any greater risk than any other Order member.

He was finding sleep an elusive mistress of late, October had brought the first signs of a harsh winter to come. His breath hung in clouds as he stood outside smoking, a simple warming charm kept him comfortable. On nights when he was restless he would walk to a set of unremarkable garages and unlock the creaking sheet metal doors. Shouldering them open as their hinges squealed in protest, revealed his pride and joy, covered in a thick cover.

The motorbike was huge, suspension springs creaked a little as he sat in the seat, having located the key he took the weight of the bike, kicked back the stand and fired up the engine, it rumbled into life and a twist of the throttle made it roar. London was at her best at night, that's what he thought, cruising through the deserted capital on a black and chrome hog was a bigger buzz than anything he'd experienced so far, and just owning the machine pissed off pretty much everyone he knew.

Sometimes he'd go to a bar, mostly he'd just ride until the first light of dawn, there were women, but the bike was more fun and more reliable than a woman, he said that often, James would smile and shake his head, Lily would admonish him and roll her eyes, the rest of the Order, well, they were happier staying out of it, Dumbledore had tried to intervene but Sirius painted him a picture of alternative scenarios for him letting off steam, and the matter was dropped, the bike, it seemed, was the lesser of many evils.

Voldemort stood looking out of the bay window of the Riddle house. A weak light filtered through the trees and bushes, the cottage still housed the old groundsman, but the enchantments kept him away, he would occasionally watch him tending the graves and garden, age was slowing him but he kept at it. He decided early on that killing him would only cause unwanted attention from whatever the muggles had for Aurors, so he let him be.

A rapturous joy filled every sense, his magic simmered beneath the surface, such power. It was almost time, this was his night, a flick of his bone white wand and the window took on a mirror sheen. Despite his magical experiments he held onto his looks, his pupils were red and his skin pale, but other than that he stood tall and slim, his hair was slicked back. Thus far he had created 6 Horcruxes, and tonight he would defeat death once and for all.

He summoned a thick, black cloak, he pulled up the deep hood and disappeared with a pop. Godric's Hollow was a truly beautiful and magical town, but tonight he wouldn't have time to admire it, he glanced up briefly at the church and set off walking with deadly purpose. It didn't take long to locate the Potter residence, the wards put up no resistance, the door opened at the simplest spell, it was pathetic. The black haired man rose from his seat, wandless, he shouted a warning at the top of his voice, Avada cut him down along with the sound.

His victory was so near, he slowly climbed the stairs, only one door was closed, it opened without resistance. The child gurgled, his mother shielding him from view, the fear on her face evident but her voice remained steady and strong. She pleaded for him to spare her son, offered her life willingly, it was all too easy, the light left her eyes as she thudded onto the carpet.

He moved her body out of necessity and without care, the boy just looked at him, not afraid, curious perhaps, too young to comprehend. He pulled himself up onto his chubby legs and peered over the top of the cot, arms reaching out towards this interesting new stranger. Voldemort had wasted enough time, Aurors would no doubt be on their way soon, he had performed the rite that would complete his seventh and final Horcrux, all that remained was the act. Avada Kedavra...

Bellatrix was sitting alone, she despised inaction, and other than placing a small golden goblet, marked with the Hogwarts crest, within her family vault, she hadn't had anything to do. They were all aware of the Dark Lord's plans, and the instructions had been clear, do nothing and await his triumphant return. For the umpteenth time she pulled back the sleeve of her dress, the dark mark was starting to fade right before her eyes, she didn't know what it meant but it couldn't be good.

Peter Pettigrew stared glumly at the clock, the deed should have been done by now, still he couldn't shake a feeling of unease. With a shaking hand he pulled the dust cloth off the Mirror of Erised, he recoiled in horror as he watched his 3 friends coming for him, he knew that James was dead, how could anyone survive against a wizard as powerful as Voldemort. He fled the room and didn't stop until he was outside in the freezing cold.

He had to see things for himself and after drawing several deep, shuddering breaths, he felt ready for apparition. Peter scurried through Godric's Hollow making sure he kept to the shadows, the Potter residence wasn't far. Nothing prepared him for the sight before him, the house was a ruin, frantically he scrabbled through the rubble, he balked at the sight of James' corpse and tasted bile. The stairs creaked ominously as he climbed, he slowly walked towards the bedroom, no, the nursery, tears stung his eyes, through the blur he could see that it was missing the wall and roof. The cot was intact, Harry was inside it, he looked still, a clatter drew his attention away and to the floor, Voldemort's wand. It felt warm in his hand, it felt just like a wand, he was almost disappointed at the ordinariness of it. A noise drifted up from the street below, he was no longer alone and he could be found here, he stashed the wand along with his own, where once stood a man, there was a rat with beady black eyes, it surveyed the rubble and darted away into the night.

Severus Snape had poured his soul out to Albus Dumbledore, he was grateful that the great wizard had even bothered to turn up, he had begged for his help and promised everything he could. The news of events at Godric's Hollow had reached him quickly, his rationality left him and he'd gone there right away, he thought nothing of the potential Auror presence, he hadn't even bothered to conceal himself.

Through his grief he was surprised the house was still standing, he tripped on the rubble and was sent crashing onto the floor, with dust coating his clothes and face, he pulled himself up the stairs, he went room to room until he found the right one. He wailed loudly in anguish at the state of Lily's body, he dug away the bricks, not caring that his hands were bloody and coated with dust. He cleaned the dirt and blood from her face, healed the cuts caused by falling masonry and collapsed on the floor next to her. Clumsily he pulled her limp body to his chest and held her, he cried and cursed until worn out, then he just sobbed noiselessly, this was how Bellatrix found him.

"Sev?" there was no response, she wasn't completely heartless, but his fascination with Lily Potter was not healthy, but she was hardly in a position to dispense advice about what constituted a healthy relationship. She had always lived on instinct and they were telling her to leave the stupid bastard and get as far away as possible. There was the small matter of the Aurors turning up at any minute, he didn't seem at all bothered, although, why weren't they already here? It unsettled her more than anything, the Order must know by now, Dumbledore would know. There was no time to worry about that now. She tried to coerce Severus into action, she threated and swore, finally she stunned him, levitated his body and apparated them back to Spinner's End.

Sirius was pacing, he found himself doing this a lot lately, he couldn't stand idle any longer. He rode the bike onto the main road and darted down a deserted side road, he gunned the throttle and the bike left the ground and soared over the rooftops. As he came into land he couldn't believe the damage that the Potter's house had incurred, he felt tears stinging his eyes. The familiar figure of Hagrid stood in his path with a giant hand shielding his eyes from the glare of the headlight, quickly he killed the engine.

In the crook of the half giant's other arm was a tiny bundle and he knew that it was his godson, grief was in control and he argued heatedly that Harry should be in his care. Hagrid stood firm, orders from Dumbledore. He knew that it was pointless trying to reason with the huge man, and no Death Eater would think of looking for him with a muggle family. Also he had a feeling that soon he wouldn't be in a position to look after a small child. His last act before leaving Godric's Hollow was to gift Hagrid his bike, he wouldn't be needing it.

Throwing caution to the wind he sent a message to Bella, it was risky, but he kept it vaque, she'd know the meaning. For a brief time he would be free of this all encompassing pain, as a huge black dog things became a lot simpler, he sniffed the air then tore off through the night. The buzz of the flourescent tube lights made his head ache, he rubbed his eyes hard, they felt gritty and sore. In their youth they used to hang out in the rougher parts of London, this greasy spoon cafe had become a popular haunt. He heard her before he saw her, and despite being confronted by a smiling blonde, he knew who she was, she looked completely incongruous, whereas he knew he looked like he'd been sleeping in his clothes for weeks.

"Bella, thank fuck you came, do you have any idea what's going on?"

"The Dark Lord is gone"

"What do you mean gone?"

"There is no trace of him, and look"

She rolled back her sleeve, the dark mark sat ugly on her pale skin, but was completely unmoving and faded.

"Dead?"

"I don't know"

"Listen Bella, I have something I need to do, a feeling, I don't think it will end well for me, I need you to keep the Longbottom boy safe, do whatever is needed"

"I don't understand, why would he matter? the Dark Lord chose"

"I can't explain, please do this for me"

Her mouth was set in a grim line but eventually she nodded and he let out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. He hugged her briefly and then stepped back, he dispelled her glamour so he could see her before he left, she huffed and rolled her eyes, he could tell that she thought him to be a sentimental old fool, but they were close and they were family. Padfoot emerged once more into the chilly night and set off again with purpose.

Albus Dumbledore was feeling every year of his considerable old age, he had never felt so drained, he had an inkling of how Halloween night would unfold, so many schemes in place, it was hard keeping track. He had sent Minerva to Little Whingeing and Hagrid to retrieve the Potter's child from Godric's Hollow, reliable sources had confirmed Harry's survival, that was something at least.

Sirius was not in Grimmauld Place, and Kreacher, the house elf, was delightfully unhelpful. Peter Pettigrew's house was also deserted, he wandered from room to room until he happened upon the mirror. It was an artefact he had heard about, people had wasted away in front of it, but he knew it contained neither wisdom or truth, so many pieces of the puzzle clicked into place seeing it here. He covered it with a cloth and shrunk it down before stashing it in the depths of his robes.

He walked through the house once more, it was more to occupy his busy mind than a quest for clues, there was no sign of a struggle, nothing was broken or out of place. He sat down at the kitchen table to rest, tiredness seemed to weigh heavily on him of late, and this was how Sirius found him.

The rage that had initially fuelled his flight had ebbed, he didn't have any leads, this fact took him to the Pettigrew family home. He crossed the threshold with his wand drawn.

"Albus? What are you doing here? You're lucky I didn't hex you" yet he made no hurry to lower his wand

"Revenge won't solve anything Sirius, you'll end up dying in Azkaban, or worse"

He let out a derisive snort, pocketed his wand and sat down next to the old wizard. They sat there in silence for what felt like hours before Dumbledore began to speak.

"War always brings death and suffering, and this was a war. I manipulated the outcome of the prophecy for my own ends. I know Tom Riddle and I forced his hand, it had to be Harry, I couldn't risk Voldemort's pure blood obsession get in the way of what the prophecy needed. He probably wouldn't have killed the Longbottoms, as they are an old wizarding family with a long history. The loss of Lily and James is a tragedy, but Harry will have a vested interest in destroying the dark arts, mark my words Sirius, Lord Voldemort will return"

"Finding out that Lily and James were betrayed was difficult to accept, now you're telling me that they died so that you would be able to mould their son into a weapon" Sirius was on his feet pacing as he shouted "Be grateful I don't just end you right here, you selfish, meddling old bastard, I'm going to find Peter and I will make him pay, the deaths you have caused, well you will have to live with it"

"I interpreted the prophecy and gave events a nudge"

"Fuck the prophecy, these are peoples lives, you are out of your mind old man, I'm guessing you kept all this to yourself, why are you telling me?"

Sirius drew his wand and pointed it right at the Headmaster's face, his face looked sunken and his blue eyes had none of their usual sparkle.

"Minerva was against it"

"I bet she was, and you still went and did it anyway, Divination is no basis for condemning innocents to death"

"True, but people will rally to a cause where prophecy and destiny have chosen a champion"

"Harry will be that champion?"

"That is my hope, you are quick to criticise prophecy when you seem bent on following your own"

"Hardly, but we all have to go sometime"

"If you kill Peter there will be nothing that can protect you"

"I couldn't give less of a shit!"

"Is your dear cousin aware of your suicidal plan?"

"Leave Bella out of this"

"I can't help but feel that your faith in her is misplaced"

Dumbledore flinched as the chair next to him exploded into splinters, feeling slightly better after channeling his anger,

"Yet that didn't seem to bother you when she was spying for us, she will do what needs to be done when the time comes"

They stared at each other, when Dumbledore looked away Sirius left without another word.

The cold wind cut to the bone and he drew his robes tight around him, it was like a slap to the face, he felt less lethargic, all he had to do was track down his old friend, and from experience he knew this would be no small feat.

Bellatrix had serious reservations about willingly walking into the home of two prolific Aurors, and active members of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix. Sirius wouldn't have asked her to do something that risky without good reason, she would just have to think on it for a bit. With no clear course of action she apparated into the grounds of Malfoy Manor, and walked into the beginning of a violent showdown between her husband, brother-in-laws and Barty Crouch Jr. Her sister and Snape were lurking in the corner, they merely acknowledged her arrival with a look. The gist of the argument seemed to be whether or not the Dark Lord had indeed been vanquished, Lucius was of the opinion that they should do everything they could to maintain a respectable front within the magical community, this was being hotly contested by the others as an act of treachery, as bad as renouncing their very beliefs.

She was already bored with this petty bickering and crossed the room to pour herself a strong drink, Narcissa was showing visible signs of strain, whereas Snape had retreated behind his mask of indifference, but Bella knew that he was far from fine.

She lent half an ear to the bickering, Lucius had a point, they wouldn't be of use to anyone if they had to spend the rest of their lives in Azkaban, and that was providing they avoided the Dementor's kiss. Barty, it seemed, was hell bent on going out in a blaze of glory, and her idiot husband was all for joining him, therefore Rabastan was also on board.

Lucius' supercilious tone was enough to make her grip her drink tighter, it grated on every nerve, but again he took the route of logic, his mistake was asking what exactly the great plan entailed and not hiding his smug satisfaction upon learning that they didn't have one. Secretly she was with Barty, if they all died she would be free, Sirius and Snape would help keep her out of prison, of that she was certain.

To his credit, Lucius managed to buy himself time, more surprising was her husband's agreement to postpone any rash action for at least a month, giving them time to search for signs of the Dark Lord and to allow things to settle down, several Death Eaters had their cover intact within the Ministry, this gave them the best chance. Barty agreed, once the month was out, he made it crystal clear that he would leave no stone unturned, he reckoned the kidnap and torture of key aurors would get him the information he desired, Malfoy's lips were drawn tight and he looked paler than usual, but he agreed, they shook on it, then Barty left.

A month was more than she could have hoped for, she might be able to schedule a meeting with Sirius, it made sense that amidst all the chaos the oath of secrecy would be broken, then perhaps they could formulate a plan. Unfortunately, just over two weeks later, a glance at the front page of the Daily Prophet would ensure that avenue would be permenantly shut to her, Sirius Black had just been arrested for mass murder.

Sirius had spent a solid week searching for any sign of his old friend, being a dog allowed him to commune with some animals. Magical familiars were the easiest targets, the few cats that allowed him near had no news about any changes to the rat population. On several occasions, this seemingly impossible task would weigh on him with such ferocity that he could only function in his animal form.

Mostly he managed to keep his inquiries tightly under wraps, he didn't want his prey to realise that he was being hunted. He had checked in at Ollivander's to see if there was a way he could be tracked by his wand, the ancient craftsman tried to help and Sirius humoured him bt listening to tales of wandlore that dragged on for what seemed like hours. His sources in the Ministry assured him that he was still in Britain, this gave him renewed hope.

The trail was stone cold, sleeplessness and a slight alcohol dependancy had been the cause of his first real slip up. The goblins refused to reveal any information about whether or not the rat bastard had been in to visit his vault, he had grown angry, that quickly turned abusive, subsequently he was thrown out into the street.

As the second week of fruitless searching drew to an end, Sirius received an owl, it was a list of addresses, no signature, no accompanying note. Several he recognised, they were flats above the shops that lined Knockturn alley, one was underlined, he knew the shop well, Borgin and Burke's magical miscellany, purveyors of questionable artifacts and stolen goods, he himself had bought some very useful things from there. This turn of events made him uneasy, for starters he had no idea who his mysterious helper was, or whether they were really trying to help or do him some harm.

There was little point in waiting, Sirius was impetuous and with a slight alteration to the path laid out before him, he could minimise the risk, instead of going to the shop, he would pay a visit to the owner first.

For a man who profited from other people's misfortune, Borgin's private residence was severely lacking in security. With his footsteps muffled and eyes well adjusted to the dark, Sirius made his way upstairs. Havelock Borgin was fast asleep when the aguamenti spell hit him full in the face, he sat up spluttering and cursing. Rough hands dragged him across the room and threw him into a chair, cords bound his arms and legs tight.

He tried to wriggle free but his bonds just tightened, he tried to shout for help but his voice came out at a conversational volume. All of the lights in the room flared into life, unnaturally bright, unable to shield his eyes from the glare, he shut them as firmly as he could. Footsteps moved around the room, another chair was dragged into position and it creaked as his assailant took a seat, by degrees his sight returned, he opened his eyes to face his attacker, needless to say he was surprised.

"You, You're Walburga Black's boy, what is the meaning of this?"

Sirius sat and stared him down.

"I've done you no harm lad, gave you a fair price on several specialty items, this is all just a misunderstanding"

Borgin was fast to turn on his oily charm, Sirius let out a mirthless bark of laughter, the mask that the shopkeeper had put on so efficiently, slipped a little.

"Who is renting that grotty apartment above the shop?"

"What?!"

"You heard me"

The realisation that he wasn't the true target had a profound effect on Borgin, he let out a sigh of relief and even managed a smile.

"What's it worth? I mean, I'm a respected businessman, confidentiality is very important in my line of work, I can't just go giving away the details of my business associates"

"You're a mercenary bastard Havelock, you'd sell your mother if the price was right, tell me what I want to know and you get to live"

The smile on Borgin's face increased, he seemed confident that it was a bluff, he was wrong, each breath became harder to draw, it was like being slowly crushed, he hadn't even noticed the spell being cast, panic took hold and the room began to fade to black, he felt his lips move and then sweet, cool air filled his lungs.

Once the coughing had subsided and the tears streaming from his eyes had stopped enough so he could refocus on the young man before him, he was ready to speak. The mysterious lodger hadn't given his proper name, he had paid Borgin an exorbitant amount for the room and anonymity, but the description could only have been Peter, finally, the traitor was within reach.

In case Borgin had any silly ideas, like tipping his lodger off, Sirius adjusted the bonds and after assuring the man that he'd be free within twenty four hours, lay himself down on his prisoner's bed. Sleep came easy, and when he woke up he felt sharper and refreshed. Before he left, he allowed Borgin food and the use of the facilities.

Peter Pettigrew had no plan, his nerves were completely shot, he had developed an annoying tic on one side of his face from the stress, jumped at the slightest noise and barely slept. Rudimentary potions kept him functioning and he could still manage to eat well enough. He had left his room and browsed the shelves, this was a ritual, the shop, despite its sizable collection of dark magical artefacts, managed a good trade even in the current climate.

He supposed he did it on the off chance there was something that could aid his escape, there was no one he could rely on, nowhere to go, he was a coward but his survival instinct was fierce. The ornate fireplace suddenly roared into life covering the drab interior with an emerald glow. He had jumped, as he always did, even though he had been anticipating the arrival of the owner. When Sirius Black extricated himself from the flames he was rooted to the spot, barely able to let out even the smallest whimper.

His old friend was as stunned as he was, they stood and stared, each wearing a look of complete dumbfoundment. A small glass vial, disturbed by Peter just a moment ago, rolled to the edge of the shelf, teetered on the edge and fell.

The smash was loud in the utter silence, it snapped him out of his immobile state, he shoved the entire shelf over and bolted for it.

Sirius only managed to react once the shelving unit had hit the floor, he scambled clumsily over the wreckage and tore after his quarry. The fat lump wasn't built for sprinting but he had a head start and knew the layout of the shop. He stopped at a junction and just caught a blur of movement to his right, this pursuit would end in his favour but he wasn't exactly in tip top shape either. Ahead lay a door marked as an emergency exit, he barrelled through it into nothingness, with a pull reminiscent of a portkey he found himself disorientated and standing on a crowded muggle street.

Shouts from a few muggles drew his attention, it appeared little Peter was barging his way through the crowd.

Sweat poured down Pettigrew's spine, it was fear and adrenaline that drove him on, but fatigue was winning. The crowd thinned and he slowed, there was nowhere he could hide, an idea popped into his head, he drew his wand and waited. When Sirius' eyes met his, the usually friendly brown eyes of his long term companion shone in triumph.

When he shouted out in anguish, Sirius' expression changed instantly, in front of muggle witnesses he blamed his pursuer for the murder of James and Lily, he had seconds to act before his old friend struck him down.

The first spell blasted the street apart, car alarms screamed, glass shattered, pipes burst, muggles fell bleeding, some may have died, he didn't know or care. The second spell severed his finger, he bit his lip and ground his teeth at the pain, blood dripped into the dust. As a rat, he dived into the burst sewer pipe and disappeared.

A piece of flying debris had cut Sirius above his left eye, his wand was held loosely in his hands and his arms hung limp at his sides. His ears were ringing badly and it was after a time that he recognised the strange noise as his own laughter.

The Aurors and Magical Law Enforcement had arrived, muggles' memories were being modified, the dead and wounded cared for, and several hit wizards had their wands trained on him. A portly man stepped away from a huddle of other wizards, he recognised the name, Fudge, Dumbledore had mentioned him.

He didn't put up any resistance, he didn't acknowledge them at all, he was under arrest for murder, the death of three of his closest friends and countless muggles. Laughing still, the Aurors seemed reluctant to approach, the stunning spell that hit him square in the chest soon fixed that.