Those words sounded vaguely criminal, mainly "on the run" "crew" and, more tellingly, "his organization." Sirius's eyes narrowed for a brief moment as he looked closer at Saturday.

Then his thoughts shifted back to Pettigrew.

"If they don't send me back to Azkaban, I will." Sirius's eyes gleamed at the thought. He'd hunt Pettigrew down until he had his hands on his throat. He'd worry about how he'd track him later.

Of course the key word was if he didn't get sent back to Azkaban.

He snapped out of his own thoughts. "Did your friend get Johnson?"