Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Since I managed to finish one of the stories in my The Hardest Battle AU (The Blacklisted One| and I am on my way to the end of To Win at Any Cost, I decided to re-upload this story since I regained at least some semblance of control over my fics.

Chapter 1

He did not like Muggle clubs but right now, they were the only place where he could go in his true form without taking the risk of being recognized. And, Merlin, he needed to be around people as a human, otherwise he could soon find himself unable to stop himself from transforming in the middle of the living room of the Burrow and hexing the two idiotic boys into oblivion with one of their own wands. James and Sirius could pass for nice people, compared to these twins. For Merlin's sake, they had tried to transfigure him into a pin-cushion! After that, he felt that he needed to leave the Burrow at least for a while, so he had waited until everyone was asleep and then he had taken Percy's wand and Apparated as soon as he left the house and its Antiapparition wards. The rest of it was easy – a rat had no problem slinking into a Muggle house and taking the billfold of its owner, as well as some Muggle clothes that made him look like a Muggle. And so, here he was, sitting at the bar, drinking whiskey – Firewhiskey was so much better but he had no right to complain right now, – a human for a first time in nine years.

And she was there, too.

No matter how hard he tried, Peter Pettigrew could not help but stare at the woman with long dark hair and olive skin. She and her companion were sitting at the table next to his and he could not hear what they were talking about, nor could he see the man's face. He had his back turned to Peter, but Peter could see the girl's face and that was enough to distract him. She was not Angela, of course she was not, but she pretty much did look like her. The same heart-shaped face, the same deep dark eyes with long lashes, hell, she even seemed to move the same way when dancing like Angela had done once – when she had danced with Sirius. Peter was sure that he'd never met her, yet he could not take his eyes off her. She was young – no more than twenty – and the mere sight of her reminded him of better days, when he still had friends, when he was still a human and not the rat-toy of two thoughtless boys. He drank the last sip in his glass and ordered another whiskey, trying hard not to look at her without much success.

This time, she seemed to notice his staring at her, because she whispered something to the man who was accompanying her. He turned his head, shrank him with a look – and Peter froze. There was no mistaking those bright blue eyes and fair face surrounded by shockingly black hair – the same looks that made the girls at Hogwarts melt at Raymond Lupin's feet in Peter's first year; the gorgeous looks he had inherited from his mother. Peter did not dare to look away for fear that it would attract the boy's attention to him even more. Oh Merlin, did he recognize me? No, there was no recognition in this blue stare. Peter let himself relax a little, but not even a minute later, John Lupin's head turned to him again, almost by its own volition, and Peter found himself trying not to squirm under his gaze.
There was bewildered air around the young man – he had not recognized him, not yet, but he knew he had met him before. Peter realized that sooner or later, John Lupin would find it out and, knowing his parents and living for seven years with his uncle, Peter was sure it would rather be sooner than later. Why things like that always happen to me and me alone? He had removed his disguise for a first time in nine years and he had chanced on John Lupin of all people in a Muggle club no less! The boy was old enough to remember him and when he realized who he was, then a little chat with Remus would be enough for his former friend to realize what had happened with James, Lily, and Voldemort. Remus would probably be able to convince Dumbledore and soon Peter would find himself with not only his two former friends following on his track but every wizard and witch in Britain, and it all would happen by the sole reason that, instead of going to a party in Diagon-Alley, as any self-respecting wizard would do, John Lupin had decided to bring his girlfriend to a Muggle club.

Peter knew what he should do to prevent this from happening. The problem was, could he really do it? John had been a child then; he was nor one of those who had made Peter feel inferior and good for nothing. Merlin, he had helped Remus babysit him for years! More than once, Raymond Lupin had paid the four of them for babysitting John while he and Sylvie were busy studying and later – working. Some of Peter's best memories included the boy in front of him. Could he do it?

While he was leaving the club, he once again felt that John looking on him. Yes, he told himself, transformed and sneaked back in, so he could come near their table and learn what he needed. A face with amber eyes and fair hair suddenly emerged in his mind. I'm sorry, Remus, hethought, but it's a matter of self-preservation.

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Eleanor Peters smiled and took the cup of tea that John handed her. "Thank you, I really needed that."

He sat on the sofa next to her. "To declare my solidarity, I'll have one too."

The girl laughed softly. "John, you hate tea."

"That only proves my love for you," he answered and took a sip of his own cup. "You look tired."

"Because I am." She noticed his concerned face and her eyes softened. "For Merlin's sake, John, I am pregnant, not ill. I should feel tired, that's how these things go."

He stood up and began pacing. Looking at him, the young woman sighed and asked: "You're worried too, aren't you? Talking to your parents."

John shook his head. "Maybe, but only a little. Don't worry, it will be fine. Nor, really, it will be fine."

She did not seem convinced, obviously thinking about her own parents' reaction. He told her that and she nodded sadly. "I knew they would react just like that. After all, they did just the same to Angela all those years ago... not that I remember much of that, of course, I was too young." She looked at her half-drained cup and tried to remember better but she had been only five; all that came to her mind were her father's shouts and her mother's sobs... and later, the tears in her sister's eyes when Angela came to tell her goodbye and explained that they would not see each other for a very long time. Eleanor had tried for years to remember her sister's looks but she had been too young – the time had erased everything. There was only one thing coming to her mind – long hair. For a first time she had seen a picture of Angela in the place they were now – John's grandparents' home. Eleanor's parents had thrown away all photos of their eldest daughter. The girl wondered briefly whether they had done the same with her own pictures, now, when she was guilty of the same crime as Angela.

"Don't worry, Nor," John insisted. "I'm telling you, you have no reason to."

"No, really?" She gave him a half-smile. "We're both nineteen, John! We're still in our Auror training. It's the most inconvenient time for a baby. Hell, how could I forget to take the potion. Just once and it – it happened!"

He stopped pacing and sighed, irritated. "That's not the end of the world. We're going to move our plans faster, Nor. That's all. Early marriages are not unusual in my family. My Dad married Mum the summer he graduated from Hogwarts."

"But it was different, can't you see? Your mother was not pregnant. They will think that I've done it on purpose!"

"I very much doubt it, Nor, and even if they do, what does it matter? You're going to marry me and not them. Once they get to know you, they're going to love you, I can assure you."

She nodded and smiled bravely. He resumed his pacing.

"What's bothering you?" the young woman asked after observing him for a while. "I know it isn't our conversation with your grandparents tomorrow, when they come back from Italy. What is it?"

"That man," John answered. Eleanor looked at him, startled. "The man we saw in the club. The one that didn't take his eyes off you."

"Yes, what about him?"

"I know him. I know I've met him before. I just can't remember his name."

She shrugged and shifted on the sofa, nestling more comfortably against the pillows. "You must be wrong. If you had met him, he would have come to us, not looking at me like that."

"That's another thing that is bothering me," John answered grimly. "Why would he keep looking at you? Are you sure that he did?"

"I am not blind, John," she snapped. "Why would I say that he was looking at me the whole time if he didn't?"

"Something here is not right," John said. "Not right at all."

"Maybe you know him from France, before coming here on exchange program," Eleanor suggested.

"Maybe. Never mind, let's talk about something else."

She smiled. "Maybe you could tell me again your life in France. About your family. I'm very curious."

"There's nothing unusual about it," the young man answered. "You've already met Arion."

"I like your brother, he's a nice boy." Her words were sincere: Arion's sudden decision to visit his brother had given her the chance to meet at least one member of John's family before the introduction that they had planned for three days later, on Christmas day. They would go to France and tell John's parents about their decision to get married and about the baby.

"That he is," John agreed. "Unlike his brother: nobody would have told me that I was a nice boy, you included."

"Well, at age five you were quite... let's say unpleasant."

He laughed. "Yes, it's true. But I kept my word."

"I never said you didn't."

They looked at each other, remembering those early days when they've been playing together as very young children. Her parents had been neighbours of his grandparents, the two of them were the same age, so it was only natural that they had played together a lot. Once, Eleanor had told him that she did not like being called 'Elle' – the nickname that everyone was used to calling her. Since then, John had started calling her 'Nor' –till the day her older sister was banished from their home for refusing to abort Sirius Black's child. Mr and Mrs Peters had been convinced that Remus Lupin, Angela's best friend, had played a part in her relationship with that awful Black boy, so they had stopped any contacts with the Lupins. Therefore, Eleanor was not allowed to see John anymore. They had met once, though, by chance. "I won't forget you," he'd told her. "I'll always call you 'Nor'. And when I grow up, I'll marry you!"

"Everything will be fine," he said again. "You'll see. My parents will support us. Even if they don't approve my decision, they won't refuse us their help."

She stretched her hand, he took it and sat next to her again. "Besides, they know how difficult it is to raise a child when both parents are studying," he continued. "When I was little, I was always with my grandparents or various babysitters. I'll tell you that the babysitters that I loved most were my uncle and his friends – all Hogwarts students!" He laughed. "I adored their summer days of babysitting because they did not know how to deal with a child and they were afraid to death that I might cry or have an angry fit. They were ready to do anything to stop that."

"And of course, you played on that weakness of theirs," Eleanor said dryly.

"Of course I did! It was hilarious. I..." He suddenly gasped and slapped his forehead with his open palm. "Of course! How stupid I am!" He sprung from his seat again and started pacing the room for a third time this evening. "It was him. Eleanor, the man, the man in the club! It was Pettigrew, Peter Pettigrew!"

"Impossible! John, Pettigrew is dead."

"Obviously he isn't. Nor, how many dead men do you know who are used to visiting nightclubs? And no, I'm not talking about Inferi."

She shook her head. "John, you're mistaken and you know that. This man, he might have looked like Pettigrew but you know that it is impossible."

He gave her a nasty glare. "Are you telling me that I am hallucinating? Peter Pettigrew is the one who has obviously risen from his grave but I am the one who is hallucinating?"

Eleanor sighed. "John, be rational," she began patiently. "He was no ghost. I'm telling you that he was a normal man. He was sitting right there, for Merlin's sake, holding his glass with his hand with a missing finger and looking at me..." Suddenly, she stopped when the meaning of her own words dawned on her even before it dawned on John. Pettigrew's body was never found and the biggest part of him that was – it was his finger.

They looked at each other for a whole minute before finally John spoke: "Do you know what that means?"

She nodded. "If we are right, then Sirius Black has been sent to Azkaban for a crime that never took place."

6