'Not long now. Lucius' trial will be starting soon,' Peter thought to himself, causing him to check the train clock to see that it was fast approaching eleven o'clock, the appointed start time of the highly publicized trial. 'Finally, I'll be able to do some good, if they don't kill me first,' he thought darkly to himself, his heart starting to beat faster and faster at the thought, to the point it felt like his heart was going to explode in his chest.
He knew how his former dark comrades dealt with traitors, how they would deal with him if they got a hold of him, but he pushed his fears to the side and instead tried to keep calm as he neared ever closer to his moment of judgement and hopefully redemption in the eyes of the world. He really liked the idea of having a single moment of well-earned glory, a chance to set the record straight, to do some good.
He felt the dark mark angrily pulse on his left arm, a shiver of pain that reminded him of what he had done, of his crimes, of the people he had betrayed in the quest for power. A part of him wondered what would happen to him the moment he betrayed his lord by denouncing the dark lord in open court. How would the magical vow he had taken over a decade ago react? Would he die instantly, right there on the stand? Or would it be a slow, agonizing death?
'A slow agonizing death,' another part of him answered fearfully, knowing that would be just how the dark lord would like it, to send a message, the rat instincts inside him telling him to run.
'A griffindor is brave, fearless,' he recited calmly to himself, taking courage in the words his dead mother once spoke to him decades ago in preparation for boarding the Hogwarts Express, his tired mind turning back to his happy childhood to hold together his remaining resolve.
'How did I fall so far?' he asked himself, wondering what had happened to cause him to fall so far as to betray his childhood friends, his brothers in all but blood. Looking down at his hands, it was like he could almost see their blood upon them. He looked away from them in shame, causing him to look into the train carriage's window only to see his polyjuice created face looking back at him in the darkness.
Despite the face staring back at him not being his own, overwhelming guilt and sadness were plain on his exotic features. As he considered his fate, he wondered what his ancestors thought of him now. His inner rat voice got louder as the train rumbled, telling him to run and hide, to run back to the safe house that Dumbledore had provided for him in Italy and wait for the old wizard to return. But he was so tired of running, of always hiding, tired of serving others at the cost of his own happiness, of always having to be on guard, of always having to look over his shoulder looking for any sign of the bounty hunters and aurors that hunted him, of always having to use polyjuice whenever he dared to walk amongst other magicals, since he lacked the skill to use a glamour charm.
It was at that moment that the train left the channel tunnel and darkness gave way to daylight, allowing him to see the familiar scenery of his country of birth. The many mismatched green trees and bushes that lined the train tracks were a welcoming sight after almost a month overseas in the dry heat of southern Italy. Italy had been a fine country, with wonderful weather if you didn't mind the dry heat and the sun, but at the end of the day, it still wasn't home. He didn't understand their tongue, nor their odd customs, and their food was far too exotic for his taste, and at the end of the day he was an outsider, a stranger, and it seemed they all knew it somehow despite his best efforts to blend in and appear as one of them.
"The train will be arriving in London in 15 minutes time, please make sure you take all your personal belongings with you at that time," a feminine voice announced over the train's speakers, before shifting to French and making a similar announcement, causing his heart to start pumping in overtime as he felt a panic attack coming on.
Reaching into his coat pocket, his hands shook violently as he felt the curious eyes of several other passengers resting upon him. He pulled out a small vial of clear, sky blue liquid, before uncorking the bottle whilst ignoring their combined stares and quickly downed the calming potion. The potion's effects were instantaneous; a relaxing wave of calm washed over him, his hands stopped shaking, his heart calmed down by a noticeable amount and his breathing eased.
It was at that point that he remembered the group of curious muggles watching him intently, several of them eyeing the now empty vial. "Medicine for my heart, got a bad ticker," he offered to the watching group, his reason being easily accepted as they turned their attention away from him and back to their own business. He sighed in relief that his excuse had been accepted, this saved him from having to memory charm them, which would have likely caused other problems given his lack of skill with the spell. He allowed himself to sink back into his seat again and closed his eyes for a few moments.
A few minutes later he felt the train begin to slow down, his animal senses feeling the brakes being applied beneath him. 'Keep it together. Soon you will redeem yourself as a Griffindor and do some good for once,' he recited to himself, but felt no emotion or excitement at the thought on account of the potent potion he had taken. The muggle train gently pulled into the station without fanfare, the passengers around him standing up and collecting their belongings. He made to follow them, rather than stand out by walking alone. There was anonymity in being a part of a group.
That was something that he had learned well over the years in hiding; single people stood out far more than groups did. By simply stepping in time with a group he would appear uninteresting, non-threatening, thus meeting unconscious expectations, especially if the group he joined made no fuss about him. There was also the fact that the calming draught he had taken ensured that he would be calm and collected, rather than nervous and jumpy looking, which would again draw the attention of the border guards looking for any questionable travellers. He continued with the group for a few minutes more until he spotted a spot shrouded in shadow, a place he could use to apparate away. He would have preferred to use a port-key or the floo, since his first experience with apparition had resulted in him leaving his arm behind, but neither option was available within the muggle station. Resigning himself to apparition, he focused his mind on his desired destination.
Thankfully, due to the calming potion he had just taken, it proved far easier to focus on where he desired to go than it normally would have been. He pulled and twisted his magic around him to encase him in a protective cocoon of magic, before he popped, darkness engulfing him for a few moments before he reappeared in an alleyway just outside the Leaky Cauldron, just as he desired.