The Missing Marauder

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Harry Potter stepped off of the Hogwarts Express with the rest of the third years, moving quickly through the rain towards one of the many carriages and climbing in. His unruly black hair had been flattened to his head from the rain, circles classes splotched and smeared as he tried to dry them on his Gryffindor robes. His emerald green eyes lifted from his lap as he slipped his glasses back on, eyes glancing between his two best friends; Hermione Granger, a girl with bushy brown hair and soft brown eyes, and Ron Weasley, a boy with red hair and blue eyes. The two were all Harry believed he had, his "home" life with the Dursleys not quite being what most would say comfortable.

He had spent almost his whole life with the family of Muggles, continuously mistreated simply for the fact that he had abilities that they didn't. On his 11th birthday, he had found out he was a wizard after a burly man named Hagrid barged into the Dursley house after a rather long endeavor to escape the Hogwarts acceptance letters. From there, he discovered that his parents had been rather prestigious in life, though had been killed by the most powerful dark wizard of the time, Voldemort. And his lightning scar? Yeah, that was from the wizard trying to kill him after killing both of his parents. He had been the only survivor of such a curse, which had made him become what most would call "The Chosen One" and "The Boy Who Lived."

Of course, the title came with a rather large downside. In his first year, he had the severe misfortunate of personally meeting Voldemort in the flesh. Hogwarts had become home to a stone known as the Sorceror's Stone, a stone that produced the elixir of life that provided total immortality to those that used it. Voldemort had attempted to steal it in an attempt to return to power, though Harry had been fortunate enough to burn the body he was using to the point where it crumbled to ash.

In his second year, he had once again attempted to return, but this time through the power of an enchanted diary. He had taken control over Ron's sister, Ginny, and forced her to open a chamber deep within the castle that attempted to kill all those that were not pureblood. He discovered the chamber and managed to kill the beast with the magical Sword of Gryffindor.

Now, here he was in his third year, and just the train ride to Hogwarts had been eventful. Terrifying creatures known as dementors had entered the train and, when they reached the compartment Harry had been in, tried to suck all the happiness out of him. He had, however, heard the screams of a woman in the distance, despite no one having screamed.

His thoughts were broken by the slight jerk of the carriage coming to a halt, signaling the three to get off. As they made their way through the side entrance of the school to the Great Hall, Harry couldn't help but think of the warning he had received from Ron's father when he reached the Leaky Cauldron. Sirius Black, the man who had betrayed his parents and was the reason they were dead, had escaped from imprisonment at Azkaban (the very high-security wizard prison) and was after him. He had wanted at least one normal year, though he highly doubted that he would actually get one.

His thoughts rolled those thoughts in his head as the first years were sorted into their houses, Dumbledore giving his annual "beginning of the year" speech. His thoughts scrambled as they were sent to the dorms, keeping him as he stared out at the stormy weather beyond his window. He spent the next weeks in a blur of Quidditch practice and meeting with the DADA professor, Professor Lupin, who taught Harry how to fight against the dementors that had been taunting him since the train ride.

It wasn't until he had attempted to sneak to Hogsmeade that things began to get interesting for Harry as the Weasley twins whisked him into a side room, handing him a piece of parchment that had to be the one thing that would help; the Marauder's Map. When the two tapped the map, lines filled the once blank parchment that was a perfect map of the entire castle, footsteps with names to label them showing exactly where every person in the castle was.