Run.

That was the first thing he learned, and that's the only thing he cared to remember. Always run. Never stop running. It felt good to run. When you run, you leave everything behind you. All you can feel is the air meeting you, greeting you, wrapping you around in a hug. When you run, it almost feels like you're flying. Running made him feel free. Run from restrictions. Run from authority. Run from pain. Run from thought. Run from worries. Just run.

Second thing? Never trust anyone.

People always wanted something for themselves and even if you don't want to give it to them, they take it anyway. They weren't trustworthy. Whenever someone seems to be looking at him, he turned another direction. If there's a police somewhere he goes elsewhere. If a person becomes too nice to him, it meant they wanted something from him. After all, when was the last time anyone did anything nice just for the sake of it?

Be invisible.

He blended in with the crowd. Like a ninja, one moment he's in that place the next moment he's someplace else. He never stayed in a public place too long. To be recognized would be a big mistake for him. He knew early on, from his old place, that being unnoticed was better than being noticed. People who don't see you, don't bother you.

Ring Ring Ring

He heard the school bell ring. It was a good time; with winter break about to start it would be a while before he got an opportunity like this again. Calculatedly, he walked the busy streets that was scattered with school children all making their way home. Turning at the right time, moving his hand with trained precision, he has done this many times before.

To the normal bystander, he looked like a normal student, but instead of books inside his worn out backpack, it was being filled with wallets. He knew that students often carried money with them and it was easier to run away from them if caught. They were stupid enough to not keep their belongings safe so he didn't feel much remorse over what he does, after all it was survival. He knew the students never really had to work for the money they had in their wallets, and that it would only be replaced again by their parents.

When you got nothing, you know nothing. All he knew was to survive. The basic instinct of every living creature: survival.

What good is money to the dead? The streets weren't exactly filled with kind people, he knew that. Gangs, druggies, murderers, dealers, and petty thieves like himself flocked the pavements every day. Survival instincts must be mastered if one were to live out in the streets. And that's what he has done.

Thankfully he had found a safe haven in a little basement that seems to possess some sort of power. No other person out there can see it. Ones he enters the little hole on the side of the building it's like he vanishes. Even if someone was hot on his trails, somehow they just can't find him anymore when he's there. It had no electricity, no running water, no windows, and no doors but even in the coldest winter or the harshest rain, the place kept him dry and warm. It was the size of a small bedroom, not that he'd ever own a bedroom, and was just enough for him.

He would not lie, it did get lonely. Especially at night when it was quiet with no one there, even in the company of his stray companions weren't enough. Like any other person out there he had dreams. It would be bollocks if he would say that he's never wished for a family, a life like the ones those students had. It was only natural of him to want it, after all what child wouldn't want that kind of life. He knew it was impossible, because he already had a 'family' and they didn't even want him. But still, in the dead of the night when all that's awake are the scurrying rats and the hooting owls, he would dream of a place with a nice little family looking for him.

But dreaming wouldn't feed his rumbling stomach. He had enough loot. It would supply him for maybe a couple of weeks if he didn't spend a lot. With the prices going up sometimes it just wasn't enough anymore. As soon as he reached his growth spurt he was going to go find a job, but while he was still a scrawny kid, people would ask too many questions.

The little store round the corner was the perfect place. The old man there doesn't care much about whom you were or what kinds of clothes you wore, and it was shady enough for people not to linger but big enough for him to find good food. His house had a makeshift stove he placed in what seemed to be the house's chimney so it wasn't difficult for him to cook. He knew how to cook; he knew how to cook really well.

He lit up the fireplace, stuffing paper, wood and charcoal inside. The weather was getting colder and colder each day. It was already snowing, and Harry had thankfully managed to knick enough money to buy a few large blankets. He didn't think it would have been easy to steal them, it being so large and him being so skinny.

He sighed as he looked at his empty little place. It was going to be another quiet night; even the critters have left for the night. He looked outside from the tiny hole he uses to get in, he could see different shoes passing by; shoes that belonged to people who were making their ways to their families; families like the ones Harry longed for. Christmas was coming, such a sad occasion for him, there was no one to spend it with. It was going to be another long quiet night, alone.

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Remus was tired, understatement, he was very exhausted.

He sighed as he looked at the girl in front of him. She looked rather shaken at being caught. He had caught her in Hogsmeade, on a weekday, when he decided to visit the Three Broomsticks. It was rather common for students who were fifth year above, but not quite so for a girl who was just a second year.

"How did you get out?" he asked her. He did not want her to get into too much trouble since it would be hypocritical of him to go hard on someone who did the exact same thing he used to do as a student. He knew about the Weasleys and their knack for trouble, especially the twins, but he had not heard much about the youngest.

She crossed her arms and refused to answer. Remus pinched the bridge of his nose, the full moon was coming and he was in bad need of rest. "There's a killer on the loose," he reminded her. It broke a piece of his heart to even remind himself of this, considering that the killer was his best friend. He repeated the question.

She didn't look like she was going to say anything, but she opened her mouth after a while, "A map,"

Remus glanced sharply at her, "A map? What kind of map?"

"Promise you'll give it back," she told him, "I'll show you if you promise you give it back,"

It was quite a demand for her to make, and it stunned him that she'd make one at all since he was the professor and she was a student who was caught out of bounds on a school night. But he agreed nonetheless, he needed to see the map.

She produced a parchment from her pocket and showed it to him. He suppressed a gasp, he knew that map. He made that map.

She took her wand and tapped in, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,"

Remus' eyes widened as he heard the familiar words. She did not need to say them for he knew all too well how that thing worked. Her words only brought memories that he had long tried forgetting, memories of his friends who have all left him behind. Those memories about a boy who would one day grow up to betray them.

He took the Marauder's map from her and inspected it, finding it exactly as he remembered it, if not a bit worn out. A preservation spell would fix it.

"I said I would give it back, Ms Weasley, but I never said when," he said coyly. Technically it was his, considering he was the last living marauder that counted.

She stared at him, not with anger, but with begrudging respect, "When are you giving it back then?" she asked.

"In the spirit of Christmas I won't be giving you detention and I'll give this back at the end of the year, if, and only if, I don't catch you out of bounds,"

"If you don't catch me out of bounds?"

He nodded and watched as she made her way out of his office. He smiled at her emphasis of catch. He knew she would go out again; she just had it in her blood to break the rules. She was exactly like a certain pair of people he knew.

"Oh and Ms Weasley," he called before she could leave. She paused and turned to his direction. "Just wondering, what on earth were you doing out of bed?"

She gave him a coy smile, "Why Professor, I was up to no good,"

He let out a laugh as she left. The fatigue subsided.

The map on his hand took his attention; he had not seen that since an incident with Peter and Filch on their seventh year. The map was confiscated and they never saw it again, until now. He checked on the Weasley girl to see if she did make her way back to the dorm. She did.

His eyes travelled to the other rooms of Gryffindor. The room that he had used when he was a student was occupied the next generation. He glanced at a few of the names sadly; one of them was Ginny Weasley's brother Ron. Harry was supposed to be in his year had he not gone missing and is presumed dead. It disheartened him to think about what had happened to his best friend's son. Had Remus only managed to get custody of him then this would not have happened. But alas, Harry, for some reason, disappeared from the Dursleys at the age of eight and has not been heard from since. The ministry, Dumbledore and most certainly, Remus, had no clue where the young boy may be or whether he was even alive.

Remus' eyes moved towards a name next to Ron's. It was a name that did not belong there, it was a name that did not belong anywhere in the map. It was the name of a dead person. But that's impossible right? But, the map is never wrong…. Right?

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Twelve years, twelve miserable years. And for what? Just to find out the boy he wanted to protect is probably dead? He would kill the rat. He would kill the rat even if it meant getting kissed. Oh he'll make sure the rat pays for it and pays for it well.

He heard the floor boards creaking. Someone was inside. But who? No one should know how to get inside, minus of course Remus, Dumbledore and Snape. It was odd for them to come now, not after all those months of him staying there. If they knew they were there it would mean the end of his plans.

The footsteps were getting closer. Sirius his behind the door and had his wand ready. He inhaled slowly to calm himself. The door squeaked open. It was his old friend Remus Lupin.

"Sirius?" he called out.

"What do you want?" Sirius replied, poking Remus in the back with his wand.

Remus put his hands up in a surrendering motion. "I know what happened Sirius," he turned to face Sirius, there was a smile in Remus' face, not at all what Sirius expected, "I caught Peter,"

Sirius was escalated; he dropped his guard and hugged Remus, who returned it just as enthusiastically. They hugged as if twelve years hadn't passed by at all. They laughed and cried as the pain left them. Sirius was glad to have someone finally believe him.

"I found the map," Remus explained, "I confiscated it from a student and I was looking through it. Then I saw his name, and I thought it was impossible, but you know as well as I that the map doesn't make mistakes. So I went to the Gryffindor common room and sneaked into the boy's dormitory, where I saw him. He was asleep and it was dark, but I knew it was him. How could I not?

"So I placed a charm to keep him sleeping and I took the cage and made my way to Dumbledore. I explained to him everything. He did look surprised at what we did when I told him, I mean, it's not every day a few students manage to become animagi and sneak out with a werewolf not is it. But he listened and at the end of it I cast a spell on the rat and what do you know, out popped Peter.

"We interrogated him and found out the real event of that night. Dumbledore bounded Peter, to make sure he doesn't escape, and he called Fudge. His working out your pardon right now and by tomorrow it should be all over the papers. I checked the map and saw that you were here. I figured, I should come see you."

Sirius was dumbfounded, "So, I'm free?"

Remus nodded, "There's a few papers waiting for your signature, the ministry's offering compensation for what happened, but yeah, you are free,"

When Sirius stepped out of the old damaged Shrieking Shack and looked at the outline of Hogwarts, he smiled. He was a free man.

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Meanwhile, in another part of the world, a scrawny boy with messy long locks of ebony hair and vivid green eyes woke up from a nightmare consisting of a screaming woman and a flash or bright green light.

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A message from TemperedRose:

First off, just to clarify, this is a rewrite/reinvention of Street Rat. I wrote that story ages ago and looking back I want to vomit when I see how horrible it is. I know that this one is probably not perfect, but I think it's better than what I wrote five years ago. The story is going to be different and the only similarity is that Harry was missing and found in the streets.

Second, I hope you enjoyed reading it and would be so kind as to leave me with a review. Have a nice day