Rating: T for lots of swearing; Some mild content I suppose.
Warning: Male/Male - Sirius/Remus
Reason: In honor to all the LGBTPQQ that have been committing suicide, and anyone who's going through those issues currently - wishing the best.
Disclaimer: I'm not JKR, don't own this, or settings, or whatever, all the bull. Also, I have a few quotes in there from Nineteen Minutes, so if you've read it before - DON'T SUE ME - I gave credit.

Summary: Remus always laughed a little too loud or too late ; too oblivious to the fact that he was the one being laughed at. He's gay, and gay isn't tolerated at Hogwarts. He's bullied, harassed - he can only take so much. Sirius wants to do something, but he doesn't want the same happening to him. What if he helped? What if he came out like Remus did? Life was what happened when all the what-ifs didn't.

A/N: Oh yeah, it's an A/U, kind of. Again Remus isn't a Marauder .. I'M SORRY ! ;_; I wanted to make him one desperately, but it just didn't work /:
I promise anyone who stuck around to read this that this story will be epic and eventually finished. I want to make this one of the best ever to remember - You know, when you list some of your favorite stories, I hope I'm mentioned in there :3

Ps: Thanks to my wonderful beta HPJellicleCat

When you were different, you couldn't expect people to look at you the same way they looked at those who were normal.

You were a sinner - a sinner lost in a crowd of saints.

You never had someone cross the street because of your skin color. You've never had someone look at you with disgust because you're holding a baby, but you forgot to put on your wedding ring. You want to do something about it - take action, scream at them, tell them they're idiots - but you can't. Being on the fringe is the most disempowering feeling. You get so used to the world being a certain way, there seems to be no escape from it.

It's not like he chose to be like this; to be a monster. Frankenstein wasn't just born. A once normal boy didn't turn into a serial killer, unless someone turned him into one. Lord Voldemort for example.

What about being gay? As if he decided to find guys more attractive than girls. It's not like he was particularly excited. Curious, sure - did a beard scratch when you were making out? - and he wasn't repulsed by male on male, but he couldn't say with any great conviction, that that was what he wanted to try, too.

But it was enough to ruin his life. What if he never told them? What if he just acted like them?

Acting - his second-nature.

Before, he wasn't sure how he was supposed to 'act' - but that's what he would be doing: acting; anything else would have cracked the frame of 'what-if '. He learned from the mistake. He adjusted to how he was supposed to be to everyone else - if only he knew that 3 years ago.

Life was what happened when all the what-if's didn't – when what you dreamed, hoped, or feared might come to pass - passed.

Remus' POV

Get in - get out. Make it to the Great Hall, eat, and scram.

Remus ran down the hallway, praying he didn't cross paths with any Slytherins. He could see the large oak doors … just a few feet away -

Wham!

Everything around him blurred, his vision faded slightly, but he heard the sniggering. He felt his head slam against the cold, stone floor beneath him.

"Looks like the homo doesn't know how to see," he heard a voice mock. A few laughs - maybe there weren't as many as he was dreading?

"I don't think he was paying attention ahead of him because he was watching guys' waists, where their groin is." Lots of sniggers this time.

A few seconds passed, and he had the slight hope that it was over, but then he felt a blow to his side, below a rib. Then another. Though his body was in the fetal position, his mind had counted – fourteen all together. It stung so badly and it would probably bruise later, unless he went to Madam Pomfrey, but he would have to explain what had happened - and he really didn't want to.

Instead, Remus sat upright the best he could and forced his eyes open, for they were stuck together by his tears from the blows.

Normal. The whole scene was normal. No teachers passed to ask and punish who did this; students didn't offer their hands to help him up. Everyone was filing to the Great Hall as if nothing had happened.

He got to his feet and his head swirled from the sudden movement. He had to decide - move 20 feet and enter the Great Hall like an abused rag doll, or walk back up to his dorm, his sanctuary until the others came, and skip out on dinner. He seriously considered the latter, but felt a deep feeling in his stomach, and concluded he needed the food...or to fix his side.

So, he decided to drift with the crowd into the Great Hall, and hope nothing bad would happen.

If you were drifting with a thousand other people, could you really say you were lost?