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It wasn’t as if Anthony Goldstein had ever been raised to think that there was a problem with being interested in other boys. His Uncle Isaac was bisexual, and married to a man, at that – and his Uncle Dan was gay. His parents wouldn’t even be upset that he was interested in a Pureblood boy – his own mother was a Pureblood (of course, if he wanted to marry a Pureblood boy, his parents probably would expect him to convert, but that wasn’t on his mind at the moment).
His family being fine with him dating boys and goyische Purebloods aside, he really didn’t think they’d approve of Zacharias Smith. Just because of his personality.
His parents didn’t put up with any sort of ego or snide remarks (at least, not any that came from someone besides his Aunt Miri, but she was family and that was different). He knew his Uncle Isaac and Aunt Miri thought that his father was too serious – and while Anthony might quietly agree sometimes, his mother was kind and level-headed and also knew when to relax and let things go.
He asked his Uncle Isaac over summer hols just before fourth year. He’d been sandwiched between his cousins while they watched the Muggle telly his Uncle Dan insisted on keeping in the house. Uncle Isaac had walked by at just the right time, so Anthony asked, “Uncle Isaac, did you ever – fancy someone who was perhaps a bit – well… I suppose pompous might be a good word?”
Uncle Isaac stopped in his tracks, and both Jonathan and Naomi turned their attention toward their father.
“I, er, well – I certainly didn’t have the best taste when I was your age. Spent the months leading up to my bar mitzvah mooning over some arrogant Gryffindor while denying it the whole time.”
“That hardly sounds healthy,” Anthony said.
“It wasn’t,” Uncle Isaac said. “And you know, you haven’t got to go out with someone just because you fancy them. Sometimes you’re better for not dating them.”
“What was Uncle Dan like when you met?”
Uncle Isaac smiled. “Charming. You know, we spent a lot of time with our Muggle grandparents growing up, your dad and Aunt Miri and I. And it was – refreshing to talk to someone about Muggle culture.”
“I think Dad went to the opposite end of that.”
“Everyone’s a bit different,” Uncle Isaac said. “But your Uncle Dan – I think I was smitten before I even spoke with him. You might find this difficult to believe, but I used to be quite shy. I still don’t particularly like putting myself out there in non-professional settings, but I introduced myself to him before he was even finished putting away his tallis.”
“But he was kind?”
“Of course he was kind,” Uncle Isaac said. “Now, I might have my own private beliefs about what House he’d have been in if he’d gone to Hogwarts, but he’s always been unfailingly kind.”
“What House d’you think he’d have been in?” Anthony asked, leaning over the back of the sofa.
“I said private beliefs, Anthony,” Uncle Isaac said. “And I’d recommend against going for people who you know to be full of themselves. It rarely ends well.”
Anthony huffed a bit. “Fine. And speaking of Uncle Dan – has he got any idea what’s going on at Hogwarts this year? Rolf said Charlie Weasley’s in town and it’s something to do with Hogwarts – but he’s been on a dragon sanctuary in Romania for the past three years.”
“Rolf has his Uncle Max’s propensity to speculate,” Uncle Isaac said. “I wouldn’t give his ideas too much weight. He’s not – Anthony, please tell me he’s not who you fancy. I don’t think any of us could take being more closely related to the Scamanders than fourth cousins.”
Anthony laughed. “Oh, god, no. Don’t worry about that. We’re friendly, that’s all. He’s far too old for me, for one.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. I fancied his father when I was your age,” Uncle Isaac said, pulling a bit of a face at that. “He was twelve years older than me.”
“You fancied Rolf’s dad?” Anthony asked.
“Have you seen a photograph of Jacob Scamander when he was in his twenties? We’ve probably one around here from a Seder or bar mitzvah. That was a prime example of not telling someone you fancy them. Doubt he even knows now.”
“I suppose twelve years isn’t a drastic age gap when you’re thirty-three,” Anthony said.
His uncle shot him an exasperated look. “Jacob and I are both very happy in our marriages, and I haven’t felt anything like that for him in – about a decade or so. Surely there was some Hebrew school teacher or other that you fancied. It’s the same sort of thing.”
“Your secret’s safe with me, Uncle Isaac. I’d never tell Rolf about it.”
“Thank you,” Uncle Isaac said. He shuffled the books in his arms. “I’ve got to work on my d’var Torah for Friday; do you mind keeping an eye on the twins for a bit? Uncle Dan should be home in an hour or so.”
“Yeah, sure,” Anthony said.
“Just shout if you need me.”
“Can’t exactly use magic outside of school, can I?”
He knew he was technically meant to be babysitting; that this was the point of his visiting. The twins, after all, had just turned seven the week before, and the second the television ceased to interest them, they would likely gang up on him and he’d have to find something else to entertain them. Both of his uncles worked full time, and while they didn’t necessarily keep regular hours, he knew they were grateful for his help, and they always invited him to stay for dinner.
If he thought his Uncle Dan was a better cook than his own mother, well, he’d never say it.
And now here he was, with the perfect excuse. His friends all had plans to get a date for their November Hogsmeade visit, which would leave Anthony alone.
Terry had thrown himself on his bed, bemoaning the fact that he’d failed to ask one of the Beauxbâtons girls to go to Hogsmeade with him, which Anthony had rather thought was overkill. It was Michael, though, who’d said, “you mean Beauxbâtons boys, yeah?”
“Shove off,” Terry’d snapped.
“Some of them are quite fit,” Michael had said. “We can all just go stag, if you’d like.”
“There’s someone I want to ask,” Anthony had said.
Michael and Terry had turned to him. “What?”
“Who?”
“Since when?”
“You haven’t said anything!”
“It’s nothing,” Anthony had said. “I doubt he’ll even say yes.”
“He?”
“Of course he will! You’re a catch!”
“He?”
“Yes, he,” Anthony had said. “And he won’t, but I might as well try.”
This was not how he’d thought he’d get time alone with Zacharias, but Michael and Terry were devoted friends, and it had only been too easy to convince the other Hufflepuffs to partner up with anyone but Zacharias.
The problem was that Zacharias was, as it turned out, completely terrible at Potions. And Anthony didn’t much fancy the idea of asking him out (especially when he knew how much of a prat he could be) with Snape lurking around.
Still, he tried. “Have you got any plans this weekend?”
Zacharias nearly dropped the vial he was holding. “What?”
“It’s a Hogsmeade weekend,” Anthony said. “I asked if you had plans.”
“Why?” He narrowed his eyes, as if this sort of thing was terribly suspicious.
“Well,” Anthony said, “To be honest, I wondered if you wanted to go with me.”
“Go with you?” Zacharias asked.
“Yes,” Anthony said. He didn’t elaborate further, because he really wasn’t sure what to say, and he had a feeling that rambling would make things worse.
“Is this some kind of joke?”
“No,” Anthony said. “Why would it be a joke?”
“You actually want to willingly spend time with me?”
He wanted to do a lot more than that, but he knew better than to admit it outright. He didn’t even know if Zacharias was interested in dating boys. “Yeah.”
Zacharias didn’t answer, and turned back to their potion. Anthony took that as a rejection, and moved on. He’d feel sad about it later, but not here, and not now. Not with Snape coming up and sneering at them. “I see Smith has managed to partner with someone who isn’t completely hopeless today.”
Really, how had this man been allowed to become a teacher? Surely there had been someone else who was comparably qualified who didn’t make a point of running around like an overgrown bully.
Anthony knew talking back would only lose Ravenclaw points and potentially get him a detention. So he ignored him. It deprived Snape of the reaction he so desperately craved, but it didn’t get him into any actual trouble.
Snape glared at their potion and went on to bully Ernie and Justin.
“It’s probably taking all his restraint not to call Justin the M-word,” Anthony muttered.
“You think?” Zacharias asked.
“He was a year above my uncle in school, and he was in Slug Club with my mum. Apparently he threw it around like nothing when he was in school.”
“He’s not even a Pureblood,” Zacharias said. “Not that it matters – I’m not a bigot – but I know enough to know that Snape is not a Pureblood last name, and that sort of thing seems like it matters to him.”
“I can ask my mum or uncle if they know,” Anthony offered.
“It’s really quite pathetic that he was apparently the best they could manage. Really shows how the quality of education here has suffered.”
Anthony hummed. They finished their potion in relative silence, and as they collected samples for Snape, Zacharias said, “Okay.”
Anthony turned to look at him. “Okay?”
“Hogsmeade,” Zacharias said. “I’ve thought on it. I’ll go.”
“Oh,” Anthony said. “Then, er… I’ll meet you outside the Great Hall?”
“All right,” Zacharias said.
“What do you mean, you didn’t ask if it was a date?”
“I was so surprised that he’d even said yes,” Anthony said. “I didn’t really think about it.”
“You,” Michael said, “are a bisexual disaster. You know that, Anth?”
“I know,” Anthony said, burying his head in his hands. “I mean, even if we go as friends, it’ll still be all right, I think.”
“I can see if Lisa wants to hang nearby?”
It was a generous offer, but Anthony shook his head. “That’d seem strange.”
“If you’re sure,” Michael said.
“I am.”
He still didn’t quite look as if he believed Anthony, but he said, “At least promise me that if things go to shit you’ll find one of us.”
“Of course,” Anthony said. “Or Ernie or Hannah or Justin.”
He met Zacharias in the Great Hall, and they got into a carriage with Ernie, Hannah, and Justin. None of them seemed to pay much mind to Zacharias, although they all greeted Anthony politely. They made an odd group, at least if you asked Anthony, but at least they were all generally nice.
“What have you two got planned?” Justin asked.
“What d’you mean by that?” Zacharias asked, which Anthony thought was a bit of an overreaction.
“I was simply attempting to make conversation,” Justin said. “I didn’t mean anything.”
“I need to get my cousins something for Chanukah, still,” Anthony said. “Beyond that, I dunno.”
“Oh, I thought of getting Mother something from Honeydukes for Christmas. You have Muggle family, don’t you?”
“Sort of,” Anthony said. “Do you count second cousins? My gran is a Muggleborn, but her whole family’s had – well, quite a while to get used to magical treats.”
“Hm, I suppose that’s not quite what I had in mind,” Justin said.
“Besides, I may not know that much about Muggle culture, but I’m – fairly certain that there’s a world of difference between your Muggle relatives and mine. My gran’s father was a butcher.”
“A butcher?”
“I’m sure your family’s got their own personal butcher,” Anthony said, and he wasn’t quite sure if it was a joke. Posh Muggles were one aspect of Muggle culture that Anthony thought he’d never understand.
“Not – ours, per se, but there is a butcher, locally, that the head housekeeper orders from.”
“I really can’t get over how Muggles sort out class,” Ernie said.
“It is really much simpler here,” Justin said, almost as though he enjoyed going from the top of the social food chain to the very bottom.
Anthony didn’t question it; not out loud, but Zacharias snorted.
It wasn’t like they were at Madame Puddifoots, or anything. Ernie, Hannah, and Justin invited Anthony and Zacharias to hang around with them, but, while Anthony was trying to figure out a polite way to decline without putting any pressure on Zacharias, Zacharias said, “No; we’ve got plans,” and pulled him away.
Anthony barely managed a “See you later!” before they were too far away to hear.
“I couldn’t take another minute with them,” Zacharias said.
Anthony didn’t say anything about how rude that was. “What, exactly, are our plans?”
Zacharias shrugged. “You need to get your cousins something for Chanukah, right?”
He didn’t really think it sounded like fun for Zacharias to be dragged around while Anthony shopped, but if he was offering. “I do. I wanted to check the bookshop. My uncles will be annoyed if I go right for the sweets.”
“Uncles?” Zacharias asked as they started walking toward the bookshop.
“Yeah,” Anthony said. “My Uncle Isaac and my Uncle Dan. It’s their children. My Aunt Miri and Uncle Iain haven’t got any kids.”
“They’ve got children together? Two men?” Zacharias asked.
“Yeah,” Anthony said. “They’ve got twins; Naomi and Jonathan. They’re seven.”
“They’re seven and you’re buying them books?”
“Nothing they can’t handle,” Anthony said, “but they’re both very active readers. It’s to be expected, I think. Uncle Isaac’s a rabbi and Uncle Dan’s a reporter, so they both read and write a lot. But I do want to go to Honeydukes to get something for Rolf.”
Zacharias frowned. “The only Rolf I’ve ever met is Rolf Scamander.”
“That’s him,” Anthony said. “He’s sort of a cousin, too. We’ll see each other over hols – his ex is back in the country, so he’s mysteriously found something important to do in Britain. None of us are fooled, of course. But it means he’s not leaving until Charlie does, so after New Year’s, at least?”
“Is everyone you know gay?”
“Well,” Anthony said, “Rolf and my Uncle Isaac are bisexual, not gay. And my parents are straight, I think.”
“You think?”
“I’m not going to assume someone’s sexuality,” Anthony said. He examined a book on a shelf, and considered buying it for Jonathan when he heard a very familiar voice.
“I think this really is like our first date. Only this one has a better title, doesn’t it, Charlie?”
Anthony debated on what to do while Charlie responded to Rolf. Zacharias raised an eyebrow, and then looked over Anthony’s shoulder. “Oh, isn’t that Scamander, there?”
He didn’t know if he was on a date, but Rolf almost certainly was.
“Anthony?”
Well, it had been decided for him, then. “Oh, Rolf!” he said, turning around. “I didn’t see you there!”
Rolf was standing far too close to Charlie Weasley to even try to pass it off as mere friendship. Anthony had only met Charlie once, over Passover four and a half years ago, but he looked enough like his brothers that he was immediately recognizable.
“Uncle Max has another novel out,” Rolf said. “We were just – looking at it.”
“What’re you two doing in Hogsmeade?” Anthony asked.
“Nostalgic visit,” Charlie Weasley said quickly.
“I’m sorry,” Rolf said to Zacharias. “It’s Zacharias, isn’t it? You’re in Hufflepuff?”
“I am,” Zacharias said.
“I can’t tell you how happy I was to learn that one of the Hogwarts champions is a Hufflepuff,” Rolf said. “Cedric, in particular, is absolutely lovely.”
“He’s not completely terrible at Quidditch,” Zacharias said, which was as much of a compliment as he ever seemed to give anyone.
“Will both of you be watching the first task?” Charlie asked. “Ron’s – written me about it.”
Anthony didn’t quite believe him. “I’ll be there.”
“I’ve got better things to do than sit out in the cold watching some ridiculous game,” Zacharias said.
“You should watch it,” Rolf said. “It’ll be historic.”
This was painful, and Anthony really wanted to be anywhere else. “I’ve actually got to go – I’m going to buy this, but I’ve still got to get something for Naomi – and for you, Rolf, so don’t go following us around.”
“I’m in Hogsmeade with Charlie and it’s as charming and lovely as it’s ever been; you don’t have to worry about that. Just – maybe don’t tell my parents you saw us? They can be a bit – overprotective, you know.”
Anthony really didn’t think that Rolf’s parents could ever qualify as overprotective, but, really, he didn’t want to be the one to tell them that Rolf was going on dates with his ex-boyfriend who he’d taken years to get over. It was his life, after all. “As long as you don’t tell mine that I’ve put off Chanukah shopping this long.”
Rolf grinned. “It’s a deal.”
An hour and a half (and a lot of shopping) later, Anthony and Zacharias arrived at the Three Broomsticks. They got a booth in the back to themselves, and ordered Butterbeer.
“How can you stand to be friends with everyone?” Zacharias asked.
Anthony shrugged. “I’m not friends with everyone.”
“Macmillan, Abbott, Finch-Fletchley, Scamander, Weasley’s brother, apparently, Corner, Boot, Turpin, Patil, Granger – the list goes on.”
“Well,” Anthony said. “I really spend most of my time with Mike and Terry, but I do try to be kind to everyone – within reason, of course.”
“Is that all this is?” Zacharias asked.
“Of course not,” Anthony said. “I wouldn’t spend a whole afternoon with just anyone.”
Zacharias rolled his eyes and took a gulp of his Butterbeer. “You stopped and talked to everyone.”
“Would you rather me have ignored them?”
“Yes,” Zacharias said.
“Well, I’m not going to,” Anthony said. “It’s not as if I stopped and talked to everyone. I saw Neville Longbottom in Honeydukes, and I didn’t start up a conversation with him.”
“Yeah, but that’s Neville Longbottom,” Zacharias said.
“Neville’s perfectly decent,” Anthony said.
“You’re too nice.”
Anthony shrugged. “Maybe I am. It’s never caused me problems in the past.”
“It’s causing a problem right now,” Zacharias said.
“What’s that?”
“Well, for one thing,” he said, “I can’t tell if you like me or if you like me. You know. Fancy me.”
“Oh,” Anthony said. He tried to seem nonchalant, as if he didn’t really care one way or the other what Zacharias thought of this whole thing, but – as rude and haughty as he’d been all day, there was something about that that just made Anthony like him more. Really, what was wrong with him?
“Which is it?”
“Which do you want it to be?” Anthony asked.
“That’s such a bullshit Ravenclaw answer,” Zacharias said. “Answer the question.”
Anthony sipped at his Butterbeer. He had to seem confident and sure of himself. “Both.” His voice didn’t even waver, not one bit.
“How can it possibly be both?” Zacharias asked.
“It’s quite simple, really,” Anthony said, “I like spending time with you as a friend, but I’d also like to snog you. I don’t think one outweighs the other, and the two can and do exist concurrently.”
Zacharias rolled his eyes. “Fucking Ravenclaws,” he muttered. “So you fancy me?”
“Yes,” Anthony said.
“Okay,” Zacharias said.
He didn’t volunteer any further information, and Anthony rather felt that his own daring and nerve was spent. He was a Ravenclaw; he didn’t have an unlimited supply of courage. Zacharias didn’t leave, which was a good sign.
After about ten minutes of sitting in silence, Zacharias asked, “Do your dormmates know you’re – gay?”
“I’m not gay,” Anthony said. “I’m bisexual. But yes, they know.”
“I think Finch-Fletchley is.”
Anthony shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.” Justin hadn’t said anything to him, and while Anthony might be inclined to agree, he also knew that he didn’t understand anything about posh Muggles or Muggleborns – who was to say that they weren’t all like Justin? “It’s not as if we have some secret club.”
“I like girls,” Zacharias said.
“So do I,” Anthony said.
Anthony didn’t know why, but the next week in Potions, he invited Zacharias to celebrate Chanukah with him. Zacharias hadn't even really spoken to him since they'd gotten back from Hogsmeade, so common sense said that he wasn't interested. Still, Anthony asked.
“It's on the seventh floor, across from the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy teaching trolls ballet. We usually start after dinner sometime, and loads of people bring their friends, because otherwise there'd be less than a dozen of us.”
Zacharias rolled his eyes and asked him to add the standard ingredient to their potion.
So, really, it wasn’t like Anthony expected him to show up. He knew he’d get over it, eventually, and he didn’t even bring it up as he chatted to Hermione Granger over latkes and watered down wine (he wasn’t sure who’d decided they needed to water down the wine for the older students rather than just giving the younger ones grape juice, or even if such a thing was halachically permissible, but such was life).
He walked back to Ravenclaw Tower with Esther and Gary Margolies, and didn’t talk to Michael or Terry about it. Instead, he opened up The Dark Forces: A Guide To Self-Protection and worked through his reading for Defense Against the Dark Arts.
The second and third nights passed in much the same manner, so Anthony didn’t expect anything different from the fourth night. He was in the middle of a discussion with Hermione about the egg from the first task of the Triwizard Tournament and what the horrible screeching could possibly mean when Zacharias showed up.
Hermione raised her eyebrows, and Anthony did his best to look impassive.
“Anthony, hello,” Zacharias said.
“Hello,” Anthony greeted. “Hermione and I were discussing the clue for the second task.”
“Diggory’s already got it sorted,” Zacharias said, “hasn’t Potter?”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “How has Cedric Diggory got it sorted?”
“I’m not telling you that,” Zacharias said. “Potter’s not a legitimate champion.”
“It was lovely to talk to you, Hermione,” Anthony said, sensing danger.
“You too, Anthony,” Hermione said, giving Zacharias a very dirty look.
Anthony walked Zacharias over to the refreshments table. “We’ve got latkes and sufganiyot and wine.”
“Wine?” Zacharias asked.
“It’s watered down,” Anthony said. “But it’s not completely terrible. The latkes are really good, though – the potato pancakes. We’ve already lit the candles, but – everyone’s still around.”
“You’re always like this, aren’t you?”
“Like what?” Anthony asked.
“Nice.”
“I – try to be,” he said.
“It’s frustrating, you know.”
“What is?” Anthony asked, because surely Zacharias wasn’t talking about him being nice. How would that be frustrating at all?
“You,” Zacharias said. “You’re frustrating. You’re too nice. And you don’t seem to want anything from me.”
Anthony shrugged and bit into a sufganiyah. It prevented him from having to answer and completely embarrassing himself.
“I don’t know what to make of it. Of you. And I like girls, you know. You’re not a girl.”
“No,” Anthony said. “I’m not a girl.”
Zacharias poured himself a glass of wine. “I don’t like it.”
“You haven’t even tried it.”
“Not the wine,” he said. “I don’t like how – being around you is – I don’t like it, all right?”
“Then why did you come here?” He tried to let the words roll off of him; after all, Zacharias had shown up, and he was talking to him. If he’d wanted to avoid Anthony, it would have been only too easy.
“Because you – infuriate me.”
“I infuriate you?”
“Yes! Absolutely! I was trying to revise, and I couldn’t stop – thinking about your stupid face and how absurdly nice you are to everyone.”
“Oh,” Anthony said. That didn’t sound infuriating to him.
“I like girls,” Zacharias said.
Maybe it was because he repeated it, maybe it was because Anthony was only too familiar with that line of thinking, but it suddenly became clear to him.
“You fancy me,” he said.
Zacharias turned bright red. “I do not! I like girls, and you’re not a girl!”
“I like girls, and you’re not a girl, and I fancy you. It’s not necessarily one or the other, you know. If this feels like – how you feel for girls, then that’s usually a pretty good sign. Of course, we could always snog to be sure.”
Zacharias looked him up and down. “All right.”
Anthony had not expected that to work. “All right?”
“Yeah,” Zacharias said. “But not here. Not in front of people. There’s got to be a classroom down the corridor, or something, yeah?”
Oh, this was actually happening. Okay. This was – definitely not how Anthony had expected the night would go, but he could adapt. “Sure,” he said, trying to seem cool. “I’ve just got to come back for my menorah. The – candelabra.”
“It’s not as if it’s going to take all night,” Zacharias said. “I really have got to revise.”