Disclaimer: Recognize it? Not mine.

Trustworthy

In the eerily empty Common room, I found my very own company quite unsettling.

I was in dire need of distraction - anything that could keep my thoughts away from what had just happened, and what was about to happen. So I turned to the corner of the Common room in which we kept all the common property - towering bookcases, shelves, and drawers, which were filled with things donated to the House by us, and every generation that preceded us. All with the purpose of preserving and sharing knowledge.

There were so many things that I could recognize. There were the Muggle books Lisa Turpin had donated before being forced to go into hiding, and the crystal balls from an unknown period that had tempted Padma Patil and me to take Divination as an elective (only to regret it later.) I didn't open the drawers, but I knew they were stocked with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes that Su Li, Kevin Entwhistle and Stephen Cornfoot had smuggled in to make this year bearable for everyone. I was even familiarized with things that had more of a history, like the two baroque-looking candlesticks that sat on one of the lowest shelves.

I recalled the gleam of exhilaration in Anthony Goldstein's dark eyes when he discovered them in our first year. Vivian Goldstein was sorted into Ravenclaw three years later, and she would use those very same candlesticks to light candles every Friday night. I knew it was a ritual common to the religion the Goldsteins belonged to. Anthony gave explanations time and time again, but religion was something too abstract for me to grasp, so I remained ignorant.

I sighed. There I was, thinking of Anthony, when I was trying to do all that was in my power not to think of him. I was attempting to forget I was waiting for him, and that I was sure to see him appear in a pitiable state. It was almost circumstantial that I ended up waiting for him to come back from his detention with the Carrows, and that I was alone.

It's not like we were close friends. We didn't dislike each other, not at all, but after seven years it was clear we were polar opposites. Anthony was soft yet strong, distant yet kind, like a cool breeze on a warm summer evening. He was the pillar supporting our House, and he did it so subtly, I doubt he even realized it.

I was clever enough to always have an answer, wise enough to know when to keep my mouth shut, but reckless enough to disregard such knowledge. I wouldn't be the one to provide tender words of comfort. Even if I could, my neutral stand on the ongoing war was common knowledge, so it was doubtful that he would trust me enough to let me help him.

Either way, I didn't think I could help him.

I shook my head, thinking of something else. Theo would love to inspect these bookcases, I reckoned, not for the first time. But that line of thought wasn't acceptable either. I'd taken Theodore Nott out of my life long ago, and I didn't regret it. Though I didn't regret having him in my life on the first place, no matter what Terry Boot - or anyone else - thought of the matter.

I huffed, forcing my mind to go back to the shelves. But before I could, the door to the common room opened. I swiftly looked in its direction.

There was the blonde boy I was waiting for. He was very pale, and he shivered from head to toe. His lips were dry, and his face showed traces of tears that had carelessly remained there. He let himself fall on the nearest sofa, unaware of my presence.

He seemed to be in serious need for a glass of water, among many things. I tried not to think about him locked up for hours, victim to the Cruciatus Curse, in pain... I tried not to, so I searched the common room for the self-refilling jar of water which Flitwick had enchanted, and a glass, and rushed to Anthony's side.

"Drink some water," I told him, trying to get my voice to sound mellow. But it startled him, and he looked at me as if he saw me for the first time. "Don't worry, it's just me. Drink, alright?"

He nodded, taking the glass. He finished it so quickly, that without a second thought, I offered him the jar instead.

"I haven't lost my dignity, Morag," was his response. I rolled my eyes, pouring him another glass. This one he drank more slowly. I had the feeling he was trying to keep appearances, trying to make it seem like he was unfazed.

I didn't believe him at all.

"You know, you're allowed to break down." He didn't answer, so I kept talking. "If you don't want to talk about it with me, it's fine, and I get it. But you're being strong for all of us - you can't possibly expect me to believe you're made of stone."

He still didn't respond, so I tried a different approach. "Are you hurt? Do you need to eat?"

He shook his head, fresh tears appearing in his eyes. It didn't upset me; after all, Anthony was the resident crybaby, and took it gracefully whenever we joked about it. He joked about it himself, which shut down all the 'sissy' and 'weak' accusations that Slytherins had tried to throw at him.

But that night, it would've been blasphemous to make such a joke. I wouldn't do it. Not after he'd been so brave and strong. Not after he'd been the leader Ravenclaw needed. Not after he'd been punished for teaching Muggle Studies to the Ravenclaws that were forced to swallow Carrow's lies, and whowanted to know the truth.

Not after betrayal had come from within.

I let him lie down and cry. I poured myself a glass of water as well before taking my place on an armchair next to the sofa he was sprawled on, intentionally keeping my distance. I knew Terry, Becky Mayer, and Michael Corner were the people Anthony would've wanted close by, so I decided to keep him quiet company for the time being.

"It was Mandy." His broken voice surprised me. "She betrayed me, and she..." His voice caught on in his throat, so I spoke.

"We know."

It was evident that those words were hard for him to speak. Mandy Brocklehurst was his ex-girlfriend, after all. But my confession of knowing such a thing was sure to embarrass him, so I regretted my words almost immediately.

"Who is we?" he asked.

"Terry, Becky and I. No one else," I reassured him. "When the Carrows took you away, so many people lost it. Padma had to step in and send everyone to their rooms. Naturally Terry and Becky resisted and I... well, Becky realized that Mandy was missing and seemed ready to hex her into oblivion..."

These moments were difficult for me to put into words. I couldn't tell him of the look of utter shame in Mandy's face when she showed up, half an hour earlier than Anthony did. I couldn't tell him of how Becky was quick on raising her wand against Mandy. I couldn't tell him that Mandy hadn't showed any qualms on torturing Becky in front of our eyes, this time without the smallest hint of shame...

"Terry took Becky to...to safety, in the end. Mandy threatened her so we thought it would be for the best. Terry is staying there for the night."

Anthony was clever enough to understand from what I'd said that a duel had taken place, and that Becky was hiding with Neville Longbottom, Michael and many others. That's what Hogwarts had come to - a war in which students were threatened with inhumane punishments. A place in which everyone who opposed the bloodthirsty, dictatorial regime was in mortal danger.

"Oh, Becky," was all he said.

"Oh Becky, indeed." Becky Mayer was a childhood friend of mine, and now one of Anthony's closest friends. This sixth-year girl was pretty much the only thing Anthony and I had in common. "Becky and Terry both wanted to wait for you, but taking Becky to safety was a priority."

"I agree. And that explains why you're the one waiting for me."

He knew as well as I did that Terry wouldn't trust me with the location of the Dumbledore's Army's hideout. Not only because I dated Theo, but because I'd been great at staying out of trouble. My reluctance to fight authority was something he couldn't forgive.

"And I'm glad I did, because you deserve to have at least one person waiting for you." His lack of an answer made me sigh. "You're getting me wrong, Anthony. I simply think I'm the wrong person. I'm sure you would've liked Terry or Becky to be here for you, instead of me."

"Rubbish," he answered immediately. "I don't think I could've taken Becky's hysteria or Terry's relentless questioning."

This managed to surprise me. Anthony Goldstein never allowed himself such a disloyalty to his friends. The fact that he was being selfish indicated that the situation was quite grave.

"Then what do you want?" I asked as softly as I could.

"Your tactlessness." I smiled. I couldn't help but admire his ability to joke. "Really, I just... I can't go to bed yet. I need to be distracted for a while."

That makes two of us. "Have you tried peering through the shelves over there?" I said stupidly. "That... that's what I do."

"If I had the energy to stand, Morag, I would consider it."

I felt myself blush. "I'm sorry. Well, yeah. I really am tactless. What were you expecting?"

"You aren't disappointing, don't worry."

Another joke. When I thought about it, I realized that he seemed too clear of mind for someone who'd just been tortured. I wonder how long his torture had actually lasted, and how long had he been trying to pull himself together after Mandy was done with him.

Not for the first time, I wondered how bad it was to be on the receiving end.

I tried to put myself in his place. What if it had happened to me? What if Theo sold me out, then raised his wand against me? I couldn't even begin to imagine the mental suffering, along with the physical pain it would bring. I wasn't in denial - I was certain that I had long stopped to love him. But the knowledge that I once did, like Anthony had loved Mandy, would be enough for such a betrayal to make an agonizing wound.

I shuddered. The mental images were too much for me to take.

"Everything okay, Morag?"

"For Merlin's sake, Anthony. I already told you that you don't need to fake it now!" Well, 'Mission: Distracting Anthony' had just failed, but it really bothered me that he was trying to be selfless at a time like this. "You know what - I think it's very evident that neither of us is going to be distracted. So why not just talk about it?"

He shrugged, as if giving up. "What makes you curious?"

"It's not curiosity. You're thinking about it, I'm thinking about it, it's just a big fat elephant in the room at this point. I'll say this once more - It's okay if you don't want to tell me. I can't even begin to imagine how...how terrible it is. But let me remind you that I don't need to feel like you're unbreakable to appreciate everything you've done."

"Not tonight, you mean." I was about to passionately refute that when he kept talking. "Maybe you're right, but tomorrow I can't show myself like this. I can't-"

"It never worried you!" I exploded, and an awkward silence ensued. I had to keep talking. "It never worried you to be seen crying, or expressing emotion. It never worried you to show that you're vulnerable. That's...that's something I've always admired of you, Anthony," I confessed. "Even as a prefect, you didn't make it seem as if you and your authority are unyielding. Boys always feel like they have to be all macho and you never cared about that." His lips twitched at the mention of the word 'macho.' "You were...you were...well, something horrible just happened to you. Do I really have to tell you that it's okay for you to...?"

"I cried enough, Morag!" His voice had a hint of harshness, but then it softened. "I don't want to do it anymore."

The way he'd finally admitted his very human weakness gave the perfect opportunity for me to get closer. I left my position in the armchair to sit beside him - he was lying down, so I simply sat on the floor right next to him. He didn't react to this.

"What happened?" I asked.

The question rang in the air for a few moments. When he spoke, it was as if he was admitting defeat.

"She... Mandy...Well, Morag, you know when in fiction, the villain circles the hero and makes a speech?" I didn't know, but I nodded anyway. "Well, that just happened." He laughed bitterly. "She let me know she was angry that I broke up with her because of our ideals. She was angry I chose sides two years ago, and she told me she'd just chosen hers. Then...well."

Now that I could look at him closely, I finally realized how broken he felt. I tried to keep my face straight. It was harder when he started to cry again.

"I never meant to hurt her, Morag," he whispered. "I never meant for her to...to become this." His eyes found mine. "I never meant for this to happen."

"I'm very sure you didn't."

He huffed, looking away and wiping his tears. "You always have something snarky to say."

"That's my job. I thought you wanted my tactlessness?" When he didn't react to my joke, I tried the soft approach. "What I meant is, it's not your fault. A person doesn't turn evil - not to imply that she's evil, but it's her own fault that she's made the wrong choices. Free will, isn't it how you'd call it? Heaven and hell? Good and evil?"

Anthony seemed surprised at the fact that I'd actually listened to some of his speeches on religion. "Something like that, yeah," he answered.

"Well, I happen to think it's overly simplified. No person is wholly good, or wholly evil. Whatever good you saw in Mandy, I can't tell you it's not there anymore. It probably is. But whatever evil you didn't see in her, I can assure you she had it in her. She has no excuse, and it's very low of her to blame you for her own inferiority complex. I think she was just starved for attention and popularity."

He mulled over my words.

"I wasn't blind to the fact that she's only loyal to herself," he whispered. "But I didn't think... never thought that-"

"That she could sink that low. Yeah. Neither did I."

My words had seemingly reassured him, for he kept quiet.

"You know, Morag," he finally said, "I find it interesting that you're willing to condemn Mandy's actions, but you say nothing about Nott's liberal use of the Dark Arts."

I knew he was simply curious, for it was like him to want to delve deeper and deeper into the minds of those around him. Terry never forgave me for dating a Death Eater's son, as I said, but Anthony never judged me for it.

"Mandy uses the Dark Arts for personal gain, and brings harm to those I love," I answered immediately. "And while Theodore uses Dark Magic quite... creatively, for lack of a better word, he wouldn't have lifted a finger against me or anyone I care about. He still hasn't."

"Is that it? The fact that he won't show his dark side to your loved ones?"

I shrugged.

"I've never denied I'm selfish like that, Anthony." I paused, waiting for him to respond. He didn't, so I felt the need to elaborate on my answer. "Loyalties were of no consequence three years ago, and darkness fascinated me a bit back then. I know this is ironic, but that's why I broke up with him in the end. It's all fun and games until you start to care too much."

I hadn't talked about any of this with Padma or Lisa - I really had no idea why Anthony Goldstein, of all people, was to be on the receiving end of my confessions. Maybe because the lack of an actual friendship made me less wary of judgment.

Or maybe because I knew Anthony Goldstein would relate and wouldn't judge.

"It is all fun and games until you start to care too much," he agreed in the end. "Loving a friend of darkness, or someone without a moral compass, isn't a good idea to begin with. You could see it quickly enough...for me it was too late."

"Oh, but it wasn't! Didn't you break up with Mandy because she whined about your affiliation with Dumbledore's Army?"

"Yes, but..." He paused, then sighed. "I couldn't admit this to myself before today, but I can't lie anymore. Fact is, I never did stop caring."

He looked at me in the eyes when he said this. I realized I had just been let into a big secret. I'd just trusted Anthony with one of my own, and of a very similar nature - he probably knew I'd understand.

I guess this is how friendships work, I thought. I never knew the day would come and I'd think of Anthony Goldstein as a friend. That was a side effect of war, I reckoned, but we'd known each other for seven years and never talked about anything personal, as we were doing right now.

And just as that occurred to me, a bigger realization hit me.

In the aftermath of his punishment, we were simply talking about the themes teenagers are supposed to talk about - girls, boys, friendships, break-ups. To the casual observer, it would've been hard to tell that Anthony had just been victim of the Cruciatus Curse. Much less that this was the result of a personal vendetta that was backed by the horrible authority we were under.

War had translated into our lives so subtly and persistently that it made everyone lose their common sense in favor of either morality or survival.

And it made me rage.

"This is utter fucking rubbish, Anthony," I said. His expression changed so suddenly that I knew his full attention was on me. "Mandy curses you because she couldn't take being dumped. Terry still judges me because I dated a Death Eater's son, even though he never sided with them. And even if he had," I realized my voice was tinged with hysteria, so I kept it down. "Even if he had, I haven't sided with them and I never will. When did our love lives become relevant to war? When did it become personal? When did we stop being normal kids with normal problems, and it came down to this?"

The duel between Becky and Mandy came back to me, giving more depth to the feelings of anger and fear. Another example of how war is making us go insane, I thought. Love shouldn't be about loyalty to a cause. War shouldn't be about lost friendships or bitter break-ups.

I shook my head. There was Anthony, witnessing my inner struggle when I was supposed to be the one doing the comforting.

"Morag," he said, "not everyone finds it so easy to treat love and war as separate entities. You know the saying - 'all is fair in love and war.' It just so happens that some people take it more literally than others."

I sighed. His calm, collected words made me regain my cool. In a way, I knew what he meant. But I was too drowned in negative feelings to care to follow.

"I'm not in the right kind of mental state to fully grasp the meaning of that," I admitted.

"I'm sorry. I should've realized it was quite late and that I'm keeping you up."

"Not at all," I said truthfully. "It's only midnight - not really late for me. I guess...well, I guess it's been a strange day for everyone."

"Indeed." He tried to sit back up, but the wince of pain he let through was unmistakable. I rushed to get on my feet to help him, but there wasn't much I could do. I just placed some cushions against an armrest and led him to sit against them.

I sat by his side. "Strange day for everyone, yes, but especially for you," I conceded. "You...you were there for hours, Anthony. We were really worried."

"I guess I was," he murmured. I shot him a glance, full of questions that I wouldn't let myself voice. But he seemed to read my mind. "Morag, I wish I could tell you how it all happened. It would mean that I was clear of mind and under control. But I'd never felt such pain. I-I can't even put it into words." He sounded worn out, defeated. I nodded once, to indicate that he could keep talking. So he did. "I lost track of time even before...even before Mandy cursed me. I don't know for sure how long did it last, and how long did it take for me to regain consciousness. Walking back to the Common room..." He shuddered. "Right now I can't even move without a burning sensation going up my whole body. I don't know how I did it. But what hurts the most...what hurts the most is the fact that it was her."

Anthony had finally said what he needed to say. I knew better than to ask anything else. I just bit my lip, unsure of how to proceed. But he seemed to have the answer to that as well.

"I'm going to bed, Morag," he said. "I think...I think it will be better for me to be alone right now."

"Alright, then." I didn't protest. "Want me to help you get to your room?"

"I'll manage."

Maybe I should've insisted, but after the incident with the glass of water and the jar, I thought it wise not to test his pride further.

Everyone makes such a big deal of pride, I thought. And the thought led me to a question.

What's my own pride based on?

I always prided myself for being clever and open-minded. I could accept other people's points of views, even when they contradicted my own. I was good at neutrality, provided that I didn't have to sacrifice any of my morals and beliefs to achieve it. And that had always made me feel proud of myself.

Which is why, after processing all the events of the day, I understood that I was doing something wrong. I'd never thought anything of it, even as it was pointed out to me. Everyone had failed at making me see. But Anthony Goldstein had somehow succeeded without even trying.

And thankfully, it wasn't too late to rectify my mistake.

"Anthony," I said firmly as he stood up, "I want to fight."

"I'm sorry?" He turned to look at me, seeming more interested than surprised.

"You heard me. If the day ever comes, I want to fight."

"Why the sudden change of heart?"

"I've been too concerned with my future, but I don't know what the future will bring. I only have the present. I have to acknowledge that right now, I'm involved in this war, and I have to do what I think is right."

"Oh. I thought your inner eye saw You-Know-Who's imminent defeat and chose to side with the winning team. That's the kind of stuff you learn in Divination, isn't it?"

I couldn't help but smile. I was used to getting teased about my poor choice of an elective subject. Dropping it well before the OWLs hadn't helped my case. My smile seemed to please Anthony, who smiled as well. "A Divination joke, Anthony? Really? You're getting predictable."

"You made it too easy, with that 'I don't know what the future will bring' of yours..." His face regained seriousness moments later. "Anyway, Terry will certainly come back with information about possible meetings. I'll keep you updated."

"Will you, really?"

"I have no reason to think you're not trustworthy," he firmly declared. "In fact, Morag, deep down, we're not that different."

"Thanks, Anthony. Now, I won't make you stay here longer than necessary, so have a good night." I chose to end the conversation right there. He'd already seen through me, and further than I would be comfortable with.

"You're not going to sleep?"

"I think I'll stay up for another while." I couldn't face sleeping in the same room as Mandy Brocklehurst just yet, or risk Padma or Su waking up and questioning me about Anthony.

"I understand," he said. And I wondered if he did. "Good night, Morag. Sleep well."

I watched intently as he turned around and disappeared upstairs. He walked slowly, and I could almost feel the pain that went through his body with every step.

We're not that different, he'd said.

He didn't turn back to ask for help. I didn't rise to give it. He didn't say 'thanks' but his declaration of trust was much eloquent than that one word. So I was grateful as well.

He'd said that we're not that different, even if we were. But the fact that I could understand him better than I thought I ever would proved him right.

Notes: This was written for Jess (autumn midnights) though any attempt at providing a dedicatory is trumped by the fact that she used her Beta magic on this story.

Jess: I really hope you liked this and that you don't hate me for having you Beta this ;-; and yeah, thanks for being so awesome to me, for writing such amazing stories about the Ravenclaws and for inspiring me to keep writing about them!

Also written in Finnick's honor for the Hunger Games Fanfic Style Competition (prompts: Word, emotion, weapon, class and dialogue.)

Thank you, reader, if you did make it this far!

-Karyn.