The Personification of Disappointment | Tim

[Tigran Razi]

British Ministry of Magic
Timothy Winchester’s Office
Mid-August 1972

He’d been working at his internship in the morning at St. Mungos, but instead of enjoying his late scheduled lunch some Ministry dunderhead showed up.  At least the dunderhead hadn't shown up to the summer camp where he was a counselor and it would have been more embarrassing.  To say he was unexcited would be an understatement, but he was smart enough to know that now was a time for cooperation.  After all, he got this St. Mungos internship for a couple days a week on what he thought was his own merit applying like everyone else - he wasn’t going to let this Ministry dunderhead let people think he was some sort of charity case.  He wasn’t. However, he saw enough kids at the Hogsmeade Children’s Home especially the squibs given jobs as charity cases.

It wasn’t till he got to the destination that all thoughts of cooperation were tossed out the window.  It was simply now just himself, a Ministry dunderhead, and Mr. Fantasy Land who even had an office to match.  An office that he doubted was an illusion as he’d of bet it wouldn’t have so many comforting stuffed animals and toys about to drop the defenses of the kids.  No, if the surroundings were planned around his presumably scheduled and planned entrance he suspected it wouldn’t have looked like this.

This was real. 

If he didn’t say something now he’d be setting Tim up for the same disappointment every adult who’d ever tried to give a crap about him did.  He’d disappointed enough people in his failures to deal with the problems of the situations he’d found himself in over the years - situations that minus having a less badly timed insensitive emotionally fueled reactions he didn’t have a clue what he’d do differently.  He was beginning to finally start silently accepting the reality that his situations were his fault.

He didn’t want to add disappointing Tim to the list of situations he found himself in - or worse proving the world wasn’t the good place that Tim seemed to act like it was.

He looked towards the Ministry dunderhead unable to look at Tim and see the disappointment his logic would cause. Then he said “ This is stupid.  We all know how this works.  I age out in eight and a half months with some useless official paperwork. “  He’d gotten the paperwork before as Mrs. Cunningham, his former muggle social worker, had saved it for him and gave it to him over Christmas break when he ran into her.  She even said it was useless.

He took a quick breath in before speaking even faster “ Everyone knows Tim is honorable and if you lot could say this about everyone you employ I’d be dragged to see Gwynn today.  I trust at least Gwynn been fired for his incompetency as a social worker and ministry employee.  There are actually kids Tim could help and make a real difference with.  I’ve been at the Hogsmeade Children’s Home, and I know how to man up.  Hell, I even pretended I was going to go stay with a friends a few days before camp and got myself some work then went to the thrift, and picked up some new threads and toys for the kids there. “

Naturally, he’d also picked himself up a couple of new summer outfits like the one he was wearing now which were a simple pair of black pants, and a light yellow collared shirt.  As he lost his ability to just accept wearing transfigured uniforms that were so worn that they should be trashed.  Yet, what he remembered most from him picking stuff up for the kids at the children’s home was how happy little Alyse was twirling in her new-to-her pink summer dress with a new stuffed bunny.

Barely pausing for air he continued “ Tim can’t really do much in what two-hundred and sixty-ish days for me.  However, he could probably do something for so many others even the squib girl whose a few months younger than me he could logic her a path to a real job with some chance of sticking around instead of a shop job in Hogsmeade where I bet she’s replaced the minute she ages out.  No way a squib with fresh age-out papers is managing to stay in Hogsmeade and the delusional comfort she’s taking from that job as a path forward is just sad to watch.“

He had to breathe as he simply couldn’t continue talking so quickly to try to convince the dunderhead to abandon this bad idea - as he was certain Tim stupidly would walk into this disappointment if given the choice.

The dunderhead just smiled with an almost chuckle as he said “ Good Luck “  shutting the door leaving himself and Tim alone in the office.

It was good he was out of breath as he looked towards Tim as he had no idea what to say to the next adult that was about to potentially give a crap about him and end up disappointed like the rest.

[Timothy Winchester]

Tim had always had a feeling that there was a great deal of untold story behind the facade of Tigran Razi the world was shown. But he had taken the hint a long time ago not to ask about it. It was with silent mutual understanding that Tigran said only what he wanted known and that Tim would be expected to take it as the only thing worth knowing. It had been their arrangement for quite awhile. But that arrangement no longer existed. Not since Tigran’s file had been passed along.

With that, Tim had every gap of this boy’s history filled in. Every unanswered question given an explanation, every assumption proven correct, and even things he never would’ve imagined could have been woven into the boy’s story. He knew more about Tigran Razi now than he ever had before, and he had to imagine that there was little Tigran hated more than that fact.

So, Tim simply let Tigran speak. Rant, really.

He let the boy say what wanted to say. He let him ramble, talk all about how pointless this was, how Tim’s time was better spent helping someone else. The same sort of selfless statements he’d been hearing for months that were born from a desperate need to not be pried into.

It gave Tim no pleasure to do that prying. He wanted to respect Tigran’s right to privacy, but then he also couldn’t pretend to not be aware of what story was told by the file that sat in front of him. It was now his obligation both professionally and morally to do something whether Tigran liked it or not. It was his responsibility. His oath. Tigran maybe was too flustered to understand that right then, but Tim hoped that one day, it would all make sense.

When Tigran finished, Tim simply let the silence hang for a moment. A gentle nod of the head sent the other man in the room to the exit, leaving just the two of them now. They were separated only by a desk, but the distance felt like it was a chasm. If he felt that, he could only imagine what it felt like to Tigran.

“I appreciate your desire to be selfless. But I can assure you that eight and a half months is plenty of time to do what needs to be done. I’ve handled cases with much, much shorter windows than that.”

He said it not to brag, but as a way to subtly make it clear that there would be no abandoning this case. Even if the boy had to be dragged through it kicking and screaming, Tigran Razi was going to be helped.

“Tigran, I understand that you’ve made a strong habit out of self sufficiency. Your life has necessitated that. You’ve done well for yourself so far, I’ll give you credit where it is due. But what you may not understand right now is that you cannot go on like this forever. Before you is an opportunity to get things sorted and settled before you’ve lost the privilege of being a child.”

Tim leaned forward a bit in his chair.

“This is my case now, and I intend to see it through. My job is to help you, and that’s exactly what I intend to do. Please don’t make me fight you on that. This will be far easier on the both of us if you allow me to do my job.”

[Tigran Razi]

Alone with Tim his eyes made another survey of the room as he took a nervous deep breath.  It was a room more set for helping the younger kids he saw at Hogsmeade Children’s Home not someone like him.  His date was too soon for anything but motions and then the predictable useless paperwork which he’d accept with a handshake pretending to be thankful for what was attempted.

Then Tim started talking again and his eyes drifted back to him and he wished that it was anyone else in this room but Tim.  It wasn’t because they were close - they weren’t.  As it was rare he spoke to the man outside of classes - though admittedly even those few occurrences were more than he spoke to most the adults at Hogwarts.  It was obvious the combination of what little was said between them with whatever fragments of information Tim had combined to some optimistic delusion about the situation he was in.  A delusion he was hoping to keep as positive as he could - as he didn’t want to ruin whatever fantasy Tim made up adding yet another to his path of insensitive destruction.

After all, the last thing he’d ever consider himself was selfless - selfish certainly, but not selfless.  This was all his fault for not being good enough, saying things he shouldn’t have, and not being more sensitive to his immediate family being squibs.  Most the people social workers dealt with had unfortunate situations happen to them - he caused his.  His parents dipped as he wasn’t good enough or worth their bother - rightfully so.

”…before you’ve lost the privilege of being a child.”

He laughed. 

The ridiculous notion that he had any privilege of being a child or had done well for himself pulling him from his thoughts as Tim went delusionally on.  He wished he hadn’t laughed so he stopped himself quickly, as he attempted to make his expression as blank as he could.  Not realizing his reactive amusement with what Tim said resulted in bit of a smirk on his face as the Tim’s words continued.  A smirk that the emphasis on Tim’s job helped him turn in to a more neutral expression.

He said “ So what’s your job judging you on? “ 

He knew he was right, that Tim was wasting his time on him, but he’d worked enough jobs to understand one did what one was being judged on.  With Mrs. Cunningham, his former muggle social worker, he tried his best as he knew her most her life and knew how much she believed she could save them with it being more than a job to her - he failed.  With Gwynn, his previous ministry social worker, it took escorting Chester to one meeting and seeing the little boys tears as the man was so insensitive he just wrote off the man entirely.  In his mind Tim seemed closer to Mrs. Cunningham with his delusions of the world, and the reality was he was going to fail again.  He saw the disappointment when he failed Mrs. Cunningham and didn’t want Tim to waste his time working to get the same.

Taking another deep breath to try to calm himself and consider his words he hoped he could keep Tim focused on this like a job.  He said slowly trying to be careful with his words “ To make your job easy.  I could sort myself out if you got me my muggle bank account back.  Even without the money Gwynn took.  I'd be good.  Then you could tell me whatever you want me to say to your foreman so they are happy with the job you did. “  Probably a lie, but if he went back to Hogwarts and then returned home and worked winter break perhaps he could scrounge up enough money between that and doing other peoples homework he could start renting a room when he aged out.  With a room he’d have an address which he could use to get more work - aka the plan Mrs. Cunningham had been setting him up for prior.

[Timothy Winchester]

Tigran had this habit of allowing whatever was in his mind to come spilling out into the room with no concept of a filter. On his best days, these were merry ramblings of whatever thing had fascinated him that day. On his worst days, days like these, they were sermons on why he thought he could get along all by himself and why everyone around him who tried to help was wasting their time and their breath.

Both at Hogwarts and here, Tim’s job was to listen to it. Don’t interrupt, don’t intervene, just let the words fly and let him tire himself out.

Tim couldn’t help but wonder if Tigran really knew that he was understood by the man before him. If Tigran really knew that Tim had long ago learned the boy’s patterns, learned what gained and kept his attention, discerned what lines could be crossed and which he had to stay firmly on the other side of. He also wondered if Tigran would ever realize that he didn’t understand Tim quite the same way. It seemed often the young man was sure he had the Potions professor figured out, and yet the more he spoke about the things he thought Tim should do, the clearer it was that he thought of Tim as easy to convince and even easier to fool.

Tim was no fool.

He had seen a hundred kids Tigran’s age come through this very same office saying these very same things. It was as if it was a script passed around among the country’s latchkey children for them all to memorize when they were ushered into the social worker’s office. The same old lines about self sufficiency and how it was a waste to concentrate any effort on them. It wasn’t true when the other kids said it, and it wasn’t true when Tigran said it now.

But Tim just let him say it. He did what he knew he was supposed to do. Don’t interrupt, don’t intervene, tire himself out. When a moment of silence did finally fall over Tigran, Tim picked up the conversation with a sort of calm that Tigran seemed incapable of mustering at that moment.

“No one is judging me on anything. The leadership of this department doesn’t expect anything out of me other than covering my responsibilities. And my responsibility at this moment in time is you.”

Tim stood from his chair and walked a bit around his desk. When he was near Tigran, he sat on the edge and made eye contact with the teen in front of him.

“I want to be very clear here. I am not going to turn you loose to your own devices. I am not going to take any of your suggestions to push you back out there so you can figure it all out on your own. I know that you’re used to getting out of things that you don’t want to do, and I know you’re used to people letting you go so they don’t have to deal with your pushback. But you are here in my office and have been made my responsibility, and my responsibility you remain. I have dealt with kids who’ve protested far more vehemently than you, and they are still are under my supervision to this very moment. I have fought tougher fights than any fight you can give me.”

It was a bit blunt, but he’d recognized a while ago that is what Tigran really needed.

“Before you are two options. One is the option where you work with me and together we create a course of action that gets you back on track in a way that includes some of what you’d like to do. Two is the option where you don’t let your protesting go, you fold your arms and close yourself off, and I am left to create a plan for you that you probably won’t like. I’m happy to do either one of those things, but I would imagine one of those is far more attractive than the other.”

[Tigran Razi]

The last thing he was doing was breaking any fantasy land belief that Tim held that he wasn’t being judged by someone for every action he took within the Ministry.  He’d watched his father be judged by his Ministry co-workers for being a squib who the only reason he had a job at the Ministry was his grandfather’s influence.  He’d watch his grandfather weld that influence within the ranks of the Razi family using judgement as justification for whatever direction he wanted to influence things.  The Ministry was run by people who were better than his grandfather, and whose influence didn’t fade like his grandfather’s did the minute he got sick which was months before his actual death.

Though he was unable to keep his face completely blank to Tim’s statement with eyebrows raising and him looking at Tim with an expression of skepticism. 

He instinctually took a step back when Tim rounded his desk to sit on the front of it but stopped himself before it became two steps.  He even tried to keep looking at Tim as the man watched him while talking, but at the word pushback his eyes drifted towards the side of the room looking for anything to distract him from this conversation.  He took a deep breath attempting to calm himself as Tim went on about how he’d somehow become one of Tim’s responsibilities before returning to look at Tim mostly to keep track of where he was.

He said nothing, but he had zero intention of giving Tim a fight.  Well unless Tim wanted him to do something stupid, or worse something that would give his extended family any sort of leverage or desire to get leverage over him.  He suspected most of the getting out of things he didn’t want to do on Tim’s docket was related to his purposeful tanking of his own academics - which to Tim’s likely predictable regret would continue.

He said “ While I’m sure option two of imperio’ing me into some sort of puppet would be entertaining for you.  Let’s just try option one. “