Golden Tears

[Timothy De Luca]

Timmy was not having a good day. He was lost. He had forgotten his map, which never happened before. Now, he did not know where he was, and he was scared. This place was not home, and it was hard to be around so many children. Timmy was trying to be a big boy and not cry, but it was hard. It was getting late, and he did not function well when he was tired. His mommy always told him to go to sleep when he was tired, but he couldn't sleep just anywhere. He was aimlessly wandering the halls. He was trying to remember his steps. Mommy said to track them when he forgot where something was. Timmy hopped it would work for this situation too.

There were too many ghosts roaming the halls. Timmy did not like them. They made him feel cold, and they made him feel fear. Fear was like a cloud that crawled into his mind and shook it all up. Tummy did not know how to handle his fear yet. Timmy was not scared of much, but ghosts drove him mad. The first year had chose the wrong floor to get lost on. Timmy had gotten close to where he was before. He was set on finding his way back to his house. "Boo!" A ghost flew from out the wall and right in Timmy's face. A sharp scream came from the Hufflepuff, and tears began to stream down his face. He bent down to the ground and covered his face in his hassle crying. He heard laughter and giggling. Why was their laughing? Fear wasn't funny.

 

[Isaiah Jeffreys]

Isaiah Jeffreys had been looking for a brand new place that he could read. he had his book under his arm, and the wand in his pocket. He was always looking for some place that he could sit and relax. He was always trying to find a way for him to be able to read in complete peace. Something he hadn't really had until Hogwarts. Isaiah was very protective of his younger siblings, and also very hands on when it came to looking after them. He worked hard with them, and did for some parts act like a parent towards them. He was always happy to do so also. He loved his siblings, he would do anything for them. They meant everything to Isaiah. He was incredibly protective about them, and being in Hogwarts without them was just about one of the most difficult things that he had ever done. The only thing which made it better was the fact that he was able to get some more reading done, and spend a lot more time alone. It had been a while since he could really do that. Now, on this particular day, he had been looking for a good place to read, and had ended up in the brother hood.

After having spent some time in there when he had decided he was actually a little bored and wanted to go for a walk. He walked out of the room and heard a voice saying boo. Probably a ghost, since they seemed to do that, and he also heard the incredibly sharp scream, unable to stop himself, he darted towards it, wand in hand, though he wasn't exactly going to be able to use it. He stopped short, when he then heard crying, as he got nearer the sound. He turned a corner and noticed it was just a boy who appeared to be crying. Isaiah immediately pocketed his wand, and began to walk over. "Hey," he said quiet and calmly, crouching down so that he was slightly more level to the boy. "Are you alright? Did the ghost scare you" he asked with an encouraging tone that he used on his siblings when they were upset. "It's gone now" he didn't know if that would help the boy but it was worth a try. This boy did honestly remind him of his siblings. He kept his dark green eyes on the boy, waiting for some form of response.
​

 

[Timothy De Luca]

Timmy did not know why he was shaking. He never shook like this unless he was cold and did not have a thick enough blanket. Was he cold? Sometimes his body did things that he did not understand, like it was now. He wished that he was able to control everything his body did. He hated getting goosebumps, he wished that he didn't get them when he was cold. They never helped him get warm like Mommy told him they would. They just made his skin look ugly. Timmy did not like to look ugly. He always wanted to look pretty. There were so many pretty people at this school. It was overwhelming. At home, he only saw a few people that he thought were pretty. His mother was one of them. Of course his mother was pretty. She had to raise him and help him. The least Timmy could do was say she was pretty.

Timmy stayed in his place and cried. He wanted his mother. His mom would know what to tell him. He regretted coming to this place now. He was too far away from his mother, and he missed her so much. She wasn't there when the boys in his room just kept talking and talking. Fickles was the closest thing with him that reminded him of home. He didn't even have a picture of his mother. The moving pictures scared him. He thought they were really weird. He wanted them to stay still. Someone spoke to him. Timmy did not want to listen to anyone. He wanted his mother, and she was not here to help him. He shook his head trying to get the person to go away. He didn't know what words to use. His brain was clear of all possible words to say. He couldn't open his mouth. The boy cried even harder due to frustration. He was so stupid. He could't even say what he wanted.

 

[Isaiah Jeffreys]

Isaiah had plenty of experience dealing with his younger siblings when they were upset, there had been that period of time, when his father had been a little bit absent and it had been up to Isaiah to look after them, so he knew that it wasn't the easiest thing to calm people down. But, this boy in front of him seemed to just be shaking, and he didn't seem to hear what Isaiah had said. He was at a little bit of a loss. Of course, the simplest thing would be to try to find a professor, but with a quick glance around himself to see if they were close to any rooms, but all it appeared that they were surrounded by were elective classes. Which wasn't much use to the Ravenclaw who was too young to know who any of the professors were. It was up to him to deal with the crying boy in front of him. He noticed that the boy shook his head at him, but it was unclear what he really wanted from Isaiah. This was trickier than it had ever been with his brothers. It was easier with his brothers. It was clearer what they wanted.

Isaiah, just took a deep breath and decided that he would have to deal with it as if the boy had said something. He leaned away from him, and pulled off the thick grey jumper he'd been wearing and put it around the boy who was still shivering. He waited to see if this young boy would do anything about it. "I'm Isaiah. What's your name? Can you tell me what's wrong?" he asked carefully. Speaking very clearly, and attempting to add a fairly soothing tone to his voice. It was difficult, mostly since, Isaiah though he was maybe a little out of practice, and his brothers were perhaps a little more vocal about their aliments. This boy seemed a little confused about things. "I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to help" he said, wondering if it was the right word choice, but it had been said and done. There was nothing much else that he could actually do about it really. He didn't how else to approach this. He didn't know what was wrong the boy, and he didn't know what he could do to help him, beyond what he'd already done.
​

 

[Timothy De Luca]

This was not what Timmy wanted. This was nit what school was supposed to be. The boy was so scared, and he did not know how to handle his fear. He tried breathing, But it was hard because he was crying. The throat was sore from all wailing he was doing. The Hufflepuff actiona were taking up a lot of his energy. It was energy that he needed in order to get to his bed. Mommy did not like when he slept on the floor, but his mother's opinion on where he slept was not something he cared about. He wanted to comfortable when he slept. There were times when the floor was a better option than a bed.

Timmy felt something heavy on his back. No! He didn't like that. He stood up, and he ripped the jumper from his back and threw it on the ground. It was heavy. This was why the boy hated clothes. They were not comfortable, and sometimes They itched. The only think Tommy had ever liked wearing was the Sorting Hat. The had did not feel like all the other material he had worn. Timmy screamed out of his frustration. Why couldn't he say something to the person? This boy was not happy. The Hufflepuff was being difficult, although he did not think so. His eyes remained closed as he continued his childlike antics. He wanted his mommy. But, she was not here.

 

[Isaiah Jeffreys]

Isaiah admittedly was very confused about what was going on. He honestly didn't know. He couldn't figure out what was wrong with the boy, and he was really trying to figure it out. He couldn't understand why the usual methods that he used with his brothers wasn't working. The boy in front of Isaiah was practically screaming, and Isaiah had no clue how to deal with it. He had no clue as to why a professor hadn't found them, or at least heard all the noise and thought to try and see what was happening. Isaiah couldn't figure out what to do. Generally he was good with kids, he was very good with kids, but this kid. This one kid right here. That was something else. He wanted to help him, he just didn't know how. He watched as his jumper was thrown on to the group. Carefully Isaiah went over and picked it up. Clearly that had been the wrong move, he knew not to do that again. He folded the jumper slightly and put it on the floor beside him.

Keeping his gaze on this weeping boy. Isaiah felt his anger growing, his frustration at being able to do nothing, and that this boy was just so upset. He just wanted to help, he just wanted this kid to stop crying. He wanted to find the ghost that had done this, caused this and beat him until he died again, though he knew it was impossible for him to do such a thing. Isaiah curled his hands into fists, and dug his nails into the soft palm of his hands to stop himself from punching just anything. Punching the ground, or the nearest wall, he was sure that would scare this boy more. He had to bring his anger back under control. "Kid, what's your name?" he asked, knowing that he couldn't really call someone else kid, but it's what he did with his brothers every so often. "Which house are you? I'll see if I can get your head of house" he told him, hoping the boy would respond to him. It would be easier if a professor came to deal with this, rather than Isaiah struggling. They might have a better idea as to why the boy was just so upset about it.
​

 

[Timothy De Luca]

All Timmy felt was fear. The boy hated when his thoughts became a reality. He had been thinking that a ghost would scare him, and one had done their job very well. Now, the boy was tired. He wanted to go to sleep. Timmy sat on his bottom, and he closed his mouth to stop his crying. He still was sniffling with tears running down his face, but it was better than him crying like a menace. He would have wiped away his tears, but he did not even like touching himself. He made taking baths by himself awkward. He would just sit in the water forever. His mother always wondered why he took so long. There were a lot of things about the boy that were strange, but Timmy was not a regular boy with a perfectly functioning brain. His was wired differently, and the doctors were surprised he was able to function so well at his age compared to others. It was just times like these that set the boy back.

Timmy took a look a the boy that was with him. He was ugly. He was not pretty at all. His mother told him that he was not supposed to think anyone was ugly, but this boy was. He did not understand how rude it was to judge people only on appearance. The boy asked his for his name first, and then he asked for his house. Timmy opened his mouth to say something, but he closed his mouth right away. He wanted to tell the boy who he was, but he just couldn't. The water stopped coming from his eyes, and this pleased the boy. His face was still wet, but he did not mind that. It was not an effect that he was able to control. Timmy laid on his side. He was tired. He wanted the boy to go away so he could sleep. He didn't mind sleeping here for the night.

 

[Isaiah Jeffreys]

Isaiah was really at a loss with this boy, in a way he'd never been before. Nothing he did seemed to work. If anything, Isaiah was sure that he was in fact just making things worse. There was no way of improving things for him. he had been trying hard to work with this kid, but nothing was honestly working. Nothing he did seemed to make a difference. They were going round and round in a circle with no one winning, and just a lot of noise. It had been easy for Isaiah to realise that as the boy stared at him, that this kid wasn't normal. He wasn't like his little brothers. He was a little different, it wasn't a bad thing, not by any means, but it meant that Isaiah was having some trouble trying to realised what was going one, and a solution to the issue. He wanted to be able to help him, but he had no idea how to do so. he felt his anger grown and grow. He felt like he could barely take it. He just wanted to help him, and for some reason, the kid was being stubborn and not letting him. It was like trying to pull teeth. Isaiah took a few steps away. He was now fully prepared to go find help.

Isaiah prided himself on being independent and dealing with issues on his own, but this was not something he could deal with in the slightest. he watched as the other boy seemed to have stopped crying, almost as if he was calming, wanting to tell him something. But, when Isaiah just thought he was getting somewhere, the boy just lay down on the ground. Isaiah sighed slightly, and then sat down on the ground in front of him. Isaiah didn't mind staying there, but he wanting to help the kid. "Can you just tell me your house? Please?" he asked the boy who was now lying on the ground. He didn't know how else to ask about it. "I'm in Ravenclaw. The blue house" he told the boy with as much of an encouraging tone as he could. He wanted to find out the house, maybe get somewhere with this kid. "Then, I'll leave. Tell me your house, and I'll go get your head of house, or a professor." he gave a small smile at the kid, hoping that this would help him in deciding to trust him enough to say his house. So that Isaiah might actually be in with a chance of helping him.
​

 

[Timothy De Luca]

Timmy was sure that the boy thought he was stupid. He was partially right. He did not know how to describe what he was feeling. He felt like he should not have started screaming. He felt really bad for making this boy worry about him. He did not need this boy's help. He could do things on his own now. He was a big boy. The only person he needed was his mother. He had not felt embarrassed before. It was a new feeling to the young boy. He did not like it. There were a lot of things that he did not like, but he had to deal with them. His mother said that that was life. Timmy was not liking life anymore. He did not understand that it was not a person he could blame for his problems. The boy wished he could blame everyone else for what was wrong with him. His mother told him that it was not nice, so he could not do that. He just needed to learn skills on how to cope with the things that happened to him.

Timmy saw a look one the boy's face. He tried to understand what it portrayed. He was confused. The voice did not match his face. Timmy pointed to the boy's face, careful not to touch him. "What face?" he asked. It was not an understandable sentence, but he could understand it. That was all that mattered. He ignored the rest of what the boy said. He wanted to know why he was making such an ugly and confusing face. Timmy did not like not understanding things, and he deserved to know what type of face this boy was making. He wished he remembered the boy's name. It started with that one letter. Timmy could not remember because he had been being stubborn at the time.

 

[Isaiah Jeffreys]

Isaiah was trying to figure everything out. He seemed to forget as he stayed with the boy who was now silent, that it really wasn't up to him to deal with such a thing. That he wasn't expected to deal with it in any way, so he shouldn't have to. But, he was. He knew internally that really he could walk away. The boy was fine, as far as he could see there didn't really appear to be anything wrong with him, but he really wanted to be sure he was okay. Isaiah was the kind of person who generally forgot that he too was a kid, and it wasn't up to him to take care of others, that he should only really have to look after himself. But, with no professor's around, or coming to see if this previously screaming boy was okay. Isaiah tried to figure it out, was attempting to try to be a maybe friend to this boy, but it was proving hard. he didn't know what to say to him, something that might make him feel better or explain anything. It was tricky, and honestly Isaiah was really thinking that he should leave. The boy didn't want his help clearly.

As Isaiah leaned away from him, he thought about leaving, that was until the boy pointed at his face and then spoke. The sentence itself didn't make sense. Not to Isaiah. Isaiah wondered what the boy meant by what he said. He wondered if the boy understood simpler sentences. If what he'd been saying had been complicated, "Face, Isaiah" he introduced himself calmly, pointing at his own face, smiling as warmly as he could to the boy, hoping that this would help him. He wasn't sure what the boy had meant about his face, but he hoped that maybe the boy would be encouraged to say something else. That isaiah would be able to get more out of him. Despite not actually having asked for his name. The Ravenclaw realised that maybe asking questions were not the way forward with this strange boy. Perhaps he should let him open up more, and not push him. Perhaps now he was calmer it would be easier.
​

mehh, sorry this could've been better

 

[Timothy De Luca]

Timmy was intent on figuring out what emotion this boy was portraying. He looked mad, but his voice was not loud. It was soft. How did he do that? Timmy really needed to understand this boy. How could he make his face look one way, but his voice sound another way? It was not sitting well with him. Timmy frowned at the boy. He wanted to show that he was not pleased with the boy. He was getting better at expressing his emotions. One day, he was going to be able to do it without trying! Timmy was looking forward to that day. His mother would not have to worry about him making friends anymore. He was sure that his mother would like that.

Timmy cocked his head to the side. The boy spoke, and Timmy remembered his name. His name was Isaiah. "Isaiah face?" he asked confused. His name was Isaiah, and the face he was making was called Isaiah? Timmy felt like giving up and leaving, but he did not have enough energy to walk to his house anymore. He used it all crying! Timmy wanted to sleep. He had a class tomorrow! It was his favorite class. He could not afford to be tired for it. "Timmy." he was comfortable enough to let Isaiah know what his name was. He was probably going to forget the boy's name anyway. He would remember his face though.