Flame Thrower (Blairon)

Insentive

The elevator descended painfully slow. I avoided the insistent gaze of Minerva McGonagall the II, the Ministress. Her eyes were unnerving, too calm that it became creepy. I didn't know how well I was keeping my resolve but I tried my best.

When the elevator stopped, I read the panel. We'd reached basement level 3, which I'd never been to. I didn't have clearance into the basement levels. The metal doors slid open and my heart flatlined slightly. Before me was a single passageway with one singular door at the end.

Immediately I felt I was in danger. This was a horror movie worthy situation.

"This way, Mr Weasley," said the Ministress. "Ron is fine. Mr Weasley is my father," I said, chuckling, trying to calm myself down. The joke didn't seem to be all that funny though, for Vin Diesel and The Rock, McGonagall's bodyguards, hadn't moved an inch. They were waiting for me.

I adjusted my collar and stepped out of the elevator, into the dark hallway. They followed. McGonagall led me forward towards the door. When we neared it, I realized there was a plaque on it that read 'Storage'. Storage? What could a supposedly tech based company need an entire floor solely dedicated to storage for?

McGonagall pulled something out of her pocket, a key card, and scanned it through the card reader attached to the door. It beeped and the door clicked open. I gulped.

"So, Ronald, then-" she began airily, as if all this hallway walking and foreshadowing was wearing her down. "Tell me about yourself."

Inside the Storage room was not what I'd expected. Personally, I thought it'd be a torture chamber with tons of different torture devices strung up on the walls like art. But instead, it was a plane grey interrogation room extremely similar to the ones you'd often see in any cop show.

She sat on one side, her guards grabbed my arms and forced me into the other seat, opposite her.

After massaging my sore arms, I rose an eyebrow. "What?"

"Tell me about yourself," she prompted. I thought for a moment. "Um, well, my name is Ron Weasley, I'm six foot-"

"I already know the basics, Ron," she said patiently, playing with her fingers on the desk. Vin and Dwayne standing on either side of her, close to the door. "Tell me about your gory details. I want to know about you."

I glared at her. "You want to know about Blaise," I said without a hint of hesitation. I wasn't going to pretend I didn't know why I was here. It was evident the moment she asked the first question.

"That, among other things, yes," she said softly. "But first, as I said earlier. Tell me about you."

Now I was confused. Me? She wanted to know about me? Why, so she could exploit my weaknesses to get to Blaise? Use me perhaps?

"I know what you're thinking," she said. "You think I'm going to use you."

My eyes nearly widened but I resisted the earge. Maybe she's reading my mind.

"How's your relationship with your family?" She asked me and my eyebrows dipped. I chose my words carefully. "My mother and I are on spiffing terms. I haven't seen my younger sister Ginny in a while but we're alright. My two oldest brothers are away in the US. Both for work. I plan to see my older sibling Percy soon and the twins I talk to everyday."

Minerva nodded solemnly, playing with her dangling, silver hoop earrings. "I love my family, too. My mother. My father, rest his soul. I can't imagine what I'd do if they were hurt."

She held my gaze as she spoke and my stomach contorted, nervousness crawling through my body, up to my heart.

"Jacobs," she said softly and one of the body guards, The Rock, stepped towards her and gave her a tablet. She thanked him and began scrolling through it, humming. She seemed to find what she was looking for because she smiled and handed the tablet to me.

"What do you make of this, Ron?" She asked. I glared at her and let my eyes fall to the screen.

My mouth fell open.

On the screen was what I guessed was a live feed. A dark, dingy room with chains on the wall.

Strung up to those chains were my mother, Ginny, and Fred and George.

Tears weld up in my eyes.

They looked hurt, tired and scared. A pool of something dark was appearing slowly underneath Ginny. George was unconscious, Fred calling his name. My mother was crying, calling for my fathers name.

I couldn't breath. My throat had constricted. Collapsed in on itself like a raising cake.

When I tried to speak, I only sobbed.

McGonagall took the tablet from my trembling hands, her eyes full of false sympathy.

"I know, it's hard to see," she whispered, putting her hand on mine.

I snapped and suddenly found myself with her collar in my fist, my knife against her throat.

Vin and Dwayne urged forward but McGonagall stopped them with the wave of her hand.

"Let them go." I growled, pushing my knife to her skin, which produced goosebumps. She swallowed slowly.

"What are you going to do, Ronald? You going to kill me? Do it. Slit my throat."

I didn't move. Something washed over me like a tide wave and I nearly dropped my knife, but I only gripped it tighter. I left go of McGonagall, glaring at my hands.

I knew what was happening. I was going into little space.

Fear suddenly surrounded my heart and I did something I'd never expected.

I fainted.