Flame Thrower (Blairon)

Molly's

Five Years Later

Ron's POV

I paced around my living room. Excitement bubbled through my body like boiling water. But I was nervous as hell. Dream doesn't just hire anyone. You have to be the best of the best to get a job at Dream and I didn't know if I was the best. Though I was pretty hopeful when I got the email that their last software engineer retired and that they had seen my college results and wanted me to go for an interview.
That interview was today.
Dream Incorporated was the biggest holding company in Silver Lake and I really hope I get the job. But then again, hope can be misleading... 
"Ron, you need to calm down mate," Harry sighed and I rounded on him, aghast. "They'd be crazy not to hire you. You're amazing at whatever software engineers do. I know it," he said and I rolled my eyes. "They might think otherwise. And what do you know? Your in the Police Academy?" I asked and he chuckled. "Hey, you should head out now. It's almost ten," he suggested and my eyes widened as I stared at my watch. "Bye mate!" I shouted and I ran out of the door of our apartment, leaving behind my bespectacled, chuckling friend. I managed to get a cab and stared up at the large buildings passing by as I drove to Dream Inc. My stomach felt queezy and I needed to have some chocolate. It always calmed my nerves down. Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my pocket and I jumped slightly before putting it to my ear. "Good luck for the interview Ron!" Screamed the voice next to my ear and I winced, pulling my phone away for a minute. "Blimey Hermione. Don't scream like that, you're making my ears ring," I said and I chuckled when Hermione muttered a rude 'ugh' that I probably wasn't supposed to hear. "You remember what I told you about interview etiquette, right?" She asked hesitantly and I rolled my eyes. "How could I forget. We've been working on it for a week now," I replied and she sighed in relief. "Don't mess it up, Ron..... And good luck," and with that, she hung up. I bit my lip. Good luck me...

Two Hours Later

Ron shrugged off his blazer as he entered the back room and kitchen of Molly's. The diner had been in his family for years and after his mother had gotten her head on straight, he agreed to work there while he was still attending college. His father on the other hand, was still a bit out of line when it came to Ron. He put his formal wear in his backpack before putting on his maroon apron that read 'Molly's Diner' in cursive in the corner on top of a chest pocket which kept three pens and a straw tucked away inside. "Mum?" He called and Mrs Weasley poked her head through the door of the back room. "Yes dear?" She replied and Ron smiled at her. "Can I start early today? The interview was quicker than I thought it would be," he said and Molly grinned. "Of course. You can take orders. I'm tired of writing things," she chuckled airily and Ron nodded, taking his notebook from his locker. He went through the door his mother had poked her head through and took in a large breath of air. Baked goods and chocolate pancakes. That's what the diner always smelled like and Ron lived for it. It was quite therapeutic. The diner wasn't very full this afternoon. A woman in the corner was typing, concentrating on her laptop. There was a group of men at the bar, laughing loudly as they chugged their scotch. Two businesses looking woman leaning over the table to gossip with each other and a lone man staring out the window two booths away from them.
The usual.
Ron walked over to the bar first, cringing slightly at the men as they quietened down as he approached. "Would you like anything else?" He asked and they all chuckled heartily. "Your number peaches," one of the men said and Ron rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry but that's not on the menu. Anything else?" He asked with a raised eyebrow and the men howled with laughter. "Come on love. It'll be worth your while," he said, leaning over the bar so far that Ron scrunched up his face because the man's breath smelt horrible. "No. I suggest you leave," Ron sneered, turning around to leave but was pulled back so hard his stomach slammed onto the counter, making him gasp.

BANG!

Ron staggered back and his mother ran out of the kitchen. Everyone was watching in fear. The man that had been jeering at Ron fell to the ground, blood pooling around his head. His eyes open yet lifeless. The man that had been alone in a booth near the business woman was swinging a gun in his hand. He looked around and Ron froze when walked up to the bar. "Sorry for the mess," he muttered, sliding his hand onto the counter before leaving the diner, it's  occupants in a state of shock and fear. Ron stared at the spot where he had been before looking down at the counter. A fat wad of money lay on the clean surface and on top of it was a paper. Ron shakily picked it up and immediately gasped when be read it, dropping it too the floor when he finished.

Prego picollo
-La tua fiamma

Or in English,

You're welcome little one
-Your Flame