Down the hallway, through a set of corridors, and behind a wooden door with a small, shuttered window, Theodore sat at a table, feeling decidedly less ablaze with determination. He'd been through initial questions already -- name, date of birth, occupation, propensity for breaking the law, each answered as politely and succinctly as he was able -- and was now waiting for things to "get serious", as his interrogator had phrased it, whatever that meant. A dictaquill hovered above a stack of parchment, behind a ward where it could not be tampered with, and Theodore considered it, considered reminding himself what he'd said already... but he wasn't quite willing to move. If he moved he was afraid he would fall down, because the truth of the matter was that, no matter how often he'd imagined precisely this happening, no matter how often he told himself that they'd let him go after they saw what a terrible mistake had been made, he was afraid. He doubted he would have a job after they let him go, regardless of what happened here, and that was enough to set him on edge. Finding another would be nearly impossible.
The rattle at the door pulled him out of this unending circular thought process, and he felt a wave of relief pass over him as Melinda Bobbin stepped through, followed by someone who looked like he'd been a gorilla in a past life. That someone waved his wand, and the dictaquill fell atop its stack of parchment, and Theodore wondered if she was here to take him away from this horrible place with it's sterile walls and unfriendly faces.
"Bang the door when you're done," Gorilla said, shutting the door behind his friend. No such luck on the leaving front, then.
"Melinda." It was barely a breath of noise, and Theodore wound his trembling fingers together so she wouldn't see them.