Elements
Ezra tossed and turned unable to find a comfortable position. With a groan she leaned over and turned on her beside lamp. The digital clock's glowing numbers revealed it was 3 am. She would never get back to sleep. Tossing off her sheets he walked to her balcony. Standing she turned left and right in a vain attempt to catch a stray breeze, but the night was still. Ezra, who had went by Z since she was five, lived in Wellington, New Zealand. They were towards the end of their winter (August). The weather had been unusually warm. Winters in New Zealand were usually around 59 F. Instead it was around 70. Just the other day, she was able to go surfing. The warm weather coupled with a strange sense of unease that had been plaguing her lately, Z was unable to get any sleep.
Stepping back into her room, she decided to go running. She opened her drawer and pulled out her black shorts, and tee. After dressing, she slipped on her running shoes and went down stairs. When she reached the entrance to the living room, she paused to listen in. All she heard were snores. Peeking in she saw her mother passed out on the couch with her latest conquest, the floor decorated with empty tequila and beer bottles. Shaking her head in disgust, Z leaned over and viewed her mother's latest choice of male. He was a ruddy faced blond who was no doubt rolling in money and would never stay with her mother. Z's family were direct descents of the Maori tribe who were the first settlers of New Zealand. While certain people viewed them as a part of history, the stuffy white men her mother chased after, and all the men in general, wanted nothing to do with them. They didn't want to taint their lily white community with the two tribe folk. Sighing, she covered her mother with a blanket, leaving her "boyfriend" bare and slightly shivering. Slipping on her headphones, she turned on her music and began jogging down the street. After about two blocks, she stopped and glanced around. She felt like she was being watched, she looked into the shadows, but saw no one. Chalking it up to her own prevailing sense of unease, she turned her music back on and gave her self over to the pulsing beats of Taking Back Sunday.
Kingsley Shaklebolt moved from his pocket of shadow, the glow of the streetlights twinkling off of his golden hoop. He had found her. The Order would be most happy. Lighting a cigarette, he moved stealthily through the shadows to trail the girl. He was highly upset with the lax security of the muggles. To let someone as precious as her wander through the streets unprotected was heinous. If it didn't go against the protocol, he would give them a stern hexing. It was an hour later before she returned to her home. She moved into the glow of the porch lights, and Kingsley's breath caught. By Gods, she was the splitting image of her mum. From her thick black hair plaited down her back to her hazelnut skin and dark brown eyes. Kingsley felt of the stab of memories threatening to overtake him. He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. Now was not the time to dwell on the past. Stepping back in to the shadows, he threw his cigarette on the ground and apparated back to headquarters.
Kingsley opened the door of number 12 Grimmauld Place and gently closed the door behind lest he wake up the portrait of Mrs. Black. The house was quiet. None of the Order members were here yet. Walking towards the kitchen where they ran the meetings, he could hear the muffled voices. Peeking in he saw three of the Order's youngest members save Ginny Weasley whose mother had finally let her join but not yet become active. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Ms. Hermione Granger. It had been three years since the murder of Dumbledore. Harry had never really healed. Since then he and Ron had been on the search to find the remaining horcurxes. So far they had found two on their own: a trophy from Riddle's Hogwarts days, and an old pensieve from in a cave in America. They were maturing before his very eyes. As he stood in the entrance and watched them laugh at something Ron had said, he noticed that they were maturing physically as well. They were all nineteen, Harry's birthday passing a week ago. Harry was much the same, same unruly black hair and glasses that housed his green eyes which shined with intelligence. He had grown a foot and with Moody's extensive training, he had filled out. Same with the Weasley kid. Gone was the lanky frame though he was still very slim. He had Harry by only a few inches now. The Granger girl hadn't grown anymore so she was around 5' 4" and had to crane her neck to look at her best mates. She was small, but her body packed lean muscles. She had let her rambunctious hair grow and had found a way to tame it to curls. It still proofed after training though. Kingsley felt a stirring of pride for his young charges.
Clearing his throat, he stepped into the room. Harry jumped out of his chair and glared at the tall black man he had come to trust over the years. "How was your mission Kingsley?" he bit out. Kingsley shrugged noncommittally and tugged on his earring. He knew Potter was upset that the Order had been excluding the younger members from recent meetings. He had felt bad in the beginning, but knew it was for Harry's sake. Harry sighed once he realized he wasn't going to get any information from Kingsley. "Suppose we'll have to sit this one out was again," Hermione said her cinnamon eyes flashing with irritation. She and Ron stood.
"Sorry" was all Kingsley would say.
"Fine. We'll just be leaving now." The group began leaving as the Order members finally showed and began taking their places at the large kitchen table. Kingsley went over to close the door and noticed the Weasley twin Fred and George were still in the hallway. He watched them slip each of the golden trio a pair of extendable ears before coming in and sitting down. Kingsley shot them a disapproving look which they both returned with a grin. Shaking his had and trying not to smile, Kingsley closed the door and called the member to order.