A young man sat shrouded in wispy shadows of the dancing flames that played before him within the cemented fireplace. His wrist joint circled as he swished the amber liquid inside of the small glass in his hand absentmindedly.

His posture was relaxed and laid back as he sat stretched against his recliner, his feet upon the maple wood coffee table with his eyes closed. His whole countenance screamed that he had no worries in the world, but that theory was easily shattered as his tanned lids slid open.

Emerald green eyes stared at the fire, the flames reflected by his gorgeous orbs was a testament to his true state of mind, and only one word fit…unease.

He narrowed his gaze in frustration as the prospect of awaiting his boss' call caused him to be come restless and then the feeling disappeared. He felt increasingly uneasy as the sound of his clock's constant ticks and tocks echoed through the nearly silent room, yet the sound of the fire's popping cinders sounded both so loud and soft.

It irritated him to no end, as the reason for his unease sat upon the brink of his thoughts and it had yet to fall. Just constant teetering, making him grit his teeth in anger as his answer slipped just beyond his reach.

He sighed in frustration as he blew strands of black hair that had fallen into his face away from his eyes. He lifted his unoccupied hand and raked it through his hair, causing the ends to flip out all around. It truly looked good on him, especially when it fell into his eyes slightly, but he hated his hair's outrageousness and the way it would fall into his eyes exactly when he didn't want it too.

The amber liquid in his glass, also known as rum swished inside the glass as he moved stiffly, causing a few droplets to fall out. His eyes stared at the fire uneasily as his body twitched restlessly.

He rubbed his forehead tiredly and his hand brushed against the long ago forgotten scar upon his forehead…the lightning bolt scar that had been there for the past thirteen years and it clicked.

His whole body went tense with shock and the glass of rum slipped from his limp hand. His green eyes went wide as his face went white. Fear, anger, and pain crept into his body and he was not aware of the sound of glass shattering upon his wooden floor.

He should've known…the way his boss had sounded so resigned…defeated…and sad on the laptop communicator he owned. He knew, and now all he could do was wait to see what job assignment had for him and his friends.

Kyomari Takiume leaned back in a rather resigned manner, and awaited the call that would lead him back to his daunting past, the life he'd been forever trying to forget and the name…the name of Harry Potter.