[center][img]http://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjQ0LmI1MDMwMy5XbVZyWlNCU2IzZHNaUSwsLjAA/vtks-vacancy.regular.png[/img]

[img]http://i.imgur.com/IluIs68.gif[/img]
[b][u]Location:[/u][/b] Rowle Household; Train
[b][u]Interacting With:[/u][/b] Ophelia ([@PhunkyPhoebe]), Alva ([@HaleyTheRandom]) and Hyacinthus ([@Celeste])[/center][hr][hr]

It was to fingers brushing his hair, ghosting over the skin of his forehead, that Zeke woke up. His body comfortably melded against the warm covers of his bed, he kept his eyes closed, for the snatches of sleep that would soon become rare once the year started again. The fingers stilled for a moment, before Zeke heard his mother say, [b]"I miss when your hair was like this."[/b]

Eyelids fluttering blearily open, Zeke groped for his side-fringe, weaving his fingers through his hair just in time to see the last wisps of brown-black be overrun by maniacal crimson. [color=f26522]"I didn't know it turned back when I slept,"[/color] he said plainly, as his locks became longer in his hands, an unruly nest atop his head.

[b]"Why else do you think I wake you up, rather than make you set a spell on that old Muggle clock you keep?"[/b] Zeke smiled, and flung his arm over his eyes. His mother stood up from where she had been sitting on the bed, and opened the doors of his wardrobe, empty but for one hanging set of clothes. 

Snorting, Zeke threw off the covers, and began to sit up. [color=f26522]"That's not a very flattering nickname for Kymmen."[/color] As if on cue, a pitch-black raven swooped in through the window with the sunlight, and cawed its morning. His mother only tossed his clothes at him and closed the door behind her, and he only laughed.

Pulling off his nightwear to don ripped jeans, a faded tee, and shrug on his robes and sneakers, Zeke wiped the night's sleep away from his eyes and whistled a two-note tune. In a flutter of wings, Kymmen launched himself from the window sill and perched himself on Zeke's shoulder. With the summer slipping away, he bent to pick up his luggage, he felt the public mask be tucked away in his coat pocket, for later use.

His parents were in the kitchen, and after a hearty breakfast together, Zeke found himself at the doorstep, luggage in tow, Kymmen fluffing his feathers in mute and disgruntled protest in his cage. His father pulled him into an embrace, made him promise to work hard, and clapped his shoulder. His face was lined, and when Zeke returned he would find more weariness in the crinkles at the corners of his lips. But Zeke smiled back, as though the concept of his parents ageing didn't hurt as much as it did.

And then his mother enveloped him in her arms. She held him tight, and Zeke returned the hug, feeling the narrow shoulders under him rise and fall with even breath. When she pulled away, she held him by the forearms. Her eyes searched his face, and Zeke knew she was looking at the shock of red hair, the piercing in his frown, and remembering the bright laughter of a boy with black hair who had been well-mannered to all. Zeke hadn't bid them goodbye - not yet, not properly - but he could feel his face turning to stone, the corners of his lips tugging downwards. And his mother knew exactly what he was doing.

She combed the stray strands out of his face as the wind blustered around them, whipping Zeke's robes about his ankles. [b]"I do miss the dark hair,"[/b] she said softly.

When Zeke opened his eyes and stumbled to regain his balance in the bustle of King's Cross, with luggage and crow in hand, he pretended the pinch in his chest was no more than a by-product of Apparition. He took stock of his surroundings, in a lone corridor where no one had seen him. Muggles passed in an oblivious stream, ten feet away. Hastily, Zeke gathered his belongings, and marched out into the brightly-lit platform.

After hurtling himself at a pillar, Zeke was on Platform 9 3/4. There was the usual blend of veteran students, come back for another year at the grind, and first-years who all looked pasty and quaking. Zeke manouvred his way around them, almost twice as tall as some of them. He attracted strange looks for his hair, but found himself unbothered. In the crushing mass, he heard flashes of voices that sounded familiar, glimpses of faces none too strange, but in the swell of the crowd had no desire other than to make his way to the train. 

Swinging himself onboard, he hauled his things with him and prowled the aisle. He came across a compartment with a well-known red-head, and he quietly slipped himself in. Slumbering, Ophelia had her cat in her lap. Carefully, Zeke set his trunk and cage up on the seat opposite her. But those feline eyes seemed fixated on Kymmen, so Zeke unlatched the wire door and let Kymmen ride on his shoulder.

He swore that cat gave him a dirty glare for that.

Quickly leaving a note on his luggage with an echoed snatch of conversation he had caught on the platform ([color=f26522][i]Remember to write your mother, sweet one[/i][/color]) and guessing Ophelia would be able to recognise his handwriting, Zeke slipped back out onto the narrow corridor again. There were third-years zipping up and down the walkway, but their steps faltered and became paces again when one of them collided against his midriff and caught his glower. He walked for some time, before he came across a compartment with a blonde pixie.

He poked his head into Alva's compartment, leaning in and tipping Kymmen precariously so he squawked in indignant outrage and flapped his wings for balance. [color=f26522]"I can't tell if you avoided the sun like a ghoul this summer, or if I'm remembering you tanner,"[/color] he chimed with a smirk that broadened into a smile. [color=f26522]"How were your hols?"[/color]

Then, he noticed that there was another boy with her, and at once his eyes skittered over him. Septum ring, dyed blonde hair. Hyacinthus, Hufflepuff fifth-year. Zeke gave him a nod of the head in salutation. [color=f26522]"All right,"[/color] he said, by way of greeting.