[Lazy Moon] The Afternoon Turns Pink. [Ezra]

One thing Amara would never tire of were rainy days in London. The witch absolutely adored heavy thunderstorms and rain showers. Everything about it from the smell of them, walking around in them, the sound of the heavy drops pounding on her window. Perhaps this is why she continued to stay in London after all of these years of traveling. The city truly was her one and only home. It late on a Monday morning and the dark haired woman slowly rose from her bed. She had just returned from various parts of the world, touring for the world wide fashion week. New York, Milan, Paris. Now she was finally home.

The witch tidied up her flat that she shared with her own father and her young son. She had arrived rather late the night before via the Floo network, and had almost immediately fallen asleep right when she had gotten home. Amara found a note on the kitchen table from her father reading:

Mara,

Took Liam out to the countryside to gather some fresh groceries at the market. It has been a long few weeks for you, rest up and take a day to yourself. See you later tonight.

Dad.

Amara folded up the piece of paper and scratched her head, which was a mess of dark, almost black locks falling in every direction. After a few hours of taking a long bath and pampering herself alone in her flat, Amara began to feel bored. She glanced over at the large grandfather clock standing in the corner. It was only one o'clock in the afternoon. She still had many hours to kill. Deciding that she wanted to enjoy her favorite type of day, the witch dressed herself in appropriate attire for the rainy elements. She wore a pair of skinny black slacks, a loose almost sheer black shirt underneath another black sweater. Overtop, she wore a long black hooded cloak and a pair of tall black lace up boots. A long sterling silver chain was worn around her neck with a large chunk of quartz crystal as a pendant. She had recently blessed it in her full moon ritual, and could feel the strong magical weight against her heart where it rested.

Pulling her cloak up, the witch put on her favorite pair of oversized circular shaped sunglasses and exited her flat. To blend in with her muggle surroundings, she carried with her a large black umbrella which protected her from the rather heavy downpour. Rainy days were also good because paparazzi were less likely to find her. A familiar path, Amara made her way to her set destination, Diagon Alley.

Strolling on the cobblestone, the witch made her way through Diagon Alley. Through the rain, Amara could hear the sound of music from down the path. Amara followed the sound, and figured out that she was heading to a set of bright yellow doors. They were a start contrast to the rest of the rather gloomy atmosphere. Looking at the sign by the door "LAZY MOON SMOKE EMPORIUM" Amara became immediately intrigued. It seemed like a good place to hide out for a while.

Amara Cast entered the shop, and was immediately welcomed by beautiful plants that were on either side of the door. She jumped a little in surprise, but thanked them graciously as she stepped into the shop. There was a thick cloud of smoke that filled the entire shop, yet there was no one to be seen. Mondays were notoriously the slowest days of business in Diagon Alley. Amara knew this from experience when she worked at a pub down the way before she was discovered and became a famous super model.

"Hello?" Amara spoke over the soft music that was playing. The same dreamy music that had lured into the shop. She removed her cloak and sunglasses so she could get a better look around the room.

"Rain, rain go away," Ezra's voice echoed loud and completely key over the faint music of The Emporium. Thankfully, none of his employees were around -- he sent Collin home hours ago due to lack of business -- not that the man would have held back anyway. Ezra had the ability to have absolutely zero shame. Whether that is a blessing or a curse remains to be seen. The disheveled store owner was exceptionally out of sorts this particular rainy, Monday morning -- wearing an old baggy t-shirt and jeans that were splattered with various droplets of vibrant paint. No customers meant it was a day of creation. And in this case, that meant lots of messy arts and crafts.

"Come -- " Pause for a quick thrash of color. " -- again... some..." Ezra's brushstrokes mimicked his choppy version of the song. "... other day!" He piped up with a grin, taking a step back to have a look at his hard work. What had started off as beautiful and abstract painting of a pair of lady legs had somehow grown into something vegetational. At the back of the mystery woman's knees her limbs slowly morphed into the the base of a tree, where her feet would be was now an immense system of roots that swam to the bottom of the canvas. He frowned. How did that happen? Even his women were turning into plants. Ez decided he was spending entirely too much time in the garden.

The dark-haired man was so distracted by his own thoughts that he hardly heard the bell that signaled someone had arrived. "Hmpf," He huffed, chucking his supplies down lazily before turning to see who had stepped inside. Typically, The Emporium had two types of customers -- regulars coming to replenish supplies and catch up, or strangers who were drawn to the bright building like moths to a flame. In this case, it was the latter. Ezra made his way from the back of the store where he had set up his mini-studio, wiping the wet paint from his hands carelessly onto his faded gray shirt. It didn't take long for him to recognize the dark haired guest.

"Amara Cast," Ezra called out loud, not bothering to worry how forward he was being. The two were by no means close in school, but he recognized the witch as a peer from Slytherin. How could he forget her, really? She was practically the center of every boy at Hogwarts unrealistic fantasies. It appeared she had grown up a bit since their school years, but she was still oogle-worthy. "Oh! You can help me with this," Ezra, forgetting the normality of small talk, led her wordlessly to where he had been painting. "What does this look like you?" He asked, standing next to the huge canvas, his arms flailing around as he presented his work.

Only moments after the inquiry left her lips, Amara looked over behind the counter to see Ezra emerging from the back studio. The witch stood there and blinked at him, recognizing the wizard immediately. It had been years since she had seen him; they had been in the same year at Hogwarts. How distant of a dream Hogwarts seemed now, especially after the war. As she stood there wordlessly for a moment, she noted the bright paint splatters that covered his gray t-shirt, hands, bits of his hair... and face. Her blue-eyed gaze stopped at his face, and he greeted her directly by name.

"Hello Ezra." Amara greeted him, offering him a small, genuine smile. She didn't know why, but she was pleased to see him. The former Slytherin had never really interacted with him much in the past, but she had remembered him from being in many of the same classes. Looking at the dark haired wizard before her, she wondered why she never really took notice to him as much before. Perhaps it was because as Ezra had thought, Amara was deemed 'oogle-worthy', therefore was continually being pursued by her male classmates. He had somehow managed to slip through the cracks. To be honest, Amara never really cared much about houses and social order. This was mostly due to the fact that she had no idea who her mother was, so she wasn't sure if she was actually a pureblood. To this day she has no idea that her mother is in fact a Veela. Which explains a lot.

Before Amara knew it, she was being led back to the studio room where Ezra had previously been before she showed up. It was completely random, but she went with it. The situation did not seem odd to her, and she did not mind Ezra's forward and open nature. The tiny witch finally reached the work of art to be critiqued. She stood before a large canvas that was a little taller than she was while it was on it's easel.

"Hmmm..." the woman's eyes narrowed as she let her sight drift in and out of focus. The brush strokes were wide and impressionistic, yet there was a familiar form to it. The color pallete was a wide range of bright pastels to deep shades of blues and greens, which somehow managed to work perfectly. Amara tilted her head slightly to the right, her dark hair falling over her shoulder. Her freckled nose scrunched up a little as she looked at the painting, something was so familiar about it, as if she'd seen the subject before. She could not quite place her finger on it. The colors and texture suggested plant life and vines, yet the form seemed different than that of any plant Amara knew. Oh, wait...

"Forest nymph?" She guessed. She tore her gaze from the large work of art, back at the wizard who was flailing his arms wildly to various parts of the painting.