"Gold are your fingers, leaving traces everywhere you go." - Saint Mesa
-// PART THREE - FIFTH YEAR \\-
IN WHICH PLATONIC BECOMES NOT-SO-PLATONIC
OR
THE ONE WHERE EVERYTHING CHANGED
BOOK 2
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// SONG: ABC, Jackson 5 \\
-//-
1st of August, Friday, 1975
One week into the summer holidays, Andrea woke up, reveling in the beauty of not having to worry about classes anymore.
As she got out of bed, she realized the house was unusually quiet. Her father was famous for not knowing how to be quiet when the rest of the house were asleep, so it made her uneasy that there was no sound coming from downstairs.
Since break had started, her parents had been more often at work than at home and she was starting to miss them. She didn't see them all year at school so she at least wanted her breaks with them.
She quickly got dressed and wandered down the stairs, looking for her parents. "Mama? Papino?" she called out.
Stopping in the deserted kitchen she came to the conclusion that they were off at work. Again.
Not wanting to hang around alone, she headed for the fireplace in the den. She grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and stepped into the fireplace. "Potter Cottage!" she called out clearly, throwing the Floo Powder to the ground.
Green flames erupted around her and she felt her surroundings spin with her. As the flames disappeared, Andrea opened her eyes and looked into the Potter's family room.
Last time the Russo's had taken the Floo Network here, they had ended up in the fireplace in the sitting room by the kitchen. But now Fleamont had switched it to the family room fireplace after he spilled hot tea on his toes one evening in fright.
The family room was empty, the worn out, comfy couches standing empty in front of her as the sunlight streamed in through the open, cream coloured curtains.
They had been lucky with the weather this far in their summer vacation. She just hoped it stuck.
"Potter's?!" she called out, stepping into the room. She heard footsteps on the floor above her. "Andie?!" James called back. She headed for the stairs up to the first floor, reaching the landing as James padded out of his room, yawning loudly.
"Where are your parents?" she asked him as greeting. By the state of James' hair, it looked like he had slept in today as well. Well, as 'in' as the early bird James Potter could ever sleep in. It was only 8:30 after all.
James ran a hand through his hair and looked around Andrea as if he could maybe see them downstairs.
"Not here, I'm guessing," he yawned, his voice hoarse and rough with sleep. Andrea huffed in annoyance. "Mine weren't home, either. D'you think they're at work?"
James could tell by her voice that Andrea was starting to get worried. Their parents were working more and more. And the horrible things in the newspapers were starting to outweigh the good.
