"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: Geronimo, Sheppard \\
-//-
31st of August, Tuesday, 1976
On the day before the departure to Hogwarts, Andrea was sure of two things. One, she was excited to see her friends again. Two, she was going to kill James Potter.
She ran down the stairs for the billionth time and collapsed onto the floor, panting as sweat dripped down her face.
"What are you doing? There are still four more laps to go!" James complained, squatting in front of her.
Andrea looked up at him with murder in her eyes. "Kill – yourself," she panted out. James pouted at her. "Come on. One more round and I'll feed you."
Andrea moaned from the floor.
"Leave her alone, James," Remus scolded him as he looked on with pity. "Leave them both. Look at Pads. He's not built for stuff like this."
James looked up the top of the grand staircase of the Russo's home. Sirius was currently crawling up the top three stairs. James jogged up the stairs, stopping by Sirius' struggling form.
"Sirius, you need to stay in shape! What if McGonagall lets you of the ban for next year?" he challenged him, trying to get him to move.
While he was distracted, Remus and Peter dragged Andrea away and gave her a drink from the water bottle James had taken off her after their last break from running up the stairs.
"Curse you, Potter! Listen to Remmy. I'm not built for this shit. I quit. I quit Quidditch."
James put his hands on his hips and let out a long breath. "Alright fine. Let's get some lunch."
Andrea perked up at that and let Remus pull her to her feet. He gave her a small nudge, sending her in the direction of the kitchen.
She could hear Billy Joel playing from the small radio in the kitchen through the archway and smiled as she figured her parents were there. Maybe they'd be up for making them some food.
She led the way into the kitchen, only to scream in horror when she entered.
Andrea, James and Peter all put a hand up to cover their eyes as her parents separated from their snogging by the kitchen island.
"Ew, gross!" Andrea screamed, still not looking. "No offence Mr and Mrs Russo, but you are too old to be kissing in public," James moaned, the vision burned into his brain.
"Suddenly not so hungry," Andrea grumbled, slowly backing out of the kitchen while Sirius guided her.
"And no offence to you, but fuck you!" Aisha called to the kids. "Yeah!" Marco added, flipping them all off. "It's not your age that matters, it's how young you feel!"
