"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: Home, Philip Philips \\
-//-
20th of December, Monday, 1976
"Thank you," James mumbled, spitting out most of the drink Andrea had just given him.
She wiped disgustingly at her tight cladded legs where he had just spat pumpkin juice across his lap and her legs across it. She pulled the juice box she had held for him away, placing it on the floor of the compartment.
"Sirius, you mind?" she asked, gesturing to her wet tights and skirt. Sirius smugly spun his wand in his hand. After his 17th birthday back in November, he was now the only Marauder allowed to do magic outside of school.
He pointed his wand at Andrea and muttered the heating charm, the juice drying off with a slight hiss of steam. "Sorry," James muttered sheepishly, batting his eyes at Andrea.
"You're alright," she chuckled, rubbing his cast covered arm.
Ever since their Quidditch match, James had been walking around with two cast covered arms, making him completely unable to function on his own.
He hated it, but Andrea loved it. Nothing like being physically handicapped to make a guy less intimidating or perfect.
Everyone fell forwards and dropped against their seats again as the train came to a stop in King's Cross Station. James turned to Andrea with a puppy dog pout.
"Pomfrey said I could go to the hospital to get the casts off before Christmas." "OK..." Andrea asked slowly, getting her bag down.
"But before that... Could you put my bag over my arm?" Andrea smashed her lips together to hide her smile, looking at James' sorrowful face.
"Here you go, Prongs," she smiled, holding the backpack arms up for him to slide his casted arms through the holes. James pouted deeply, feeling useless.
"Oh, come on, James. You'll be back to using your arms in no time," Peter chuckled, watching his pitiful face.
James grumbled something incoherently under his breath. Andrea snorted. "Poor, Prongsy. What can I do to make it up to you?" she hummed in a quiet whisper to him.
James' head shot up, his face lighting up. "Oh, I can think of a thing or two," He growled back. "Save if for privacy," Remus groaned, cursing his heightened hearing as he climbed off the train.
"See you for New Year's kids," Peter saluted them all, walking off to meet his mother. Remus took a quick round of hugs before heading off to his dad.
Sirius left the other two and greeted the Potters, pulling them in for a big hug.
Andrea noticed her mother standing next to them. She slowed down, studying her. She was wearing a black blazer over a nice blouse, but the blouse was wrinkled and looked like it held a coffee stain.
