In case you didn't read the note I posted in one of my THR chapters, I'm sorry it's been so long since I've written anything for this fic. Andrea Sterling is based on a person I know in real life, who up until very recently I considered to be my best friend and my sister in all but blood. We had an awful, messy, extremely painful falling out a few months ago, and it simply hurt too much for me to attempt to write anything from her perspective - as my loyal readers may note, I also wrote about Andy as little as possible in THR, though I promise that will be ending shortly. It still hurts, of course, but I'm coming to terms with the fact that she and I will never be friends again (not an overstatement, as I'm paraphrasing exactly what she's told me on several occasions now), and I'm learning to appreciate the other friends I have in my life much more than I have in the past (I know some of you are reading this, and please know I love you dearly). Now that the wounds have healed over a bit (though they're still painful as hell when I start picking at the scabs), I felt I was ready to continue writing about Andrea and James. I hope some of you are still interested in finding out what happens next.

So, without further ado, here's Fourth Year:

Fourth Year

Andrea contemplated the book sitting on the desk in front of her, open to a blank page, for quite some time before writing in it.

James? she scrawled after much deliberation about whether she should say anything at all. Though the Potter boy had given her this journal to communicate with him over breaks, and she'd replied to the limericks he occasionally sent her with sarcastic or vaguely annoyed comments of her own, she'd never used it to initiate a conversation with him before. But after she'd read in a special nighttime edition of the Daily Prophet that his brother had been attacked in Diagon Alley, she felt the circumstances called for it.

It was a little while before he replied, and she wondered whether he was with Albus at St. Mungo's now. She'd thought about sending Rose an owl, and probably would in the morning…but the Ravenclaw had Malfoy to comfort her. Last Andy had heard, Fred and Roxanne were out of the country with their parents on vacation, too high up in the Swiss Alps for owls to fly. Lily Potter was likely traumatized. Their parents were undoubtedly more concerned with Albus than their other children, and with good reason. But that meant James Sirius Potter had no one. She didn't want to admit it, but some part of her cared about that, was even upset by it. His attempts to distract her while she was home every holiday were misguided, but she understood the sentiment. Though she wasn't quite sure how he had become her responsibility when she hadn't wanted to be penpals with him in the first place, she understood it fell upon her to check on him now. Just like her sense of justice wouldn't permit her to stand back and watch a younger or more defenseless student get picked on, she knew she simply wouldn't be able to sleep until she at least tried to help him.

Hey, he finally responded, handwriting even messier than it usually was.

How is he?

Alive. After a few moments, he added, He's home now, and asleep. Rose and Malfoy just left, Lily's upstairs, and the grownups are fighting in the kitchen about whether we should go back to Hogwarts.

Do you want to go back?

They couldn't keep me away if they tried.

Drat. For a minute there I'd gotten my hopes up.

You won't get rid of me that easily.

Andy waited a minute or two before asking, And how are you?

His response was blunt, his normal bluster and sarcasm gone. I'm not the one who almost died.

That's not an answer

Why do you care?

Good question. I shouldn't.

There was a long pause before she received a response. Finally, he wrote: He's my little brother. How do you think I feel?

Shitty, I assume.

You know, I've never even asked – do you have siblings?

I have Michael. He's older than me, and he's hardly ever around now that he doesn't have to be, but he's still my brother. And I'm sorry.

Like the flicking of a lightswitch, his defenses were back up. If I'd known you'd care so much, Andrea, I'd do traumatizing things more often. When we get back, I'll make sure to fall off my broomstick, or jump in the Black Lake-

Words were still appearing on the page as she wrote, Don't make me regret it, prat.

Admit it, you'd miss the old me if I suddenly started acting normal. You like my surprises, even when I'm an arse.

She put the quill down and closed the journal, telling herself that last message didn't even deserve a response…though in reality, she simply didn't know how to answer it. Would she miss him?

…Not to be outdone, several other Weasley relatives have recently instigated romantic entanglements in the hopes of gaining media attention, and with the most unlikely of parties. Though the longstanding fling between half-werewolf Teddy Lupin and part-Veela Victoire Weasley has been well-documented and comes as a surprise to no one (but will they ultimately fail when Teddy inevitably fails to propose? If they don't, I'll eat my Quick-Quotes Quill), it will astonish many that the incredibly eligible Hogwarts heartthrob James Sirius Potter has become quite "serious" with a previously unknown Muggleborn student, Andrea Sterling. Yes, love is in the air at Hogwarts, with Valentines Day still months away, and the old adage that there is someone for everyone is proving to be shockingly accurate….

Andrea nearly threw her copy of the Daily Prophet on the floor of the Great Hall. The part of Rita Skeeter's article that mentioned her was small, only a throw-away line, really – the bulk talked about Rose's unlikely friendship (and, as Skeeter implied, romance) with Scorpius Malfoy. Still, it aggravated her to no end, though there was some other emotion there as well; she couldn't identify it, and so pushed it to the side to deal with her rage and disbelief instead. Her? Date James Potter? James Sirius Potter? Godric, she could barely stand to be around him, let alone-

She felt a tap on her shoulder and spun around on the bench, hands clenched into fists. None other than James himself stood behind her, flanked by Fred Weasley and Rose's brother Hugo on either side, an infuriating grin plastered on his face and a swagger in his step.

"Care to kiss me, Sterling? We are dating, after all, and I am 'incredibly eligible'…" The boy moved to give her a peck.

"Oh for the love of Circe- get out of my face, Potter, if you know what's good for you."

"I've never said I do," he replied, still leaning toward her.

Other students sitting around her were beginning to notice, pointing and smiling and whispering in a way that made her certain they too had read today's newspaper. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't let this happen. For more than three years, she'd worked to build a reputation at this school, one that would protect her and her growing circle of friends (which thanks to Rose now loosely included the rest of the Weasleys, as well as a few Hufflepuffs) from the bullies that seemed to run rampant here. Andrea had always felt the need to present a front that seemed strong and apathetic, that was unaffected by anything that happened to her, good or bad – it was how she survived, both at Hogwarts and at home. If people realized they could get under her skin, like James had, they could press that reaction to their advantage. It made her seem weak. And now James was threatening that, though whether he quite understood what he was doing was up for debate. He probably just assumed this was an appropriate extension of their normal banter, which she'd grown used to and occasionally even enjoyed.

"James, I'm warning you to stop," she gave him one last chance as his lips came uncomfortably close to brushing hers. She knew he wouldn't let them connect – that wasn't what he was aiming for. He would pull away at the last second so it seemed like she'd wanted to kiss him, make some comment about how he'd rather snog a hippogriff to make sure no one believed Skeeter's ridiculous claim that they were a couple, and be on his merry way. No, he wasn't threatening to force contact with her, which would have made her angry, truly angry…but she couldn't let this happen, either.

"Make me stop," he taunted.

So she did.

James reeled back as her fist connected with his face, staggering into Fred and Hugo, who struggled to support his weight. She hadn't put nearly as much force behind the blow as she could have – she hadn't wanted to hurt him, she realized with a start, but she needed to prove a point to him and to those watching. Word would spread throughout Hogwarts that Andrea Sterling was not to be mussed with.

When Fred and Hugo moved enough for her to spy James' face, she saw blood was gushing from his nose, which was crooked and swollen. Her stomach lurched. Surely he knew she hadn't meant to…

"Wa thad neces'ry, Derling? I dink you broke my dose."

"Did you really need to try to kiss me, Potter?"

"You new I wadn't really gonna-"

"James, c'mon mate, let's get you to the Hospital Wing," interrupted Fred, leading his cousin away from her with Hugo's help while shooting glares like daggers over his shoulder at her before she could find the right words to explain. And there had been nothing to say, really - she had a reputation to keep, after all, though the thought felt a tad bitter this time. But really, what had they or James thought would happen when he pretended to try to kiss her with the rest of the school watching? How had he thought she'd react? He'd had no right, and the fact he'd thought she would take it as a joke made no difference.

Those sitting around her had grown silent, scooting as far away as they could along the bench without sitting on their neighbors' laps, looking at her with a mixture of fear and respect. She sat stoically for the rest of lunch, pushing peas around her plate to pretend she was eating. Their Head of House, Professor Macdonald, came over to give her a week of detention scrubbing pots in the kitchen after dinner. She accepted the punishment without a word of complaint.

How are your holidays going, Sterling? Well, I hope?

Oh come on, I thought we were past this by now. You know I'll just keep being a bother until you reply.

Fine, have it your way then.

There was a Wizard of Nantucket

Who kept all his knuts in a bucket.

His daughter, called Nan,

Ran away with a man,

And as for the bucket, Nantucket.

But Pa followed the pair to Pawtucket,

The man and the Witch with the bucket;

And he said to the man,

He was welcome to Nan,

But as for the bucket, Pawtucket.

Then the pair followed the Wizard to Manhasset,

Where he still held the knuts as an asset;

But Nan and the man

Stole the galleons and ran,

And as for the bucket, Manhasset.

Andrea? Are you mad at me? What did I do this time?

You know, I can't apologize until I know what to apologize for.

Maybe I can. I'm sorry?

Is everything okay at your place? Are your parents being decent, at least? Not too awful?

Andy, please answer. You're worrying me.

Andy?

James cornered her in the hallway when they returned to the Potters home on New Years at nearly one a.m. "We need to talk," he nearly growled.

"Tonight is not the night for this, Potter. It's late, and you know I've had a shit day. So, if you don't mind…"

She tried to step away from him and toward the door of the guest room she'd be staying in with Rose, but he blocked her path, his hazel eyes boring into her brown ones. Andrea knew she could force him to allow her through, but fought against the urge. Tonight wasn't the night, and she knew he meant well. "That's it, then? You didn't answer me for weeks, even though I gave you a journal that your family wouldn't be able to read. I had to beg Rose to take me to your house and find you, only to see that your father had broken your wrist and was refusing to let you get it healed or leave the house. Andrea, why didn't you tell me?"

"And what could you have done? Written him a stern letter telling him to be nice to me?"

"You could have come here weeks ago! You never would have had to stay there if you'd told me or Rose you wanted to leave!"

"And why would I assume I was welcome here, James?"

"Andrea…Andy…You're always welcome. I know I can be an ass- you're no angel either-" she snorted as he said this, "but Rose at least has to have told you you're always welcome to stay with her. And the same goes for me," and here he smirked, "as long as you're willing to put up with a few pranks every once in a while."

"Staying for a week is one thing. Staying for the rest of my life, or at least until I come of age- it's entirely different and you know it."

"But why would you think we wouldn't do that for you?"

"Because I'm not used to people caring for me," she replied honestly. "Dad kept me too isolated to have real friends before Hogwarts, Mike pretty much abandoned me the first chance he got, and my parents… well, you saw their feelings for me aren't exactly warm and fuzzy."

James made to hold her hands at this, a prospect that made her heart thud oddly in her chest, but stopped when he saw the bandages still wound around her right wrist. "No one's healed this yet?" he asked, concerned.

She shrugged. "They've had more pressing things to worry about."

"This is pressing," he argued. His eyes sought hers as he reached out to touch her, silently requesting permission. She wasn't used to his asking – he always pulled her hair as she passed him in the halls, pranked her incessantly, and tried to trip her every chance he got. The sudden tenderness in his gaze took her by surprise, though it disappeared almost as soon as it appeared. She hadn't known James Sirius Potter could look at anyone like that.

Andrea nodded to consent to his touch, and James took her broken wrist gently into his right hand. With his left (she had never noticed he was left-handed), he pulled his wand from the pocket of his jeans. "What my parents don't know won't hurt them," he murmured absently before placing the tip of his wand on the bandages. "Episkey."

The pain faded immediately, in a way the alcohol she'd been downing since the injury had occurred hadn't been able to manage. The emotional pain, though…that didn't seem to be going anywhere. Still, magic could only get you so far, she supposed. "Thank you," she said, and they stood like that for a moment longer before going their separate ways.