Holy updates Batman! Two THR universe chapters in one week?! Can you believe it? Neither can I!

And for the first time in over a year, I'm excited to update this particular fic again - I hope you enjoy it too!

Fifth Year

Andrea skidded on the stone floor as she rounded the last corner a bit too quickly in her rush to get to the Hospital Wing. Though she'd fully intended to barge her way through the big wooden doors and demand she see her best friend immediately, she was stopped short by the sight of a decently-sized crowd hanging about at the end of the hall; most of those present, she noted as she ran toward them, were redheads of varying hues. "How is she?" she asked, out of breath but not caring, as she stopped in front of the face that was most familiar to her.

"We're not sure," answered James honestly. He stood with one arm around Lily, who was a head shorter than him and at least three stone lighter. The younger girl hid her face in the front of her brother's robes as he rubbed her back soothingly. Albus stood on his other side, pacing nervously in a small circle. "Dad went in a few minutes ago. I expect he's interviewing Scorpius now."

"Malfoy's okay, then?"

"He was bleeding, but it didn't look too serious. He helped Fred and Louis carry her back to the castle." James gestured toward a trio of strawberry blonde siblings, and she realized quickly that Victoire and Dominique must have come to show their support. Now that he'd called her attention to it, Andy saw many other people she didn't recognize, whom she could only assume were Weasley relatives she'd not yet had a chance to meet.

"Did he say what happened to them?" she asked.

Just as Albus stopped and opened his mouth to answer, the hospital doors opened, and Hermione, Ron, and Hugo exited. "She's awake," the first announced to the crowd at large. "She's talking, and she's a little bruised up, but she's alright."

There was a general cry of relief at this as the family rejoiced, happy that one of their own was safe. Andy began to feel out of place, surrounded as she was by Potters and Weasleys, and started to back away down the hall quietly as the others exchanged hugs and tears of relief. Her question had been answered: Rose was okay. The rest could wait. She had no right to request to see her, and no real reason to celebrate with them now, like she belonged there. This wasn't a place that was meant for her.

An arm slid around her waist before she could get too far, making her jump. She spun out of the stranger's grip and turned to face her opponent-

"Relax, Sterling. It's just me," said James.

"Potter, one of these days, you're going to lose an arm," she huffed, "or at the very least a hand, and it will be entirely your own bloody fault."

James ignored the threat. "Where do you think you're going, anyway?"

"Back to the common room."

He looked puzzled at this. "But you just got here."

"And now I know Rose is alright. So I should go," she started to walk away again, only to have him grab her wrist. She rolled her eyes, but allowed him to pull her back toward him.

"No, you should stay. I'm sure we'll stay here for a while longer, or go sit outside near the Black Lake before it gets dark, or convince the Headmaster to let us all get dinner early… I don't think any of us want to be alone just now."

"But you're a part of 'us'…and I'm just me."

James shook his head. "Is that what this is about? Andrea, you're one of us now. You live with Rose, and in two months or so you're going to have to suffer through a Christmas at the Burrow just like the rest of us." The smile on his face made it clear the word suffer was meant to be taken lightly. "And Nana will make you a Weasley sweater with a giant A on it, just like she used to make sweaters for Dad, even ages before he and Mum got married and he was legally part of the family, and then you'll come to our place for New Years' again…"

He trailed off, looking at her expectantly. She stared back, unsure. After a few seconds with no reply, his expression faltered. "I mean… isn't that what you want? To be a part of the 'us'?"

Still, she didn't respond. What was she supposed to say? Andrea had finally accepted her role as an adopted child in Rose's home and immediate family, though at times she still felt incredibly awkward, like staying with them was some sort of summer camp or extended vacation away from her horrible home with her horrible parents. But this…she hadn't had much chance to think of herself in the context of Rose's larger pool of relatives. How was she supposed to behave around them? Were they her family members too, now? Or were they simply the extended relations of her best friend, whom she now happened to live with? To be welcomed into a large, loving family like Rose's…it was all she'd ever wanted, really…which made James' statement far too good to be true. There had to be some kind of catch; she wasn't yet ready to accept things like this at face value, in case it all turned out to be some sort of trick – past experience wouldn't let her. Gently, she pulled away from the boy once more, and this time he released his grip and let her go. "Message me if you hear anything else," she asked softly, and he nodded.

"I'll see you later, then."

But she was already out of earshot.

Later that evening, after much deliberation, and exuding more confidence than she felt, Andy strode over to the section of the Gryffindor table that was occupied by more than fifteen Weasleys and Potters. Even those who did not belong to the House of gold and scarlet were crowded there in a large cluster, like Roxanne (a Slytherin), Albus (a Ravenclaw), and Lucy (a Hufflepuff). She plopped herself onto the bench at the group's fringes, in the space James had left for her beside him. "You lot were taking up so much bloody room, this is the only place left to sit," she grumbled.

He smiled a bit, but for once knew well enough not to contradict her.

…Of course, Rose isn't the only Weasley (but really, why are there so many of them? Are their large numbers some form of familial overcompensation?) to be embroiled in a sordid love scandal. James Potter-Weasley and Muggleborn Andrea Sterling are still going strong – indeed, things may be moving more than a tad bit too fast for propriety, as it seems they're already living together. Yes, dear little Andrea has abandoned the house of her Muggle ancestors to live with Rose Weasley and her relatives, and stays with the Potters on a nearly nightly basis…

"Are you going to punch me again this time, Sterling?"

Andrea looked up from her copy of the Daily Prophet to see James standing in front of her. He looked strange, backlit by the common room's fire, which cast sharp lines of shadow that made the emotions on his face unreadable.

"Only if you give me a reason to, Potter."

"Can I hold you to that?" he asked.

She quirked an eyebrow. "What exactly did you have in mind that would make me want to hit you?"

"Well…I was going to make a suggestion. On what we should do about all this."

"This?"

He gestured to the newspaper she held. "Rita Skeeter."

"Well, I was thinking of asking you how to cast that enhanced Bat Bogey spell you came up with in my second year, but I'm open to other ideas."

He didn't laugh, as she'd expected him to. He sounded nervous as he spoke next, "That's not exactly what I had in mind."

"Well then, spit it out Potter."

"If everyone already thinks we're dating…"

Oh no. No. He couldn't possibly be saying-

"…then, I mean, maybe we should give it a go? It couldn't hurt…"

"Yes, it could," Andy responded through gritted teeth. She suppressed the strange, fluttering feeling that was beginning to spread through her stomach, as if a horde of pixies had been let loose inside it. That wasn't what her relationship with James was supposed to be like. They weren't even friends. She moderately cared for his well-being, and he moderately cared for hers. He was far too much of a pain in her arse to be anything more than that. Andrea needed someone she could lean on, who she could trust wouldn't use their closeness to hurt her or take advantage. And that someone wasn't James. He was impulsive, narcissistic, unreliable at best, and though she wasn't quite sure how it had happened, he'd learned over the years how to get under her skin like no one else could. He was the thorn in her side, and would never be anything more.

"It could hurt very much," she continued, "and I have to warn you, your face might never recover." She pointedly eyed his nose, which still looked the tiniest bit crooked.

"Point taken," he replied, and left the common room without another word to her or anyone else.

The next morning, James Potter awoke to find that his normally black hair had been turned a violent shade of turquoise that would have done Teddy Lupin proud. He sighed, not sure why he had expected anything less. This was the natural order of things, wasn't it, them pranking each other, occasionally offering support but usually just pushing each other's nerves to the breaking point? Really, what had he been thinking?

Andy awoke on Christmas morning to find a small pile of presents sitting at the foot of her bed at Rose's house. Her heart soared for a moment, reveling in the happiness that she felt, for once not having to worry that her parents would fight their way through their customary family dinner, or that her Dad would go after one of them if he drank too much eggnog. For the first time in her life, Christmas was something to be enjoyed, not dreaded.

The feeling didn't last long as she slid out from under the covers and got a closer look at the gifts that had appeared overnight. On top of the heap lay a small off-white envelope, addressed "To My Daughter" in a handwriting she'd hoped to never see again. She wasn't sure how he'd gotten ahold of a magic owl, but clearly he had – he wouldn't have been able to write to her, otherwise. The sense of security she felt at staying in a place she'd thought he'd never be able to find was instantly stripped away. And really, why had she ever thought she'd be free of him, of them? Hadn't it always been this way? And wouldn't it always? It was foolish of her, really, to think she could outrun her past.

She started drinking at breakfast, sneaking a bit of the spiked punch Rose's parents had left sitting on the kitchen counter, with no one the wiser. It didn't take the feelings away, of course, but it dulled them, made them more manageable. Andrea was still looking forward to the celebrations that would take place at the Burrow later, and to meeting the rest of her friend's extremely large family, though she expected she'd have to keep drinking for the rest of the evening to keep her spirits up. Still, she'd been through worse.

One week later, she received a message from James that she didn't quite know how to answer:

Do you mind telling me why you and my cousin are on the outs?

Andrea had decided to stay the rest of the holidays with a Muggle friend from primary school. Though the two had never been very close (largely her own doing, she realized now), it was certainly better than staying at Rose's home after the falling out they'd had at Christmas. She wasn't sure how it had happened, really, but suddenly her best friend had become the person she most wanted to avoid. It certainly wasn't something she wanted to try to explain to James. Especially not since a small portion of the argument had been about him.

"You would be just as upset if I started mispronouncing your name like James does to get on your nerves...You keep giving me all this great advice, Ahn-DREY-uh, but you don't seem to be following any of it yourself. Does James know how YOU feel?" (Thorns Have Roses, Chapter 29).

Rose's words had left her with much to think about. James was a pratt, but… he had improved so much in the past year, and even in the past month. She'd noticed a slight shift in his attitude toward her since last January, but she'd assumed that it was born out of pity more than anything else. He'd finally seen firsthand how horrid her family could be, she rationalized, and he hadn't wanted to make her feel unwelcome as she moved in with Rose and her family. He had been kinder to her than before when he came to visit at The Nest that summer and winter, and she had reciprocated the change in behavior. Their banter had become less barbed, and their pranks more entertaining than antagonistic. She could tell that he was pulling his punches, reserving the more harmful Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products for people like Delilah Macnair whom he truly disliked.

Rose had clearly noticed the difference in their relationship as well... and attributed it to something entirely different. Was she right? Andy wasn't sure, and the redhead's words echoed through her head.

"Don't you dare say anything to him, Rose," Andrea had responded, but she was curious what Rose would have said if she'd been given permission. What did she see Andy's relationship with James evolving into? Because she wasn't sure herself. She had immediately shot down his suggestion last month that they try dating, really dating, in the wake of Rita Skeeter's latest article. But she couldn't forget the fluttering feeling she'd felt inside her stomach when he asked, the nervous look in his warm brown eyes that led her to believe his question was more than just a practical joke. It had been strange, and surprising and… almost pleasant. Almost.

James was impulsive, narcissistic, unreliable at best, and though she wasn't quite sure how it had happened, he'd learned over the years how to get under her skin like no one else could. And yet...

"Does James know how YOU feel?"

Andrea wasn't sure how she felt anymore.

After a few more messages needling her for information, which Andrea pointedly ignored, James let the subject die, instead prattling on about how his brother had become extremely tiresome, and how he thought Dominique's new girlfriend was incredibly pretty.

Andrea felt the journal grow warm in her pocket. For a few moments she tried to ignore it, instead keeping her gaze focused on the parchment in front of her, but finally the leather bindings grew so unbearably hot that she could no longer tolerate it. Fishing the book out of her pocket, she was careful to use the hem of her robes as a makeshift potholder. The moment she opened the cover, the thick parchment pages returned to room temperature. She filed away this loophole for the future, as she could certainly imagine the use of being able to ignore James' messages without burning a hole in her pocket.

A line of text was written there in familiar, messy cursive.

There was a young lady of Flagon
who smiled as she rode on a dragon;
They returned from the ride
with the lady inside,
and the smile on the face of the dragon.

Andrea rolled her eyes before responding.

"Must you really write to me when we're sitting in the same room?", she replied.

You're far away, and I'm lazy.

At this, she looked up from the book in her lap and turned her head in James' direction. Their eyes met across the Gryffindor common room, and he dropped a flirtatious wink once he saw that he had her attention.

"Does James know how YOU feel?"

She had not yet reconciled with Rose - she was not sure how to start that conversation, nor what she would say once it had begun. Deep down Andrea knew that though neither of them had approached the situation well, she had largely been responsible for instigating the argument. For as long as she could remember she'd always pushed people away. She had a knack for it, really - a deep-seated urge she attributed to her upbringing. If you didn't let people close to you, they couldn't hurt you. She hadn't chosen the family she'd been born into, but she could minimize the number of others who had the same emotional power over her that her parents did.

As a result, Andy had succeeded in putting up a wall between herself and her closest friend, one who had taken her into her own home in an attempt to protect her from her family. Even if they reconciled, she wasn't sure whether it would ever completely disappear. But if there was one silver lining in any of this, it was that she'd been forced to realize just how isolated she'd made herself.

And she was so, so tired of shutting everyone out.

Well are you going to respond to me, or are you just going to keep staring at me all day?

Andrea fought to keep her cheeks from turning red when she realized that she'd zoned out thinking about her relationship with James while staring at the boy himself.

"Do you have anything particularly important to say? I'm trying to study."

What are you studying?

"Charms."

Sounds like I'm saving you from a headache, then.

"Talking with you gives me a headache. And this book won't study itself…"

Well aren't you a good little Ravenclaw?

"Can it, Potter."

There was a moment's pause before a new message began to appear, as if an invisible hand was hesitantly penning it onto the page.

Do you want help?

Again, that fluttering in the pit of her stomach. This time, though, she didn't want to ignore it. She was tired of ignoring it.

"James Sirius Potter, offering to help me study for the O.W.L.s? Who did you lose a bet to?"

No one.

"I'd put my galleons on Fred, though Hugo's just as likely. Lily is my third guess."

I didn't lose a bet. I've never lost a bet, for that matter, but it's besides the point.

"Then why are you offering to help me?"

Because I'm actually rather good at Charms, in case you haven't noticed from the book you're writing in right now.

"I didn't say you weren't capable of helping me with Charms. I asked why you want to help me with Charms."

Don't get all sappy on me, Sterling. I'm proposing an equal trade, not a favor. I have absolutely no idea how to fill out this bloody star chart Professor Shafiq assigned."

"Then why did you decide to take N.E.W.T. level Astronomy?"

Because I'm daft.

"Well, at least you admit it…"

Andrea paused for a moment, taking a deep breath and reminding herself of Rose's words before writing the next sentence.

"Fine, come over here and I'll see if I can help you."

Earlier laziness apparently forgotten, James quickly crossed the common room after bidding Fred a hasty goodbye. Andy repositioned the various books and scraps of parchment surrounding her so that he could sit comfortably on the other end of the plush scarlet couch.

The dark-haired boy grinned. "Alright then. Welcome to Potter tutoring services, how may I help you?"