Just a little two-shot idea based on my favorite series and the songs my parents sang to me when I was little.

Disclaimer: I don't own 'Harry Potter'. I don't own 'Sweet Baby James' by James Taylor. I don't own 'Little Miss Magic' by Jimmy Buffet. The only thing I own is my memories and my computer.

000

Sweet Baby James

000

Ginny Potter frowned as she read through the Daily Prophet. Though Voldemort had been defeated several years ago, bad things happened in the world. Especially the Wizarding World.

"Mummy!"

Ginny lowered the paper as the insistent little voice of her first born called her. Little James, with his messy red hair and big hazel eyes, looked up at his mother, clearly unable to sleep.

"What's wrong, James?" she asked, laying the Prophet aside and pulling the three year old into her lap. His lower lip stuck out in a pout as he regarded her with those large eyes.

"I can't fall 'sleep." He said very matter-of-factly.

Ginny gave her son a smile, knowing what he wanted. "And you expect me to sing you a lullaby, I suppose?"

His frown disappeared as he gave her a hopeful smile. Ginny smiled back and pulled him closer, feeling him curl up warmly on her lap, head resting on her chest just like eighteen month old Albus did when he napped in her arms.

Ginny closed her eyes and drew a deep breath before starting to sing softly.

"There is a young cowboy,

Who lives on the range.

His horse and his cattle,

Are his only companions.

He works in the saddle,

And he sleeps in the canyons.

Waiting for summer,

His pastures to change."

James snuggled closer as his favorite part drew near, Ginny humming the music in between verses.

"And as the moon rises,

He sits by his fire.

Thinkin' about women,

And glasses of beer.

And closing his eyes as the dowggies retire.

He sings out a song which is soft,

But is clear.

As if maybe someone could hear."

Ginny felt James' lips turn up in a smile as the chorus came, which was, in his opinion, the best part.

"Goodnight, you moonlight ladies.

Rock-a-bye sweet baby James.

Deep greens and blues,

Are the colors I choose.

Won't you let me go down in my dreams?

And rock-a-bye sweet baby James."

James let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes as Ginny continued to the next verse.

"Now the first of December,

Was covered with snow.

So was the turnpike,

From Stockbridge to Boston.

Though the virtues seemed dream-like,

On account of that frostin'.

With ten miles behind me,

And ten thousand more to go.

There's a song that they sing,

When they take to the highway.

A song that they sing,

When they take to the sea.

A song that they sing,

Of their home in the sky.

Maybe you can believe it,

If it helps you to sleep.

But singing works just fine for me."

Ginny cast a glance down at James as she headed into the chorus again. He seemed to be almost asleep.

"So goodnight, you moonlight ladies.

Rock-a-bye sweet baby James.

Deep greens and blues,

Are the colors I choose.

Won't you let me go down in my dreams?

And rock-a-bye sweet baby James."

Ginny slowly got up and carried James carefully back to his room. She tucked him in gently and briefly pressed her lips against his forehead before turning to leave. She paused at the door again and looked back at his peaceful form, sleeping comfortably, and smiled. If there was any such thing as luck, he would never have to endure the horrors she had as a child. With any luck, he and Albus would grow up safe and happy, along with the other little one Ginny was almost positive she was carrying now. She hadn't told Harry yet, because there really wasn't much proof, but she just had a feeling.

Besides, mothers are usually right about these things.