BEDTIME STORY
PART THREE: EASTER TALES

"Come on, meet me in the morning, meet me in the middle of the night
The morning light is comin', don't it make you wanna go and feel alright" (Zeppelin)

It was Easter. Natasha had been dressed in a frilly pink dress (despite Sirius' protests) and the three of them were on their way to see 'Gammy and Ganpa'.

Natasha flashed her brightest smile when they arrived, happily allowing herself to be mauled. "Don't you just look so pretty?" Mrs. Potter asked, scooping her granddaughter into her arms. She looked at her sons. "Come in here, you two. Let me look at you."

"Hello, Mum." they both said in unision.

She shook her finger at them. "You boys can help me in the kitchen. "Natasha, go say hello to your grandfather. He's listening to the radio. Says he be darned if he misses Quidditch for appetizers."

"Maybe I should go say hello, too." James said.

"Go." Sirius pushed his husband. "And mind you watch your language in front of your daughter when England loses again."


"What sort of books have you been reading lately, Natasha?" Mrs. Potter asked. "You know, I picked one up for you just last week."

Natasha smiled. "I haven't read a lot lately. Just schoolbooks." She smiled and continued to play with her peas and mashed potatoes.

"Oh, surely your father is reading you books before you go to bed. James?" James winced as his mother shot him the inquisitive eye, but Natasha spoke up, oblivious.

"No, Daddy makes me up stories. And Padfoot and Prongs." she said.

Mrs. Potter gave a sly smile. "And who are Padfoot and Prongs, child?"

Sirius took a drink of water while James started coughing.

"They're two boys who went to school at Hogwarts. They were naughty all the time and they fell in love." Natasha said, happily. "I did a play about them last week."

"You know," Mrs. Potter tipped a wink at Natasha's parents, "I think I heard a story about Padfoot and Prongs once."

"Mum, no." James said, his eyes wide in horror.

"I want to hear." Natasha was all smiles.

"No, you don't." James said. "Mum, Natasha is only seven years old and any story you may have to share is probably not age appropriate."

"I raised you, James." she said laughing. "I understand the meaning of 'age appropriate'. Your father on the other hand . . ."

"I want to hear about Padfoot and Prongs." Natasha insisted.

"All right. Padfoot and Prongs used to stay at Prongs' mother's house during the holidays. One year during the winter holiday Padfoot got very sick. He was in bed most of the time and Prongs' mother didn't want him in there too much for fear he would catch it. So Prongs spent most of his time outside playing in the snow alone, if playing were the word for it.

"On Christmas Eve Padfoot started to feel a bit better. He came downstairs and was sitting on the couch when Prongs burst in. 'You're better?' he asked. 'Getting there.' was the response. 'I love you.' Prongs said. Padfoot smiled. 'I love you, too. So very much.' That was when Prongs got his idea.

"He ran back outside, tugging on his boots as he went, not even bothering to put his coat back on. His mother was yelling after him, but he pretended not to hear her. The plain of snow in front of the living room window hadn't been touched. He ran through the snow, every which way. It took a moment for his mother to realize what was going on. 'Padfoot,' she said, 'ook out the window.'

"The words outside the Prongs had stamped into the snow with his feet read 'Padfoot, will you marry me?' The moment Prongs was inside, Padfoot threw his arms around him and kissed him silly. "Yes, of course I'll marry you.' he said."

Mrs. Potter smiled. "The next day they were both sick again, but much happier than they had been before. Now that they were both sick they were together. And engaged."

Sirius and James were smiling at each other on either side of Natasha. James leaned over his daughter to kiss his husband's cheek. "I'm going to wash my hands." he said. "I'll be back in a moment to help you with the dishes, Mum."

Sirius jumped up. "I need to wash mine, too."

"Gamma?" Natasha asked after they left the room. "Why do they have to wash their hands if they're just going to wash dishes?"

Mrs. Potter just smiled.

Won't you tell me, tell me, tell me bedtime stories
Oh let me close my eyes and drift away
Tell me, tell me, tell me bedtime stories
Tell me in a very special way" (Justin Hayward)