A/N: I think I might've gotten over my writer's block at least for a little while. I'll try to update as often as I can.

It was a cold December day. There was only a week left till Christmas and the entire school was preparing. Terry, Michael and Anthony were sitting on a bench near the lake, watching some younger students try to skate on the frozen surface.

"Hey, Ter?" Michael said, blowing hot air into his hands. "How about you tell us another story while we're here?"

Terry took a bite of the apple he had with him and hesitated.

"Now?" he finally asked. "To just the two of you?"

"Yeah, why not?" asked Anthony, adjusting his glasses and sticking his hands into his pockets. "It might make us feel warmer."

Terry contemplated this for a second before replying, "Oh, all right. I'll tell you the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears."

"Goldilocks?" asked Michael incredulously. "Another odd name? Jesus, you'd think Muggles couldn't pronounce normal names."

"Let me guess, she wasn't blonde?" asked Anthony.

"What? Of course she was blonde," said Terry. "Why else would they name her Goldilocks?"

"I don't know, these stories are really strange!" Anthony said defensively. "She might as well have been a redhead or something."

"Well, she wasn't. She was a young, blonde girl who lived near the forest," said Terry. "One day, she decided to have a walk in the forest."

"Uh-oh," said Michael. "These things usually end badly."

"You're quite right, Mike," said Terry with a smile. "Goldilocks came upon a cottage in the woods. She knocked on the door and when no one answered, she walked in."

"Whoa, breaking and entering? This girl's a criminal!" said Anthony incredulously.

"Whoever lives there should go back and call the Law Enforcement squad, or the, um... Policemen, yeah!" said Michael.

"I know, that was a rather rude thing to do, wasn't it?" asked Terry. "Anyway, when she entered, she noticed a table and three bowls of porridge on it. You see, the house belonged to a family of bears, Mama Bear, Papa Bear and Baby Bear."

Anthony and Michael shared a look.

"Um, no offense, Terry, but bears don't talk," said Anthony.

"Nor do they eat porridge, or live in cottages," added Michael.

"I know, I know, but that's just how the story goes," replied Terry. "Pretend they were just really hairy humans or something. So, Goldilocks first sat on Papa Bear's chair, but she exclaimed, 'This chair is too hard!"

"First, she breaks into their home and now the furniture isn't accommodating?" muttered Anthony.

"Then she sat in Mama Bear's chair and said, 'Oh no, this chair is too soft!"

"How on earth can a chair be 'too soft'?" asked Michael. "Did she sink into it, was it made out of foam?"

"Maybe she was trying to keep her back straight," said Anthony. "Maybe it missed a couple of springs."

"Whatever it was," Terry said, "it was definitely too soft. Finally, she sat in Baby Bear's chair and shouted, 'Well, this chair is just right!' she sat on the chair for a little while longer, but then it broke."

"Oh, lovely!" said Michael. "Not only did she break into their house, but she also broke the poor little bear's chair? She's a daft one, she is."

"Yes, she does seem a bit stupid, doesn't she?" Terry asked, scratching his chin. "Well, back to the story. She walked over to Papa Bear's porridge, tried it, but it was too hot for her."

"That's odd," said Anthony. "You'd think the porridge would've cooled off by then."

"Well, when she tried Mama Bear's porridge, it was too cold," Terry replied.

Michael and Anthony stared in disbelief.

"What? But how is that possible?" Anthony asked frantically. "The porridge was poured from the same pot, I presume. How is it that Mama Bear's porridge cooled off, while Papa Bear's porridge stayed hot?"

"Well, maybe Goldilocks's tongue was burned when she first tried the porridge, so when she tried the next one, it seemed colder," said Michael.

"Yes, but the second porridge would merely be mildly warm, not really cold! It is possible that there was a window near Mama's bowl, but how big of a table would that be? A window cooling one porridge off, while the other one stayed the same?"

"Tony, as always, I think you're overanalysing things," said Terry. "It's one of your best qualities, really, but can we get back to the story right now?"

Anthony quieted down sheepishly.

"Good," said Terry, clapping his hands once. "Moving on. When Goldilocks tried Baby Bear's porridge, it was just right. After finishing it all, she decided she needed a nap, so she went upstairs to find a bed."

"Okay, this is just getting ridiculous!" said Michael. "She also ate their food, and now she wants to sleep there? That's not a hotel, you know!"

"At least Snow White had the decency of cleaning up before going to bed," added Anthony with a grin.

"Yes, I agree," said Terry. "That was not only rude, but really, really stupid. You'd think her parents would teach her not to sleep in strange cottages. Anyway, she tried out the beds: Papa's was to uncomfortable, Mama's was too comfortable and Baby's was good."

"Again with the 'too comfortable'!" said Michael. "Was Mama Bear's a cardboard cut-out? Why was she so light that she wouldn't sink, but that a little girl would?"

"I don't know, maybe the bed really was made of foam," Terry said, chuckling softly. "So, she lay down and fell asleep. A few hours later, the bears returned. 'Someone sat in my chair!' said Papa Bear. 'Someone sat in my chair!' said Mama Bear. 'Someone sat in my chair,' cried Baby Bear, 'and they broke it!'" They did the same thing with the porridge, finally going up to the bedroom to find Goldilocks there."

"Did they eat her?" asked Michael.

"Well, it depends on the version really. In some versions, she becomes their friend."

"Yeah, after destroying their house," mumbled Anthony.

"Well, that's the end of the story," said Terry. "I guess it was a short one."

"It was great, Terry," said Michael, patting his best friend on his shoulder. "Come on, let's get to the castle."

With that, the three friends got up and walked up to the castle, their troubles forgotten for the time being.