“Harry! James ate my sandwich!” shouted a young brown haired boy as he ran into the living room.
“What’s wrong, Teddy?” asked his godfather, looking up from the paper with spirited, brilliantly green eyes.
“James ate my sandwich!” the boy repeated with more anger and childish resentment than before. His hair turned a dark shade of red as he spoke causing Harry to grin.
“James!” Harry called out as he stood up from his favourite armchair, stretching his arms high above his head.
A smaller, younger boy with bright red hair and equally bright brown eyes came sulking in the room, a sticky toffee-coloured substance smeared upon his somewhat freckly face. He walked slowly over to his father and looked up at him, batting his long eyelashes sweetly.
“James, did you eat Teddy’s sandwich?” Harry questioned.
“Uh-ah, Daddy, Teddy did,” James lied innocently. Teddy turned incredulously to his mate and stamped his foot.
“You did too! I saw him, Harry!” protested Teddy.
“Alright, Teddy, calm down,” said Harry softly, placing his hand on his godson’s shoulder before bending down so that he was eye level with his eldest son. “James, if you didn’t eat his sandwich, then why is there peanut butter all over your face?”
James’ eyes widened in shock as he realized that he had been caught; however, he grinned slyly then replied sheepishly, “I stole it from the jar?”
Harry was reminded of his wife’s twin brothers and chuckled. Then he asked, “How about I make you another sandwich, Teddy?”
The child’s eyes lit up and he smiled.
“Can I have one too, Daddy?” little James asked, showing his peanut butter grin again.
Harry nodded, and then the three of them walked into the kitchen and began looking for the supplies needed to make the sandwiches. He found the plates and the butter knife, even the bread, but no matter how hard Harry searched the kitchen he could not find a single jar of the sticky nut paste.
“What are you looking for, dear?” Ginny questioned, entering the kitchen with their infant son Albus.
“Peanut butter to make Teddy here another sandwich because James ate his,” Harry answered absently as he closed yet another cabinet.
“Silly goose, it’s in the pantry,” commented his wife cheerfully. She walked over to the cupboard and opened the door, allowing Harry to peer inside.
The small room was filled with all sorts of household items, but more importantly, there were two whole shelves full of unopened peanut butter jars.
“Ginny, why, on earth, do you have that much peanut butter? It would take me six years to eat all that!” Harry said brightly, laughing to himself as he stared at the stock of the nutty treat.
“Oh, Harry, don’t you know that peanut butter is the pâté of childhood?” she asked playfully, taking a jar from the shelf. “Come on boys, I’ll make you some more sandwiches.”