Zhenya muttered, “Grandpapi, you’re right - Babushka DOES need this potion tonight.”
He chuckled lightly as he poured some of the sleeping draught potion they made into a flask of hot chocolate, and gave it to her. It tasted repulsive to him, but his wife loved it for some strange reason.

She snatched it from his hand and gulped it down. “Get to bed Zhenya,” she snapped at her granddaughter. Zhenya’s mouth turned down and she ran upstairs.

She heard footsteps, and knew it was her Grandpapi, who came into her room and said “Sorry Burtie - she is very snappish lately.”