Ever since she was a little girl, Nymphadora ("Call me Dora. Please.") had always loved the book of Muggle fairy tales her father had given to her for her fifth birthday. She loved all the fairy tales inside (except maybe 'Little Red Riding Hood', because she sympathized with the wolf. All he wanted was a meal, and Little Miss Goody-Two-Red-Shoes seemed the perfect option), but the one she adored the most was 'Beauty and the Beast'. She would always sit up in bed with a flashlight way past bedtime, reading the book again and again. Her favorite line was the one written in bold italics at the end of the story, possibly the supposed moral of the tale: 'It's not what you look like that's important, but what you are inside that counts.'
When she was seven, her mother's cousin had brought his friends to her house for Christmas. She loved toying around with her relative's long hair while he refused her mother's offer to help him cut it, and she was particularly interested in the bump on the red-haired woman's stomach. The woman had told her it was going to be a baby, while the bespectacled man with messy hair stood next to her beaming happily. She still didn't understand how a stomach could hold a living and growing baby without bursting, but she accepted the fact without further question.
She liked all of her mother's cousin's friends, but there was one she liked the most. When she first met him, he had been the last to come through the door, having been pushed out of the way by his friends. She stepped forward wanting to help the stranger hang his cloak on the coat-hanger, and looked up to see a pair of golden brown eyes looking down on her. She stood still as if entranced, enthralled by the things she saw inside the pair of golden brown eyes, things that she only read about in fairy tales. It wasn't until he bent down to her level and smiled at her that she snapped out of her trance and blushed as she offered to show him into the parlor.
Later that day, she was to go to a friend's Christmas party. Her parents had already gone Christmas shopping, and her mother's cousin was supposed to take her to her friend's house. However, he and his bespectacled friend had been badly injured in a wild snowball fight they were having earlier, and he was in no state to take her. While the red-haired woman and the slightly plump man tended to the two casualties, the man with the golden brown eyes offered to take her instead. He held her hand tightly as they made their way down the street, and she had a warm feeling in her heart despite the cold outside.
When they got to her friend's house her friend's mother answered the door. He was invited to step in for a moment, and she rushed to find her friends and let them meet the man. But for some reason they didn't dare go near him when they saw him, and when she asked why later in private one of them leaned over and whispered in her ear, "He has a scar on his face." Horrified, she glanced towards where he stood with the other adults and noticed the faint line that ran down the side of his cheek. She turned back and said, "Oh, that's nothing. I still like him."
That night, she came down to the parlor to get her book of fairy tales that she had left in front of the fireplace and instead saw him sitting in front of the fire reading it. She walked over hesitantly and peered over his shoulder. He was reading 'Beauty and the Beast', with the page of an illustration of Belle and the Beast dancing together in the ballroom open in front of him. She sat down next to him. "Do you like it?"
He looked up, a bit startled. "Oh, it's you. Sorry, I didn't see you come in." He closed the book and handed it to her. "Here, I think this is yours."
She held the book in her hands for a second and looked up at him. Then she handed him back the book. "It's okay. You can read it."
"I can't. It's yours."
"Then read it to me."
He smiled and opened the book again. "Alright."
The way he read the story was different than the way her parents read it to her at bedtime, or the way she read it to herself huddled under the sheets in the middle of the night. While he was reading it, she felt as if she was actually watching the events of the story unfold in front of her. It was very lovely sitting there and leaning beside him in front of the fireplace, imagining the flames were the light of chandeliers that shone down on the ballroom where the girl and the animal danced together. The soft music in her head slowly carried her away to her dreams, and she fell asleep with her head resting on his shoulder.
…
Many years later she sat in front of the same fireplace, reading the same book while sitting in a cozy armchair. One hand held the book upright, while the other rested on top of her bulging belly. She remembered how she once marveled at how a stomach could hold a baby without bursting many Christmases ago. Well, now she had learned that it was very much possible, and seeing that she was experiencing it now there was no room left for doubt. She turned the page and read the last line in bold italics with a smile: 'It's not what you look like that's important, but what you are inside that counts.'
She could hear footsteps coming into the parlor, and looked up to see him enter the room. He had changed quite a bit from the young man who once read her a story in front of the fireplace, but those golden brown eyes of his were still very much the same. There was a slight twinge of sadness in them, but only those dearest to him could see it, and she was glad she could not only see it but help it heal too. She smiled as he stepped across the room and bent down over her shoulder to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Reading 'Beauty and the Beast' again?"
"Yup. Remember that time you read it to me in front of the fireplace?"
"How could I forget? You fell asleep on my shoulder and I had to carry you up to your room. And then your mother bumped into me in the hallway carrying her daughter's unconscious body bridal-style while looking for your room. It was awkward, to say the least. Not to mention the teasing I had to endure from Sirius and James afterwards."
She laughed. "So you mean you now regret it?"
He pretended to think thoughtfully. "Hmm, maybe not so much."
Laughing again, she set the book on the handle of the armchair. Then her expression grew solemn and she sighed. "So much has changed since that day. Your friends are gone, my dad is gone, and we've both grown up. Time flies too fast sometimes."
He reached for her hands and took them in his, rubbing them softly. "But we're still here. Both of us. And now there's one more." He laid a hand on her stomach and smiled at her.
She smiled back. "You're right." A yawn escaped her lips. "Well, I'm going to bed now. You can help me upstairs."
"Sometimes I wonder if I married a wife or signed up for slavery." Despite that, he was smiling as he helped her to her feet. After planting another kiss on her cheek, the two of them slowly made their way upstairs, leaving the book open on the handle of the armchair. The flames of the fireplace illuminated the open pages and the light fell on the last line. 'It's not what you look like that's important, but what you are inside that counts.'
Wow, I haven't been writing Harry Potter fanfiction for some time now, haven't I? Did anyone miss me? *laughs* Anyway, I wrote this because I thought I owed this to Remus for pairing him with Sirius in so many of my oneshots. On the other hand, it's quite fun imagining Sirius' tortured expression when he reads my stories (if ever), so my conscience is clear on his part. Reviews are much appreciated!