Characters: Remus Lupin and Sirius Black Location: 12 Grimmauld Date: 16th December
Sirius turned the book over in his hands. It was rare for him to give such consideration to a book, but he'd become quite attached to it since he'd apparently dug it out whilst drunk, and slept on it. He could remember earnestly tracing the words with a finger when he'd been young, sounding them out for Regulus. Then later embroidering the stories, until the hairy heart seemed tame by comparison. That was his favourite of the tables; it was the one he could remember pestering Bellatrix for, when she'd been agreeable to bed time stories. She'd read it, and Sirius would be rapt, until Regulus said it was stupid but really had probably just been scared. He hadn't been braver than Regulus, not really, he'd just known his own soothing comments before Regulus had.
"It's all right," he remembered whispering, "you can't pull out your own heart, anyway."
It was a common enough book; every young wizard or witch knew these stories. Well, most of them anyway. James' memory of them didn't quite tally with those in the book, so it seemed that there were several versions, not to mention the personalised versions dreamed up by his imaginative cousin.
"Remus," he said, looking across at his quiet companion "when did you hear these stories?" He held up The Tales of Beedle the Bard, though Remus was unlikely to have missed Sirius unusual dedication to pursuing a book, even if it was a children's book.