Harry went to have a word with the hapless dog. A few pats on the head, a scritch behind the ears, and Starless seemed to settle down happily on the rug in front of the sink. He went back to the living room and clapped his hands together. "Right! Lights. Would my lady like fairy lights?"
It was nothing for Harry to conjure a score of twinkling lights to flit about the branches, ones that would last well past twelfth night.