Date: 19th December Characters: Sirius Black and Nymphadora Tonks Place: 12 Grimmauld Place
Muggle fairy lights - charmed, but flickering in traditional fashion - were strung along the window frames. Out of window sight, cherubic angels flew around the edges of the ceiling. At the back of the room a Christmas tree stood, taller than any occupant of number twelve and if you looked at just the right angle, it stood taller than the ceiling itself. Chocolate bells hung from the tree, tingling softly.
Amidst it all Sirius lay on the sofa, a thick blanket tossed across his legs. A nice pile of presents was building beneath the tree, and Sirius was receiving almost hourly reminders from Remus not to feel, shake or otherwise interfere with them. A low hum of noise was coming from the television, but Sirius was neither watching nor listening.
He had pulled out every book in the library of number twelve and any book that mentioned Necormancy had mentioned the same thing; it is not possible, no magic can raise the dead. They will always be pale, fleeting shadows of themselves. Unhappy. Not really alive at all. Sirius did not think that this was the same; they had free will, emotion, solid form. But no form of magic, good or bad, accounted for this.
Sirius squinted so that the star on top of the tree really seemed to be twinkling, the garish yellow smearing across his vision.