Whenever Christmas came around, shops and malls played Christmas songs nonstop to create a festive atmosphere and remind everyone that the holiday was approaching.
Harry turned over, trying to fall asleep again, but Sirius's singing downstairs kept him awake.
He threw back the covers, walked barefoot across the floor of 12 Grimmauld Place, then opened the door and followed the singing downstairs.
As he passed the second floor, he paused and instinctively looked toward the sitting room.
At Christmas in 1995, he had spent some time alone in the sitting room. Back then, everyone had been busy decorating the dining room. There had been no Christmas tree in the sitting room, making it seem very bleak. That day, Sirius had been singing Christmas carols too.
Harry did not see his younger self in the pitch-black sitting room, which seemed to suggest that this was not someone's memory in a Pensieve.
He continued down the stairs until he reached the kitchen in the basement. The historic Order of the Phoenix table had been brought out again, though Ginny had cut off more than half of it and put it away because she found it too much of a nuisance.
"All right, Daddy's back!" Mrs. Weasley shouted. She immediately kissed Arthur. His face was terribly pale, making the bruising on it stand out even more—the marks Nagini had left when she bit him.
"How do you feel?" Sirius's voice sounded behind Harry. "I heard you dreamed about Nagini attacking Arthur."
Harry turned around. Sirius Black was standing behind him, alive—the truly alive kind. Apart from being a little pale, he was still exceptionally handsome.
"Why?" Harry said incoherently.
"Why what?" Sirius asked.
"How are you here?"
"This is my parents' house. Where else would I be?" Sirius looked around 12 Grimmauld Place.