            Hermione flicked on the light, and the brass sconces on either side of the bed switched on. Real flames flickered behind grimy glass, the gas lamps magically connected to the light switch by the door. Hermione’s gaze drifted over the scarlet and gold bedspread, sunk in the center where Sirius must have once constantly sprawled. A quick check of the two other doors found a black-tiled bathroom and a walk-in closet, mostly empty save for a few robes and a man’s muggle clothing. Hermione’s hand lingered on the leather jacket, the smell of whiskey and tobacco and motor oil still clinging after all this time. She dropped her clothes on the closet floor and stepped naked into the bedroom. Her toes curled into the plush rug Sirius must have added later, smiling at the Primark tag sticking out the side.