Hermione quickly ducked down an alley and made a sharp turn, placing herself on the street opposite where Dobby sat. Glancing over her shoulder, she caught the warm glow of the headlights. With one last deep breath, she stepped under the streetlamp and stopped at the third door on her left. The door was as she remembered it with its ordinary knocker, worn wood structure, and prime location in an inconspicuous street in one of the rougher areas of London proper.