Hermione’s heart fluttered in her chest as she pushed the heavy door open. The room was smaller than she was used to seeing it, lit by hundreds of candles in various shapes and sizes all around its periphery. To their right, an overly large leather armchair sat in front of a roaring fireplace, not unlike the one in their eighth year common room. To the other side was a round table piled with fruits and cheeses. Further beyond was the bed she’d asked for. A four-poster like her old one in Gryffindor tower, but large enough to sleep the both of them.