The books on the shelf were a mix of non-fiction (Muggle history, focusing especially on post-war times) and fiction (novels, including one she had read and adored, and several she’d never heard of). The door led into his bedroom—a wide bed made of dark wood and richly covered in blankets—and a door in that room led to a small bathroom. The windows overlooked a narrow alleyway on one side, and a familiar-looking street on the other, streetlamps flickering warm in the night. "Is that Diagon Alley?" she called.