She gasped as she took in the wreckage of what had once clearly been a dining room. A great table dominated the space, albeit in four pieces instead of one. The jagged edges lay at odds to each other, and just beneath them Hermione could see a stray chair leg here and there. The sickly-sweet scent of dark magic filled the air, stale now since the room had sat closed, and combined with the dust settled over everything it had her quickly withdrawing to the relatively fresh air of the hallway. 