Hermione blinked. The tube-like corridor had opened up onto something entirely different. They were now in a long hallway, poorly lit by dirty ceiling lights, half of which were spluttering in and out of life. Faded, emerald green wallpaper peeled off the walls and there were distant noises that Hermione couldn’t quite pick out, behind a number of doors with angular, irregular frames set into the left-hand side of the hallway. The whole place was dense with a sweet, rotting smell, as though something had died and nobody had bothered to clear away the corpse.