The sun was already going down, but the chandeliers weren’t lit yet. The corridors were full of long shadows. Every step echoed through the house. Hermione wanted to go back to her room but forced herself to turn in the opposite direction. If someone that doesn’t know about the arrangement is coming over tomorrow, she must know the house at least partially. Unlike Flint’s house, most of the doors were unlocked. Hermione walked through several rooms before she knew that she was too tired to continue. She has already been in a room that was meant for brewing potions, an office that didn’t have anything significant in it, and multiple other places that blurred into one. Hermione took another turn and found herself next to a massive door with a lock on it. She shivered, there was only one place where it could lead. The dungeons. The entire house was filled with horrifying memories. That night will always be engraved in her brain. No matter how long she will live here, even if no one puts her in danger for a year, which she highly doubted, the Malfoy Manor will always associate with death and terror.