The room is mirrors on all four walls and a velvet ottoman and nothing else, and it has been waiting a hundred and twenty years.

Mione pulls the last sheet off and the room fills with the two of them, repeated to the edges, and the candles go up.

MioneRight. This is the bit where I stop being sensible about the house.

MalfoidYou have been sensible about the house for nine days. It has been exhausting to watch.

Neither of them looks at you, which turns out to be the entire invitation.