There's a bathroom in the back (of the back), but it's just a toilet, sink, and mirror, like you'd find in any small business' bathroom. Wolfgang's trying to figure out the logistics of putting a shower in there. There's only so much magic you can do before you've made yourself a big magical mess and realise you need to learn something about plumbing.
A lot of the books on the counters are textbooks, pretty heavily used, likely bought from one of those little shops by the colleges that buys back textbooks from starving students every semester. A lot of them are pretty advanced, too — calculus, theoretical physics, astronomy, organic chemistry. No wonder Wolfgang knows just about everything. Their taste in fiction is less daunting. Not a lot of classics. Lots of books about animals. The one on top of the pile has a raven on it.
They clear a space on one of the counters and haul themself up on it, rubbing their arms while they wait for the heat to kick in. “I should figure out another way to heat it but I'm afraid I burn the whole place down.”