“Ah, here we are,” Nora slipped her hand from Sorrow's and began to fumble in her purse. Her keys were in there somewhere, amidst the pens and quills and treats, maybe tucked under the wallet now filled with muggle money. Truth be told she was stalling.
Why had she suggested they stay at her flat? How could that possibly be a good idea? After taking the job at Hogwarts Nora had barely been back to her London home, and the distance from it had made it seem like a nice place to get away to. Now, as she stood in front of the door, Sorrow a pace behind her, she doubted herself. Yes, it was in a nice location, and Nora had spent many hours in the coffee shop across the street or the shops nearby, but the studio itself was tiny and cramped. It offered no great view, claimed no high ceilings or fancy artwork.
Sorrow must surely be used to corridors that went on forever and rooms that were beautifully decorated. She had learned he had grown up in a mansion, and silly her she still suggested they spend a few days in her home. It wasn't until this very instant she imagined how very dull and small it would seem to him.
It had been her home for a long time, though. It was hers, her own personal sanctuary, and she wanted to share it with Sorrow.
With one last silent prayer, she pushed the door opened and stepped inside.
Dim light from the streetlamps outside washed through the window, bathing everything in an unnatural yellow hue. She reached over to flick on the lights, and immediately regretted it.
The small kitchen area was neat enough, as was the table nearby with two chairs. The rest of the place, though, was quite cluttered. The bed in the far corner was unmade, blankets and sheets still ruffled from the last time she had been here. A nightstand was crowded with books, half tumbled to the floor.
It was lived in, loved. There were signs of Nora all around: little trinkets she had found here and there, carvings of beasts of wood and stone, a stack of letters half written and fully forgotten about. A bookcase was filled to capacity, the books placed on it haphazardly and in no order that could be seen. A shelf above the floral printed sofa was filled with pictures in mismatched frames. They showed smiling faces and wide fields, a little girl with vibrant hair standing between a man and woman. A few plants sat withering on the windowsill, brown petals and leaves scattering the hardwood floor beneath them. Her desk was the worst of it. A computer was nearly buried under papers and parchment, all memos and notes she had jotted down only to leave behind. The machine hummed on diligently – she had left it on for weeks, now.
Nora felt the color rise in her cheeks as she hurriedly moved farther into the room and started to ineffectually put the loose papers into neat piles. She didn't look back at Sorrow, but mumbled into her work, just loud enough for him to hear her from the door.
“I...um. I should have come ahead of time and cleaned it up. I'm sorry.”
That was rude, though. It was rude to leave him standing there. She replaced the papers on the desk, and walked back to Sorrow. It was important to be a good host, if nothing else. “Do you want some water? I don't really keep any food here when I'm at the school. We'll have to go to the store later...”
It was the first time she had invited someone to stay with her here, and she found herself suddenly nervous. It was just Sorrow, though, and she scolded herself for her feelings. They had spent so many nights together already – sometimes in her living area and other times in his – that this should be no different. But it was. To her it was something new, and new things never ceased to frighten her.
Home 
