Time slowed as he gazed upon his witch. She was obviously nervous, gripping a small bag from Honeydukes so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. Her hair had been pulled back and secured on the top of her head with her wand, a few curls escaping confinement as she chewed her bottom lip. Remus realized he not only had been staring, but hadn’t invited her in. Trying to remedy this misstep, he stood up quickly, chair scraping on the stone floor, and in his haste, knocking over the stack of essays as a bottle of ink tipped over.