Keeping Score Keeping Score

Harry had prepared meticulously for the most difficult mission he had ever undertaken in his life.  He was wearing his good suit.  He was on his way to pick up Ginny for their date.  He was in a chauffeured limousine.  He was on time.  He had the flowers.  He had the ring in his pocket, secured by magic.

And he had the feeling that he was going to be sick.

Harry managed to control his queasiness until he arrived at The Burrow.  He stepped out of the limo, straightened his suit, checked the time (he was only a few minutes early), checked to make certain the flowers were undamaged, checked the time again, steeled himself and resolutely marched up to the door.  He rapped once, twice, thrice.

The door flew open and Harry was subjected to the embarrassment of Mrs. Weasley gushing with all spouts on full.  “Oh, Harry, you look so handsome!  The flowers are so beautiful!  What a fine car!  Come in, come in, Ginny isn’t quite ready yet.”  She continued effusively as she led him into the living room.  “Where did you get such a fine suit?  How did work go today?  Any new leads on Crabbe?”