Leathan didn't know if he was more pleased or more on edge about this, for lack of a better term, date, with Charlotte. He'd certainly spent far more time getting ready to apparate to her home than he had ever spent when getting ready to take her to a match or to a pub or anywhere, for that matter. Even the time he'd accompained her to that gala, he'd given himself little more than a cursory glance in the mirror.

Today, he'd found himself on the verge of female behavior as he'd sorted through his closet a dozen times before tugging on his nicest pair of jeans and a dark red tshirt after he'd spent and inordinate amount of time in the bathroom shaving, showering and applying cologne. It was only as a last moment decision that he realized that maybe he should grab his robes and wear them over his jeans and tshirt.

Leathan had never been cut out for more than a working class lifestyle.

Now, looking and smelling his best, (something he was sure that Charlotte would appreciate - though he was entirely unsure about her parents), he apparated with a pop just outside the Dupree grounds and found that his heart was in his throat when he knocked on the door.

With all the polite etiquette he knew, he followed in the butler and reached the room where Charlotte waited for him.

She was a vision.

For a long moment he stared at her before he moved a halting step towards her. "You look good," he said simply, the tone and meaning of his words filled with sincerity.

He wanted to rush to her, pick her up, press his lips hard to her own and never let her go. Instead, he moved sedately to her, took up her hand, pressed a kiss to the back of it and then, with reluctance, let go of her hand. "How are you?"