For a split second, she thought he was going to take her bag and turf it out the door. But no, that wasn't his style. Still, she felt a flood of weary relief when he put her bag in the guestroom and returned. He was going to let her stay then. She wouldn't have to go back to the Burrow, at least not for a while.
Of course, then he sat down and rattled off a list of Percy-isms (she did make a mental note to check the green notebook tomorrow morning and buy whatever was needed) and she couldn't help but smirk. Gently smirk, but smirk all the same.
"Merlin, Perce, do you have a notebook of which of your pants needs washing, too?"