“Don’t bleed on my floor.” Ginny didn’t even turn from the stove to see the state her husband was in as he staggered in the back door. “I don’t care whose it is, I just cleaned in here and if you bleed all over the floor, you’re cleaning it up this time, because that’s the sixth time this week and I’m tired of doing it. Six times, Harry! You know how many days in the week there are? Seven! You know how many days a week you come home covered in blood, your own or someone else’s? Six times so far this week, this makes number seven, and I am not cleaning up after you again, you can do it yourself for a change!”
Harry stared at her in shock for a minute, then pulled his wand out of his sleeve and cleaned all the blood off of his clothes before taking another step.
“Much. Now go get cleaned up. Supper’s almost ready.”
“Yes, dear,” Harry said, hiding his grin till he was out of sight.
“And clean up your footprints! I just cleaned the carpets, too!”
“Yes, dear!” Harry called from the bedroom.