@beealight
He shouldn’t be surprised that she’s already made up the couch for him. Honestly, he wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d kept it made up every day since he left. Charity was just kind of that way.
He hadn’t knocked, just opened the door and called her name, dropping a bag of his things by the front door as he bent to remove his boots. Amos always stayed here when he was crashing in Godric’s Hollow; he’d been offered a tent, a bed, even given a pick of any of the smaller houses if he really felt inclined, but none of the options settled well with him. Sleeping on someone’s couch felt more right to him. After all, he was just passing through--he had a home, somewhere else, his mother’s home, or his home now that his mum was gone. Godric’s Hollow couldn’t be his home, not the way it was to the refugees. “Charity?” he called again, careful to make sure he wasn’t tracking any dirt across the floor as he crossed to the kitchen.













