*As they step into the manor, Arthur fails spectacularly at keeping the glee from his face. He looks around, not remotely surprised by the pale stone and rich carpets and grey-eyed portraits going back centuries - and he's less surprised by the sterility of the place. It's fine, it's worthy of a museum - but there's no warmth at all. He thinks all the more fondly of the Burrow in comparison - well done, Molly.

Absolutely chipper, he draws his own wand, shrugging.*

I'm game for however you lot want to do it. I just want to see his face.