Happy Tuesday! As I had so many lovely comments from people who enjoyed the last but one chapter about Arthur's car journey, I have, in this time of crisis, slipped in another Arthur-centric chapter, in the hope of spreading the kind of cheer that our favourite wizarding dad epitomises in these weird times.

"Alright then," Lauren said, turning to look at Arthur and just managing to stop herself from laughing when she saw him proudly wearing her 'kiss the cook' apron which he had found hanging on the kitchen door. She stepped forward, gave him a kiss on the cheek and then, when he looked surprised - though not unhappy - she pointed to the words on his chest. "Just following instructions," she smiled. "Now, where would you like to start?"

"Anywhere you like," he beamed, looking around the kitchen. "I'd like to learn everything! In fact," he added, "if you would excuse me for a moment…"

Lauren watched fondly as Arthur walked across the kitchen and out of the open door which led into the back garden. Molly was sitting in the sun, watching Elliot look through the grass for insects, with her feet up on a low table. She turned when Arthur emerged, having not expected to see him again for a while. Once the four of them had arrived at the cottage, Lauren had given Arthur and Molly a quick tour of where everything was and made everyone a cup of tea before suggesting that Molly might enjoy being outside with her grandson. She had then offered Arthur the chance to help her in the kitchen, which he had leapt at. So Molly was surprised and slightly confused to see him coming outside again so quickly.

But her puzzlement didn't last long. No sooner had he arrived by her side than he pulled his wand from his special muggle trousers – a pair with brown and yellow checks which he had worn on assignments since the 1960's, when a colleague had explained that they were the height of muggle fashion – and ceremonially placed his wand on the low table in front of Molly.

"I'm going muggle for the afternoon," he announced proudly, before going back inside to continue helping in the kitchen. Molly simply chuckled, looked fondly at her grandson, and turned her knitting needles to begin another row.

"Okay," Lauren said, tying her own apron strings and then opening the fridge to show Arthur the contents. "So, I've bought lots of easy salads that we can tip into bowls just before we're ready to eat, but I've got lots of potatoes in my organic veggie box and there are some fresh chives growing in the garden so I'm going to make a potato salad and I thought you might like to help?"

"Oh yes, definitely," said Arthur. "Where do we start?"

"By peeling and chopping the potatoes," Lauren replied. "So if you open that drawer, you can look for a peeler and a vegetable knife…" She indicated the cutlery drawer and Arthur obediently opened it and then excitedly peered in, scanning it for things that he didn't recognise.

"I'm guessing we have pretty much the same cutlery," Lauren said, knowing from her meals and Elliot's cooking sessions at The Burrow that this was the case, "though from just living with Charlie for a few weeks, I know that we have a few devices that you don't need, because you have magic." Remembering the incident with the cheese grater – or, rather, with the lack of need for the cheese grater because Charlie applied a simple grating charm to the block of cheese that she had handed him when they shared a chilli – she opened another cupboard and showed Arthur the grater.

"I don't know this," he exclaimed happily, "or this!"

"That's a potato masher and that one is a hand blender for when you make soup."

Arthur clutched his chest. "A potato masher!" His delight was palpable.

Lauren was happy that there was no rush on the potato salad and that they had time to invest in Arthur's enjoyment of his experience. She leaned back on the worktop and smoothed her hair back into the tiniest of ponytails. She could just about fit it into a scrunchie and she pulled a brightly-coloured one off her wrist and tied her hair up. As she did, her fingers brushed the thread that was tied around her wedding ring finger and she smiled to herself. Inhaling deeply, Lauren took just a moment to feel grateful for everything that she had in her life, and for the fact that she was now part of this wonderful, loving family. In doing so, she didn't catch Arthur's next words and had to ask him to repeat what he had said.

"I wondered if you would like me to make you a family clock one day?" he asked Lauren, as he ran his fingers over the teaspoons.

Lauren came to stand next to him and put her hand gently on his back. It was clear that his question was referencing something that he could see in the drawer, but she wasn't sure what that could possibly be.

"Out of cutlery?" She managed to keep her voice neutral and not express surprise, thankful for her years of conducting interviews with people from all sorts of backgrounds. Perhaps this was what Arthur did in his shed.

"Well," Arthur said, touching a large fork, "I don't reckon I can do much with a fork, to be honest. That's more Fred and George's department." He pursed his lips, lost in thought for a moment. "Teaspoons are more my medium," he said, pulling one from the drawer. "I … K … E … A … he read. What does that stand for?"

"It doesn't stand for anything," Lauren smiled. "It's the name of a shop that sells things for the home. A big one. Just off the motorway that goes out of Bristol. I'll take you for your birthday, if you like," she promised. "When is your birthday?"

"February the sixth," he said, and Lauren took a pen from the pot on her shelf and made a note on her calendar.

"Oh!" Arthur was delighted to see the pens. "Can I see?"

"Of course." Lauren handed the mug over. "Which reminds me," she said. "I have a present for you. Hang on a sec." Arthur waited patiently as Lauren went into the small spare bedroom that she used as an office and came back through the hall and into the kitchen with something in her hand. "Here," she said, "I got this for you at the shop in the village. I thought you might like to take notes."

Arthur took the object and carefully turned it around in his hands. "Spiral bound reporter's notebook," he read from the cover, while fingering the twists of plastic at the top of the object. "What does it do?" he asked.

"It's for writing notes in. Here, let me show you." Lauren held her hand out for it again and showed Arthur that the book was full of paper. He exclaimed at how thin the sheets were – much more efficient than parchment – and was even more delighted to see how he could hold the notebook in his hand and fold a sheet back once he had written upon it. "Here's your other present," she said, handing over a plastic pen that had four long buttons down the side, each a different colour. "It has four different coloured inks, and you just press the one you want … look," she demonstrated as she talked, "and you can write in your notebook with it. If you'd like to."

She was engulfed in a hug before she had finished that sentence. "It's marvellous," Arthur said. "Thank you so much! I really do need to make you a clock," he continued. "I have so many clocks to make for you all that I should get started, like Molly and her jumpers," he said. He looked into the distance. "See, I was still deciding whether they should be marriage presents or housewarming presents or first child presents," he continued, speaking more to himself than Lauren, "and I had started gathering spoons for Bill, but now you and Charlie have beaten him to the first grandchild, of course," he beamed. "If we could go to I … K … E … A … then that would help me enormously. We don't have shops that just specialise in things for the home. Well, not things like teaspoons, anyway." He looked off into the distance. "Of course, I need to think carefully about Fred and George. I imagine they'll want to have each other on theirs, although maybe some of the rest of you will, too. We need to have a clock meeting," he declared.

Lauren had come to the conclusion that Arthur somehow incorporated teaspoons into his clock mechanism, which at least made some sense, but his comment about Fred and George being on each other's clocks had confused her again. Before she had a chance to ask more, though, Arthur had sat himself down at the kitchen table, opened his reporter's notebook and clicked through and written his name, the date and, after checking with Lauren, the exact address of her cottage in three different colours of ink before settling on green to write some notes to himself.

Lauren decided to leave Arthur to his notes and ask Charlie about the clock later. She busied herself getting a chopping board out, putting a few large potatoes on a tray and filling a saucepan with water. As she stood at the sink, she heard a quiet noise at the kitchen door and turned to see her son standing there. But before Lauren could say anything, Elliot waved to her and then immediately ran back out again. In the distance, she heard him answering the question that Molly had sent him to investigate. "Gandad's colouring!" he exclaimed.

She smiled. "Let's make another cup of tea before we set you to work on the potato salad," she said. "I bet Molly would like that."

"Indeed she would," Arthur agreed. Having finished his notes, he put his notebook and pen carefully into his pocket and then stood up again, tentatively approaching the corner of the kitchen where the kettle stood amidst a large collection of coloured boxes of teabags. "Now, tell me," he said, in his usual mild tone. "Does it have a hard bite?"

"The kettle?" Even the unflappable Lauren was surprised by that one. "Why would it … bite?"

"Ah, well that's a jolly good question," Arthur replied, subconsciously reaching for his wand and then wondering if he would regret having left it outside as Lauren lifted the kettle off its stand and took it to the tap. She was very brave, he thought, but perhaps she had some kettle taming experience. Maybe that was something that she and Charlie had in common. Arthur pursed his lips, thankful that he could at least do something wandless if need be. He carefully stood guard as Lauren filled the kettle with cold water, replaced it on its little plastic stand and then pressed a switch. A light went on, and Arthur struck an offensive pose, ready to defend them both from the errant plastic jug-like enemy.

"Behind me!" he instructed, waving for Lauren to move so that he could protect her from the threat, which was now making a noise.

"Honestly," she said, reaching for his arm and patting it, "it's okay, Arthur. This is normal behaviour for a kettle. It's quite safe. Look," she gently encouraged him to come closer to the counter. "Let me explain how it works. Oh!" She exclaimed, having just remembered something. "I know what I have … I bet you'll love this! You can borrow it if you like."

Lauren led Arthur into the sitting room and sat him in an armchair while she squatted down and looked through her bookshelves. She went nearly from one end to the other before she found what she was looking for, and then exclaimed loudly when she happened upon her prize, plucking a large, hardback book from one of the bottom shelves. "Here we go!"

She turned back and found Arthur watching the doorway from the kitchen, still not fully trusting the kettle to not jump off the worktop and come racing after them. "Arthur ... Dad," she said, in the gentle but firm voice that was more often used for tiny people who were questioning bedtime, or refusing to don their pyjamas. "The kettle isn't going to hurt you. The noise is just the water boiling. It's not sentient, not magical, it's powered with electricity and it is firmly under my control. I promise." She handed him the book. "Have a look at this. It explains how things work by mechanics and electricity. Maybe like the clockwork that you build into your clocks to tell the time?" she suggested.

"Oh no," Arthur said happily. "My clocks don't tell the time! We have wands for that! No," he continued. "My clocks tell you where people are and whether they're safe. Much more useful!"

Lauren was so surprised by this revelation that it took her a few moments to process it. Which wasn't a problem, because Arthur had taken the 'How It Works' book from her hands and was gleefully thumbing through the shiny pages.

"This is marvellous!" he exclaimed. "This will revolutionise my work! You see," he obediently got up when Lauren beckoned and followed her back into the kitchen as he continued chatting, "in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office we don't so much need to know what the muggle use of things is. We simply need to make sure that charmed and enchanted objects don't make their way into the muggle world. It's illegal to use magic on muggle objects," he explained, "and until my promotion it was my job to locate any muggle objects which had been enchanted and to undo any consequences that had."

"That sounds very interesting," Lauren said. This pleased Arthur enormously. Many at the Ministry thought his department was among the most boring. "But I thought you added magic to a car?" Lauren looked confused, remembering the conversation that they had had on the journey over from The Burrow. "Isn't that the very thing your office tried to prevent people doing?"

"Ah, indeed," said Arthur, tapping the side of his nose with his finger. "But, like lots of magic," he explained, "it's all about intention. See, I didn't intend to take the car out, so I wasn't doing anything wrong!"

Arthur looked very pleased with himself. Remembering more about the conversation in the car, and realising that this could get complex quickly, Lauren decided that further analysis of what she thought was a rather grey area, ethically speaking, might be better left for another day. Perhaps when she had back-up in the form of Charlie or Fred. She would sorely love to debate the ins and outs of wizarding ethics with Arthur, but it didn't seem quite fair.

"Alright then," she said, back in the kitchen. Lauren explained that the potatoes needed to be peeled and chopped into chunks for boiling, making it clear that she was happy for Arthur to use his wand. Arthur was equally clear that he was going 'full muggle' for the day. So she furnished him with the potato peeler and a small vegetable knife and gave him a thorough lesson in the use of both. "But take the potatoes outside. It'll take you a while, and you might as well enjoy the sun and keep Molly company. I'll bring your tea."

Having delivered two cups of tea to Molly and Arthur and taken Elliot a tippy cup containing dilute ribena – his treat for being good in the car – Lauren went back inside to make her own tea. She took a deep breath and smiled to herself as she heard Arthur outlining his tasks to Molly and demonstrating the potato peeler. He showed his wife the picture of the cube that he had asked Lauren to draw in his notebook, illustrating the size of potato chunk that he was aiming for. Lauren had truly never realised quite how exciting the making of potato salad could be. Or how much passion Arthur had for learning about the muggle world. And this was just the first stage; they still had to boil the potatoes and then mix in the mayonnaise and the chives.

"Thank you," said Molly, when Lauren came out again and sat down in a garden chair. When Lauren looked at Molly's face, her expression said more than a thousand words could have done. It might have looked to an outsider – and perhaps to Arthur himself – that Molly was thanking Lauren for the tea but, in that one look, Lauren could see Molly's gratitude for the way that Lauren had taken Arthur's interest seriously and not made fun of it.

"It's my pleasure," said Lauren, smiling back at Molly and wanting to let her know that she understood. It was easy to see how others may have made fun of Arthur's innocence and enthusiasm. "And now that Arthur has the potatoes under control, I'm going to give Charlie a quick ring and see where he's at."

Lauren took her phone from her pocket and clicked the number that would call her man. She was very much enjoying introducing Arthur to the muggle world, but it was clear that his eagerness was going to take her full attention. It was time to call in reinforcements.