((No worries! And it's brilliant. <3 I love Will.))
The strength of Will's handshake was a pleasant surprise. Arcturus had been all-too-ready to dismiss him as, if not weak, then at least a little on the weedy side, but he wasn't the sort to hold on to preconceptions even after they had been proven quite wrong. It might be better in this case, he decided, to reserve judgement until he knew the other boy a little better. Arcturus himself was tall for his age back home, and of fairly ordinary build. Since arriving in Preya he'd gained a few pounds – larger portions than he got at school made a difference, as did having free access to as many cakes and sweets as he wanted! - but he was still relatively slight by modern standards. The voluminous winter robe, however, effectively concealed his shape and size from the observer.
He watched Will take off his strange multi-coloured coat with an amused half-smile, and then gave a nod of approval when it was deposited on the chair. His eyes were briefly drawn to the book placed on the table, but he refrained from asking about it. There would be time enough for that. Arcturus hoped that it contained something interesting. If Will had brought along an essay he'd been set for prep, or something equally tedious, then he'd simply have to do his best to discourage him. The tavern was no place for schoolwork of any sort.
The questions about Quidditch he waved away, not because he didn't want to answer them – there was nothing he liked to talk about more, and Will's obvious admiration was impossible not to appreciate – but because he wanted to get settled first. 'Yes, alcohol,' he said mildly, concealing his amusement. 'But only beer. I'll get you one. I shan't be a minute.' With that, he turned and strode off towards the bar, again not waiting for any confirmation. He saw nothing wrong with drinking beer. His father permitted it; it was only drunkenness that he condemned, and Arcturus reckoned that the school rules against visiting pubs were entirely misguided and to be ignored. He wasn't at school now, anyway. Will was going to have a drink with him, because Will wasn't an awful prig like some other muggle boys were about it, and that was another point in his favour.
It wasn't too long before he returned, carefully carrying a large, frothy mug of beer which he set down in front of Will. A few drops of the drink sloshed onto the table, but fortunately didn't get anywhere near the sketchbook. 'I think you'll like this,' he said. 'It's pale ale. It isn't sweet like butterbeer, but it's good.' That said, he slid back into the opposite seat, and took a quick drink from his own mug.
'Now let me tell you more about Quidditch,' he declared, finally ready to share more of his knowledge. Will had asked intelligent questions; he wanted to answer them seriously. 'A broom works through an interaction between its magic and the rider's. There are probably complicated reasons behind it which belong in a magical theory textbook, but that is how it is. When you purchase a broom, it comes with most of the charms already attached, for flying, and braking, and the cushioning charm so that it isn't horrendously uncomfortable to sit on.' Arcturus winced at the thought. 'Last century, most people had to do all the spellwork themselves. I know how to do it-' in no small part because Richard Summerby had taught him how, here in Preya, but that was a complication he wasn't about to get into, '-but it's better to purchase a broom made by experts.' Last century to Arcturus, of course, meant the eighteenth. 'It isn't possible to control a broomstick unless you're magical yourself, though,' he added, a little more softly. He guessed that this would be a disappointment to Will.