Arcturus nodded encouragingly. ‘That’s what I mean, just so,’ he said, gesturing towards the expanse of ice below them. ‘You made it appear out of nothing; that is conjuration – or something very much like it. It is what we would call it back home.’ Arcturus didn’t care much for the finer details. It didn’t bother him if the other boy didn’t want to call it conjuration – or, indeed, if his magical theory professor would take issue with the statement that conjuration would create ice out of nothing, exactly. It was close enough that he was assured that the older boy wasn’t a muggle, and that was what mattered.
The next question pleased him even more. ‘If you mean the magical school, then I am!’ he said brightly. ‘You can fly with me if you’re worried about being late, there’s plenty of room,’ he offered with a smile. ‘I haven’t seen you there before, are you in the advanced classes?’ Given the broad range of abilities in Preya, classes at the magical school tended to be organised by proficiency rather than strictly by age, and Arcturus fell into the intermediate category for most of his subjects.