Arcturus nodded eagerly. 'Yes sir, flying sounds like a splendid idea,' he said. It did, if he ignored the fact that he would never be able to keep up with Richard either on his 19th century Celeritas, or the new broom with its enchantments largely modelled after it. These were only small concerns, however, because Arcturus never passed up an opportunity to fly. Besides, Richard might be able to teach him some Quidditch tricks and tactics as yet unknown to his team back home. At fourteen, he was one of the youngest selected for the first team this year – school Quidditch was fiercely competitive and none of the junior students even got a look-in – and he was eager to prove his worth.
He was quiet then as he turned his attention to his lunch, and it was a few minutes before he turned his attention back to Richard.
'Thanks awfully for the journal, too,' he said. 'I'll take the time to look over all the equations, and see if I can make sense of them.' It was rather optimistic, he thought, as was the thought that he might have enough knowledge to fill the book with his own work, but he appreciated the thought all the same. Enough to honestly try it out, instead of just telling the older wizard what he thought he wanted to hear, and that was rare for Arcturus, who valued the ability to placate adults far more highly than telling the truth.
After draining the remnants of his tea, he tilted his head slightly, a thought coming to him. 'I'll have to adjust to account for the rule differences back home. It's quite rare to switch out a broom partway through a game. I don't know anyone who has more than one – excepting the professionals, perhaps. There are likely other differences too, because our game isn't much like that of the 1700s. But I'm rather curious. You needn't answer if you think the question impolite, but with all those risky, high-speed manoeuvres, what's the worst crash you ever had? I broke my arm once, and I wasn't even flying terribly fast.'