'I do trust you, Miss Narcissa,' Arcturus replied simply. 'You're family, and even when one cannot trust anyone else, there's always family.' It was how things worked. Arcturus didn't particularly like some of his blood relatives back home, but he still knew that he could rely upon them. 'Please believe me when I say I don't make a habit of upsets. I'm not an infant, I know it doesn't help anything. Those people from the future are just horrid and I shall ignore them. I don't believe a word they say. They aren't righteous, just liars who want to cause a reaction, just as you said. I know that the distant future is an unpleasant place, but I also know that is the fault of mudbloods and muggles. Not us. I've heard that good pureblood wizards will suffer for standing up for what is right, and that is all I need to know. Cousin Cassiopeia says I mustn't fret because even when I am an old, old man, people will still behave decently.'
Arcturus suddenly realised that he was saying far too much, and he dipped his head again, self-consciously, and then turned his attention to the house-elf, whom he instructed to put milk and sugar in his tea for him. When it was done to his liking, he took a long sip from the cup, and followed it up with a small spoon of the plum pudding. As soon as he had finished his mouthful, his face lit up with a broad, genuinely enthusiastic smile. 'I say, this is almost exactly like the pudding we have at home! Did your elf make it? I don't suppose that elves have recipe-books, but this does taste just right.' The young wizard's next spoonful was decidedly larger.
As he ate, he considered the matter of school. Perhaps she was right, and it needn't be so terrible. 'I can go up to the fifth with everyone else if I pass the examinations,' he agreed a moment later, 'and I do have my schoolbooks here with me.' He had firmly rejected the idea of tutoring before, believing that it would be an admittance that he wasn't going to leave Preya soon. 'Perhaps if I can pass the practical things, like transfiguration, it won't matter that I'm not any good at other lessons without Carrow to help me. He's my best friend at school. I expect you know his distant relations. Don't you know the Summerbys? Theirs is an awfully good bloodline, even if my father says they're involved in some disreputable business. Mr Summerby is from the future and he knows absolutely everything about broomsticks and he's showing me some new flying tricks. I really wouldn't say that everyone in the wizarding community is lovely,' - it technically included those who had been horrid to him, after all – 'but Mr Summerby is generally a good sort.'