Satisfied that the arrangements were settled on, Arcturus carried on eating his pudding. It really was very good, especially by comparison to the modern muggle foods he'd been dealing with whenever he wasn't at Cassiopeia's for dinner.
'I only asked because you're rather more agreeable than the prefects I know, and I didn't think it could be long since you left school yourself.' He gave her another small smile. 'Most of ours would have been threatening to hex me for going near muggle machines, instead of understanding why I did it. I'd say it's because you're a girl, but it's not that, because one of my very best friends at school is a girl, Miss Rosier, and she says some on their side can be terrors, too.' Arcturus shrugged. 'It isn't terribly important. That is, I don't mind them. I'll be one myself next year.' This last was said with certainty. He was a Black, it was the natural order of things.
He continued, hurriedly, 'Except I didn't mean at all to say that I wanted to use the muggle technology at home! That would be a horrid idea. I only meant that when Papa arrives he's going to be irate about it, I can tell. I don't want him to think that I did it because I...like muggles, you know. If you could tell him that it was a necessary, sensible thing to do here, he might believe you.' Arcturus' fears weren't entirely unfounded, but they were based on how muggle objects were treated at home. He forgot that his father, strict traditionalist or not, would hardly react to the discovery that his missing son was safe and well by questioning him about whether he'd lived up to their standards in all particulars.
'There's a shop in Everdale which sells proper writing-quills. I think that there might be some empty journals there,' he suggested. 'I can find them, if you'll take care of the enchantments.'