"Yours is a special case, yes. I'm afraid fear is the only antidote to contempt in the under-eighteens." He wondered how much everyone knew, exactly, about what had happened to the last two Muggle Studies professors who hadn't been Death Eaters; some of the details had been less than pleasant. - That was a strange thought to have, though, and he dropped it. Concerts and small, cheerful restaurants in Muggle London were about as far from all of that as he could imagine, thankfully.
Pasta sounded warm, which was close to the most important criteria at the moment. That, and that it wasn't Hogwarts. "Very well. I've done well following your suggestions, for the evening ..." He was looking forward to shaking the snow off his coat, too. Not being able to use one's wand was a small enough price to pay for a night away, of course, but it did make for a slightly more damp experience.