Arcturus was pleasantly surprised by Draco's conservative, tidy appearance, as he'd prepared himself for the worst. Some people from the future did dress in an incredibly odd fashion. At the other wizard's greeting, he couldn't help the momentary expression of uncertainty that crossed his face. It felt wrong. It was too close to Hogwarts, to fourth cousins and other assorted hangers-on pretending close kinship and familiarity because they wanted his favour, or wanted him to convince his father to do something for theirs. He couldn't help the flash of warning in his mind, the impulse to determine Draco's ulterior motive.
Of course, he said nothing, quickly resuming a neutral, pleasant expression as he stepped inside. Perhaps it was nothing. Perhaps it was only that Draco was from the future and he didn't see how it appeared, to lead with that. Did he know that Arcturus missed his family, that he felt alone? He would say nothing, he decided, and set the right example if the opportunity arose.
The next question was an easier one. 'Tea would be splendid, thank you,' he answered. 'You do have proper tea, don't you? I thought I was going to have a cup earlier, but it turned out to be some sort of odd tisane that would not have looked out of place in first-year Herbology.' Despite the complaint, his tone was light, as if it were all a little joke at his own expense.
He glanced around the room then, appraising it silently. The muggle books resulted in a frown; Arcturus was highly suspicious of muggle medicine and all that went along with it, having been told stories in his early childhood that made its practitioners seem more like madmen or ignorant butchers than healers. Again, he let it go, and his expression brightened as he examined the little potion bottles and assorted supplies. Arcturus had very strong opinions about respectable, wealthy purebloods not working, but by that he meant engaging in trade, or worse still, being employed by someone else. Following one's interests in order to keep busy was entirely different, and quite acceptable. Besides, there was still the possibility that the Malfoy family was financially quite ruined by Draco's century, and if that was the case than Arcturus could forgive him quite a lot, certainly for minor breaches of etiquette or convention.
This rather morose thought prompted another – that of Arcturus' own current situation. Money wouldn't be a problem to him, not with the transfiguration tricks he knew, but to his knowledge there wasn't a single house-elf in this entire town. He hurried after Draco before the tea-making was too far along. 'May I watch?' he asked. 'I know it starts with a heating charm on the kettle, but after that…' he trailed off, shrugging. 'I have never had to do it. My friend Carrow tried once, at Hogwarts, but the charm made the kettle explode. Rather lucky we were at a distance, although I wouldn't put it past him to have done it on purpose to try to give me a fright.'