Morgan laughed, a bright burst of sound that made the couple the next table over glance over at them. Different? Why, yes, it was different for him. Perhaps he shouldn't have found it funny, but he did. "I'm sorry," he said, eyes still crinkled at the corners with suppressed humor. "It's -- well, that's the thing." Quickly he sketched out an unlabeled family tree, turning the parchment around so Miles could see, and pointing to one of the circles. "My great-grandmother on the maternal line was Muggleborn and that made Dad a blood traitor, you know that part of our family history. But here and here, do you see, there aren't any Muggles in my family tree past the fourth generation. The Ministry recently decided to redefine the concept of 'pureblood'; you're only halfblood if there's a Muggleborn or Muggle in the past three generations. It's a joke to anyone who cares a whit about the concept of purity, of course, but the legal ramifications remain the same regardless."
And, of course, no matter what his ancestors were, the Ministry would still keep an eye on him for different reasons. Nevermind. Morgan remembered that Miles was likely one of those purebloods who cared, so he was slightly more tentative when he added, "The point is, the Bletchleys have been known to be purists -- not the done thing, these days, as you can imagine -- so if you have the name, things get a bit, hmm. Tricky. You'd think I'd be exempt, for example, but I've found certain people will judge first and ask questions later, if ever."