"Idiotic story," he comments. "No, indeed. Do they actually have any?"
"He had the impression himself, and others picked it up off of him. The self-confidence of the charismatic madman is both profound and infinitely convincing. I didn't 'get involved with him,' exactly. He was a toxin in the river I moved in, with the foetid quicksands of mediocrity on one bank, and on the other, crocodiles."
He considers. "Not technically. He betrayed the Dark Lord, left him a note, and made a beeline for the most devoted Death Eater that ever was." He shrugs. "Wizarding families often do. That's what comes of naming your children after another culture's emperors and gods."
"Well, yes, but 'professor' doesn't mean anything else." He grins like a shark. "Oh, yes." He summons a fine-headed tweezer and a small bowl of strawberries. "Separate the fruit from the seed. Since we're working on your motor skills, try to leave the skin unpierced, but I'd prefer speed in this case, and distilled water will remove the juices adequately for my purpose. If I tell you that the potion the seeds will be used in will contain pennyroyal and the skin of a stag's antlers and be prepared using a copper mortar and pestle, what can you tell me about it?"