"O shades of Crouch and Avery," he murmurs. Yes, all right, he uses animal bits in both cookery and brewing, but that's a utility thing. "...Not a gentleman, then?" But he'd thought Gaav had said 'he...' Oh, well, no matter.
"Not your business with me," he says flatly, eyes narrowing warily at this reply. "Your purpose, which elevates you beyond the moral bookends of four generations." Three in Riddle's case... and probably in Albus's, so call it an average.
So apparently I started typing this last night and forgot I hadn't finished. n,n;;