Mycroft stops himself from sighing. Things had been going so well. Why the man across from him suddenly feels the need to make small talk is a complete mystery. It's true that there are interesting details about him, things that Mycroft is sure would be a benefit to know (the spell research, the old-fashioned writing system, the robes), but there is time to learn, and Mycroft would rather choose that time himself.

"Neither," he says, eyes still on his reading. His tone isn't necessarily rude, but it makes it clear that he's not interested in elaborating.