Harry was blushing in a way he hadn’t done in years. Mixed in with the embarrassment there was an almost surprised anger, frustrated with how this conversation had ended. Up until a certain point, Lucius hadn’t said anything that wasn’t public knowledge, given you knew where to look; that border had been crossed some time ago. Yet, above all of his frustration, Harry felt helpless.<br/>The dryness of Draco’s voice, however, hit Harry harder than expected, making him clench his jaw. Draco, who had otherwise been completely civil to Harry, was evidently growing as tired of Luicus’ bragging as Harry was, and, to Harry, that eventually reflected back on him. It made his stomach turn.<br/>Lucius, on the other hand, either didn’t notice or didn’t care about the sarcasm in his son’s answer. “It is. Remarkable.”<br/>Silence fell around the table and the kitchen staff took that as an opportunity to clear the salads. Their sudden presence startled Harry, forcing him to face the fact that this was an actual lunch and not some macabre play. It was only when they found themselves staring down upon the fish course that Lucius continued.<br/>“And this is my son, Draco.” His voice was diluted of its phony excitement, as he finally turned towards his son. He reached out to place a hand on the back rest of Draco’s, but the gesture was so out of place for Lucius’ character that, to Harry, to came across as threatening. He picked a blonde hair off the nape of Draco’s shirt. “He’s been studying medicine in Paris these last few years, but I am pleased to have him back this semester.”