There's no Lupin, or Grindelwald, or Dumbledore, but there is a Lovegood, a Potter, a Rosier. But none of these names really flash by Lucius - even Harry's existence as Sebastian LeMat doesn't register too highly, and he's never considered that to be his secret to speak about. Having as little to do with the Boy Who Lived is an appealing retirement plan.

No, just the silent thing left between them, and he wonders how much Severus already expects. Lucius knows he was fairly conspicuous already.

Fingers splay, curl in against his palm. "Yes," he says, after a moment, the tiniest crack in the otherwise iced over welcome that Severus has so far gotten. Fair is fair; he told one of them already. Not that he will express this, at all. "You have yourself a younger analogue as well. Quite different to you, although similarly covert in approach. It took him longer to come to me, and I think he only did so because I found evidence of him first."

He had hoped, actually, that it was his contemporary sitting in front of him now. But things change.