Awkward silences and Severus Snape; more likely than you think. Lucius often, these days, let's them ride on by rather than find some elegant way to fill them, content to drink, lazily observe their most unlikely surroundings, deftly avoid his own train of thoughts. He does not look for humour, this time; the First War is not remembered fondly and is, indeed, the centre of his reference.

It and the events that followed do tend to keep one up at night, after all. He flicks a glance up at Severus at mention of the imprisoning fog, something somewhat calculating in an attempt to read the other man's expression, before he pays attention only to his glass again.

"I very much doubt she did," he agrees, neutrally.