"As far as I'm concerned, we lost Bellatrix along with Regulus." It comes out almost without intention, bitter and clipped.
He looks down in surprise. His hands are wet, his teacup cracked. He hadn't been holding it tightly. A silent reparo, and he adds, more calmly, "I shall always wish Rodolphus well." And be so glad of the omission as not to jinx matters by highlighting it.
Sitting back, "I'm very pleased to hear that Draco is finding something less than despair-making to occupy himself with." He shudders slightly, shoving a thoroughly disgusting mental image away, and brings himself back. "And you?"