"Draco didn't tell you?" he asked, taking back his hand. Intimate conversation was not so easily given, and Regulus was correct in his memory that such a conversation had never happened before. Indeed, Lucius rarely indulged in this manner of discussion without strict purpose.
Whatever his full motivations, Lucius knew that he was unlikely to survive in this time without building trust where he could afford to build it. Not his own of course, but that of others. He easily recalled Draco's words he's like me. Reassurance, family approval, the subtle spell that bound together all pureblood families if only it could be cast in the right way.
"Your father died the same year as you disappeared, though I believe it was unconnected to the war I cannot be certain. Your mother did not die for some years, of illness I believe. Your brother died in the second war, killed by Bellatrix in battle. She herself also fell in battle," it made for a depressing list, but it was to be expected given the final side the war had fallen upon.
"I am sorry," he said in the same tone, gaze fixed upon the younger man.