Lucius left his menu on the table. "The salmon, then," he said lightly. Draco was plainly displeased about something, and he wasn't going to stew over it with his lunch. After spending the weekend watching Narcissa suffering through the pangs of separation, he didn't have much stomach for feigning cheer Why was it that no one else seemed to understand how all of this worked? "What is it, precisely, that has you concerned?"