She was trying to school her face so as not to reveal any outright opposition to the mention of dirty coppers or what they meant to her specifically when she caught Draco's eye; his eyes, she noticed, were always a dead give-away for when his body was unreadable. At the moment, his hands were relaxed as they cut at his roast and his shoulders were slumped as he leaned to the side to listen to Narcissa's quiet commentary. However, his eyes were not light and silvery and playful like how they had been when she first met him. When he had been smiling down on her with all of his godlike splendor. Instead, they were shadowy and haunting and cruel.