Draco was devastated. He consoled himself with the possibility that Luna might not be particularly well-versed in French cuisine, but still. Draco didn't cook for others often, but his results had never been declared a mystery meat. Especially on important occasions such as this.

"Well, I, ah, erm," he stuttered. "Actually, it's roast lamb with seasonings. And what do you mean by my family and snails? My father paid good money for that to be hushed up before he landed in Azkaban, so..." I've said too much, thought Draco. "Ah, anyway, I could probably whip up a snail dish for you next time, if you'd like." He watched Luna nervously, hoping she wouldn't prod the meat again.