"Then why did you?" Rodolphus responded dryly, munching on a piece of lightly buttered toast. "Though I have to tell you, I'd have been much prouder of you if that had been the story."
Rodolphus eyed the pool of maple syrup that was quickly forming on his brother's plate, as the toast had already become completely saturated and was now leaking syrup out onto the dish. Sort of like a body after Snape's infamous Secumsemptra spell. Well, except for that it'd be leaking blood, not syrup. He made a face. Disgusting. The syrup, that was, not the blood - Rodolphus hadn't much of a taste for sweet things.
"You live in England," Rodolphus chided, "We live and breathe fat and batter." Having finished his bacon, one arm shot out across the table and snagged one of Rabastan's.