"Alright, thanks." Iggy smiled, eyeing his brother's fist. Unlike Draco, Iggy didn't feel the possessive streak to protect Narcissa. He was the baby and so loved his mother as all youngest sons did, with none of the guardian instinct of elder ones.
The house elf had brought Iggy a beer too and Iggy held out the bottle to his brother for a cheers. "Well, that's good. Last I heard you were about to let go of that idiotic accountant, did that all get figured out?"
"I know what rosemary foccacia is, Draco." Iggy frowned, annoyed. "I'm the one who taught you what it was. I was making a point. I guess your taste in bread and women are similar: sweet and fluffy." He smiled, pleased at his joke. "Actually, I would like that-" He gestured to the house elf who had already been bringing a plate over, well used to Iggy's tastes since childhood.
"So, um-" Iggy began to start his topic, but lost his bravado and feeling awkward, paused.