As Draco berated him, a faint angry flush took to Iggy’s cheeks. If there was one thing he shared with his brother, is that both Malfoys, after years of being under their Father’s thumb, hated being dominated. Unfortunately for Ignatius, his brother was the new head of the family, and that was something he hadn’t yet been able to come to terms with.
“The manager was a real prick, you should have heard how he disrespected me. I’m a Malfoy and he thought he could get away with that?”
He flinched slightly as his brother talked with such force. The younger man felt quite vulnerable indeed, standing awkwardly in the dining hall as Draco held court. Rolling his eyes, Iggy picked up the salt shaker from the table and spun it around his fingers. “Well, it bought me a nice night with some firewhiskey and a particularly hot witch from Persia.” He hadn’t learned his lesson- “And it’s not that I thought this conversation wouldn’t happen – it’s just that I didn’t realise I was such a fuck up in your eyes.”
Iggy’s tone was angry, “It’s not like you never did shit like this, Draco. Relax.”