Iggy prickled at his brother's accusations and arrogance. Well, they were both made from the same Malfoy genes, and Iggy wasn't about to take the scolding sitting down. Which is why he was still standing. Yes. Not because he was nervous over what sitting without being invited to might bring.
"I wasn't proved wrong! He just wanted to tell me off, Draco! Because of my date. That's out of line, he had no idea who he was dealing with. Did you want me to let some stupid halfblood scold me? And of course you'd know your european witches-" He spat, alluding to Draco's previous dalliances (which although never as numerous as Iggy's, had been more prominent). "But I was talking about the witch I was with last night." He tilted his nose into the air, reminiscent of a younger Draco. "She was Persian."
Frustrated, Iggy had colored an angry pink, his voice rising like a child's. "You partied so much when you were my age! You broke up with Parvati and had a complete laugh - there was a reason the tabloids called you a playboy. Don't look down on me for having a little bit of fun, Merlin, what's up your ass?" There had been one tabloid, once, that had made mention of that, but their mother had quickly had it retracted. To be honest, Draco had usually held himself with great reserve. Furthur, Draco had worked and built a name for himself. Iggy rather fancied being a man of leisure.
"You didn't lash out? Last time Uncle Rodolphus visited you pretty much threw a tantrum." Their Renegade Uncle had popped in a few weeks before Draco's wedding, and Draco had smashed a few things afterward. At the memory, Iggy remembered what it was like when their family was just Narcissa, Draco and he in the Manor. Now, everything was different. Their mother seemed to do well, no longer feeling as if she had to be in charge, but Iggy didn't quite have it all settled just yet. He loved his sister-in-law, but the shifting power dynamics had made him agitated.