Author's Note: I'm so sorry for taking so long with this installment of Mr. and Mr. Malfoy. I'm not going to lie; I was procrastinating and reading other fan fiction works. I also picked up George R. R. Martin's A Storm of Swords again after tossing it away months ago in frustration. I finished it and I am now slowly reading through A Feast for Crows. Cheer for me! Mr. Martin's books are certainly a challenge to get through at times.

I would like to thank my role model, WyrdSmith, for her encouraging words. I finished this chapter in just under two hours because of her inspirational words. I think this chapter is longer than the others; length doesn't really matter to me for this story. This story is basically a Slice of Life fic with added drama and such; at least I believe it would. Look up the term on TV Tropes for an explanation and examples.

Well, anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Romi Saoirse (Jaz)


Busted!


Four months later.

"What the fuck did you say?"

Record scratch. Silence.

"You want a fight?!"

Drunken mutters of excitement. Sounds of knuckles cracking.

"Bring it on!"

All hell breaks loose.

What followed that invitation would go down in Wizarding History as the worst bar fight since Salazar Slytherin convinced Helga Hufflepuff to down a whole bottle of fire whiskey.

x-x-x-x

Three hours after the bar fight.

Location: Ministry of Magic of the United Kingdom, Second Level, Department of Magical Law Enforcement – Auror Office.

Situations like these Harry seemed to find himself in a lot lately. It was noisy, people running to a fro, the sounds of papers rustling grated on his nerves. Arguing, crying, general drama, confusion, and overall chaos happened around him. Still Harry sat; this had been going on since the Aurors descended upon the fighting drunkards of the Dragon's Flame, the now partially destroyed pub where the madness happened.

Harry also looked like shit. His glasses were gone, not that he needed them with the bi-weekly eye correction potion he used. His right eye was blacked and swollen but not completely shut. Small cuts and bruises littered his frame. His shirt was missing, all but the left sleeve – what the fuck? Harry tried to remember what happened to his shirt but couldn't. He knew it somehow involved fire which would explain the nasty looking bruise on his right shoulder.

His mouth ached, someone had punched or elbowed him hard enough that his teeth rattled and he bit his tongue. He constantly swallowed the metallic liquid that swelled in his mouth despite his busted lip dripping the crimson fluid onto his bare chest.

Draco was going to kill him.

Harry snorted at that thought, he and Draco weren't exactly in the best places right now because – no. He didn't want to think of that right now. Emotions swirled in his belly that his alcohol saturated mind could not identify at present. He slumped over in the uncomfortable wooden chair he sat on, his chin so far in his chest he could feel his own heartbeat. This position also brought to light the danger of almost biting one's tongue off.

He grunted, severely uncomfortable in this Merlin be damned chair! His shoulders ached from holding the same awkward position of having his hands held behind his back. Cuffs – magic suppression cuffs dug into his wrists so hard that he'd lost feeling in his pinky and ring fingers on both hands. The boys skulking around downstairs in R&D were finally getting creative.

"Potter, Harry."

The brunet lifted his battered face to the Auror whom called his name. The man was taller than Harry by at least three inches which was a feat in itself. After proper nutrient potions and real meal Harry sprung up to a nice height of 6'1''. He still had a lithe, lightly muscled frame.

This Auror on the other hand was built like a powerhouse with thick, corded muscles and broad shoulders that were clearly on display because the signature Auror robes were not in sight. He had dark brown hair that blurred the lines between brown and black. His eyes though were a different story; they were a tawny color that one usually associated with werewolves.

Creepy.

Acid green eyes cut into the burly man, he arched a brow. The Auror, to his credit, just barely contained the urge to flinch away and against his better judgment he approached the irate savior of the Wizarding World and pulled him out of the chair he occupied.

Harry grunted, his head swimming, just how much had he drank?

"Where?" he asked the male holding him up by his upper arm.

Before the unnamed Auror could reply he was cut off by a familiar voice.

"Harry James Potter!"

The two men turned to see a murderous, red-faced Draco Malfoy striding down the hall toward them with a plain looking wizard trailing behind him, the Malfoy family lawyer. Oh bollocks.

Harry's head snapped back to look at the Auror still gripping his arm. His eyes pleading with the other man to help out somehow. Throw him in a cell; send him to Azkaban, anything. Shit, give him the Kiss! Just don't let Draco get a hold of him. The other man only quirked an eyebrow before he carefully blanked his face and held his ground.

Harry's mouth dropped open and his eyes widened in horror. Traitor! His mind screamed over and over.

"Circe, Harry, what the fuck happened!" Draco was suddenly in his face and his cool hands moving over his heated skin. He groaned in pain and surprise when the blond's hand ran over his ribs on the right side. He hadn't been aware he was injured on that side.

Harry shifted away from his fiancé's wandering hands, turning his face away to glare at the floor. He didn't need to be looking at Draco to see the flash of hurt streak across the other's face.

"Who are you?" Draco sneered at the man holding onto Harry; it wasn't disrespectful but definitely dancing on the line.

"Name's Fontaine." The taller male answered. "Leonardo Fontaine, now, if you would kindly follow me to my office." He gestured toward his office which was just in the direction Draco had stormed from.

Draco didn't move though which made Harry turn his head to stare questioningly at his fiancé. What he saw made him blink. The blond was just staring at the newly named Leonardo Fontaine, why was that?

"You…look familiar, do I know you from somewhere?" he asked with a calculating look on his face. No doubt running through his mental rolodex of friends, family, and acquaintances.

Auror Fontaine only gave a small smirk. "I believe we can discuss this matter further in the privacy of my office." He pulled Harry down the hall. "If you would follow me, Heir-Lord Malfoy."

Draco gaped, not expecting the a commoner to get his true title correct. His father was very much still the Lord of the Malfoy family but because of his shady loyalties and his brief stints in Azkaban many assumed he'd been stripped of his title. Many believed Draco to be the new Lord; he never dissuaded the general public from thinking so because it just wasn't their business.

Besides there would sure to be some sort of media fiasco if it came out that Lucius was still acting Lord. Lucius had all but gracefully bowed out of the limelight, enjoying his days in their family's beach house somewhere near Greece.

Once the trio plus the nameless Malfoy family lawyer were ensconced in Auror Fontaine's office did the male in question finally speak.

"My name is Leonardo Fontaine, formally known as Leo Nott before I was disowned by the Nott family and adopted, respectively. I believe Heir-Lord Malfoy is friends with my younger brother Theodore."

Harry and Draco, appearances be damned, gaped at Leonardo.


To be continued..