Before anyone starts, I know I shouldn't be starting a new story when I still have some left unfinished but this is just how my mind works. I got a bit bored with my previous works so I needed something new. I still love Unicorn Prince and I fully intend to finish it, but I'm just not interested in writing it right now. Maybe in a few months I can pick up where I left off, but for now, please enjoy this new story.

Warning: Please note that Draco will be very...off...in the first chapters of this story. I did this intentionally and hopefully you will understand why and forgive me when reading it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, (he belongs to Draco Malfoy and he belongs to JK Rowling)


The Most Tempermental Master

Chapter 1: Lost and Found

Messy black bangs fell into irritated green eyes, Harry tossed his head back in distraction, trying to remove the stubborn strands from blocking his line of sight.

He hated being locked up in this room all day, but it was important and there was no going around it. The final battle had finally come and gone and now it was time for the wizarding world to pick up the pieces and try to fit them back together.

With the ministry in shambles, someone had to step up and take responsibility in rebuilding their world. Professor McGonagall had done a fine job in pulling the Order together after Dumbledore's Sacrifice and had wasted no time in dishing out orders.

Harry's orders had been to investigate any and all Magical Artifacts found within the Dark Lords numerous Dark Holdings. It was an interesting assignment, definitely, and could be rather dangerous if not handled carefully.

But as much as he despised being cramped into the crowded study and as dangerous as it was turning out to be (he was knee deep in Dark Magic Artifacts after all) it was also just as intriguing...in a disturbing I-can't-bring-myself-to-look-away type of disturbing

Harry's most interesting (and alarming) artifacts were found in a Dark Holding Snape referred to as 'The Labs'. While it wasn't a very original name to any stretch of the imagination, the way Snape said it always gave Harry the creeps.

He'd only been to 'The Labs' a handful of times and wasn't in a hurry to get back there, though he did find the artifacts recovered from them fascinating. Among these artifacts were a multitude of Tomes filled with Dark Spells, and scrolls covered in ancient rituals. Journals from one person or another made another stack in the 'interestingly creepy' section of Harry's work place. Above them, lined up carefully on the a shelf, were countless objects that Harry had deemed 'creepy but pointless' or in simpler Ron-friendly terms 'Safe'

Harry had just received another shipment of items from the Labs and was just beginning to line them up on the tables, carefully levitating them from the magically protected shipping crates they'd been packed in.

This was the third shipment from the Labs this week and he was beginning to wonder if that horribly freaky place would ever run out of new things for him to look over. Not that he minded, it gave him something to do while Hogwarts was being rebuilt and the Ministry resorted.

Hopefully Hogwarts would be open again in the next few weeks and he'd be able to slip back into a 'normal' routine once more.

But did Harry even want to go back to Hogwarts? The thing was, nothing had been normal, even there, it hadn't been for months. Not since...not since Malfoy had vanished. And while Harry loved Hogwarts-it was his home- it just wasn't the same without the blond brat.

Some small part of him had expected to find Malfoy among the death eaters being rounded up, or maybe in the holding cells in The Labs. But there still wasn't any sign of the other boy and many had given up on him months ago. And now even his own parents were starting to loose hope, and while Harry didn't want to simply give up, there wasn't anything he could really do. He hadn't taken any of his things with him, so he hadn't run away. There was no ransom note; no dead body, no nothing. Malfoy was just gone.

Harry clenched his eyes shut and shook his head again, shaggy black hair whipping around him at the harsh motion. No no no! He couldn't think about that, it wasn't any of his concern...he had work to do.

Opening his eyes Harry turned his focus on the artifacts spread over the tables in front of him, taking out his wand and holding it aloft.

The first item was a small potted plant. It's leaves appeared golden in the dim light of the examining room and it had a handful of tiny purple buds. Harry maneuvered the leaves and petals aside with the tip of his wand (careful not to touch it with his hands since there was no telling what might happen.

Several dozen items, and three crates later Harry was steeped in Dark Magic residue- a light film of silver dust that was left behind when dark spells and charms were dissolved from objects that had held them for at least a decade...if not longer. He let out an impressive number of small sneezes when someone opened the door and disturbed the residue, sending it spiraling up into Harry's face.

Once he could breath again, Harry turned his glare to the person who'd just walked in. "Watcher Harry." Tonks grinned at him sheepishly from over yet another crate.

Harry groaned and rolled his eyes, "Well set it down." He said, motioning to the other three crates he'd only just finished looking through.

"This is the last of them today, Harry, I promise." The older witch assured him, to which he nodded his thanks, already levitating the items from the new crate. Tonk's lips twitched in amusement, 'I'll leave you to it then, Harry." she sang before retreating.

Not that Harry noticed, he was too busy studying the most intriguing artifact of the day. It was a thin, silver dragon armlet. It had an elegant sweep of wings and the most intricate detailed workmanship Harry had ever seen. Each separate scale had been carved with utmost care, each claw delicately curved, the teeth carefully outlined in it's handsome, sharp face. It's twin horns arched back, following the proud curve of it's neck to come to needle point sharpness at their tips.

All in all, the piece was breathtaking.

Harry puffed annoyingly up at his bangs as they flopped into his eyes again, but didn't let that distract him. He reached out to bring it in for closer inspection, and in doing so made his first major mistake in dealing with unknown magical objects; specifically when dealing with Dark Artifacts...he touched the band.

The moment Harry's fingers made contact with the smooth metal a pulse of hot magic shot through his fingers and up his arm, leaving them tingling in it's wake. Only seconds later did Harry see what the magic had done.

The small silver dragon blinked it's eyes open and before scrambling up Harry's bare arm. Tiny, pin like claws dug into his flesh, eliciting a hiss of agitation from the young man before it's serpent like body wrapped firmly around his upper arm, it's long elegant wings curved down and under and it's tiny pointed face settled on his shoulder, it's mouth barely open in what Harry swore could only be a smug grin.

Another pulse of hot magic escaped the object, this time sinking into his skin in all the places the tiny menace was touching him.

Gasping in shock, Harry reached up to try to forcefully remove the unwanted treasure. He stumbled backwards and tripped over the leg of a chair, he clenched his eyes shut and bracing himself for the impact. He was then surprised when, instead of meeting with the harsh unforgiving floor he found himself cushioned by a strong warm body and supported by a muscular pair of arms.

Harry's breath caught in his throat, but he ignored it and pulled out of the embrace. Turning to thank his rescuer he was not at all prepared for the sight that met his eyes.

"Malfoy!" Harry gasped, stumbling back into his table of artifacts out of surprise.

The blond didn't say anything, just stared at him out of eyes as cold and hard as diamonds.

A thousand questions raced through Harry's head, but when he finally regained control of his tongue all he managed to stumble out was: "What are you doing here? And what are you wearing?"

A single pale eyebrow arched towards ever perfect hair, "I do believe you summoned me Master." A glance down, "And I believe I am wearing clothes." Yeah, clothes…sure. All Malfoy was currently wearing was a small surrong like item tied off to one side and barely covering…anything. Around his neck was a silver band inscribed with numerous runes, none of which Harry recognized. And around his wrists were two bands of silver shaped identically like the one that had attached itself to Harry's person just moments before.

It took a moment longer of gaping like a goldfish before Malfoy's words actually sank in.

"Master?!" Harry squawked, "Now wait a minute…summoned? I didn't summon you, and I'm not your master."

"Our bond would say otherwise." Malfoy disagreed, his slow drawl was just as annoying as Harry remembered…if not more so.

"Bond? What bond?" Harry returned, slightly hysterical, "We don't have a bond."

Malfoy glided closer, and Harry desperately wanted to retreat, but there was already a table at his back so it wasn't going to be happening. A long slender finger glided up Harry's bare arm, steel grey eyes followed it's trail up to the intricate dragon wrapped around Harry's bicep. "This is the source of our bond, Oh disbelieving One, and it will not fade until your last wish has been granted." he said, tapping lightly on the object.

"Wish?" Harry scoffed, knocking Malfoy's hand away, and pressing further into the table digging into his back. "What are you on about Malfoy? And where have you been the last six months?"

With a snap of his fingers Malfoy was holding three small silver rings, "Granting wishes is what Genies do, Master. With each wish you make you must surrender one ring." Malfoy was no longer holding said rings. Somehow in the moment it took Harry to blink, Malfoy had slipped the three rings onto Harry's right hand and without once touching him.

Magic.

Harry closed his gaping mouth and snapped his eyes up to glare at Malfoy, "This isn't funny Malfoy. Do your parents even know your alright? They've been frantic since you disappeared."

When Malfoy didn't respond to his question's Harry sighed and rubbed lightly at the headache forming between his eyes. "Alright Malfoy, just sit here and I'll go fire call someone to pick you up." He firmly pushed Malfoy into a nearby chair and left the room.

He hadn't made it more then half a dozen steps before he noticed his new shadow. Spinning around angrily he crossed his arms over his chest, trying his hardest not to stare at the one on display before him. "I told you to stay put, Malfoy. Do you have problems hearing?" Selective hearing was Harry's current guess.

"I must remain within hearing distance of your voice, My Most Temperamental Master."

"Stop calling me that Malfoy!" Harry snapped, drawing his wand on the delirious blond. "I'm not your 'Master' and you are not a bloody Genie." He couldn't believe he was having this conversation, and with Malfoy of all people. And why was he talking like that? No one talked like that. He felt like he'd falling into a messed up retelling of 'Arabian Nights'. And where was Malfoy keeping his wand? Wait, he really didn't want to know that answer, forget he even thought it.

"You are upset." Malfoy observed, reaching out to brace Harry with hand on his shoulder.

"Don't touch me." Harry growled, shaking off the blonds' helping hand, "And of course I'm upset. There's something seriously wrong here and you are at the bottom of it-like usual."

That pale eyebrow arched once more, "I am sure I do not know what you mean."

"Enough, Malfoy. This isn't a game. Where have you been these last few months? What have you been doing, and why are you pretending you're a Genie, of all things."

"I've been asleep, waiting to be summoned by my Master in order to grant three of his wishes." The blond answered in a monotone voice, "And I do not pretend, Master. I am what I am."

"No your not!" Harry yelled, stamping his foot like a spoiled two year old, "You're Draco Malfoy, not a Genie." Harry stopped, gasping for air and glaring at his school rival for long moments, "This has to be some sort of spell. We'll figure this out and you'll be back to normal in no time. Just…just go back to the room, sit down and wait for me. I won't be long."

Harry turned to continue walking, a new destination in mind, but instead of Malfoy turning around and heading back to the room to wait (like Harry had instructed), he trailed behind Harry like a puppy.

Gritting his teeth again, Harry turned to face the infuriating blond, "What," He snapped, "Are you doing?"

"I told you before, Master, I cannot be out of hearing range of your voice."

Harry took a deep calming breath, "And why not?" He demanded, not at all pleased with this arrangement-this was getting ridiculous.

"It is a rule." The blond said with a shrug of his broad shoulders.

"And who made this rule?"

"No one made the rules, they just are."

Harry's eyes narrowed, "There are more then one?" Oh joy.

A simple nod was his answer.

Spinning on his heel once more, Harry descended the stairs in the manor and headed for the library, where he was sure to find Hermione locked away. He paused briefly on the bottom step and turned around.

Malfoy was trailing behind him, his silvery eyes sweeping from side to side, taking in the almost gloomy atmosphere of the building. The hallways were dimly lit, candles lining the walls, illuminating a disgusting display of creature heads set as décor.

"Well, if you're going to be tagging along, we should probably find you something to wear."

The blond blinked, "This is not pleasing to you?" was his outrageous question. Harry could only gape at his audacity.

"Of course it's not pleasing to me." His voice came out a bit more breathy then he would have liked and he quickly cleared his throat before continuing, "And I'd rather not give Hermione a heart attack when you show up in nothing but a flimsy piece of cloth."

Harry must have blinked, because the next thing he knew, Malfoy was dressed. But it was nothing like what Harry was accustomed to seeing on him. Malfoy was wearing muggle clothing. Sure, it looked expensive (and rather form fitting), but it was still muggle.

Closing his eyes again, he counted to ten before turning and continuing on. He wasn't going to complain about clothes, what Malfoy was wearing now may not be 'Malfoy Appropriate' but at least he was wearing something.


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