Title: Long lost treasure

Warnings: AU, Slash, OC, OOC, very slight D/s much later in the story, slight bondage, maybe MPreg – this will depend on how many of you would like to see that.

Summary: The general public of the wizarding folk believes Voldemort to have been defeated during his first rising by Albus Dumbledore. However, only select few know that this is a farce, for Harry Potter was prophesied to be the one to defeat The Darkest Lord of the century, and Harry Potter is still, very much alive. It is July 31, and Harry turns sixteen, reaching his full magical potential a year too early. His magic is seeking its other half, in order to ground its master. Harry's mate? A long forgotten race of dragon-kin.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, but Raghnall is all mine!

Chapter 1

He dreamt of green. No, it was emerald. The brightest yet darkest emerald he had ever seen. The colour was full of magic. It was alive and it was reaching out to him. He could feel the magic in it, breathtaking and beautiful, warm and powerful, as it stretched itself, in attempt to reach him. He felt curiosity well up in him, as the tears were welling up in those emerald green eyes.

He blinked. Eyes. He was looking into the eyes of a young male, whose magnificent eyes were looking right at him, and yet they were blind with pain. Such pain, that he could almost hear the silent screams of anguish and he felt his heart reach out to the mesmerizing creature before him. And as he felt the need to help, the need to protect and defend, grow inside of him like a tide; he felt the string of emerald magic connect with him.

In the all-encompassing darkness something moved. A mighty roar resonated through the darkness.

And the earth trembled as Raghnall woke from his slumber.

Harry woke up with a groan escaping his parched lips, and tried to move his hand to shield his face from the glare of the morning sun, only to wince and groan again as he felt the stabbing pain that shot through him like lightning upon the movement. His whole body hurt so much that he wondered for a second if he might have been tortured the day before, but that was silly, for he had been in his room the whole day, but neither could he remember any dreams or nightmares that could somehow be the cause of this pain.

Doing his best to ignore the aching of his bones and the soreness of his muscles, Harry struggled to get up from the bed. As he moved away from the sunlight fighting its way through the gap between the curtains, he opened his eyes and looked at the clock by his bedside and frowned. It was 10 am and, and he couldn't help but wonder why the Dursley's haven't woke him up still. Then he remembered his relatives telling him the day before that they were leaving for the week to visit Aunt Marge.

It was July the thirty first and he was sixteen as of today, and Harry tried to remember if he had received any owls at midnight, as he had since he was eleven, but his mind was blurry, his thoughts scattered, and all he could remember from the top of his head was the memory of unbearable pain. However, if there had been any owls, they would have been still outside of his window, but there seemed to be none now, and all was eerily quiet. In fact, the house was completely silent, and neither was there any sounds coming from the street, no cars driving down the Private Drive, no children running, screaming and laughing. Harry felt a shiver run down his back and the hairs on his neck stand up. His breathing became laboured and suddenly he remembered, flashes of memories of a dark, hot and dry place, with something moving in the darkness. And the roar. Suddenly Harry snapped from his thoughts as he heard the phone ring downstairs.

Moving as quickly as he could, the pain still sharp in his body, Harry went to get the phone, wondering who it could be, and feeling thankful for the shrill sound breaking the unnerving silence.

"Hello?" Harry answered.

"Harry? Are you all right? What happened?" the high-pitched and worried voice of his best friend Hermione making him almost relax.

"Hermione? I'm fine, what do you mean what happened? Is something wrong?" Harry started feeling the uneasiness creep up on him again. There was just something about this morning that didn't sit well with him.

"Harry, we have been trying to reach you all morning. Professor Dumbledore has been trying to get through the wards without any success. What is going on Harry? Are you and the Dursley's all right?" Hermione's voice was getting more agitated with every word.

"Calm down, Hermione. I am fine, the Dursley's were supposed to leave for Aunt Marge's today and I just woke up. And what do you mean Professor Dumbledore can't get through the wards?"

"What I mean, Harry James Potter, is that professor Dumbledore is standing outside the wards of Private Drive 4 right now, and he can't get in!", Hermione's voice was shrill in its frustration and rising panic.

"I'll call you back," and Harry, ignoring the girls screaming, put down the phone.

With his muscles screaming at him in miserable protest, Harry, moved towards the front door, and was blinded by the glare of the sun as he opened it. Blinking the tears away, Harry squinted at the worried looking professor Dumbledore standing at the edge of the garden. He saw him mouth words at him, but he couldn't hear a single sound. Even the wind that caressed his face was silent. Feeling another uneasy shiver racking his body, Harry moved towards Dumbledore.

Stopping in front of the old headmaster, Harry noticed that the man's face was the very definition of worry. With his eyebrows tightly drown in a frown, he was looking him over from top to toe, and there was a look in his eye, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

Frowning, Harry asked, "Professor Dumbledore?"

The man replied, for he could see his lips moving, but yet, he could hear no sound coming out.

"Professor, I cannot hear you…" Harry's agitation was rising to hysterical proportions now. Had he gone deaf, but no, that could not be, he heard the phone ring and he heard Hermione talk to him, but then why could he not hear anything else?

He saw Dumbledore motioning him to come closer, and so he moved closer, until the man finally grasped his arm and pulled at him still closer.

"Harry, can you hear me now, my boy?", and finally sound rushed to his ears and Harry felt dizzy with relief. He could hear again! The sweet movement and of the tree's leaves moving against each other as the wind blew past, the sound of children's laughter and the sound of life.

"Professor, oh Merlin, I thought I was going deaf for a moment there. What is going on? Hermione called and said something about you not being able to enter through the wards? And what was it with the world just going silent?"

"Harry, are you feeling all right? You don't look very well my boy, has something happened?" Dumbledore was giving him that look again, that look that said that something was very wrong.

"Well, my whole body hurts something terrible, and I obviously couldn't hear any sound coming from beyond the house, but other than that, I'm OK. Professor, why couldn't you enter the house?"

The headmaster stared at him, silent for a moment, a contemplating look on his face, and then he gave a heavy sigh.

"Harry, I think it would be best to have this conversation back at Hogwarts, why don't you pack your things and we can then leave at once," the headmaster's voice was quiet and cautious.

"Um, sure, just give me a moment," as he went into the house, Harry couldn't help but look back to see professor Dumbledore still standing there, just beyond the garden, watching him. Feeling worried again, Harry went to pack. This was the weirdest day of his life, and he had a feeling that it was just going to get worse.

AN: Well, there you go, first chapter all done! Tell me what you think! xD

Oh, and in the beginning the chapters will be of about this length, but as the plot develops, so will the length of each chapter get longer.