Harry awoke to two voices arguing and a hand shaking his shoulder.
"Five more minutes, Draco…" he grumbled and turned around to bury himself in the silky sheets.
Wait… silky sheets? His bed had cotton sheets. And Draco was back in England while he was – or should be – in New York.
He startled awake and sat upright, effectively cutting off the voices.
Harry was in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room with two unfamiliar faces.
Well, not that unfamiliar.
Harry's worry grew as he recognized Tony Stark.
Tony fucking Stark.
Harry groaned.

"Please tell me I didn't get drunk off my ass and slept with you?" he blurted and then frowned. "I don't have the usual headache though…"

Mr. Stark spluttered.

"No, we did not have sex. In fact, I was about to ask you who you were and what you are doing in my bed."

"You mean… fuck. You have no idea how I got here? According to my non-existent headache I wasn't drunk enough to blackout, but my memory is fuzzy…"

His gaze fell onto the high-tech alarm clock on the bedside table and his eyes widened in shock.

"I'm missing several days! What the…"

He quickly pulled himself together, there was no time to panic. He turned to the other occupants of the room he had ignored during his little freak out.

"Well, I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Harry Potter and I don't know how I got here. Actually, I am missing four days. You are, obviously, Tony Stark, which is just my luck, and I guess you have to be Virginia Potts, the CEO, right?"

"That's right" Mr. Stark said, "What do you mean, you're missing four days? You don't even know what happened here?"

"Where is 'here'? Am I even still in New York?"

At both Mr. Stark's and Ms. Potts' nods Harry let out a breath of relief.

"At least something."

Then realization dawned on him and his head snapped up again.

"I'm in Stark Tower?!"

Harry cursed his luck and buried his head in his hands. Only him!

"And what happened here that you mentioned it basically first thing?" he inquired, trying to figure out if it had anything to do with his memory loss.

"Uhm, well… "

Only then did Harry notice how uncomfortable Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts suddenly seemed to be.

The redhead spoke in Mr. Stark's place: "Maybe you want to change first? It's a rather lengthy conversation."

"Change?"

Harry looked down on his chest – his bare chest – and blushed. He quickly gathered the sheets around his body again, which must have fallen away when he stopped holding them up. He let out a breath of relief when he felt that he wore something on his lower body that was hidden beneath the blanket.

"Do you, uhm, maybe have some clothes I could borrow?"

Mr. Stark looked him up and down critically for a moment and then nodded.

"You seem to be about my size, if a bit shorter. Some of my clothes should fit you. The door over there leads to a bathroom, take a shower, maybe get a clearer head. I'm going to leave some clothes on the bed for you."

Harry nodded and smiled at the man in silent gratitude. As soon as Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts left the room Harry pulled aside the sheets and tried to stand up. Tried being the key word here because the second he moved a stinging pain shot up his backside.
Harry paled.

"Fuck."

He ignored the pain and hurried into the bathroom where he stood in front of the mirror. What he saw made his stomach drop.
His chest and shoulders were covered in hickeys and bitemarks and there were hand-shaped bruises on his hips. His lower body was clad in skin-tight black leggings and a skirt-like piece made of green chiffon. Around his neck –
Harry gulped and tears started to pool in his eyes. Around his neck he wore a silver collar studded with emerald-green crystals.
Harry knew what that meant. He closed his eyes and willed the tears away. There was time for that later.
When he moved to strip the pain made itself known again and his hand instinctively flicked to get his wand out of his arm holster. Only then did he realize – he did not wear his holster. And his wand was nowhere to be seen. Harry frowned in confusion. Then why did he feel the familiar presence of his wand? He took a deep breath. He wasn't the master of the Elder Wand for nothing. He concentrated on the wands unique signature and willed it to come to him.

"Ow!"

A burning sensation on his right wrist broke his concentration and he opened his eyes.
A glamour fell away and Harry could see a tattoo of the Deathly Hallows appearing on his right inner wrist.

"What the hell?" he mumbled in awe. He experimentally flicked his hand with a muttered 'Wingardium Leviosa' in the direction of the soap. It began to float in front of his face.

"If the wand has merged with me, what about the cloak and the stone?"

The second he thought of the cloak his image in the mirror flickered and then vanished completely.

"Neat."

He refrained from trying the stone.

With magic at his disposal again the pain in his ass was quickly dealt with and after a short shower followed by a simple drying charm he went back into the bedroom. Just like Tony said there were some clothes on the bed, waiting for him.
Harry changed into the comfy sweatpants, the t-shirt and the sweat jacket before getting comfortable on the bed. He sat with his legs crossed and nervously fingered the collar that was almost completely hidden underneath the jacket.
Harry was now 99% sure his memory loss had a magical reason.
With a determined look at his new tattoo he sank into a deep meditation. He had to find out what happened to him.