Inside Out

Pairing: Tom/Harry

Rating: PG-13 (for now)

Warnings: This story contains SLASH, meaning male/male love. Don't read it, if you're offended by that.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, settings etc. They all belong to J.K. Rowling. Except for the characters that I invent myself. And I'm not trying to make any money with this story either.

Author's note: Geez, I finally decided to update my first story here! Think I'm feeling more nervous than excited, haha. I had the ideas for this story already 3 years ago, when I read HP 6, but now after reading the last volume I was actually able to write it. I'm not a native English speaker, so please don't be too hard on grammar or spelling mistakes, I'm trying to do my best!

Please review! It's a great motivation for me to carry on, if I know that people like the story and bear with the characters just as much as I do, haha!

But for now: Enjoy!

PS/T/H/ indicates start of a new scene

„Ouch!"

Harry swore under his breath, grimacing at the dull pain of his head and crouched down. Shifting slightly, he tried to hide himself behind a rock. His eyes followed the two figures that were now passing the spot where he had been standing seconds ago, but they were obviously unaware of Harry's presence.

The young wizard remained motionless as he watched the two disappear in the distance.

Exhaling loudly, Harry slowly left his hiding position and rubbed over the back of his throbbing head, silently cursing the tree branch.

A heavy sensation in his stomach that resulted from the sudden wave of guilt made the Gryffindor bite his lower lip.

It wasn't like he had tried to avoid Hermione and Ron…

He just didn't feel like he would be able to endure anymore sympathetic shoulder pats, condolence speeches or curious questions, of what he was doing, when he was doing it, where and with whom.

From no one. Not even his best friends.

Harry stepped out from between the trees, checking once more to see if there was somebody else looking for him, which didn't seem too unlikely, considering that Scrimgeour had managed to cause quite the fuss by following him earlier.

The Minister of Magic and the Chosen One!

If it had not been for Dumbledore's funeral, Harry thought gloomily, half the school would have been stuck to their heels.

Sometimes he was just so sick of all the attention.

Finally alone the young wizard walked along the lake in silence. It was probably the first moment since… Harry felt that it was just as difficult to admit Dumbledore's death as it had been for him to do so with Sirius's.

Although the fact that his headmaster wasn't alive anymore seemed in some way too surreal to actually be true. From all the people Harry knew, Dumbledore was the last person he thought would simply die like this. It was as if he had had the feeling that the old wizard was immortal, which was ridiculous of course, but… he still couldn't help the feeling that it had struck him impossible to believe that Dumbledore was really gone… forever.

Harry buried his hands in the pockets of his trousers and sighed loudly.

Absentmindedly, he let his gaze wander over the peaceful scenery. His eyes came to a sudden halt at the form of a person and his attention snapped back into focus.

Squinting into the distance, Harry realized that there was indeed somebody lying at the bank of the lake, hardly 50 feet away from him. Slowly, he inched closer, his eyes narrowing in concentration. The figure started to move and seemed to prop himself up – Harry was sure by now that it had to be a boy or man – up on the elbows.

It was then that proper light fell upon the person, as the sun broke through the clouds and the Gryffindor halted as his eyes widened gradually, studying the features of the person's face, who was now looking back at him.

White, almost translucent skin wrapped around a bony jaw and cheekbones, only taking a different color under the eyes, were it drew dark rings. Harry's breath caught, as he thought he had seen a red flicker in those dark eyes, but the moment was too short to really tell and the color had been far too pale.

The short illusion had still caused the young Gryffindor to reach for his wand, his fingers tightening around it, while he continued to stare at the person in front of him that looked so confusingly like a mix between Voldemort and Tom Riddle.

The lips were thin and colorless, the robe looked so much like Voldemort's but it seemed too big and where the Dark Lord had had only nostrils, was a normal nose. Also the fact that Voldemort was bald… the man on the ground had – even if very short – black hair.

Harry felt the urge to go closer, to assure himself whether it was indeed Voldemort or not, to see if the light or his eyes were fooling him, but his feet just would not move.

And his scar did not hurt. Not-

"Harry James Potter!"

Harry nearly jumped from his skin, from the closeness of the loud voice and the simultaneous prickling of his scar. Whirling around, his arm shot up and he pointed his wand at…

"Where in-"

But his friends stopped dead in their tracks, their eyes now fixed upon Harry's wand. They stared.

"What are you doing?" Hermione finally breathed, after seconds of silence.

That seemed to wake Harry from his stupor and he withdrew his wand slowly, an apologetic expression on his face. For a moment he had almost forgotten what it was that Hermione and Ron had interrupted him in.

Turning immediately back to…

But the person was gone and Harry felt his heart sink in disappointment and confusion.

"I- I just thought, I saw…" He muttered to himself, but trailed off.

"Saw what?" Hermione and Ron were now by his side, following his gaze and frowning a little, as they were not able to make out anything interesting or unsettling that could have caused Harry's reaction.

"Harry?" Hermione eyed him worriedly. "Are you quite sure you saw-"

The young wizard shook his head in resignation.

"Nevermind."

T/H/

The street lights at Privet Drive seemed unnaturally gloomy, as black clouds covered the sky and thunder in the distance erupted the nocturnal silence, followed by faint lightening.

It was only a question of time before rain was going to pour down onto roofs and pavement.

Amidst the forebodings of a great weather front was a person walking along the deserted street of Privet Drive in brisk strides. His long black cloak flying behind him, it seemed like a wonder that the hood that covered his face was not swept off.

He was casting a long shadow behind himself when passing a light and then again appeared to vanish into the darkness as he reached a not so well lit spot.

Bright lightening flashed along the horizon, the storm drawing nearer and that was when the cloaked person – a wizard, considering his attire – came to an abrupt halt.

In front of Nr. 4 Privet Drive.

Raising his head ever so slightly, the eyes hidden beneath the hood and strands of hair just as dark, as everything else about the person were fixed on the only window in the house with light behind it.

A small smile flashed over the strangers face and he tilted his head to the side, watching a shadow pass the window that surely belonged to the person living in that very room.

"Found you."