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Doodles and Mutterings
An Exercise in Futility
Spider Rhythm (drabble, MoF) 
3rd-Feb-2014 10:23 pm
bambi potter
Crossposted on IJ for reasons.

Title: Spider Rhythm
Author: babygray_dam
Pairing: None
Warnings: Typos. No beta.
Disclaimer: This is just fanfiction, non-profit and just for fun.
Notes: This takes place pre-Hogwarts. The Tiger handheld for After Burner was released in 1988, if you need a specific-ish date for this. I was half-thinking of making this pre-slash, with Snape showing up as a tarantula. However, the research I did on spiders, and poisonous ones in particular, skeeved me out. So... enjoy a snippet of Harry's pre-Hogwarts life?
Word Count: 328
Summary: Harry and a spider share a moment under the stairs.


Harry pointed his torch at the spider diligently threading together a rudimentary web at the far corner of his cupboard. The spider stilled briefly as the light fell on its tiny, brown body before continuing its very important work. Harry watched the spider weave in silence, mesmerized by the twitching of its abdomen and its quick, thin legs.

Harry tucked his chin against his knees. He mimicked the spider’s weaving, tapping his fingers against his legs to the rhythm of the spider’s twitches. He could almost hear the song the spider must be singing as it worked. Silk slink silk slide bend over under slide through silk slink slink slink. Harry softly hummed a half-familiar tune, like one from a half-forgotten jingle or lullaby.

The spider weaved on, unbothered by Harry’s slow, almost wistful counter-melody.

Dust showered down on Harry as his cousin stomped down the stairs above. “WHERE IS MY GAME!?” Dudley bellowed, his voice barely muted by the wood and plaster cocooning Harry and his companion. Both he and the spider stopped, frozen by the loud interruption. Aunt Petunia’s high voice answered him, her words indistinguishable.

“MY GAME, MUM!” Dudley answered back. The spider flittered up into the shadows. “After burner!” Aunt Petunia began to reply only to be immediately cut off. “No, Mum! The one with the planes on it!”

Aunt Petunia’s voice was as thin as twittering birdsong, but it must have been enough for Dudley. He rumbled a reply and shuffled past Harry’s cupboard door, banging a heavy fist against it along the way.

Harry let out the breath he did not even realise he had been holding and glanced back up to the half-finished spider web. The spider was gone, but it would no doubt return eventually.

He pressed his cheek against his knees and tapped the spider rhythm against his leg. He tried to remember the melody he had been humming before being interrupted, but the moment was long gone now.
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