#tiny harry

surrounded by lights ✨

“You’ve been riding my rabbit,” he says.

Word count: 20,260

There it was again. The little spider that lived with Harry in the cupboard. Harry had called it Spike. Spike the Spider was a wonderful cupboard mate. Spike didn’t need much space. Spike didn’t make much noise - or any noise - now that Harry thought about it. Spike never stole Harry’s blanket or any of his other belongings, meager as they were. Spike the Spider was the perfect listener and Harry’s best friend. Why couldn’t Spike be Harry’s cousin? No! Let’s not go there. Harry knew that thinking about his relatives would only make him sad. And then frustrated. And then angry. And then - when he’d see his cousin or his aunt or his uncle or his cousin and his aunt at the same time or his cousin and — well, any other combination of his relatives — he would not be able to hide his anger any longer. He would shout and cry and hit anything that came close. Uncle Vernon called this “the boy’s temper tantrums”. “The boy” — as if Harry didn’t have a name. No, wishing that Spike the Spider was his cousin wouldn’t end well. Harry knew that. There would be punishment, even more than there already was. And if something weird happened again when Harry was angry, like Aunt Petunia’s vase exploding or the windows rattling in their frames, then the punishment would be really severe. “Severe” was another word that Harry had learned from his uncle. No, temper tantrums never helped. So Harry stretched out on his little mattress in the cupboard, put his arms behind his head and looked up at the stairs. He took a deep breath and let all the bad thoughts go when he breathed out. He smiled as he thought about his day in kindergarten. And while he looked at the way the light filter through the cracks in the stairs and the dust danced through the light in the air, he started humming the new song they had learned today. And Spike the Spider came closer to investigate. And everything was good.

A 5 second impression of a tiny First Year Potter.