Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of this work of fiction and no profit, monetary or otherwise, is being made through the writing of this.
A/N: A quadruple drabble Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's Assignment #8, Divination, Task 2: Tarot Cards; Role Reversal AU
Dudley stared at the spider dangling from the web above his head. He blew out a breath and the spider scrambled to maintain its hold on the thin line of webbing that it was hanging from as the thread swung back and forth. He chuckled quietly as the spider crawled up the thread of webbing and back onto the web proper, eyes gleaming with perverse delight at the fear evident in the spider as it scrambled to escape the shifting air.
He listened, longing in his heart, to the sounds of his cousin, Harry's, birthday party taking place in the living room. He, as per usual, had been relegated to his cupboard under the stairs for the duration of the festivities.
He'd been rude to Harry after his cousin had done something extra freaky and his mother had caught him at it, which is why he found himself not just lying on his thin mattress in the cupboard room, but locked in it as well and cautioned not to make a peep, or else.
He shivered though it was not cold. It was hot and stuffy, and Dudley had to hold his breath for a second as panic threatened to take hold. He would not give his mother and his freak of a cousin the satisfaction of having another panic attack when he felt the walls closing in on him.
He'd grown used to the dark in the years since his father had left. Had learned to look for the shimmer of light that slanted into his cramped room at the bottom and top of the door that held him captive; kept him from being a nuisance and a bother.
He let his breath out in a gust of air that shook the spider's web and felt a smug satisfaction when the spider faltered in its webbing, taking drunken steps not to lose its footing. He closed his eyes and pretended that his father had not left; that it was Harry lying on the dusty mattress in the cupboard under the stairs; Harry starving down to skin and bones; Harry banished to the darkness and the spiders and the terrible, all-encompassing loneliness.
"I hate you, Harry Potter," Dudley whispered in a voice so quiet that it didn't even carry to the spider positioned in the web above him.
Laughter filtered in through the bottom of the door and Dudley wept.