Disclaimer: I does not own. I does not want to. Would be shite if I owned. XD

//This is Parseltongue.//

Don't be too disappointed with Harry's animagus form, lol, I did it for a reason. Explained in the ending A/N.

Paraselenic

Cavil // an evasion of the point of an argument by raising irrelevant distinctions or objections

"So," Harry said eventually, "what crawled up your arse and died?"

Harry could hear Voldemort grind his teeth in annoyance. "Funny, Potter."

"What? It's an honest question."

Voldemort waved a hand and leaned forward, steepling his fingers and narrowing his eyes. "I have many better things to do than sit here and listen to your annoying quips. You stayed because you believe we have things to discuss, so speak."

"And I have better things to do than listen to you act like you're Merlin's ruddy ballsack." Harry sneered at the reptilian man. "But you don't see me bitching about it."

Voldemort's disposition had been bad enough since Harry had arrived an hour before, and Harry could tell he was steadily approaching the end of his rope. It was really too bad for the Dark Lord that making him lose control was exactly what Harry was trying to do. "Potter, get out of my study right now before I hit you with the most painful curse I can think of."

Harry smirked and pushed himself off Voldemort's long desk, stretching his arms over his head casually. "No, don't think I will, Tom. You started with your terrible attitude the second I walked in the door and haven't stopped since, and I want to know why."

"You have no right to question me," Voldemort hissed at him in a low tone, the sibilance indicative of his affected form's forked tongue becoming pronounced. Inanely, Harry's mind entertained thoughts of whether, as a Metamorphmagus, Voldemort's natural form could have the tongue as well. It was an interesting thought, but irrelevant to the current situation and was quickly pushed into the back of Harry's mind.

"As your partner in this blasted war, I have every right!"

"Crucio!"

Harry had been ready for the curse and flung himself to the side just in time, the sickly yellow light barely missing his shoulder. Harry rolled as he hit the ground and pointed his Blackthorn wand at Voldemort. "Exosso!"

Voldemort threw up a shield at the last second that absorbed the Bone Dissolving curse, luckily for Voldemort. The curse had been aimed at his head, after all. He hissed out an incantation of nonsense words in Parseltongue, and Harry was not stupid enough to sit back and let whatever the orange jet of light was hit him.

He threw up a reflecting shield and raised himself into a crouch, ready to somersault out of the way should the spell be one of those that was unhindered by magical shields. The spell bounced off and Voldemort moved in the nick of time to dodge the rebounded curse.

Harry was already sick of this fight. They hadn't had a falling out this bad in months and Harry wasn't having any fun with it as he usually did, neatly rolling to his left to avoid Voldemort's rapidly fired Shattering hexes. Harry reached beneath his long hair and pulled out his dagger, catching the Dark Lord off guard as the unornamented blade sunk into the bicep of his wand arm.

Harry stood and brushed off his robes, darting forward to snatch Voldemort's fallen wand before its owner could snatch it up in his right hand. However, since Voldemort was capable of quite a bit of wandless magic, Harry didn't bother keeping the wand any more protected than tossing it over is shoulder. Without pausing long enough for the bleeding man to gain his bearings, Harry resorted to tackling the Dark Lord out of his chair, the arm managing to catch Harry's hip with bruising force as they tumbled onto the floor in a heap of limbs.

Harry's patience with the man was lost at this point, and he grabbed thin wrists and pressed them into the ground, panting a bit out of adrenaline. He regretted now that he had skived off so much on his training for the last few months, because his muscles were protesting the acrobatics. He glared down into Voldemort's furious eyes as he gathered both wrists into one hand and used the other to pull the short blade from his arm.

Harry nearly moaned as he licked the intoxicating blood from the blade, eyes never leaving Voldemort's. He had always thought the man's blood would be particularly complex if only for the amount of Dark magic he had delved into… but nothing could have prepared him. The Darkness was nearly tangible across his tongue, the sheer power in it leaving him lightheaded. He was forced to place the blade aside before he went into a crazed state over it; it was too powerful. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, attempting to reassert his control over himself.

Harry hadn't been expecting the unconventional attack, and therefore did little other than melt when lips crushed into his own, a hand winding into his hair at the back of his neck to jerk him down flush against Tom's body. And it was Tom, as evidenced by the thin lips currently devouring his own. Harry didn't know what to think, really, only that for one reason or another Tom was kissing him ferociously and damn but did it feel good.

The kiss was so intense that neither seemed even able to think of the need to breath through their noses until air became such an issue that they had to break apart, leaving Harry staring down into the serious face of Tom Riddle. He didn't move away and their lips still brushed as they shared a long silent moment, no longer caring that they were sprawled across the floor and injured from a duel.

Harry muttered a healing charm on the bloodied arm absently, suddenly feeling drained. "Why do we always do this, Tom?"

Tom was strangely expressionless, not lashing out as he normally did when Harry finally came down off his adrenaline. His right arm, the one that had not been injured, raised up and took a lock of long black hair between his fingers, rubbing it back and forth between them. "Perhaps it really would be impossible for us to both live in peace so long as the other survives. It seems neither of us can attain peace when the other is around."

Harry scowled. "I think the prophecy is a moot point. Don't tell me you're actually willing to let that codswallop rule your life? Oh wait, I forgot, you're the reason the prophecy matters to begin with!"

Tom scowled back, raising himself up on his elbows though making no move to get out of their position, "What did you expect me to do? A child born that could defeat me? Was I to leave such opposition?"

"'And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal'. Had you not bothered to rush into the situation like some Gryffindor and attack the Longbottoms or my family, you never would have had any opposition! If you hadn't cast the Killing Curse at my head, we wouldn't be here arguing about it!"

"I didn't know about that line of the prophecy, you idiot!"

"Yes, well, Slytherins are known for their cunning, are they not? Why not wait a few more years and attempt to retrieve the full prophecy for yourself before running headlong into your demise? I was a year old, Tom, I wasn't going to be any opposition for you anytime soon."

Tom paused and scowled. "Perhaps that is true, but what is the use of arguing over something already done?"

Harry sat up, knees to either side of Tom's waist, and crossed his arms over his chest. "You're the one who brought it up as if it has any relevance in our lives."

"Because we can't seem to get along for more than a day at a time!"

"So? Do we or do we not always figure things out in the end? All relationships…"

"Don't you dare refer to," Tom waved his hand with a scowl, "this as a relationship."

"Any partnership is a relationship, Tom, though I would beg to differ about what this is."

The two stared at one another, green and red clashing silently. This was a line Harry knew was better not to cross, but his mouth tended to work without consulting his mind first. Tom refused to even admit to having human emotions, let alone anything as intimate as Harry was suggesting. It was risky to even hint towards such a thing, let alone to state it so bluntly. Harry waited for the explosion.

It never came. Tom sighed and stretched out his arms, laying back onto the dirty floor and clenching his jaw silently. His dark hair was disordered around his head in such a way that Harry knew he would be livid if he saw it. Harry thought it fetching. He resisted the urge to reach down and run his fingers through it, which would effectively call attention to the mess it was. Harry also resisted the urge to press his lips to Tom's frowning ones, as he was lucky enough to have gotten away with the comment he had made; calling attention to the strange connection between them would only exacerbate the problem.

Harry shifted slightly, becoming all to aware of their position as his line of thought made its way for the gutter. All thoughts of prophecies and Trelawney began draining from his mind as he rethought his previous directive of not kissing Tom…

Harry's thoughts froze. Trelawney. Prophecies. Oh hell, he knew he'd been forgetting something.

"Erm, Tom?" Harry said with a nervous laugh. "I've just remembered something…"

"What did you forget, Potter?" Tom said slowly, raising himself up once more and glaring. The effect was somewhat muted by the disheveled hair, but Harry knew the other man was serious.

"There… there was another prophecy."

Tom jerked into a sitting position, dislodging Harry's seat and making him tumble across Tom's legs. "Another prophecy?" Tom hissed in a low voice, black rage creeping over his features. "And you only now felt it pertinent to inform me?"

"I honestly forgot… you left directly after Halloween and before we could meet and it totally slipped my mind in the meantime… I don't hold much stock in the damn things, anyway…"

"Tell me now, Potter." Each word was annunciated slowly, crimson eyes flashing.

Harry sighed and clenched his jaw. "The end comes near, shadows stretching and consuming. Darkness will creep over hills and sea, until nothing but despair breeds under its depressive cover. The full moon will watch as its child is thrust to the fore. Not all aims will be realized, nor all plans be for naught. One final confrontation shall decide the victor, the Light and Dark vying for supremacy. Only the binding of the Two can ensure the world's survival, the Power the Dark Lord knows not must be realized. A defied prophecy shall tell the tale. The end comes near…"

Had the situation been different, Harry might have laughed at the gobsmacked expression on Tom's face. As it was, any humor Harry might have felt was lost as Tom shoved him back off his legs and stood, brushing his robes with a look of controlled fury on his face. "Repeat it slowly, Potter," he growled, snatching up a parchment and quill, "and then get the hell out of my sight."

And Harry did. There was little left to say anyway, on any matter, at least with Tom's current mood. Once he had repeated it word for word, he stood from the dusty floor and inclined his head. "I'll be back, you know."

Once Harry had left the room entirely, Tom let his head fall into his hands, his soft snort echoing through the empty room. "Happy Christmas, Harry."

Harry sat contentedly next to an amused Narcissa as he watched Lucius and Valerian unsuccessfully hide their flirtation. Valerian had always been one to appreciate beauty and no one could ever call Lucius less than that. And Harry was all too aware of Lucius's power lust. When he had first noticed the obvious attraction, he had expected jealousy; Valerian, after all, had been his lover for nearly eight years, and Lucius a favored dalliance.

But he wasn't. He watched them with unrepentant mirth, whispering to Narcissa as one of them made a comment that bordered on spelling out their desires on paper and fanning it in front of the other's face. It amused both he and Narcissa, and made Draco pointedly ignore them all from the corner of the room where he was penning a letter. It was Yule, after all, and Narcissa had insisted they all spend time in the parlor.

"Really, you'd think they were teenaged girls," Narcissa groused for the seventh time. "Dancing around each other the way they are…"

Harry snickered behind his brandy. "I see your point, but it seems they are both playing coy for the night. How… corny."

"What's… corny… is that you could use that word. Banal, love, sounds much better."

"Am I offending your sense of propriety? Apologies…"

Narcissa failed to hide her laugh, earning her raised eyebrows from both the men across the room. She waved them off and narrowed her eyes at Harry. "You're lucky I've been drinking, love, because I'd never forgive you for making me laugh in public elsewise."

"Public?" Harry snorted, glancing around the room. "It is only your son and husband, Valerian, and me in the room besides you. How much have you had to drink if you think this is public?"

"But Harry, it's the Vampire Marquis! The power he possesses…"

"Are you going to attempt to get into Val's pants, too, then? Oh, or maybe a threesome? Merlin, that's actually kind of hot. Unfortunately, Valerian doesn't care much for women… though I'm sure a train could be arranged… I'd want to watch, of course…"

Narcissa's lightly flushed face darkened rapidly, wide blue eyes torn away from their view to stare at Harry. "I had no idea you were so crude! In the presence of a lady of my stature! I never!"

"But you love me regardless, don't you dear?"

Giving up on decorum, Narcissa snorted. "You'd like to think so, wouldn't you."

Harry laughed and patted her arm, reclining back in his seat and smiling over at the blonde. "You liked your Christmas gift well enough, I see."

Narcissa's hand moved to lay against the bracelet he had admittedly made last minute. He hadn't expected to get on with Narcissa as well as he had -- free from expectation and power plays, he could just lark about with the woman. She wasn't a minion or a potential ally… she was just a woman with a wicked sense of humor and far too little chance to use it. She was free of the perpetual stick-up-the-arse syndrome that both Lucius and Tom seemed to suffer from and was without the toffee-nosed attitude that Draco possessed. It was relaxing to spend time with her.

The bracelet had been a cliché idea coming from knowing very little of her, but it suited her. The circle of golden narcissi had been the most delicate metalwork he'd ever done, edges charmed to glimmer in any light. It went well with her coloring and he was pleased to see her wear it. Lucius' gift, a wyvern drink dispenser, was also displayed on an end table. He wasn't so sure whether that, though, was honest appreciation for the gift or just Lucius being obsequious.

"I do. I don't think I've gotten a gift handmade for me since Draco was a child. He used to make me the cutest cards and have his father enchant them…"

"Mother!"

Harry rolled his eyes at the indignant squawk. He should have known the boy was paying attention. It was an improvement, though, that he hadn't added himself to the conversation when Harry had been being lecherous. However, as it was Christmas, Harry didn't bother with a snide remark, he just smiled at his companion. "I'm glad it was well received, then. By next year, I suppose I'll know you well enough to give you something even better."

"You plan to be around this time next year, then?" she asked shrewdly, one pale eyebrow arching.

Harry merely lifted a shoulder in response and let her take that as she would. He wouldn't be making promises he wasn't sure he could keep, after all.

Valerian liked unexpected things. He loved surprises and unforeseen circumstances. He loved the astonishing and the bizarre, the things that didn't synchronize with the everyday world. After all, once you began thinking to count your age in centuries rather than years or even decades, it was very rare to find true joy in the world around you.

His Mylläkkä, the one currently in front of him, was one of those joys. His very existence hinged on an anomaly, on being the first and only person to survive the Killing Curse. It had caught Valerian's interest as soon as it had happened those years ago, and he had waited patiently for a chance to study this strange creature known as Harry Potter.

Reports had come in over the years of a small malnourished boy capable of astounding feats of magic. With each account he had grown more and more intrigued by the boy, more amazed at the feats he had been able to accomplish. He was truly a puzzle, one which Valerian took great joys in trying to pick apart. Since he had finally managed to get the boy under his wing only months ago, he had only become more and more interested in the secrets he hid.

And here was that boy before him, grown under his tutelage into a fierce and vibrant man, treading the line between mortality and immortality effortlessly. He had obviously taken to Valerian in the intervening years, as Valerian could see his own mannerisms in the boy from the way he moved to the way he treated others, and it warmed his long-dead heart to see it. He had never taken an heir, but somehow in the course of the next decade, he would delegate this boy into the position. The boy had told him so, and he could only agree with the decision.

He left the scrumptious part-Veela man that was apparently a subordinate of Harry's, sashaying his way to where the young man sat with the pretty blonde lady of the house. He bowed deeply and gave a roguish grin to the slightly flushed woman, the alcohol in her hand having had a slight effect no matter her nobility. "May I join your conversation, my lady Malfoy? I do not wish to impose."

The blonde smiled a bit too widely and nodded. "Of course, sir Marquis. We would be honored… wouldn't we, Harry?"

Harry snorted into his drink and peered through his fringe at Valerian. "Charmed."

The elder Vampire chuckled and conjured himself a seat, crossing his legs and settling comfortably. "I will be leaving tonight, pet."

"So soon?" Harry asked, sitting forward abruptly. "But you can just open a portal and jump back!"

Valerian gave a genuine, soft smile, a hand reaching out to tuck back the strands of hair that had escaped the younger man's ponytail. "I cannot interfere here, Mylläkkä. I am sorry. This is your battle. My title is more than just superfluous garble, you know. I am sworn to keep myself out of mortal affairs if they might effect the timeline… and this surely would. I will lend the support of my followers, but I myself must be gone for the coming events. I assume you know this by now, pet? The restriction the Fates have placed on me are heavy."

"You will come back?"

"As if I could leave you for long," Valerian winked and quickly fell back into his most comfortable role, eyes shining with mischief. "So, how did things go with your Voldemort?"

Harry grumbled and scowled. "That man is the most stubborn dolt of anyone I've ever known! And that includes you!"

Valerian laughed brightly, a grin spread over his lips. "I have every faith that you will figure it out, pet. I am going to retire for the night if my lady has no objections?"

The implications were clear, and Narcissa gracefully, despite her inebriation, inclined her head. "It was a pleasure to have you in our home, sir Marquis."

"Trust me, my lady Malfoy, the pleasure was all mine."

She laughed as Valerian turned towards her husband, an eyebrow rising in question at the stately man. Just as he swept from the room, he heard the younger vampire laughing. "How can you be so blasé about all this, Cissy? Honestly…"

The lady's laugh was clear and ringing. "Come now, love, haven't you ever heard of a pensieve?"

Valerian laughed, himself, on his way to the guest room they had graced him with, feeling more at ease there than he had felt in years. He saw himself returning to this place often.

Harry hated his Animagus form. When his tutor Nicolai had done the test to see if he was capable, Harry had been beyond thrilled to know that he would be able to become an animagus like his father and godfather. It had taken him nearly three years of work to be able to attempt the transformation, as he had had too many other studies congruent with Transfiguration to focus extra attention on it, but the day Dante and Nicolai had told him he was ready he had been nearly giddy. Then he had transformed. His good mood had been short lived.

He had imagined himself to be something fierce and wild… a panther maybe, or a wolf. Something befitting of how he saw himself. He had also dreamed of being a stag like his father in the back of his mind, a hope he had held from when he was thirteen and learned of his father's form. Hell, he would have appreciated an owl or a housecat more. He supposed the symbology was fitting enough, but that did little to assuage his annoyance with his form.

He was a spider. A bloody spider! And not a cool vicious looking one, either, like a tarantula, or an especially toxic one like the Sydney Funnel Web. He was a spider from the Latrodectus family, probably a Red Back, though the fact that his markings were in the shape of a lightning bolt made identification more difficult. He might have even dealt with the form despite all his complaints if not for the final icing on the cake: not only did he end up with a tiny form that would be easily squished, not only was he only mildly venomous, but he was the bloody girl of the species. So here he was, climbing the craggy stone outer walls of Hogwarts with an oversized arse the size of a pea and another two levels left to climb.

Harry wished he could have just used his invisibility cloak and gotten into Dante's rooms that way, but being as the Entry Hall was too close to the Great Hall and it was lunch time, he didn't want to risk coming in close contact with his Blood Clone and making the damned thing malfunction. The last thing he needed was for the clone to regress in age or begin singing showtunes in front of the staff. And, unfortunately, flying in his invisibility cloak was a very bad idea any farther than a foot off the ground, as there was no way to conceal his feet.

Dante's window was in sight now, and Harry nearly sobbed in joy to see that his window was cracked open. He would have been pissed off if he had made it all the way up only to find the window locked tight. Now he just had to hope Dante's unnatural aversion to spiders didn't cause him to squish him before he noticed who it was.

Dante was sitting in his favorite chair in front of the fire, hand paused in the mid-turning of a page. Dark blue eyes were riveted on Harry as he crawled his way through the window. "Mylläkkä, you are lucky that your form is so distinctive or I would have impaled you." He flicked his wrist to call attention to the dagger he had there.

Harry transformed once he was free of the window, glaring over at Dante. "You really need to see someone about this spider obsession you've got. Really. Because for a millennia old vampire, it just can't be healthy."

"Shut up, childe."

Harry sighed and fell gracelessly into the other chair closing his eyes in exhaustion. It was New Year's Eve and Harry had decided to preempt the students' return to Hogwarts. He had given over information to Lucius to do further research on Dumbledore and sketched out a timeline for the release of bits of information. Rita Skeeter would be their unknowing comrade-in-arms in this; after all, the petty witch never passed up the chance to slander someone. By giving her a few pieces of information, she would hunt for more and exaggerate as much as possible. Hopefully it would be enough.

"Dante, I want to spar," Harry said suddenly. "I need to get back into shape. These once-a-month training sessions just aren't going to cut it."

The blond looked up from his book. "What brought about this epiphany?"

Harry coughed and looked away from his trainer. "I figured it out while in a duel with Tom, but then Valerian decided he wanted to test me… and he kicked my arse…"

"Nothing new about that," Dante said with a smirk.

"Yes, well, usually I can at least hold him off for a while! He kicked my ass repeatedly for an hour!"

Dante nodded, "Fine, we will begin your training again. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday in the Safe Room off my classroom from four ante meridiem until you must return to ready yourself for classes. Will that be sufficient?"

Harry sighed, already dreading being back under Dante's torture-- that is, tutelage. "Yes. That will have to be fine."

"Why were you dueling with your Lord Voldemort?"

Harry refused to take the bait of arguing that Voldemort was not his. He explained the events of the holidays as best he could, leaving out bits that he neither wanted Dante to know nor did Dante want to know. "And so, for one reason or another, he was ticked off at me enough that, in front of Valerian, he started a fight! Then, once Val was gone, he decided to be an even bigger arse and start shooting curses!"

Dante's lips twitched, and Harry knew he wasn't going to like where the conversation was going. Any time Dante was amused, it was generally at his expense. The blond inclined his head, effectively hiding his expression. "Interesting."

"Dante, I haven't the will or the mood for this right now. Please don't toy with me."

"Your Voldemort was jealous."

Harry blinked rapidly, eyebrows climbing up towards his hairline. "What?"

"Jealous. He was jealous. It is quite obvious, Mylläkkä."

"But he's the bloody bastard that said it was a 'one time thing', and it was only Valerian…"

"He does not seem like one to share, regardless of circumstance. And denial is very common in the emotionally constipated."

Harry snorted. "Yes, well, that may be true. Regardless of that, he's a damned prat and I really shouldn't put up with him. The sooner this war is over with, the sooner I can leave this convoluted world behind."

Dante's expressionless face stared back at him, and Harry resisted the urge to fidget. "Do you think it will be so easy?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Harry countered. "Once I return to Sceaduwe, I can leave the annoying world and its perpetual power struggle behind. My task is merely to make sure these prophecies are no longer relevant so I can live my life in peace."

Dante didn't even blink.

"What?!" Harry said in exasperation.

"You are such a foolish boy. Still a child no matter the weight on your shoulders. Do you really think you would be able to stay away?"

"Yes."

"Tell me about this life."

Harry sat back and looked at the ceiling. "Well, let's see… I would probably end up consenting to a full Change; as Valerian's heir I can't be anything less than immortal. The werewolves are the only beings allowed in who aren't, and that's only because they once were. I will help Valerian all I can and continue learning… it will be a lot like these last few years, really."

"What were your motivations during your training?"

"Are you being a counselor or what, Dante? Ugh. I don't know… Escaping the Wizarding world by putting an end to the ties that bind me there, making myself powerful enough to be taken as an equal to Tom…"

"And what will your motivations be when you return?"

Harry pursed his lips and didn't answer.

"You would have none." It wasn't a question.

Harry inclined his head. "Regardless…"

"Tell me, Harry, how you imagine a world without your Voldemort in it."

The use of his given name startled Harry enough to meet blue eyes, which were narrowed slightly in his direction. Harry sighed and shrugged a shoulder. "I… don't really think I can. Since I was eleven years old I've been trying to, but Tom is kind of a central figure in my life. He was the killer of my parents, my attempted murderer, the reason I was who I was, the reason my life had been the way it was. And now… well, he's Tom. He's the prat that makes my life difficult and kisses me for no damn good reason, who doesn't like to get up early and…" Harry halted his speech and resolutely refused to meet Dante's eyes.

"I think you need to sit and consider just what you've gotten yourself into. You continually shove all such thoughts to the back of your mind, unable to bear the thoughts that you know you have. You refuse attachment because you are a pessimist who believes your life is fated to go wrong, you run away from emotions you don't understand. This will end up hindering you in the future."

Harry growled under his breath. "How do you figure you know so much about relationships? You have no experience whatsoever in this; you haven't even moved on past your first love from when you were still mortal."

Silence.

Harry knew immediately that he shouldn't have said that. It was an unspoken boundary, not to be touched no matter the circumstance.

Dante stood slowly, jaw quivering in rage and his hands balled into fists. He had more control than anyone Harry had ever seen, though, for he only turned to face the fire and continued in a low tone. "I have spent the last centuries observing. When you have lived so long, after all, what else is there to do? I have seen generations pass me by, and watching the way they interacted was always interesting to me, as it was never the same from day to day. You may choose to ignore my advice all you wish, but if you dare to mention Ann again, I will not be so kind next time."

"I'm sorry Dante," Harry said quietly, knowing it was inadequate. "You know I didn't mean it."

"I will go to retrieve your clone now, Mylläkkä. We will continue this conversation later."

Harry heeded the dismissal and unshrunk his invisibility cloak, pulling it around his shoulders and slipping from the room. He needed to see Snape about the student list, anyway. Now, though, in addition to the million other things on his overburdened mind, he also had how to apologize to Dante.

It seemed he was far too good at saying the wrong thing lately.

Harry's Animagus form: I wanted to be different. I've rarely seen him be anything less than ubercool in a non-parody, and as much as I'd rather him be something nifty… well, it's all been done before to death, so I wanted to go with an insect. I've never seen it for Harry, personally. And the symbology fits, I think.

Spider: Spiders are weavers and tricksters. They symbolize fate, caution, entanglement, ruthlessness, female energy, wisdom, creativity, new life, warning signals, illusions. They are most often seen as harbingers of danger and warnings of future upheaval.

As for him being a female spider, other than for humorous purposes, there are reasons for that as well. Females are the dominant ones in spiders, the strong ones. Males are generally more fragile and killed quickly. The role reversal was one of several reasons I chose this for him, not as an implication that Harry is a girl. :P

Revised: 3/20/09