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“I’m just going to come out and ask,” a visibly hyperventilating Ron declared as he crouched on a table for dear life. “What kind of evil, soulless monster brings a tarantula into a shared living space?”
His accusing gaze turned to the trio of Slytherins, huddled in various corners of the room. Zabini was perched on a sofa, wand held aloft while Nott took refuge on a table— not unlike Ron himself. Malfoy, however took a moment to emerge from Harry’s neck to scowl at him.
“Don’t put this on us!” he snapped. “We had nothing to do with it!”
“He’s not accusing you, love,” Harry placated, patting his boyfriend’s back with one hand and balancing them on his rickety ledge with the other. “He’s just very upset.”
“I am not upset!” Ron screeched. “I’m furious! There’s a giant, bird eating spider in the Common Room!”
The tarantula in question wasn’t doing much. At the moment, it was just tottering around the Eighth Year Common Room on its hairy (monstrous) legs, clicking enquiringly and observing everything with its eight, sharp, (horrifying) beady eyes. If it found the concept of six grown men cowering and whimpering on various pieces of furniture a tiny bit strange, it didn’t comment.
“None of us are too happy about this, Weasley,” Nott muttered. He peered over the table hopefully. “I can’t see it anymore. Maybe it died.”
“No!” Ron shook his head vehemently. “It’s a trap! That’s what it wants you to think!”
“Well, someone do something,” Zabini demanded angrily. “We can’t stay here forever!”
Neville snorted and muttered ‘watch me’ under his breath. Zabini ignored him and turned to Harry. “You! Resident Hero and Vanquisher of all Things Creepy,” he announced firmly. “This is your cue.”
“Now, wait just a minute!” Harry sputtered indignantly. “Why the hell should I go down there?”
“You won a war!” Nott contested.
“A small war. That is a big spider.”
“It’s a moot point,” Malfoy spoke up again, tightening his grip on Harry. “He’s not going down there to deal with that beast because I forbid it. He’s retired from the Hero business and you lot can leave him alone. Make Longbottom do it.”
“Oi!” Neville yelped.
“Yes!” Zabini cheered. “Bring in the spare!”
“I am not the spare!” Neville snapped.
“Just smack it with one of your Herbology books,” Nott urged, trying to shove him off the table.
“No!” Neville yelped, holding on for dear life.
“Man up, Longbottom!” Zabini barked. “You skewered a snake, didn’t you? I can’t believe you’re scared of one measly spider!”
“Then why don’t you kill it?” Neville snapped.
Zabini lifted his chin and crossed his arms defensively. “I would, but it just happens to be against my religion.”
Malfoy and Nott groaned in tandem. “You can’t use that excuse for everything,” Nott scolded. “Not killing the spider, taking the last muffin...”
“...faffing off on Prefect Duty,” Malfoy added.
“Don’t mock my faith, you heretics!”
“We’re going to die here,” Ron declared sullenly. The spider meandered over to his table and he shuddered, pulling his legs up. “We’re going to die here and that thing is going to dance on our corpses!”
“No, we’re not,” Harry announced. He still paled when he eyed the monster in their midst but his eyes glinted with determination. “Nott’s right. We survived a war. We’ll get through this. We just have to work together.”
The rest of the boys straightened up. Shoulders straightened, nods of determination were exchanged and wands lifted. “What’s your plan?” Neville asked.
“Here’s what we’ll do,” Harry said. “I’ll jump down there and distract it. Ron, Nott and Zabini will cast the strongest Body Bind hexes they can. And Neville will smack it with the Herbology book. Draco can finish things off with a Reducto.”
There was a tense silence for a while. Then, as one, they all came together. “Okay,” Neville acquiesced quietly. He Summoned a behemoth Herbology tome from the dorm and held it up like a battle-axe. Zabini lifted his wand, Nott pursed his lips and Ron paled a little more but nodded nonetheless. Malfoy pulled Harry over and pressed a fierce kiss to his lips. “Be careful out there,” he whispered fervently.
Harry nodded and indulged himself in one more kiss...
...and then he jumped into the fray.
There was a series of flashes and bangs. Smoke rose, curses echoed and shouts sounded across the Common Room. By the time they were done and the chaos had cleared, Harry was taking cover under a sofa, the Herbology text was on the floor with a smouldering hole in the middle and the spider...
“Ugh,” Ron grimaced. “Malfoy, you were supposed to use a Reducto.”
“I did,” Malfoy replied. “Right after the Incendio.”
“Is it dead?” Nott demanded. He was still shaking. “Please just tell me it’s dead.”
“It’s dead,” Harry muttered grimly. “It’s over. We won.”
“Yes!” Zabini cheered, alighting from the sofa. “Oh sweet floor, I missed you so much.”
Ron grinned and pocketed his wand. “I can’t believe we did it,” he exclaimed. “That spider didn’t stand a chance!”
Harry smiled and wrapped an arm around Malfoy, helping him down. “It’s all about teamwork,” he said with a smile. Malfoy smiled back and pulled him in for a kiss.
And they stayed there for a while—exchanging congratulations, clapping each other on the back and re-enacting some of their more daring escapades. That is, until someone else entered the Common Room.
“Oh, here you all are,” Daphne Greengrass exclaimed, stopping in her tracks as she noticed them together. “We were wondering what all the noise was about.”
“Daphne, you won’t believe what just happened,” Nott began. “So there we were...”
Daphne shook her head. “I’d really like to stay and chat, but we have a bit of a crisis,” she explained politely. “Apparently, Pansy’s pet tarantula is missing.”
A pin drop could have shattered the resounding silence.
“What?” Ron croaked, paling all over again. Malfoy elbowed him sharply in the ribs.
“A tarantula, you said?” Neville enquired politely, sliding the ruined Herbology text out of sight. “What does it look like?”
“Charlotte’s rather hard to miss,” Daphne sighed. “We can’t find her anywhere. Just let us know if you see her, okay?”
She withdrew with a parting nod, leaving a group of very awkward, somewhat embarrassed young men in her wake.
“So...” Harry cleared his throat and scrubbed an uneasy hand through his hair. “Who wants to break the news to Parkinson?”
“I would,” Zabini said promptly. “But it’s against my religion.”