This humourous little thing is for Ice And Starlight for her epic help with it, hilarious ideas and insane mind-wanderings. Thanks also to seirai-chan for letting me know if it was worthless or not.

Based off a series of 25-word drabbles I did for hrr_roundrobin on LJ under the same title. Also posted on my LJ (tsumetaikaze) in case anyone thinks I is a thief DX

Disclaimer: Though I am tempted to write something outrageously long and witty here, the simple answer is: No. Really.

.: Creature Obstacles :.

Harry is confused.

He's standing at the doorway to their bedroom, glasses askew and pants halfway undone, but Ron isn't behind him or undressing him or anywhere near him, really.

Something's not quite adding up in Harry's hazy mind, but he's almost positive that Ron standing stock-still at the opposite end of the hallway looking terrified out of his wits should not come into the equation at any point.

Harry blinks.


Ron holds up his hand to indicate quiet. He takes half a step forward then two steps back, eyes widening comically. Harry tries to calculate how much wine they've had tonight by way of explaining the current situation, gives up almost immediately, and leans heavily against the doorframe.

"Hey, Ron," he tries again, voice layered with alcohol, confusion, and slowly fading lust.

The only thing that might make its way into the equation is the fact that Ron's shirt is unbuttoned and hanging off his shoulders, and there is a definite just-ravished sense to his appearance. For the life of him, Harry can't work out what could possibly be more interesting at that end of the hallway than this one, because Ron must have had far too much to drink if he doesn't know what's going to happen once that door's closed. Or not closed. Harry doesn't really care much either way, as long as the end result is the same.

"Harry," Ron whispers.

And even with his mind as fluffy and side-tracked as it is, Harry knows a distress call when he hears one.

He steps forward carefully, brow knitted in either one of confusion or concentration, and pads his way down the dimly-lit hallway to stand beside a very pale Ron.

Harry blinks up at him and tilts his head. "Are you okay?"

Ron bites his lip, already swollen from Harry's attentions not minutes previous, and starts to worry at it as he gives an almost imperceptible twitch of the head.

Harry doesn't quite know what that means, but it's the most non-committal twitch he's ever seen. He frowns. Ron's eyes haven't moved since Harry spotted him frozen to the spot, and Harry follows the direction of his gaze.

"Ah," he breathes simply, frown easing into a small smile.

"Uh - yeah," Ron almost squeaks, but Harry won't tell him.

"Can't get past?" Harry inquires.

Ron shakes his head.

Harry tries not to smirk too obviously as he says, "You really don't like them do you?" Like he's just arrived at the realisation.

Another negative.

"Ah," he says again.

"Could you - er - could…" Ron's voice is small. Harry grins across and up at him. "Could you get rid of it? … Please?"

Harry gives himself a stern talking to and stifles a giggle. "Can't banish a living organism," he says happily. "Or something."

Ron whines at the back of his throat.

Harry stares at the - tiny - spider for a moment, then - "What's so bad about them?"

Ron splutters something that sounds like "legs" and "Aragog" before taking another tiny step backwards.

"Aragog wasn't that bad," Harry says idly, as if commenting on the hallway's colour scheme.

Ron's colour scheme becomes an interesting mixture of purples and reds and wide disbelieving eyes, but it's not quite enough to make him remove his eyes from the offending creature.

"Aragog was flipping mental and huge and disgusting and -" Ron cuts himself off by snapping his mouth shut and pressing his lips tight, the memory apparently too disturbing to continue.

"Friendly?" Harry tries.

Ron looks about ready to pass out.

"Ever thought of levitating them out of your way?"

Ron makes a vague negative gesture and says, "Well, no, not - they sort of - I see one and I just… I can't think."

Harry scratches his nose and pushes his glasses up, biting back a smile behind the cover of his hand. "What about stunning it?"

Ron shakes his head forcefully at that suggestion. "No way - what do I do with it once it's hit the ground, huh?"

"That's when you levitate it," Harry reasons.

Ron just scoffs and rubs at his forearms uncomfortably. "Well I'm not gonna think of that when facing down a bloody giant spider now, am I?"

Harry tilts his head and looks at the spider again, sizing it up. "But this one's probably only… what, half the size of your palm?"

"Not the point," Ron grumbles.

"Of course," Harry agrees.

There's a short silence, then -

"Why don't you stun it then?"

Harry shrugs and answers easily, "Not my fear to face, mate."

Ron gives a little desperate squirm at that but has nothing to say, and so resumes glaring at the spider for all he's worth.

Harry almost bounces on the balls of his feet at the utter hilarity of Ron's predicament, until he realises that this spider is acting as a very solid barrier between Ron and the bedroom. And he stops very suddenly.

This, Harry decides, just won't do. He wants Ron in that room, and he wants him there now.

He briefly considers carrying Ron the rest of the way down the hall before noting that his arms, and legs, for that matter, currently resemble something like jelly, and that carrying his quite-a-bit-taller boyfriend down the hall would not be a good idea.

Nor would levitating him, because magic and alcohol do not mix - a lesson learned the hard way. Possibly more than once. Also - where was his wand?

Well then. There's nothing else for it.

Harry squares his shoulders, steps forward to face a positively quaking Ron, and says, "Ronald, I want you to ignore the spider - close your eyes if you have to - and come to the bedroom. With me." He pauses, then adds, "Now" just for good measure.

Ron's eyes flick to Harry and go unfocused for half a second before snapping back to the spider. Harry sighs as Ron's body visibly goes rigid with fear again, and the smallest of steps is taken backwards.

"Wrong direction," he chides.

Ron gives a little shrug that looks more like an involuntary spasm of the shoulder, and his eyes narrow. "But it's… it's there."

Harry nods. "Yes, yes it is. But you know what else is there? At the end of the hallway, precisely?"

Ron mutters something under his breath, and Harry waits for him to gather his courage.

"Bed…" he mumbles.

Harry beams at him and pats his arm lightly in congratulations. "That's right."

Ron looks like he's about to burst, and Harry waits again. He's sure Ron will see it his way, he just needs some time. But Ron's face is getting redder and he's started squirming and his eyes still won't look away.

"Look, Harry, I just… you know how it is! I've been bloody traumatised, haven't I? All that crap with Aragog and his spawn and the boggarts and Fred and George being the pranking gits they are - I can't just… walk right on by!"

Harry frowns. "It's not going to eat you."

Ron's eyes go wide and he whispers fiercely, as if making sure the spider won't hear, "Yes it will."

Harry thinks this is bordering on ridiculous now. Change in tactic, he decides.

He shrugs and turns his back on Ron, running a hand through his already-messy hair and stretching his arms up high, releasing a loud, exaggerated yawn.

"Well," he says carelessly, "if you're going to be out there all night then I'm going to bed." He looks back over his shoulder to ask Ron if he wants to be thrown a pillow and blanket, only to be pulled up short when he sees that Ron is still not looking at him.

The tingle of alcohol is either making him feel a lot more attractive than he really is, or that spider has honest to god stolen Ron's brain. And considering Ron is a horny bugger when he's had a few, Harry's willing to vouch for the second option.

Which is just not on.

Harry shakes his messed-up fringe out of his eyes, presses his lips together, and begins his slow, sauntering walk towards the bedroom. He absently undoes the last couple of buttons on his wrinkled shirt, shrugs it off his shoulders, and turns around once he reaches the bedroom door.

Ron appears to be having a particularly vicious war with himself. And possibly his legs. His hands are unclenching and clenching into fists, his eyes are darting between Harry and the spider so fast they're practically a blur, and his legs really aren't sure whether they're stepping forwards, backwards or diagonal.

Harry smirks.

That's better.

"Are you all right, Ron?" he asks, all innocence and smiles.

"Harry Potter," comes the strained reply, "you, are a bloody great prat."

Harry just flashes a wicked grin when Ron's eyes dart to him yet again, and tilts his head to the side invitingly. "Oh, yes?"



"Very yes."

"I see."

Ron whines.

"And are you going to do anything about that?"

Ron whines again, and adds a little wriggle to it this time, his face clearly twisted into that of distress. "I'd love to, you see, but…"

Harry lifts an eyebrow. "But…?"

"But this sodding spider is in the way and its taunting me and so are you and it's not - bloody - fair."

Harry thinks about this for a moment, then says in a thoroughly affronted voice, "Are you saying that you're rejecting me for a spider? A measly little spider?"

"It bloody well is not little!" Ron exclaims. "Or measly!"

Harry nods in defeat. "I stand corrected."

"Too right you do."

Harry leans against the doorway, slowly removing his glasses and messing his hair in a way that he knows for a fact (several times over) makes Ron's brain short circuit into Bedroom Mode. "Well if that's how it is…" he sighs, slipping one handle of his glasses into his mouth and biting it thoughtfully. "Shall I just go to bed on my own, then? It's just that there was this thing I was reading in that book Hermione got us for Christmas, and I thought that maybe you might like to… you know - help me study?"

He almost flutters his eyelashes, but thinks it might be a bit much.

Ron is outright squirming now, face contorting with the effort of keeping watch on the spider while his legs are doing a more complex dance in every direction imaginable.

Harry is hard-pressed not to laugh like a fool, really.

"You - you -"


"You wank-aaah ha!"

In the time it takes Harry to blink, Ron has taken a flying leap across the Great Divide and landed right in front of him, breathing heavily and snapping his head back to check on the spider's position, quite clearly terrified. Still.

"It moved," he squeaks.


"Towards me," he adds in a small whisper.

Harry would've rolled his eyes if he wasn't so delighted by Ron's sudden close proximity.

Instead he nods his approval and says idly, "And I see you're alive."

Ron starts to smile a slow, spreading smile. "Yes," he breathes.

"Not eaten."


"Perfectly safe despite crossing paths with a spider."

"Perfectly safe."

"If not a little traumatised."

Ron is too elated to pick up on the jibe, so he just nods enthusiastically and wraps his arms tightly around Harry's waist, pulling him close enough that their noses are almost touching.

Oh much better, Harry thinks.

"So," Ron says, still smiling that infuriatingly contagious smile.

"So," replies Harry, grin stretching from ear to ear as his arms loop around Ron's neck.

"What was that thing you needed help with?"

Harry's grin turns evil and he tilts his head. "You're sure the spider isn't preventing you from studying anymore?"


"Well then. Best get your thinking cap on."

Ron raises his eyebrow as Harry pulls away and very nearly struts into the bedroom. "I was more thinking that clothes came off."

"Oh yes," Harry throws over his shoulder with a smirk to rival all smirks, "that definitely happens later."

And Ron doesn't even think of glancing behind him as he follows Harry to the bed with that same grin.

Definitely not.

I apologise for the fail!ending, I really do. I had a brain fart. Eugh.

The plan is simple: if you liked it, hit the green button and tell me. If not, then... aaw, shattered.


Thanks for reading!