Disclaimer: You know the drill

AN: Written for round 2 of the Quidditch League Season 10. This time it's about Stephen King books. For me, it's the book IT.

The monster under the bed.

For most people, the monster under the bed was a simple childhood fable. Something that was made up to scare children. A bogeyman from the depths of a child's imagination. Nothing remotely close to anything in the real world. Even in the Wizarding world with all manner of scary creatures and magic, the monster under the bed was at most a boggart. Annoying, but harmless. Nothing much to worry about really.

Most people were not Ronald Weasley.

Strictly speaking, he had no reason to be terrified of the eight legged monster under the bed. He was many, many times bigger than the creature in question. He had faced all manner of genuinely dangerous and scary foes in his lifetime. It was an occupational hazard of being Harry Potters best friend. He practically laughed in the face of danger. Or at least, wasn't easily scared by it.

It wasn't even the biggest member of its species. Giant members were bigger than him. By comparison, this tiny monstrous abomination was tiny. It had a tiny body and long, spindly, unnaturally long spindly legs that seemed to go on forever and made his skin crawl just thinking about it moving and...

Probably not something he should really be dwelling on really. Especially not when the eldritch abomination in question was right in front of him. (He wasn't entirely sure that the term eldritch abomination was really applicable, but it felt right in this case.)

"Come here you little bastard," he muttered under his breath as he reached forward, cup in hand, ready to catch this ugly, terrifying creature. He leapt forward, slamming the upside down cup down hard and...missed. The tiny, horrible monster merely scuttled into a corner.

He shuddered and glared at the tiny, absolutely terrifying, nasty little monster. It was bad enough when it was sitting still, but did it HAVE to move like that? Just looking at it made his skin crawl and watching it move made his soul practically threaten to leave his body.

"Stay still," he hissed in annoyance and the monster moved a bit. He shuddered again, resisting the urge to be sick. He reached for his wand and promptly stopped. He wanted to use magic. In fact, simply summoning the horrid creature would have been ridiculously easy in fact. Or a banishing charm for that matter, or levitation or any number of spells. But no. Ron had to be stupid and accepted the dare and now he had to pick up the blasted eight legged freak the muggle way, with a cup and some paper.

And...well a part of him wanted to do this. Wanted to face the nightmarish being he was facing.

That didn't make this any easier though.

He crawled a little closer, resisting the urge to practically run out of there. He was a grown man after all. A decorated war hero, with an Order of Merlin First class and a host of accolades to his name. He should not be scared of something that was a tiny fraction of his size and wasn't even particularly dangerous. Especially compared to some of the things that he had faced.

"Come on Ron, you can do this," he muttered to himself as he gripped the cup even harder. "It's not like it's a Dementor or an Iferi or some kind of nasty from the far side of the moon...it's just a spider. A small, insignificant, irrelevant spider, with it's creepy eight legs and way that it moves and...okay, not helping," he said, tailing off.

He slowly reached forward, his hand shaking with fear and once he thought he was close enough, he leapt forward.

With a satisfying clunk, he brought the glass down and this time, the horrible, ugly, disgusting creature was caught.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his still racing heart. He had done it, but now he had to finish the job. He pulled out the sheet of paper he had set aside for this particular task. Every part of him was screaming at him to run away and for a moment, he paused and licked his lips. He knew what he had to do and he knew exactly what he needed to do, but it still terrified him. Mouth dry, heart racing and a hand that was struggling not to shake, he slid the paper under the cup and trapping the spider.

The spider scrabbled against the sides of the glass, trying it's very best to escape. Ron winced slightly as he watched on and once more he swallowed the urge to be violently sick. It was even worse seeing this eldritch monster scrabbling against the sides of a clear, transparent glass. At the time, he had thought that it would be less scary to see where the monster was when he captured it, but now he wasn't so sure. The way that it moved, the way that it scrabbled against the sides...it was probably the scariest thing he had ever seen.

"Come on Ron. You're a Gryffindor. You can do this," he muttered to himself as he slowly lifted the cup and paper in one movement, leaving the spider trapped within.

He gritted his teeth as he saw the horrifying monster scrabble against the paper and it took all of his willpower not to drop it there and then.

In what felt like the longest journey in his life, he made his way to the window. It was only a couple of steps, but it felt like miles. A journey that went on and on. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. He could hear the blood pumping through his ears as memories of his favourite teddy being transformed kept flashing across his mind. His fingers could practically feel the creepy monster tapping against his skin and even though he knew that it was just his imagination, he could still feel it.

He pushed open the the window and swallowed. This was probably the hardest part since he had captured the nightmarish creature. The creature had settled down somewhat, as if resigned to it's fate. Gently he placed the glass on the window ledge and pulled the paper away. His grip on the glass tightened. He was surprised that the glass wasn't in danger of breaking really.

He took another deep breath. He was actually sweating, despite the cold air blowing around him. He gave the cup a brief tap and pulled it away as fast as he could, before rapidly pulling himself away and slamming the window shut.

He let out a long sigh of relief, even as he tried to stop himself from shaking. The monster was gone and he had succeeded. Still he continued to shake as the adrenaline and fear coursed through his veins for a few minutes more. Then he let out another sigh of relief as he threw himself back on the bed. He had done IT! He had faced his fear. And won. It was a shame that Hermione wasn't home, but he could tell her when she returned.

He still didn't like spiders though.