Chapter 27: Rita Awakens
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. IT BELONGS TO JK ROWLING.
A/N: Read, enjoy, and remember not to take either life or my writing too seriously.
The spider stared with clear irritation at the large bundle of silk hanging in its web. Inside the cocoon was the captured dung beetle, and the odor leaking from the thing was absolutely revolting.
Even after wrapping it in three additional layers of webbing, the smell refused to fade.
The spider twitched its legs in annoyance.
Perhaps it simply needs more time, it thought.
But the spider was also aware that time was becoming limited. The snowfall the previous day had been a clear warning. Winter had arrived, which meant it would soon need to either begin hibernation or risk dying in the cold.
I'll wait a few more hours, the spider decided.
If the smell hasn't disappeared by then, I'll abandon it. I refuse to spend my entire winter hibernation surrounded by that stench.
Inside the cocoon, Rita Skeeter slowly regained consciousness.
The first sensation she noticed was a horrible taste in her mouth.
The second was movement—she seemed to be swaying slightly, as though suspended in a gentle breeze.
Then she realized something alarming.
She could not move.
Her beetle eyes slowly adjusted to the strange surroundings. Most of the tiny facets of her vision were obscured by a pale, milky-white substance that looked suspiciously like webbing.
Through the few facets that remained clear, she saw a massive eight-legged creature waiting nearby.
An acromantula! Rita panicked.
I need to transform back and escape immediately!
Her mind raced as she prepared to revert to her human form.
Then a memory surfaced.
She had once read an article in a wizarding fashion magazine discussing acromantula silk.
The article had proudly claimed it was one of the strongest substances known to wizardkind.
Stronger than most metals.
Rita froze.
If she transformed back into her human form while trapped inside the silk cocoon…
…she might not break free.
She would suffocate.
The realization sent terror crashing through her mind.
Panic overwhelmed her.
The self-proclaimed greatest reporter of the Daily Prophet promptly fainted.
Harry's Morning
Meanwhile, the next morning began quite pleasantly for Harry Potter.
He woke up feeling unusually cheerful.
Memories of the previous evening immediately returned to him—the music of the Yule Ball, the elegant dancing, and most of all the sight of Hermione smiling in his arms.
He could still remember the joy shining in her eyes while they danced.
Then he remembered the gardens.
The fountains.
The roses.
Harry suddenly sat up.
Flowers!
"That's it," he muttered to himself.
"I should get Hermione some flowers."
The idea felt perfect.
Harry quickly dressed and prepared to leave his dormitory.
Just before stepping out, another thought struck him.
Are we even allowed to pick the flowers in the garden?
He shrugged.
I'll just make sure nobody sees me.
Grabbing the Marauder's Map, Harry headed toward the gardens.
To his relief, the warming charm placed over the garden during the ball was still active. The flowers hadn't been damaged by the winter cold.
After checking the map to confirm that no one else was nearby, Harry began carefully picking roses.
Soon he had gathered two dozen of them.
Once finished, he paused.
Now he had to figure out how to deliver them to Hermione.
Then an idea occurred to him.
"Dobby?" Harry called quietly.
A moment later the house-elf appeared beside him.
"Harry Potter called for Dobby, sir?"
"Dobby," Harry said, holding up the roses, "is there something these could be placed in?"
"Yes, Harry Potter, sir! Dobby can find a very nice vase!"
"Perfect," Harry said. "Could you also place them beside Hermione's bed so she sees them when she wakes up?"
"Oh yes, sir! Dobby can do that!"
The elf looked excited.
"May Dobby trim them and arrange them beautifully, sir?"
Harry smiled.
"I want them to look perfect for her. Anything you can do would be great. I'll even pay you a galleon."
Dobby beamed.
"Dobby will make them wonderful!"
With that, he vanished along with the roses.
The Strange Map
Harry checked the Marauder's Map one more time before leaving the garden.
That was when something odd caught his attention.
A name appeared on the map that he definitely didn't expect to see.
Rita Skeeter.
The name hovered near the base of one of the nearby towers.
And it wasn't moving.
Harry frowned.
What would she be doing outside this early?
Curious, he decided to investigate.
The Web
The air grew noticeably colder as Harry stepped out of the magically warmed garden area.
He moved slowly toward the location marked on the map.
When he reached the corner where the map indicated Rita should be standing, he carefully peeked around.
There was nothing there.
Harry checked the map again.
The dot labeled Rita Skeeter was still present.
Right there.
But in reality…
There was only a spider web.
A rather large spider sat in the center, staring at an unusually big lump of silk wrapped inside the web.
Harry searched the surrounding ground for footprints.
There were none.
He even looked up the tower walls.
Nothing.
Could she be buried under the snow? he wondered.
Harry stepped closer and nudged the snow carefully with his shoe.
After checking thoroughly and finding nothing, the cold finally convinced him to give up.
The map must be mistaken.
As Harry turned to leave, his leg brushed against the web.
A small piece stuck to his trousers.
Attached to it was a large silk-wrapped beetle.
Harry didn't notice.
He wiped the map clean and headed back to Gryffindor Tower to wait for Hermione.
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Thank you for reading!
See you in the next chapter ✨
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