"Merlin, those things are scary…" a pale faced young wizard, tall and lanky, wearing slightly singed and wrinkled bright orange Quidditch robes that matched his mop of equally tousled hair perfectly, followed his best friend and savior down the wide, sweeping, presumably innocently Muggle path that had seemed quite charming in the light of day, with the overhanging branches shifting and swaying gently in the breeze and casting dappled shadows onto the fern-covered ground below, but still managed to be dark and nothing if not undeniably creepy this late at night. They trudged their way through the foliage back towards civilization and away from almost certain doom at the hands of some of the very few creatures (thanks to seven years of close contact with Hagrid) he had never really thought he would ever need to contemplate meeting certain doom at the hands of. It wasn't exactly that he hadn't found them threatening, because of course he knew enough to be cautious, it was just that death wasn't exactly the first things that came to mind when thinking about them, and he had been, quite understandably, distracted by a couple of other things.
"Uh uh, Ron," his companion said cheerfully as they made their slow and steady way back across the anti-Apparation barrier and towards the softly twinkling lights that made up the slightly-dilapidated looking lodge where Ron was supposed to be staying. "And did you come upon that thought before or after you decided to coerce nothing but a bottle of Firewhiskey into accompanying you on an expedition to get friendly with the local Black Forest fauna?"
"Shut up, Harry," Ron growled, cursing softly as he stumbled over a particularly knobby tree root in the dark. "It wasn't my fault I was drunk - it was a victory party!" A slight slur still colored his words. "In fact, by all rights it was your fault for not being here to get drunk with me… bloody Ministry and their bloody Aurors…"
Harry shook his head in mock sadness. The navy blue dress robes he wore blended easily with the surrounding darkness, and his overall demeanor, silently and purposefully elegant, despite the eternally-messy mass of dark curls framing his face, was a remarkable contrast to his friend's disheveled and inebriated state. "Tut tut, mate," he sighed heavily, "is that any way to speak to your liberator?" Bright green eyes sparkled behind the rather ungainly but comfortably familiar round wire-rimmed frames. "I sure hope Hermione shows a little more appreciation for all the pains I went through to locate and fetch back her fiancé."
Ron's already pasty face suddenly became three shades paler, causing every single one of the freckles on his rather long and pointy nose to stand out clearly in the moonlight. "You aren't going to tell her, are you?" he asked desperately. "You know I've always been rubbish at Occlumency – they're Evil, Harry. I couldn't have done anything to stop them… and nothing happened, anyway... please don't tell her…" he pleaded.
They neared the cabin, and Ron was relieved to see the full extent of the teasing grin on Harry's face by the bright yellow light that shone from the windows; Harry wouldn't tell. "It was lucky I showed up when I did, and that they wasted so much time squabbling …" he said thoughtfully. "They eat their mates, you know, after they're done with them… like praying mantises - or spiders. Hermione said they always start with the testicles… would have been interesting to see if she was right."
Ron groaned, his face tinted a sickly shade of green in the gloom. "Bloody hell, and I thought you were the one who was supposed to have the high risk career… My contract specifically listed Bludgers as the biggest threat to my manhood…"
Harry laughed as he pulled open the heavy wooden door and led the way into the cheerfully warm interior of the building. Ron cursed again as he stumbling in after him.
"Bloody Veela…" he muttered.