Ron POV

When Sirius said that there was a Boggart that needed dealing with, Ron immediately volunteered.

He wasn't fancying dealing with a spider that much, but to be honest, ever since seeing Harry coming out of the maze clutching Cedric's dead body, his fear had seemed-well, redundant. So Ron figured that it wouldn't be too bad now.

And there was no way he was going to let Harry near a Boggart, no matter how good he was at dealing with them. Ron marveled at his friend's resilience. People didn't know, but the most surreal thing about Harry wasn't his scar. It was how he kept coping so well, year after year, with all the trouble that happened to him.

"So why did you shield Harry and Hermione like that in there?" Sirius asked. Ron was startled out of his stupor and looked guiltily at Sirius.

He grinned. "Come on, kid. We didn't need life-threatening situations to get into trouble, you know. I can read you from a mile away."

Ron grimaced, and ran his hand through his hair self-consciously. "Well, Harry doesn't need more trouble, not after what happened last year. And Hermione, well...it's embarrassing."

Sirius' grin became even more rakish ."So that is why she didn't object when you said you were done with your Potions essay and she still needed to work on hers. Figures"

Ron gave him a pointed look, but said nothing.

Then Sirius became more serious. A brooding sort of look came on his face. "But thanks kid. I don't want Harry to see mine. I was hoping you or Hermione would volunteer..." Then he suddenly straightened up and looked at Ron intently.

"But, enough about me. What's yours?"

If Ron noticed the sudden change in topic, he didn't comment.

"I guess it began when i was five. Fred and George had turned my teddy bear into a spider, so.." he rambled on, "...any way, I think it isn't as bad now," he finished.

Sirius nodded in understanding, but didn't say anything. A while later, they reached the place. It was a dark wardrobe, posh but old and weathered. It shook violently, and a rotting sort of smell came from it. Ron's nerves became more shaky, but he clamped down on his fear and swallowed once, before turning to Sirius.

"Stand back, I'll open the wardrobe," he commanded. When Sirius looked as if he might protest, he cut him off-"It isn't about bravery,
you spent 13 years in Azkaban for something you didn't do. If we can avoid it getting to you, we will."

Ron stepped forward quickly, in case Sirius did something rash, and opened the door to the wardrobe, hoping that he could get over with it quickly.

But then, the rotting smell intensified. Two dark shapes tumbled out and lay at Ron's feet in a huddle.

Ron's breath caught in his throat, and he felt like throwing up, when he saw what the shapes were.

These were definitely not spiders.