Erwin knew the path through the Forbidden Forest like the back of his hand. He'd prepared a slab of ham to lure an Acromantula—those gluttonous beasts would never turn it down. No doubt, he'd snag a perfect test subject for his new spell.
But the next moment, disaster struck. The Acromantula spun around and bolted, vanishing into the underbrush at an astonishing speed. Erwin froze for a second, then blinked in disbelief.
"Bloody hell? It got away?"
He realized too late: the creature must have seen him trick one of its kin earlier. No witnesses next time when pulling off a scheme. This made things tricky for round two.
With a wave of his hand, Erwin stowed the ham. No sense wasting good bait—it wasn't cheap.
"You think a bit of ham will save you, you monster? Where do you think you're going?"
He swayed forward, a puff of purple smoke erupting around him as he Apparated in pursuit, hurtling deeper into the forest.
By the time he'd finished his taunt, the Acromantula was a distant shadow. Erwin pressed on, the chase leading him to a clearing. He touched down lightly, the smoke dissipating behind him.
Spiderwebs draped the trees like grim decorations, and massive holes scarred the trunks. Recognition dawned—this was the Acromantulas' lair from the stories. Aragog's domain.
From one of those holes, a colossal Acromantula emerged, far larger than the others. Erwin knew it instantly: Aragog himself.
Aragog scuttled forward, his kin pouring from nearby burrows until Erwin was encircled by the chittering horde.
"Little wizard," Aragog rasped, "this is no place for you. Why have you come?"
Erwin raised a hand to gesture at his escaped quarry, but paused—every one of these blasted spiders looked identical. No helping it.
"I'm testing a new spell," he said evenly. "I was in the thick of it when that Acromantula fled. Mind lending me one of your lot to finish the job?"
Aragog went still, his multiple eyes narrowing. The idea was absurd to him—an intelligent creature, yes, but this? Demanding a tribesman as a guinea pig in front of the whole colony? This young wizard treated them like pests. Acromantulas were XXXXX-class magical creatures, not lab rats. Had the world gone mad?
Before Aragog could muster a reply, Erwin added casually, "Oh, and one more thing—some venom, if you please."
He flipped his hand, and a stack of metal buckets clattered to the ground. Prepared in advance, of course. Erwin had heard the Forbidden Forest teemed with Acromantulas, and their venom fetched a fortune on the black market. A savvy opportunist like him wouldn't pass up the chance to turn a profit.
Aragog's voice dripped with fury. "Young wizard, you've crossed a line! I swore to Hagrid I'd spare humans. Leave now, and I'll forget this insult. Stay, and even a Hogwarts student won't leave alive!"
Erwin waved dismissively. "Come on, no need to get hot under the thorax. I'm being reasonable here. Just one for the test, a bit of venom, and I'm gone. Truth is, this place reeks anyway—I'd rather not linger."
Aragog paced, his legs scraping the earth. "Insolent fool! You've asked for it. My kin haven't tasted fresh meat in ages. If you won't go, you'll feed them instead—even if it's just a morsel!"
With that, the Acromantulas surged, their fangs glinting hungrily as they closed in.
Erwin sighed. "See? I try to be civil, and you lot go all beastly."
He flicked his wrist, and two grenades materialized in his palms. Against a swarm like this, spells were inefficient—too much magic wasted, and he lacked any real crowd-control charms anyway.
Aragog eyed the odd metal orbs and snorted. "What, fighting with toys? Don't you young wizards carry wands anymore?"
Erwin shook his head. Ignorant beast—and ugly to boot. Nothing like the elegant giant spiders from wizarding folklore; Western myths clearly drew the short straw.
Without a word, he yanked the pins and lobbed the grenades. They bounced once, twice, then exploded in deafening roars. Shrapnel tore through the air.
Erwin, ever cautious, had already cast Protego around himself. Better safe than splattered—accidents cost more than they saved.
The nearest Acromantula shredded into fragments, venom sacs bursting in a wasteful spray. Erwin winced inwardly. What a shame—there went a prime venom source.
Aragog recoiled, flames from the blasts flickering in his eyes. Fire commanded primal fear in all creatures.
"What sorcery is this? Some new wizarding contraption?"
Erwin smirked. "You uncultured beast—where's your sense? Here, try a couple more on for size."
He hurled another pair. Twin explosions ripped through the pack, scattering limbs and silk.
Erwin rubbed his chin. Effective, but too slow. Not nearly enough.
Aragog cowered behind his remaining brood, stammering. But before he could rally, something far more ominous appeared before Erwin: a bulky, rotating-barreled machine, mounted on a sturdy tripod, flanked by protective shields.
Erwin positioned himself behind it with a grin. "Behold, my dear magical pest—The M134 Minigun. Or as I like to call it, Old Painless. Took some doing to acquire this beauty. Without the mount, I'd be spinning in circles myself!"
...