NOVEL WEB Chapter 31: The Freezing Trap
"Shit. Knew it," Draco muttered as a fat drop of poison splashed near his boot. Another followed. Then another.
He glanced up slowly.
"Well, well... guess it really was a trap."
Good thing he'd already cast Protego before stepping in. Paranoia wasn't always a bad thing.
He let out a breath, not scared, just mildly annoyed.
"Smart bastards," he muttered, eyes scanning the trees. "Even the baby ones have brains."
The stillness in the air, that unnatural silence? It had screamed ambush the moment he stepped into the clearing. But he played along. Sometimes, letting them think they had the upper hand was the fastest way to expose the truth.
And yeah, looked like he was right.
Honestly? He didn't even blame them. If he were Aragog and someone was hunting his kids, he'd pull the same move. Send out bait. Look vulnerable. Set the trap.
Only difference?
This bait had fangs too.
"You know," Draco called out, his wand loose in hand, "I almost respect the play. But you picked the wrong wizard to mess with."
The branches rustled above. A chorus of faint clicks echoed through the trees. The spiders were getting restless.
With a flick of his wrist, a flurry of ice shards formed in the air around him. A second wave turned them to dust, mist rolling out low and wide, blanketing the ground in fog and cold.
The chittering paused.
They felt the temperature shift.
Even tough magical creatures like Acromantulas weren't immune to the cold. Slower movements. Duller reflexes. Not enough to stop them, but enough to tilt the odds.
Still, they weren't ordinary creatures. Not stupid.
The fog made it hard to see, even with their eight eyes. But they could still hear.
Skittering. Movement. Crunch of leaves. They zeroed in and lunged toward the sound.
Through the mist, they saw him. Draco, just standing there, grinning like he didn't have a care in the world.
They hated that grin. It reminded them of someone. A half-giant who used to visit their grandfather. But this one… this one was different.
He didn't move. Didn't flinch. Just stood there, hands in his cloak, staring.
Easy prey.
Stupid wizard.
They lunged.
Fangs struck flesh.
Chhhk. A strange sound. Not blood. Not bone.
Their fangs cracked ice.
The "Draco" they bit into shattered. An ice clone. Sharp shards exploded outward in a freezing blast, catching every spider in the radius.
Shrieking.
Legs flailing.
Frozen solid in seconds.
And that was only the first one.
The same thing happened again. And again. Two more clones. Two more ambushes.
By the time they realised what was happening… it was already too late.
Above them, the real Draco stood casually on a thick tree branch, arms folded.
"You were expecting some scared student?" he called down, voice echoing in the clearing. "Cute."
He jumped down as the last few spiders scrambled back, slipping on ice, too disoriented to regroup.
His wand twitched.
"Glacius Maxima."
A final wave of freezing mist burst across the clearing like a tidal wave, coating everything in a thick layer of ice.
Silence.
Only the sound of frost crackling and the faint hiss of frozen leaves shifting in the breeze.
Draco exhaled, brushing a few lingering snowflakes off his sleeve.
"Too much attention now," he said under his breath. "I'll let things cool off."
This little ambush would stir things up. Too much movement, too much noise. The last thing he needed was a bunch of nosy centaurs or curious Aurors poking around the forest.
Jumping down from the tree branch, he landed with a quiet thud, boots crunching against frost-covered leaves.
The clearing was still a mess of ice and frozen spider limbs. He moved quickly, wand in hand, shattering the frost around each of the immobilised Acromantulas, just enough to free them without damaging anything useful. Their venom, their fangs… even their chitin had value.
With practiced efficiency, he pulled out a small extension pouch, tapping it open.
One by one, he levitated the frozen spiders inside.
As he sealed the pouch and slung it back onto his belt, Draco glanced toward the treeline. The mist was still hanging low, clinging to the ground like lazy fog, but the wind was starting to carry it off, little by little.
"Still better than fire," he muttered, his breath misting in the chill air. "No sense roasting the whole forest just for a few spiders."
This wasn't just a hunt. It was training.
Spells weren't meant to be memorised and neatly recited like in textbooks. They were meant to be thrown under pressure, shaped mid-duel, adapted when your opponent did something utterly insane.
"I should leave," Draco muttered to himself, already turning on his heel.
He pulled out the worn parchment, tapped it with his wand, and whispered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
Ink unfurled like smoke across the surface of the Marauder's Map.
"Oh… the path's clear."
He gave a satisfied nod, tapped it again to wipe it clean, and slid the map back into his cloak.
No time to waste. He moved quickly now, quiet but fast, his boots muffled against the damp forest floor. The last thing he needed was to get caught by a nosy professor or, worse, Filch's mangy cat sniffing around the gates.
This was enough for one night.
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Some subordinates suggestion (magical/normal)