HP: Pure-Blood Glory

Seeing Hermione's gaze turn vacant and her mouth remain open, Luke immediately gave Doris a light smack.

Doris let out an indignant little whimper, then straightened her body and gave Luke's forehead two firm but harmless headbutts. Finally, as if throwing a tiny tantrum, she slithered back into his inner pocket and even used her tail to fasten the pocket's button.

Before disappearing entirely, she peeked her head out one last time, flicked her tongue at Luke in what seemed like a gesture of defiance, and then retreated again.

Her antics left Luke both amused and exasperated.

Hermione, on the other hand, didn't find Doris cute or endearing in the slightest. As she regained her senses, beads of sweat formed on her forehead, and her breathing became noticeably heavier. Her wide, fearful eyes remained fixed on Luke's pocket, her face pale.

"Relax, relax. She didn't mean any harm, though I'd recommend referring to her as 'she' or calling her Doris directly next time."

Luke sighed internally, realizing Doris seemed surprisingly sensitive to being called "it." With her intelligence and personality, perhaps the usual pronouns didn't feel right.

As for the claim of no ill intent, it was the truth—if Doris had meant harm, Hermione wouldn't have been left merely slowed down. The effects could have escalated to petrification or worse, instant death from her gaze.

Hermione finally calmed herself enough to speak, her voice laced with a mixture of curiosity, and lingering fear. "What... what is 'she'?"

Her tone betrayed not only intrigue but also a trace of fear.

Her gaze at Luke was complicated—clearly, her thoughts had taken a chaotic turn. She had genuinely felt despair and terror just moments ago.

Keeping such a dangerous magical creature at school seemed excessive, even reckless.

Luke could tell what she was thinking but he hadn't anticipated this kind of conflict between Hermione and Doris. So he could only try to explain:

"Doris is a basilisk—but she's a very unusual basilisk. Honestly, I don't even think she's just a basilisk."

"So, what exactly is she? I'd like to know that myself," Luke admitted with a shrug. "But don't worry—she's really well-behaved. Truly."

Luke knew his explanation wasn't entirely convincing, but he didn't have much else to offer. After all, he couldn't exactly say, 'The fact that you're still alive proves how obedient she is.' That would only make things worse.

He sighed and added, "This was just an accident. I'll make sure to discipline her properly."

At that, his pocket gave a subtle wiggle, but fortunately, Doris didn't cause any further trouble.

Hermione finally exhaled deeply, her demeanor softening a little. She realized that sharing something like this was no small matter. Even at her young age, she understood that only true friends would reveal something so significant.

She looked at Luke with slightly changed eyes. Despite the unusual delivery, she appreciated that he had trusted her enough to share this secret.

"As far as I can remember... basilisks are considered one of the most dangerous magical creatures," she said hesitantly.

Hermione wasn't particularly interested in magical creatures in general, so she only had a vague idea of what basilisks were.

"They are, yes. Incredibly dangerous," Luke replied, nodding. "But there's already one at the school."

That statement left Hermione stunned. Already one at the school? What did that even mean?

Before she could press further, Luke simply said, "You'll find out eventually."

Hermione assumed that Luke would tell her more when he was ready, entirely unaware that in the original timeline, she herself would come face-to-face with that basilisk.

"So, you're looking for clues about Doris?"

Hermione asked again. But before Luke could answer, she continued, as if answering her own question, "Then you should probably check the bookshelves to the eastern side. But if it's related to basilisks… you might have to ask Professor McGonagall for a note."

"I know, in fact, when it comes to basilisks, there aren't many people who know more about them than I do," Luke was not boasting, but just stating the facts. "Except maybe the creator of the species, our family is likely the most knowledgeable about them. Still, the secrets behind basilisks are puzzling."

"After all, the method of their creation is… well, let's just say it's bizarre, even for the wizarding world."

A rooster over seven years old lays a magical egg under the Dog Star, and it is hatched by a toad.

In the wizarding world, while not common, this isn't impossible. Most Hogwarts professors could manage it, given the right conditions.

Even Hagrid, who had a soft spot for magical creatures, could probably do it. That said, even Hagrid would steer clear of such a dangerous and relatively unfeeling creature.

Hermione, unfamiliar with the details of basilisk lore, refrained from adding to the discussion and simply nodded.

"You can do it, I'm sure"

She had always believed in Luke. Besides, Luke excelled in nearly every subject, often far surpassing her. She didn't think she could offer any insights in his areas of expertise.

Luke nodded in return and added, "Keep an eye on Harry and Ron for me, would you? Those two seem determined to stir up trouble again."

Hearing the names 'Harry' and 'Ron,' Hermione couldn't help but feel a headache coming on. In her eyes, the duo were the kings of losing house points—troublemakers and distractions.

Useful tasks? Never. Trouble? Always. So far, Gryffindor's point losses were primarily thanks to those two.

The rest was due to the twins and Lee Jordan.

Hermione couldn't do much about them except shoot disapproving glares and refuse to indulge their antics.

Now that Luke had assigned her this task, she felt a little conflicted. She could hardly stand the sight of those two lately, let alone take responsibility for keeping them in line.

Especially when she thought of her dormmates, most of whom found Ron charming or admired Harry. Hermione often felt like the odd one out in these conversations.

This thought made her glance at Luke. She couldn't help but notice his strikingly handsome face, feeling a touch of resignation.

When it came to Harry, she and her dormmates had their disagreements. But when it came to Luke? There were none.

Good looks, great family, charming personality, extraordinary talent, and excellent social skills.

Luke was so exceptional that her dormmates didn't even dare to approach him.

Hermione, however, was an exception. Her relationship with Luke was visibly close, a fact not lost on anyone.

Sometimes, Hermione couldn't help but feel that her occasional sense of alienation from her peers might have something to do with her closeness to Luke.

It wasn't fair to blame him, but the thought crossed her mind regardless.

"Fine, I'll keep an eye on them, but you owe me a Transfiguration tutoring session this weekend."

Hermione agreed, but not without setting her own terms.

"No problem, leave it to me"

Luke replied readily, accepting the condition without hesitation. He understood well that Hermione wasn't his subordinate—not yet.

She was one of the people he intended to win over for the future.

At this stage, their relationship couldn't be one of command and obedience. Moreover, Luke respected Hermione as a worthy friend, someone whose potential was worth nurturing.

After quickly explaining to her, Luke entrusted Hermione with keeping an eye on Harry and Ron—two troublemakers whose knack for inadvertently creating chaos made him uneasy.

On the surface, he acted as though he didn't care. But behind the scenes, he made sure someone reliable was watching them. Truthfully, Luke dreaded the thought of Harry and Ron springing some big, unexpected "news" on everyone.

Especially when it was outside of his control.

The two left the library together just in time for their next class. Unfortunately, it was Potions—a subject Luke didn't particularly enjoy, though Hermione quite liked it.

After all, Potions was one of the few classes where she could consistently outperform Luke.

Still, even in this class, the spotlight often landed elsewhere...

"Five points to Slytherin!"

"Well done, Taylor!" Snape smiled in satisfaction as he looked at the potion that Taylor had brewed, which was obviously beyond the standard curriculum. Although the smile was a bit stiff and not pleasing, it was undoubtedly a smile.

Taylor returned a shy smile, unfazed by the envious stares of the other students.

In this year's first-year batch, several students stood out in various subjects: Luke in Transfiguration, Hermione in History of Magic, Neville in Herbology, Taylor in Potions, and Harry in Flying.

But of all these talents, only a few reached a level of excellence that left others in the dust—namely Luke's Transfiguration, Taylor's Potions, and Harry's Flying.

Snape looked at Taylor with obvious satisfaction before casting a cold glance at Luke. With a derisive snort, he turned and walked toward Harry, clearly intent on making the boy's life difficult.

Snape knew full well that Taylor often guided Luke during Potions class. He didn't bother interfering, choosing instead to let it be.

Though Luke was hardly impressive in Potions—content to paddle through the class—Taylor, a prodigiously talented student, openly respected him.

Most of the students interpreted this as mere camaraderie, but the professors could see the subtle difference in hierarchy between them.

Snape, naturally, disliked this dynamic, but he had no grounds to interfere. Choosing to ignore it was the best he could do.

Once Snape moved on, Taylor leaned over to help Luke with the potion assigned for that lesson.

Today's task was to practice ingredient synergy, brewing a cold remedy using an astonishing 74 ingredients—not rare but incredibly intricate to combine.

The sequence of additions, the timing, and the specific handling of each ingredient required precision. Yet, despite the effort involved, the result was a potion with a singularly mundane purpose: curing the common cold.

Clearly, it had no commercial value. But as a teaching tool, it was perfect for honing the students' skills.

It was unclear whether Snape had found this strange potion formula in some obscure book or come up with it himself.

Regardless of the source, the effort he put into it showed that, though he'd never admit it, Snape was ultimately a very dedicated professor.

"Here, this is for you"

Luke said, watching Snape walk away. He reached into his belt and pulled out a small potion vial, which still had a shallow layer of liquid at the bottom.

Taylor accepted the bottle, her curiosity piqued. "What's this?"

She didn't question why there was so little left.

In fact, Luke hadn't anticipated how potent this potion could be, he almost didn't get the chance to even keep it back.

If he'd rolled over in his sleep, there might not have been any left at all.

"It's a potion Dumbledore gave me. I don't know exactly what it is, but it seems to replenish mental energy"

Luke replied calmly, speaking as he added ingredients to his cauldron.

While his skill with the spells used to stabilize potions was lacking, Luke had no trouble memorizing brewing methods. He was confident he could successfully make this potion within three attempts.

As Luke worked, Taylor opened the potion vial, wafting some of its scent toward her nose. Almost immediately, she felt rejuvenated, as if a fog had lifted from her mind. A sense of lightness, almost euphoric, washed over her.

But she quickly snapped back to reality and, mindful of the precious aroma escaping, closed the bottle tightly.

Glancing at Luke, who was intently focused on his brewing, Taylor said honestly, "I've never encountered a potion like this. It's fascinating. Just from the smell, I can't figure out its ingredients."

She examined the nearly empty bottle and added, "And there's barely enough left to drink, so it'd be impossible to analyze it properly."

Potion-making was inherently complex, and seasoned potion masters often added trace ingredients that didn't affect the efficacy but altered the taste or scent.

Making it harder for others to replicate their work.

"Don't worry. I'll just ask Dumbledore for another bottle later"

Luke said nonchalantly.

Taylor blinked, momentarily stunned, before instinctively raising her hand to swat at him. However, seeing that Luke's potion was at a critical stage, she refrained. Words were one thing, but disrupting his rhythm or actions was unacceptable.

Watching Luke, sweat glistening on his forehead from the heat of the fire and his expression taut with concentration, Taylor couldn't help but smile.

Luke always seemed so composed and in control. Despite being only eleven, he carried himself with the maturity and reliability of an adult. While he never flaunted his noble status among his peers, his manners and refined habits—whether in dining or etiquette—were far more pronounced than even Malfoy's.

Where Malfoy constantly tried to project the image of a noble heir, Luke's nobility was apparent only in moments when he reminded everyone, subtly but unmistakably, of his upbringing.

Seeing Luke so focused and tense was a rare sight. But Taylor understood—he wasn't overly concerned about the potion itself; he simply hated leaving such an obvious weakness in his skillset. Even if he lacked natural talent in this area, Luke was determined to make up for it with effort.

Giving up wasn't in his nature.

Taylor's smile softened, but her gaze shifted when she caught sight of someone moving suspiciously toward them out of the corner of her eye.

*****

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