HP: Pure-Blood Glory

Luke never expected Gemma to bring this up. It was something he truly hadn't known at all.

For a moment, he felt a surge of gratitude. Without Gemma's reminder, he would have likely been caught off guard tomorrow and forced to improvise. While he was confident he could handle the situation well, there was a significant difference between being ambushed and being prepared.

Looking at Gemma now, Luke's expression remained composed, but Gemma could still detect a glimmer of admiration in his eyes.

Initially, when Luke considered bringing Gemma under his wing, his plan had been to have her manage external matters, confident that he could handle the minor conflicts within the school himself.

After all, Hogwarts was one of the safest places for an ordinary student. The drama in the original story was largely due to the extraordinary circumstances surrounding Harry and his friends.

Put simply, if Harry hadn't been at Hogwarts but elsewhere—even at the Ministry of Magic—he wouldn't have survived to adulthood.

As long as Dumbledore was present, Luke wasn't worried about anyone targeting him over political differences.

Even if someone disapproved of him, Luke was just an 11-year-old child. It was unlikely a group of adults would consider him a significant threat.

Of course, if they ever stopped viewing Luke as a child, that would mark the beginning of serious conflict.

With Gemma now in the picture, Luke had come to appreciate the importance of information.

Although his gaze was fixed on Gemma, he had silently resolved to make another decision.

Meanwhile, Hermione was watching the interaction between Luke and Gemma, unsure how to react.

She understood every word they said, yet she couldn't fathom why such a conversation was happening at their table.

Her expression grew increasingly puzzled as she observed Luke.

Luke responded with a faint smile, saying, "Just listen for now. If you're interested, feel free to share your own thoughts."

He believed Hermione was a bright girl. If she wasn't interested, he wouldn't push her; nothing in their conversation was off-limits.

If she was curious, she was welcome to join in.

After hearing Luke's words, Hermione, only 11 years old and somewhat bewildered despite understanding bits of the conversation, simply nodded and returned to eating.

Before Luke could resume speaking with Gemma, he noticed Hermione glance up and shoot him a sharp look.

"Is he planning to humiliate you based on your flying skills? After all, your flying isn't as good as Harry's," Hermione blurted out.

As soon as the words left her mouth, Hermione regretted them. It sounded like she was implying Luke was inferior to Harry.

Still, she stubbornly held her ground, unwilling to take it back.

Luke didn't mind her attitude. He simply nodded and said, "That's likely the case. Perhaps he'll try a few other little tricks. But nothing worth worrying about. After all... we're just kids, aren't we?"

A cold smile played at the corner of Luke's mouth.

He had experienced much in his past life, and this kind of scheming almost felt nostalgic.

However, the fleeting sense of amusement vanished quickly, replaced by a self-deprecating chuckle.

What was he thinking? Even if something did happen tomorrow, it wouldn't be anything like the deadly clashes between adults.

"Thank you, Hermione"

Luke solemnly expressed his gratitude to Hermione. She was different from the other two.

Gemma, though not particularly old, was naturally knowledgeable due to her keen interest in such matters.

Taylor, on the other hand, had been through many hardships from a young age. She had no choice but to understand these things. Moreover, as a Legilimens, some information was practically unguarded against her abilities.

Only Hermione truly reflected the thoughts of a typical Hogwarts student.

As he contemplated this, Luke cast a meaningful glance at Gemma. She met his gaze with a subtle, unchanged smile. Seeing his attention, her smile even brightened slightly.

Luke understood—the probing had begun.

"Don't worry, I'll be prepared"

With that, he smiled faintly and resumed his meal.

Hermione, for a fleeting moment, thought she caught a hint of anticipation in Luke's expression.

---

The Next Day

It was a day off, and Luke originally planned to accompany Hagrid into the Forbidden Forest in the afternoon to explore and observe magical creatures. However, he could only apologize to Hagrid; today's events at the Quidditch pitch held a certain allure for him.

In the afternoon, Draco Malfoy eagerly dragged Luke to the Quidditch field.

As Luke scanned the area, he noticed a decent number of spectators in the stands, but all were from Slytherin. While relations among the four houses had softened compared to the past.

They still weren't close enough to invite rival houses to watch their internal team matches. After all, everyone remained direct competitors.

If Luke wanted to unite the houses in this aspect, he'd need to introduce an external threat to rally them. Quidditch, being a direct competition, was far less tempered than the house divisions themselves.

But Luke had no such intentions.

After leading Luke to the pitch, Malfoy rushed off to the changing room to don his gear. They had arrived rather late, as Luke's leisurely pace along the way had left Malfoy exasperated.

On the field, many students were already flying on broomsticks, tossing Quaffles around to warm up.

Others were racing each other, testing their flying skills.

The number of participants exceeded the usual 14 players, with around 20 people on the field. Clearly, some who were neither official players nor reserves had joined in for the fun.

Yet, there wasn't a single first-year student in sight.

Well, until now. Malfoy had mounted his broom and flown over to Marcus Flint.

From the moment Luke entered the field, he had felt Marcus's eyes on him. Being the one who had insisted on inviting Luke, Marcus naturally paid him close attention.

At the same time, Luke noticed another gaze fixated on him as he stepped onto the pitch.

Following the direction of the stare, he spotted a tall Slytherin in the team's uniform, with short light brown hair and a strong, almost chiseled face. However, his thin lips softened the rugged impression.

Luke had already learned from Malfoy that this was Oliver Nott, heir to the Nott family.

When discussing Nott, Malfoy had generously shared various trivial details about him.

While most were inconsequential, a few points caught Luke's attention.

Luke smiled slightly at the stern-faced Nott, then turned and headed toward the stands.

Oliver Nott gazed at Luke's distant figure, his mind far from at ease.

From Luke's faint smile earlier, it seemed possible that the boy already had some inkling of what was planned for today. While he likely couldn't know the specifics, he probably understood that a confrontation was imminent.

Still, Oliver wasn't overly concerned. Today's probe wasn't even his own idea—it stemmed from a letter from his father.

The letter had mentioned Luke Gaunt, instructing Oliver to test the waters carefully.

"...The Gaunt family, though it has been in decline for generations, must never be underestimated. No matter who they are, you must approach them with caution and restraint. Even if it's an 11-year-old child. Listen carefully—be both meticulous and measured. Do not overstep, but neither should you fall short."

Recalling his father's closing words, Oliver felt a wave of helplessness. He had no idea why his father was so wary, after all, the one standing on the field was just a first-year kid.

Sure, the boy had delivered a speech that sounded eerily like a political declaration, but who could take the words of a child seriously?

Oliver thought back to himself at 11—he hadn't possessed any such skill and doubted Luke Gaunt was particularly remarkable either.

Yet, since his father had issued such a warning, Oliver wouldn't take any chances.

His gaze shifted to Marcus Flint, who wasn't far off.

Marcus, noticing Oliver looking at him, bared his large protruding teeth in a sneer, letting out a snort. He resembled a gorilla ready to snatch a banana.

Oliver couldn't be bothered to respond. He figured this brat must have received similar instructions from his own family elders.

The Sacred Twenty-Eight families often lacked harmony and loyalty. They were far from a united front where one's success meant glory for all, and one's downfall spelled doom for all. However, they maintained a surface-level civility, knowing full well that while pure-blood wizards were noble, they could no longer afford the arrogance of the past.

The last time they gambled and lost, they had paid a steep price. Though the Ministry of Magic was still largely controlled by noble bloodlines, many positions had been ceded to more "ordinary" pure-blood wizards.

Thus, while the Sacred Twenty-Eight families remained wary of one another, they also sought mutual support.

Infighting and deadly sabotage were not as common as before.

Many families had been significantly weakened in the aftermath of the war.

For instance, the Gaunt family was on the verge of extinction before this unexpected heir appeared. The Black family wasn't much better—nearly extinct in all but name.

The Lestranges? A family of lunatics.

These three families were once pillars of pure-blood supremacy, but as their influence waned, it left families like the Notts to fill the role of extremists.

The sudden emergence of Luke Gaunt had sparked a wave of interest. Many wanted to probe his intentions, while others chose to sit back and observe.

The Gaunt name, while not the most prestigious among pure-bloods, was undoubtedly one of its leaders.

Rumors of Luke's extraordinary intelligence abounded, but Oliver knew better than to trust second-hand accounts, let alone baseless gossip.

Sweeping his gaze across the stands, he spotted several familiar faces among the crowd.

The sight left Oliver feeling a dull ache in his teeth.

He couldn't understand why his father insisted on being the one to stick his neck out.

At this moment, Luke was already seated between Gemma and Taylor. Hermione, being a Gryffindor, was naturally curious about the spectacle today and what might transpire, but ultimately, she had no say in the matter.

A seventh-year student, noticing Luke sitting so casually beside Gemma, looked visibly displeased and started to get up to say something.

However, before he could rise, Gemma handed Luke a box of large cherries, her face adorned with a gentle, almost unfamiliar smile.

The older student paused mid-motion, momentarily dazed, before being tugged back into his seat by a companion who had noticed his reaction.

Luke, meanwhile, rolled his eyes helplessly while chewing on the cherries.

Taylor covered her mouth to stifle a laugh, while Gemma looked completely at ease, even showing a hint of relief.

Finally, peace at last.

"Isn't just one box of cherries a little stingy for using me as a shield?"

Luke remarked, stuffing another cherry into his mouth with an exaggerated air of dissatisfaction.

"oh, one isn't enough?"

Gemma asked with an amused chuckle.

Luke didn't respond, only nodding earnestly.

"Fine, fine. So stingy of me. I'll get you another box later"

Gemma replied, shaking her head in exasperation as she handed a second box of cherries to Taylor, who accepted it without hesitation.

Luke smiled faintly. He didn't mind being used as a shield—it wasn't like anyone would take it too seriously at his age. Still, he wondered how long his role as an age-gap decoy would last.

Probably not even through the duration of the match.

Not that Gemma would care. Her actions weren't just about demonstrating her closeness to Luke; they were also sending a message to others.

As she had mentioned before, plenty of people had their eyes on her.

"What kind of preparations have you made?"

Gemma asked curiously. The moment she spoke, Taylor retrieved a silencing orb from her pocket.

Noticing the swift motion, Gemma shot Taylor a brief, surprised glance before refocusing on Luke.

Luke, unconcerned, continued eating as he replied between bites, "Not much. I just did a bit of homework on the person in question and thought of some potential excuses he might use to trip me up."

"Even with preparations, though, I can't let my guard down. Being ready to adapt on the fly is just as important."

Gemma nodded approvingly, looking at Luke's calm demeanor, which lacked any trace of arrogance. She couldn't help but reflect.

Some people seemed destined for greatness even at 11 years old, while others remained immature and clueless well into their thirties.

The difference between individuals, truly, could be greater than the difference between man and beast.

Luke didn't stop there, continuing, "Besides, there are plenty of people watching me today."

"You were both right about what you said yesterday, but there's one thing you didn't consider."

"I carry the Gaunt name. No matter what I aim to do, there will always be someone willing to ally with me. After all, while these families have big reputation, their actual holdings are quite modest. Gambling on an alliance or a bet isn't uncommon."

"Surely you don't actually think the Sacred Twenty-Eight are all living lives of pampered luxury, do you?"

*****

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