HP: Pure-Blood Glory

"You're joking! Professor McGonagall put you on the Quidditch team? And as the Seeker!"

Ron's voice was filled with disbelief.

The steak-and-kidney pie he had been about to take another bite of froze halfway to his mouth, the first bite not even fully swallowed.

And Ron wasn't the only one reacting this way. His friend Seamus, Malfoy from a few seats away (who was clearly eavesdropping), and many other Quidditch enthusiasts nearby wore similar expressions of shock, amazement, envy, and a hint of "why not me?"

But Harry didn't give them what they were hoping for—a casual dismissal of the news as a joke.

"I'm not joking. Wood even said I'm the youngest Seeker in a century."

Harry continued shoveling food into his mouth. After all, the events of the day—chasing Neville on a broom, falling from high up, being whisked away by Professor McGonagall, and then joining the Quidditch team—had left him famished enough to feel like he could eat an entire cow.

The group of young wizards, now reconfirming the news, only seemed to grow more dumbfounded.

Luke, who had deliberately chosen to sit near Malfoy today, had been looking forward to the expression on his face.

The broken look on Malfoy's face—one that screamed, This can't be true!—satisfied him immensely.

With Luke and others frequently mingling across tables, seating had become increasingly chaotic. What had once been neatly segregated by House now resembled a scattered mix of students.

Especially Percy, who seemed to have taken every opportunity to sit at the Ravenclaw table. According to Fred and George, Percy always managed to end up near a certain girl.

This juicy tidbit was shared with Ron, who often saw Percy bristle and argue whenever the twins teased him about it, only to sheepishly return to the Ravenclaw table at the next meal.

Percy had even befriended two Ravenclaws, likely as an excuse to sit there.

While many students were still processing Harry's announcement, Fred and George came striding over to him, their faces lighting up.

"Well done, Harry!" George said in a low voice. "Welcome to the team—we're the Beaters."

"Ever since Charlie left, we haven't won a single match," Fred added, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "But this year, we're going to win—because of you, Harry. You're going to be brilliant!"

After giving Luke a friendly wave, to which he responded with a smile, the twins left, leaving Harry slightly flustered but clearly excited.

Meanwhile, the Gryffindor students broke into quiet cheers. They were proud that one of their own had made the Quidditch team—especially as the Seeker, such a critical position.

Of course, there was a touch of envy and jealousy mixed in with their celebration.

Malfoy, however, seemed lost and bewildered.

"He actually made it... But why hasn't Marcus invited me to join?"

It wasn't clear whether Malfoy was asking Luke or simply muttering to himself.

Luke didn't answer, simply giving him a consoling pat on the shoulder.

Though Harry becoming Seeker was big news for the first-years, to Luke, it was a minor development.

His plans were progressing steadily. More and more students were getting to know him, even understanding him. Outside of Hogwarts, while Luke had few direct connections, his occasional correspondence with Ollivander hinted that some in the wizarding aristocracy were already aware of his ambitions—and a few even seemed intrigued.

However, Luke was keenly aware that while many leaders had been elevated by the wizarding aristocracy, only two had ever truly made them feel they had lost control.

After all, the magical world was ultimately a place where power reigned supreme.

This meant that, sooner or later, he needed to figure out exactly what was written in the two notebooks he had obtained.

Peaceful and uneventful days passed for a while, and before long, another half month had slipped by.

The last page of September was torn from the calendar, revealing the first glimpse of October.

Luke glanced at the strange egg in his system inventory, noting that its hatching date was drawing ever closer. A look of anticipation appeared on his face.

"Just five days left... I wonder what the system will surprise me with"

He muttered to himself as he studied the weirdly patterned egg.

After speaking, Luke didn't dwell on it further. Booker, was still missing as always. Despite owning the cat, he rarely needed to feed it himself.

Occasionally, he'd see Taylor or Hermione cuddling Booker. Today, if he remembered correctly, it was Gemma who had been holding Booker during dinner.

Given this, Luke found it hard to muster any real enthusiasm for pets anymore.

As he was about to turn on the faucet to wash his face, something unexpected happened.

A small snake suddenly slithered out of the faucet. It raised the front half of its body and, with what appeared to be great effort, bowed its head toward Luke in a gesture of respect.

Startled for a moment, Luke quickly regained his composure and extended his hand toward the little snake.

The snake slithered up his fingers and coiled itself in his palm.

"Your Highness, there's activity in the Forbidden Forest. It seems someone is hunting magical creatures"

The snake hissed, its words translating clearly in Luke's ears.

"Understood"

Luke replied with a nod, placing the snake back on the sink.

The snake bowed again before slipping back into the drain.

Luke's expression turned serious.

Logically speaking, this wasn't something he was obligated to intervene in. But as the situation unfolded, he realized he couldn't resist the urge to take a look.

Whether it was from what he had seen in the films or from his own imagination, the image of Voldemort preying on unicorns was vile and repugnant.

But some things had to be witnessed firsthand. More importantly, if the opportunity arose, Luke wanted to test Voldemort's current level of power.

At the very least, he needed to gauge Voldemort's strength. If Voldemort proved too strong to handle, Luke could always rally reinforcements. If not, he'd do everything he could to weaken him.

After all, Voldemort was undoubtedly an obstacle in Luke's path to achieving his ideals.

Creating the right kind of trouble for the Dark Lord at the right time and place was an appealing idea.

Luke brushed his fingers over the ancient wand hidden in his sleeve.

He wasn't entirely unprepared. Quite the opposite—he was eager to test the unique properties of this wand and see how much of an advantage it could provide.

And what better test subject could there be than a half-dead, noseless monstrosity?

*****

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