Baiting the Hook

Blaise's face instantly flushed red when he heard those words. It was as awkward as having his underwear stripped off in public.

He glared furiously at the person who had spoken, but before his rebuke and curses could leave his mouth, the anger in his heart was mostly doused as though someone had thrown a basin of cold water over him.

There was no other reason. Everyone knew the person who had spoken.

Malfoy looked at Blaise's expression as though he had swallowed a fly, the corner of his mouth curling into a mocking sneer.

At the same time, he quietly breathed a sigh of relief. Ever since boarding the Hogwarts Express, the results of every action he took had mostly been the opposite of what he had wanted or expected.

He had wanted to be friends with Harry, only to fail at that and successfully become his enemy instead. He had wanted to reason with Luke, but Luke had dropped several grand accusations on him and left him utterly bewildered, forcing him to retreat in embarrassment. He had also wanted to become the center of attention at the Sorting Ceremony, but Luke and Harry had stolen every bit of his limelight.

Finally, when he mocked someone today, he had at last encountered someone like those from before—someone who did not dare talk back.

With that thought, Malfoy suddenly found this fellow named Blaise somewhat more pleasing to the eye.

Professor McGonagall, who had been keeping an eye on Luke, could not help frowning.

"Severus, there seems to be trouble at your table again. Can't they settle down for once?"

At that moment, Snape was staring intently at Harry at the Gryffindor table, utterly captivated by his eyes.

Only when Professor McGonagall's frown deepened did Snape speak. "If that little one from the Gaunt Family cannot handle it, I will."

Snape turned his head and gave Professor McGonagall a meaningful look. "From now on, I will try to interfere with the students less. Let them handle some minor matters themselves."

He placed particular emphasis on the words "minor matters."

Professor McGonagall pondered for a moment, then glanced at Dumbledore, who was wolfing down food without much regard for appearances.

Dumbledore noticed Professor McGonagall's gaze and smiled at her. "Minerva, your suggestion is absolutely correct. We really should add more Chinese food to the menu."

He pointed at the food on his plate. "This is called dumplings, right? They are truly delicious. Do you think we should send a few House-elves to the East specifically to learn about their cuisine?"

Before Professor McGonagall could speak, Hagrid, who was happily gnawing on a beggar's chicken, gave Dumbledore a thumbs-up with his greasy hand. "I think that's very necessary, Professor!"

Professor McGonagall shook her head helplessly. She then looked toward Luke again and noticed that Professor Quirrell, with his head wrapped in a turban, also seemed to be watching Luke.

That made her frown instinctively, but she truly could not think of any reason Quirrell would bear Luke ill will. So she could only stop overthinking it and focus on Luke, waiting to see how he would deal with this minor matter.

"You! You're insulting the Zabini family!"

After holding it in for quite some time, Blaise finally forced out what was in his heart.

"Oh? I insulted you? What did I do?!"

Malfoy wore an expression of affected disbelief, and the mockery at the corner of his lips deepened even further.

"I merely spoke the truth. Does that count as insulting you? Then your family's very existence in this world is a disgrace."

Luke watched Malfoy's performance with great interest from the side.

To be honest, he knew perfectly well that Malfoy was not standing up for Humphrey this time. He simply felt that Blaise's claim to be a noble insulted the title itself.

Though there had been some deviation in every possible sense, Luke was still pleased that Malfoy had the desire to defend the honor of nobles.

Blaise's face was bright red, his lips pressed tightly together and his hands clenched into fists. He raised them, then lowered them again. It was obvious that he desperately wanted to lash out, but for various reasons, he ultimately could not.

Seeing Blaise's embarrassed state, Humphrey could not stop a happy smile from appearing on his face.

He could not help recalling how Mom had warned him before he boarded the train not to get too close to those noble students, because they often looked down on him.

But that did not seem to be the case now. The heir of the Gaunt Family was willing to talk to him, and someone from the Malfoy Family had even spoken up for him.

It seemed there were still more good people in this world.

"Tha—"

The moment he opened his mouth, Luke, who had been watching his every movement, spoke at once.

He placed his right hand on the table and spoke seriously and solemnly. "You don't have to be ashamed of your origins and bloodline, Blaise."

As soon as Luke said that, everyone present turned their attention back to him.

Malfoy's expression darkened. He immediately wanted to snap a few harsh words at Luke, because what Luke had said was practically a slap in his face.

But he vaguely caught sight of the tip of a wand peeking out from Luke's right sleeve. It was hard to notice without looking closely, but its direction was clearly aimed at him. Malfoy had already suffered once at Luke's hands, so he paid special attention to his wand. Thus, he wisely chose to rein in his temper for the moment.

He closed his eyes and let out a soft breath. His previously straight back relaxed as well, and he assumed an expression that said, Go on, put on your show.

The students who had reacted strongly to Luke's words also chose to keep quiet for the moment when they saw that Malfoy had said nothing.

Knowing when to keep quiet and when to assess the situation were things every young snake needed to learn. Compared to the half-blood Humphrey, the foul-mouthed and impulsive Blaise was the one who truly puzzled them.

Had the Sorting Hat gone mad? Why had a brute like this not been sorted into Gryffindor?

Seeing that everyone was waiting for him to speak, Luke smiled and said, "You can see it too. The bloodline you take such pride in means no more than this in Draco's eyes or mine."

Blaise, who had thought Luke would speak for him, had just begun to calm down, but his face flushed red again. Before he could get angry, however, Luke's voice rang out once more.

"So I do not care about your bloodline either. No matter how noble your bloodline may be, unless you are Merlin's direct descendant, it does not mean much to me."

"What truly makes me look down on you is not your bloodline, but your behavior."

"Who do you think you mocked today? You mocked your classmate, your companion, your future helper—someone who might lend you a hand when you are in danger."

Luke's words made many Slytherin House students frown.

If Malfoy mocking Blaise had been amusing to watch, then Luke's speech was no longer amusing at all.

Because many of them had done the same things Blaise had.

None of them spoke, because they did not know what Luke would say next.