Hooked

"You think Humphrey is lowborn, someone you can look down on. Then Draco and I can look down on you as well. So what you're feeling now is the same as what Humphrey felt. Are you happy?"

Luke asked with a smile.

Blaise's face turned livid, but he could not say a word.

"The same goes for everyone else," Luke said, sweeping his gaze over everyone present—those glaring at him with sharp eyes, and those watching him with gentle gazes. "If having nobler blood than others means you can bully them without restraint, then at least half of you should be licking my shoes."

"If you're unwilling, then resist me. And if you can't resist me, do you really have to lick my shoes?"

"How could that be possible!"

A towering upper-year student with large front teeth and gray eyes glared fiercely at Luke.

"Even if I die, I'll never accept such humiliation!"

As he spoke, all the Little Snakes nodded in unison. Proud as they were, how could they possibly do something so degrading?

Luke was truly pleased by the pride and defiance on their faces.

Unlike certain old Nobles who had already fallen to their knees, their knees gone weak, this Slytherin house, made up largely of Noble students, had not yet been crushed by power or forced to kneel. So here and now, nails had to be driven into their legs. Only then could they accept the transformation that would come later.

"Yes! You should resist! Use every ounce of your strength to overthrow those who oppress us! For the glory of the ancestors whose blood runs through your veins, and for the honor of your own souls."

"The greatness in our blood was earned through our ancestors' efforts! But what about us? Are we supposed to lie atop their achievements and idle our lives away?"

"I refuse! Shouldn't we make our ancestors proud of us?!"

A voice came from another corner of the Great Hall, from the Hufflepuff table. It was a chestnut-haired boy. Malfoy knew him—Ernie Macmillan, also a standard Pure-blood Noble.

"Then is bullying the weak and fearing the powerful something that would make your ancestors proud?!"

Luke asked.

"No! Only the weak bully those weaker than themselves!"

An upper-year girl at the Ravenclaw table shouted.

"Then is clinging to old ways, being ignorant and stubborn, something that would make your ancestors proud?!"

"Why don't your ancestors crawl out of the family graveyard and strangle you?"

Fred Weasley gave his opinion in a joking tone. It drew laughter from some of the students. But Ron, sitting beside him, noticed that his brother's eyes were entirely serious. He seemed to genuinely agree with what Luke had said.

"Then, Blaise," Luke finally turned to the boy. Blaise no longer looked angry. "Tell me, is being vain and currying favor with the powerful something that would make your ancestors proud?"

"No, it isn't..." Blaise said blankly.

"Then that is what Draco and I wanted to tell you."

Malfoy could not help but shudder.

What does this have to do with me?

"If you want to become a Noble respected by everyone, then stop boasting about the greatness of your ancestors all day. What we should do is become the pride of our ancestors—perhaps even become, in everyone's eyes, the first generation of Nobles. What we must pursue is our own greatness!"

"Do you want to be gravekeepers guarding your ancestors' cemetery, or pioneers blazing a trail to glory?"

As he said this, Luke looked across at Malfoy.

Guided by his gesture and gaze, everyone's eyes focused on Malfoy as well.

Draco had received the moment of universal attention he wanted. And the instant Luke looked at him, he truly felt the hot blood in his veins begin to boil.

"Of course we'll become pioneers! Create glory anew! Reforge our splendor!"

Like Luke, he stood and shouted loudly, an excited flush on his face.

Luke smiled and held out his hand to him. Malfoy solemnly grasped it. At that moment, the two looked as though they had entered into some sacred pact.

Clear applause rang out from the high table. Then applause like roaring surf and thunder erupted through the Great Hall, crashing down like an avalanche.

Most of the students wore excited expressions, as though they had witnessed history at that very moment.

"Minerva, this child you brought back doesn't seem quite like how you described him," Snape said to Professor McGonagall as he applauded. "He seems like a typical ambitious politician."

Professor McGonagall's expression did not change. "I still stand by my judgment. He is a very good child."

As she spoke, Professor McGonagall glanced again at the person in the middle who had taken the lead in applauding.

Dumbledore wore a proud smile, but his eyes were deep, making it impossible to tell what he was thinking.

Watching the two being cheered by everyone, Harry once again felt envy fill his heart. Not only them—even the three people who had answered Luke's questions were receiving cheers at their own house tables. Fred was clearly enjoying it. As he joked around, he looked at Luke with an unusual gleam in his eyes.

"If only I could have stood up and spoken just now. Unfortunately, I'm a Muggle wizard..."

That speech had seemed somewhat more relevant to the Pure-blood Nobles. Although it had also mentioned resistance and not discriminating against others—things that could apply to all Wizards—the later talk of glory and honor did not seem to have much to do with him.

"You're pure-blood too, Harry. You could have stood up," Percy said with a smile after hearing Harry's words. "Your Potter Family is also a famous Pure-blood Family in the Wizarding World. Though you're not among the Twenty-Eight Families, so you can't be considered top-tier Nobility."

Harry stared at Percy in surprise and could not help asking, "Really?"

"Of course it's true... Er, but Harry, Pure-blood Nobles aren't as wonderful as Gaunt just made them sound. Of course, perhaps that will change in the future."

Percy hesitated for a moment, then looked at Luke and said this to Harry.

At Luke's side, Taylor looked at his back as though she had spotted some rare Magical Creature, her eyes filled with curiosity and the desire to investigate.

Malfoy was still basking in everyone's applause and cheers, as though he had lost himself amid wave after wave of acclamation.

Meanwhile, an almost imperceptible smile curved Luke's lips.

Draco Malfoy had taken the bait.