Julian apologized to Harry for the trouble he might have just caused, but the boy who lived was having none of it. He refused to let Julian take any blame.
"There is not much more they can do to me than what I already deal with," Harry said with a small shrug, trying to act casual. "I will probably just not get any dinner again. It is fine. I am used to it."
Julian almost exploded right then.
It was one thing to read about Harry's abuse in a fictional story, safe and distant. It was another to stand in front of him, hear those words, and know that this was now Julian's real world, and Harry was his friend.
Rage surged through him, hot and vicious.
A nearby window cracked with a sharp sound as a pulse of uncontrolled magic burst out, fueled by his anger. Julian forced himself to clamp down on it immediately before the surge hurt someone or drew too much attention.
Harry stared, startled. For a brief moment, he could have sworn Julian's eyes had changed color during that outburst, shifting into something strange. But when he looked again, they were completely normal. He blamed it on his worn, blurry glasses and chose not to mention it.
"I will bring you some food tomorrow, so do not worry about it, mate," Julian said firmly, making the promise right before the teacher began roll call.
...
The rest of the school day was much like the one before. Julian was bored out of his mind. The lessons dragged on at a snail's pace, the material so basic it almost physically hurt to sit through.
This time, however, he had something to distract himself with. He spent much of the class quietly helping Harry with his work.
It did not take long for him to notice something.
In the original story, Harry had often struggled with his studies at Hogwarts, particularly later on. It had always been easy to blame that on him being average or not very studious, especially compared to Hermione. But here, with Julian guiding him, Harry picked things up quickly. He was sharp, observant, and genuinely hardworking when someone gave him encouragement and direction.
Julian started to suspect that a lot of Harry's academic struggles in the canon timeline could be laid at the feet of one Ron Weasley. Ron had probably dragged him into habits of slacking off rather than studying or practicing spells. It would explain a lot, like why Dumbledore had suddenly pushed harder for Harry to improve once Voldemort returned fully.
The headmaster had likely realized that at the rate Harry was going, he had no chance of winning that final showdown. That would have forced Dumbledore to take action, quite possibly by meddling with Ron's mind through subtle magic to make him more supportive and less of a deadweight.
Julian simply did not buy the idea that Ron had miraculously changed his behavior out of nowhere without some external push.
That was not to say Ron was completely worthless. The redhead did have some redeeming traits. He was clever in a tricky, improvisational way, if not particularly intelligent in the academic sense. He was also stubbornly loyal to his people, willing to stand up for them even when it was clearly a bad idea, like all the times he confronted Malfoy and his gang while heavily outnumbered.
Still, with Julian's presence, that influence over Harry was already being quietly undermined long before Ron could even properly enter the picture.
...
When classes ended, Julian parted ways with Harry and headed back to the orphanage.
As much as he was tempted to buy the hammer from the system shop and immediately attempt another forging session for more points, he was not foolish enough to try it.
First problem: he did not have an anvil, tongs, or a proper forge to heat the metal.
Second problem: even if he managed to improvise some of that, forging was loud. Hitting metal over and over would create an ungodly racket that would echo through the building.
Without the privacy and isolation of the astral workshop, any attempt to forge in the orphanage would put his abilities on full display. Every adult and child there would know something strange was going on, and that was the last thing he wanted.
So instead of trying to grind points by making more rings, Julian chose a more subtle route. He spent a chunk of his hard-earned ring points on foundational books about magic from the system shop, focusing on anything that would help him prepare for Hogwarts.
He would honestly be more surprised if he did not receive his letter, given how quickly his magic was growing.
In just the two days since his circuits had been cleansed, his magical energy had nearly doubled. His mind, body, and soul were slowly resynchronizing and reinforcing one another. He knew the growth would slow down at some point, but for now, the increase was dramatic.
He could also tell, thanks to his heightened sensitivity, that his current magical reserves already exceeded Harry's by a notable margin.
That same sensitivity came with a downside, however. He could feel the foreign soul fragment lodged in Harry's scar.
It was impossible to miss. The shard radiated a constant aura of malice, dark and oily. At the same time, Julian noticed something that almost made him laugh.
Harry's own passive aura bullied the shard into submission. The main soul it belonged to was weakened, and Harry's presence suppressed it, preventing it from freely corrupting those around him the way the other horcruxes did.
That was why, unlike the locket or the diary, Harry did not poison everyone he spent time with. The only one who really bore the brunt of that shard's influence was Harry himself, and even that would not become truly dangerous until Voldemort began regaining his strength in earnest.
...
An unexpected, almost poetic moment of karma arrived the very next day when Julian was summoned to the principal's office.