"It is his word against Dudley's, there is no proof at all!" Vernon blurted in a last, flailing attempt to protect his reputation.
Any thoughts he might have had about punishing Julian had already evaporated after hearing the full story. Even he could tell that Dudley had very firmly landed on the wrong side of this. Now Vernon was only trying to salvage his own hide, because this mess had the potential to drag their home life into the light and expose how he and Petunia actually treated their nephew.
Julian's grin widened, slow and sharp, and Vernon suddenly felt like he was a juicy steak under the gaze of a hungry lion. His palms went damp.
"On the contrary," Julian said pleasantly, "it is the entire class, including the teacher, against Dudley. And do not forget that even his own story supports mine, just with less detail."
For a brief second, Vernon genuinely wanted to strangle his son for being foolish enough to provoke this demon named Julian Iron.
"It seems this meeting has been a waste of my time," the principal said, his voice still neutral but colder now. "And that instead, I will need to contact child services regarding Mister Potter's treatment at home. You should expect a visit at your residence shortly."
...
Things are about to get magical, Julian thought with a spark of dark amusement as he left the office. There is no way Dumbledore will not lose his mind once this reaches him.
He was certain the old meddler would investigate whatever had disrupted his carefully crafted status quo, which ultimately meant Julian himself. That was dangerous. At the same time, it practically guaranteed that Dumbledore would make sure Julian received a Hogwarts letter, if that was not already the plan.
Julian was dismissed back to class. The secretary walking him down the hall looked at him with open admiration. She had been listening in from the doorway and heard how he had taken control of the conversation, guiding the entire meeting without ever raising his voice.
He is going to go far in life, she thought honestly.
When Julian stepped back into the classroom wearing a smug, victorious grin, everyone understood at once that Dudley had chosen the wrong target this time. There was an unspoken rule at this school. You did not cross Dudley Dursley because his parents would always swoop in and shield him from consequences.
Julian had just flipped that rule on its head.
He strolled casually over to his seat beside Harry and sat down like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
"What did you do?" Harry hissed excitedly, barely able to contain his curiosity. The rest of the class went quiet, ears straining. Even the teacher seemed to be listening in.
Julian obligingly recounted the entire scene in the principal's office, describing how he had politely handed the Dursleys a taste of their own poison and, in the process, might have blown open the truth about Harry's treatment at home.
"Brilliant," Harry breathed when Julian finished, his smile bright and completely genuine. The hope in his eyes was almost physical. He silently wished with everything he had that whatever happened next would let him end up at the same orphanage as Julian.
Julian nearly burst out laughing when Harry told him that. He could not help imagining Dumbledore receiving a report about all of this and having something very close to a heart attack. The headmaster would immediately start worrying that Harry might grow up more like Voldemort than he expected, changing too much and too fast.
Julian knew that was impossible. Harry was far too kind at his core to twist that way. Still, the image was funny.
He did not crush Harry's hope. He could not exactly turn and tell him, "By the way, most of your misery comes courtesy of a scheming old goat and the curse of prophecies."
So he let Harry dream.
...
As one might expect, when child protective services arrived at Number 4 Privet Drive and conducted a proper search, they were not pleased.
At first glance, everything looked ideal. The house was neat, middle class, and Dudley's room was the perfect picture of a spoiled, comfortable child's bedroom, overflowing with toys and clothes.
That was where the cracks began to show.
There was another bedroom, but it was completely bare, clearly unused, as though no one had ever lived in it. The social worker frowned at that, went back downstairs, and began asking careful, pointed questions.
Eventually, the truth came out.
Harry Potter had not been living in either of the bedrooms. He had been sleeping in a cramped, dirty broom cupboard under the stairs.
Karma chose that day to come down like a hammer.
Somehow, the story slipped out into the media. Reporters pounced on it. "The Boy Who Lived Forced to Sleep in a Cupboard" was too potent a headline to ignore. The public backlash was immediate and vicious.
Harry was removed from the Dursleys' care and granted a form of compensation for his suffering. That compensation included a single, important request, and Harry did not hesitate.
He asked to be placed in the same orphanage as Julian.
The Dursleys, meanwhile, were shredded in the court of public opinion. Their spotless, respectable image was dragged through the mud in less than an afternoon.
Dumbledore, of course, tried to intervene.
He was far too late.
The watcher he had stationed to keep an eye on Harry and the Dursleys had been "coincidentally out" when everything happened, leaving the old wizard utterly powerless to stop the chain of events once it began.