"Chill, mate, you seem more excited about using the workshop than I am," Julian joked as he walked beside Harry.
Harry was already starting to fill out a little from regular meals at the orphanage. He was not at a healthy weight yet, but compared to the half-starved boy Julian had first met, the difference was obvious.
"How are you not excited?" Harry demanded, exasperated.
If there was one trait Harry had been determined to chip away at during their first week sharing a room, it was how unexpressive Julian was. It was obvious to him that Julian was a reserved person who had trouble truly relaxing. That quiet, guarded state felt wrong to Harry, like Julian was scared of what might happen if he ever let his guard down.
Harry recognized the habit of staying quiet to avoid attention. The Dursleys had drilled that into him. But Julian's silence was not about avoiding punishment. It felt older, deeper, like a reflex carved in by something else entirely.
"I am reasonably excited to finally get some work done," Julian replied, rolling his eyes, "but it is still strange that you are this eager when you do not even know how to craft."
"You are going to turn rubbish we dragged off the street into actual treasure," Harry said, giving him a smug look. "What is not to be excited about?"
Julian lifted his hands in surrender. They both knew Harry had him there.
"I promise you will change your tune once I start," Julian said, smirking. "The process is honestly kind of boring."
Harry's confidence wavered. It cannot be that bad... right? he thought uneasily.
...
About an hour after school, Harry practically bounced into the shabby shed that now served as their workshop, only for his excitement to be sucker punched by reality when Julian lit the fireplace and then spent thirty straight minutes just feeding it.
Harry stared at him, appalled.
"Do not look at me like that," Julian said with a small chuckle, noticing his expression. "Getting a strong, hot fire going is important. With what we have, there are no shortcuts."
"So we literally have to waste all that time every ring just for you to start?" Harry asked, dread on his face.
"Nah, just for the first one, mate," Julian assured him. "The fire's job is to help keep the metal workable for longer once it reaches temperature. The fun part is really when I start shaping the metal into the designs people picked."
"Thank God," Harry muttered, visibly relieved. "I thought it was always going to be that boring. So how long does the metal take to heat up?"
"It depends on the metal," Julian said with a shrug, tossing a small copper ingot into the blaze. "Some are harder and take longer to get workable, like steel. Others are softer and heat up quickly, like this copper ingot here, which is already done."
He reached into the fire with a rough pair of tongs, pulled out the glowing ingot, and carried it over to the chunk of beam that served as his makeshift anvil.
"Now you are going to see the preliminary steps needed to make a ring," Julian said calmly, setting the copper carefully in the center of the steel block. "See how big this piece of metal is?"
"Yeah. What about it?" Harry asked, interest returning.
Julian gripped the copper with the tongs, then raised his hammer and began striking the metal, careful and steady.
"I need to turn this large piece of metal into several smaller ones," he explained. "A single ring does not use much material, and this is far too much. What I am doing right now is called drawing it out. Keep watching, and it will make sense."
He did not take his eyes off the glowing bar, nor pause his hammering as he spoke. The repeated blows rang through the shed with a steady rhythm.
Harry watched, fascinated, as the ingot slowly changed shape. It grew longer and thinner with every strike, stretching out like taffy made of light.
After about five minutes, Julian stopped and inspected the work. The copper was now almost twice its original length and roughly half as thick.
He returned it to the fire to reheat, then turned to Harry. "So, did you figure it out yet?" he asked.
"By drawing out the metal, it is easier to get just the right amount when you, uh, break it into different pieces, right?" Harry ventured, frowning in concentration.
"Something like that, yes," Julian said. "Small correction though. I will not be breaking the metal, exactly. I will be segmenting it."
"What is the difference?" Harry asked, confused.
"Breaking is rough and imprecise," Julian replied, patient as ever. "Segmenting is precise. If I was just messing around, breaking it would be fine. But since I already have designs in mind, segmenting works better."