Dumbledore sat in his office dealing with the fallout from Julian's retaliation, looking more exhausted than he had in years. Fawkes perched nearby and seemed almost pleased with his misery. Dumbledore could not even fault the phoenix for it. The proud bird had practically warned him not to take the path he had chosen, but Dumbledore had convinced himself he was beyond criticism. Now he was paying for that arrogance.
Letters were stacked everywhere. Ministry notices, worried parents, outraged witches and wizards, formal complaints, demands for answers. They lay scattered across his desk in uneven piles, with more arriving constantly. In Dumbledore's opinion, the worst part was not the public anger.
It was the quiet betrayal in the eyes of his long time allies.
His friends and supporters had been wounded by the truth of his past, as if the man they believed in had never truly existed.
...
Dumbledore had never considered himself a good man. He had always known his hands were stained. Still, he told himself that every decision he made was for the future of wizardkind. That was the justification he had leaned on again and again.
This reprisal hurt, yes, but he also believed time could dull it. If he stayed careful, stayed steady, kept to the straight and narrow, he could recover. Perhaps not completely, but enough.
That belief shattered when a single envelope landed on top of the mess.
It was impossible to miss.
A deep crimson envelope, stamped with a gold Ministry seal that Dumbledore knew far too well.
Even Fawkes went still. The phoenix's usual smugness vanished, replaced by a sharp focus that felt almost predatory.
Dumbledore's heart began to hammer as he reached for it. His fingers felt strangely unsteady. He opened it with a letter opener and drew out a matching crimson sheet.
There were only four words written in thick black ink.
Grindelwald has escaped Nurmengard.
Dumbledore drew in a slow breath, forcing himself to steady. He looked up, meeting Fawkes's gaze.
"He is free," he said quietly.
Fawkes straightened, and the phoenix's feathers flickered faintly with fire, stern and alert.
...
Across the world, similar reactions rippled through the magical community as the news spread. Panic rose quickly, spreading in ugly waves. A shadow the world believed buried and contained had lifted its head again, and the name alone carried weight like a curse.
An enemy thought long defeated was loose.
...
Meanwhile, Julian remained completely unaware of what his actions had set into motion. He sat at the table eating as if nothing in the wider world had shifted, chatting casually with a couple of his friends about what they should do with the rest of the weekend.
...
After lunch, Tracy nearly tackled him.
She latched onto him with frantic energy, repeatedly demanding to know if he was alright and whether Dumbledore had tried to retaliate for the retaliation. Julian sighed and peeled her off with an almost effortless show of strength, guiding her back by the shoulders.
"I'm fine, Tracy," he said, keeping his voice calm. "I already have something in mind to make sure this never happens again."
He explained his plan to research the mind arts and then create a ring that could protect him from them, or at least give him enough warning and time to defend himself.
...
"Would that even work?" Tracy asked, doubt clear in her voice. "Not that I think you're lying or anything, but that sounds ridiculously powerful. We're only first years."
Julian's expression tightened. "I'll admit I might have to overdraft myself a bit to make a decent version of the ring," he said seriously. "But I can't stand the idea of something like this happening again."
"Do not try to carry all of it alone," Daphne cut in, her tone unusually firm.
Everyone turned to stare at her in surprise.
A faint flush rose in her cheeks under the attention, and she looked away, clearly regretting the spotlight even as she held her ground.
...
"She's right, mate," Harry said, voice honest. "We've got your back if you need it."
Ron nodded along, agreement written all over his face.
Julian felt a genuine warmth at the sentiment, but it was tangled with something darker. Their loyalty made him feel guilty, because of the future plans he had once considered involving them. He quietly decided to scrap those ideas on the spot and replace them with new ones, plans that would tear the canon timeline apart beyond repair.
'First things first, though. I need to protect my mind,' he told himself.
"I promise I won't try to take on the world alone," Julian said, giving them a smirk. "There. Happy?"
Harry smirked back. "It'll do for now, I suppose," he said, pretending to be satisfied.
...
"Now that that's settled," Tracy said, tone turning teasing again, "Ravenclaw, huh?"
Julian groaned. "Yes, yes. Get it out of your system while you can."
"Come on," Tracy insisted, eyes bright. "You're practically royalty with a bloodline like that. You should've seen Draco's face when the news went around. He turned the same shade as his robes!"
Julian let out a quiet breath of regret. "I'm sure that was a sight," he admitted. "Sadly, I was unconscious thanks to your Head of House."
He did not blame Snape in the slightest. If anything, part of him was grateful Severus had stopped him before he ruined his own future in a moment of fury.
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