His friends were far more relaxed at dinner this time, mostly because Julian didn't have a set of horrifying wounds crawling up his arms.
"Did you already figure out how to use the shield charm, Julian?" Ron asked, sounding genuinely stunned.
Julian nodded, but the slight twitch of his eyebrow was enough to warn Harry and Hermione not to ask how. Ron, of course, missed that entirely.
"That's incredible!" Ron blurted. "How'd you manage it without getting gnarled up like before?"
Julian drew in a slow breath, forced down the urge to curse at the dense boy, and answered evenly that he'd rather not talk about it.
Ron looked dissatisfied, but before he could dig himself a deeper hole, Harry smoothly shifted the conversation to the Quidditch tactic Julian had suggested earlier.
...
Apparently it had taken a bit of work, but Harry had managed to perform the maneuver while at a full stop, which counted as initial mastery. Ron piled on praise immediately, going on about how impressive it was for a nonprofessional player to pull it off.
Maybe scouts would start sending offers once they saw it done in an actual match.
After that, things carried on normally enough.
...
Nothing notable happened until about a week later, when Julian finally became skilled enough with Protego to shift the path of incoming spells, as long as they weren't too powerful.
With that level of control, he decided it was time to try something new. He wanted to make backup disposable rings, each one holding a single powerful shield that would automatically trigger to protect the wearer, then break afterward.
These would be his bread and butter for the next step of his plan, the part where he started spreading his name as a craftsman.
With panic still spreading because of Grindelwald, people would jump at protective items, especially when Julian planned to sell them for a cheap ten sickles.
...
To put it into perspective, that was roughly the cost of a first-year's schoolbooks. And with even a basic wizarding job paying at least five galleons a month, it was affordable for most people.
The only real issue was permission, both from Hogwarts staff and from the Ministry.
The Ministry would be easy. Minister Fudge had been trying to curry favor with him for a while now, so a casual mention would probably get approval pushed through quickly.
...
The real problem is the Hogwarts staff, Julian thought, more serious than he looked. Dumbledore might agree since it's a way to make people feel a bit safer. But the rest might take issue with me profiting off fear. McGonagall especially.
As he thought, he idly played with the niffler that had somehow made its way into his workshop.
Nifflers were small creatures, shaped a bit like oversized hedgehogs, roughly cat-sized. They had buck-billed mouths, big dark eyes, and a pouch on their bellies with an expanded interior space.
Their most famous trait, though, was their greed. They were so notoriously obsessed with shiny things that there were actual cases of nifflers trying to steal from dragons. They were unrepentant thieves, and frighteningly talented at sniffing out treasure and stealing it, regardless of whether doing so was smart.
...
This particular niffler had black fur and light brown eyes. It tried to look pathetic the moment Julian walked in, as if it hadn't been caught red-handed.
Helena had trapped it inside the workshop after it tried to steal one of the gold ingots Julian had stacked against the wall.
Julian, instead of being angry, took an immediate liking to the little criminal. He offered lembas bread in exchange for the creature not stealing his things.
The niffler accepted after tasting the bread.
Julian brought it to Hagrid at the first opportunity, but the half-giant wasn't familiar with this one. The niffler Hagrid looked after had brown fur and black eyes.
After that, the niffler, which Julian had named Thieving Steve, mostly just followed him everywhere.
...
Strangely enough, McGonagall had taken a liking to the greedy little bastard, and she spoiled it rotten with cookies whenever Julian had class.
Then again, it wasn't only her. Almost every girl who saw Steve started fawning over him.
I admit he's kind of cute, Julian thought, staring at the neat pile of sweets stacked in Steve's personal corner of the workshop. But this is ridiculous.
That corner now had a magically filled birdbath, a dog bed, and blankets, along with Steve's hoard of ill-gotten loot.
Most of it was coins, but there were also hairpins, brooches, and, for some reason, a silver spoon.