Julian frowned slightly. "I have absolutely no idea how watching me do that could help you make prank items, but if you say so," he said with a shrug.
"Not this exact bit, mate," one of the twins clarified quickly. "We mean the whole process, y'know, making things out of metal in general. That ring of yours already proved metal can be used to make brilliant joke gear, and we want to know how."
Julian locked the workshop door behind them as they stepped out into the corridor.
"I can show you the basics," he said with a small smile, "but do not expect me to hand over any of my secret techniques."
He had no problem passing on ordinary smithing knowledge. Most of it was not far off from what this world already had in public circulation anyway. The magical side of his craft, however, he had every intention of keeping to himself. He had no plans to casually give away his true secrets.
"You will be able to watch me actually make something tomorrow," Julian added as they headed for the shortcut down to the first floor. "Although you will need to leave once I start enchanting it."
"Works for us," they chimed together, falling into step beside him.
...
Julian arrived at dinner a little after half past six, but no one seemed to mind the slight delay. Word of his new workshop had already spread through the student body by word of mouth, and Professor Flitwick, who had actually seen it, had happily shared the news with the rest of the staff.
"He has already begun putting it to use as well," Flitwick said, sounding rather pleased as the professors talked at the staff table.
"How was his skill, Filius?" Dumbledore asked, eyes twinkling with curiosity.
"It was quite strange, actually," Flitwick answered honestly. "It felt both refined and inexperienced at the same time. My guess is that it is the result of him having taught himself."
"Like his mind and body are not entirely in sync, yes?" Dumbledore suggested mildly, his gentle smile catching the Charms professor off guard.
Flitwick thought back to the earlier scene in the workshop, recalling the way Julian moved, the slight disconnect between precision and physical ease. He found himself nodding. "Yes, it was very much like that. I take it you know the reason?" he asked curiously.
"Oh, quite," Dumbledore replied. "I had a similar issue myself once upon a time. It occurs when a person's knowledge of a subject outstrips their body's ability to fully perform it, much like the faint delay one sees between casting a spell and the spell reaching its target."
He took a sip of his drink, then continued.
"The greater the gap between mind and body, the more obvious the disharmony becomes. It is not harmful, so there is no need to worry. It simply means young Nicholas still has some growing to do."
When he finished, several of the professors sat quietly, processing his words.
They had already believed Julian to be advanced in his craft, given the few items he had made in such a short time. Realizing that his practical skill was apparently still lagging behind his understanding of the subject was startling.
It raised an uncomfortable question. If this was him while his body was behind his mind, what did his potential actually look like once he grew into it fully?
Most of their gazes slid instinctively toward the center of the staff table, where Dumbledore himself sat, eating and smiling absently as he watched the students.
...
Julian, meanwhile, remained blissfully unaware that anyone was comparing him to the Headmaster.
He was far too occupied with demolishing a protein heavy meal, eating with focused enthusiasm. By now, no one at the student tables thought much of it. They were used to his odd appetite and the way he seemed to have a stomach that never quite filled.
There was a method to it.
He deliberately ensured that he consumed roughly twice the normal amount of vitamins and protein that a growing body needed, so that as he matured, he would not only grow taller but also stronger.
...
After dinner, he turned in early so he could rise at his usual time and get started on the preparatory work for Hagrid's ring.
The twins are going to hate me tomorrow, he thought with a mischievous grin as he lay down.
At dawn, Julian woke, washed, and dressed in a casual outfit: a pair of jeans and a grey T shirt. Then he quietly slipped out and made his way to the twins' dormitory.
Inside, they, along with their roommates, were still fast asleep.
His grin widened.
He drew his wand, picked one of the twins, and whispered the incantation he had learned the previous day. "Tacet Clamor," he said softly, pointing at the bed.
The effect was perfect.
There was no audible sound, nothing anyone else could hear, but the twin in question shot upright as if a bomb had gone off beside the mattress, eyes wide, heart clearly hammering.
"Ha ha ha!" Julian burst into laughter at the sight of the dazed, pale redhead whipping his head around in confusion.
The commotion naturally drew the attention of the other boys in the room. It took the startled twin about thirty seconds to piece together what had happened. When he did, his fear melted into a grin, and he let out a chuckle of grudging appreciation. It was a good prank, and he knew it.
Julian, magnanimous as ever, turned to the other twin and repeated the process without hesitation.
"Tacet Clamor," he murmured, casting the same illusion.
The second twin jolted awake just as violently as the first had, bolting up in bed with wild eyes, while his brother and Julian both laughed at his reaction.