Julian finished the book he was currently on, but he was not particularly impressed by most of the remaining rituals inside. A large portion of them produced effects he could replicate simply by forging a ring, and the rest leaned too close to borderline dark magic for his taste. The reason he did not just enchant rings to cover everything on his ritual list was straightforward. Either he did not yet understand the exact mechanism well enough to reproduce it through forging, or it was simply inefficient.
Why bother making a ring for night vision when a brief ritual could grant the same ability permanently, with no risk of someone stealing it from him later.
...
It was not a complicated idea. Even if gathering ritual ingredients was tedious, it was still a minor cost compared to the advantages he would gain.
Julian went to bed at eight o'clock, ensuring he was well asleep long before his housemates even realized he was in the dormitory. He was not surprised when he saw a familiar elf waiting in his dreams once he drifted off.
"I will not judge your anger, because it was justified," the elf said, voice serious and measured. "But that woman was correct. You must not let it rule you. When we channel our spirits, it is easy for emotion to bleed into the work."
"I know," Julian replied with a quiet sigh. "That is one of the reasons I took my revenge quickly instead of making him suffer slowly."
If he let his fury sit and rot inside him, it could poison everything he created until he finally purged it. Julian could not afford that. One violent or twisted item slipping into the wrong hands would be more than enough to get him shipped straight to Azkaban for crafting dark magical artifacts.
...
The elf nodded. "I understand what you fear, and you are correct to fear it. Wrathful enchantments have always been viewed in a terrible light, even in my world."
Then his expression shifted.
"I have been made aware of your thoughts regarding ringwraiths," he said, and the last word left his mouth with open disgust.
Julian stiffened slightly, but the elf raised a hand.
"Thankfully, what you intend is not the same as those abominations from my world. What you are considering resembles a trade, and a fair one. Fealty in exchange for physical form restored."
He looked almost impressed as he spoke, which only made Julian feel more confident in the direction his mind had been moving.
"It is a good plan," the elf continued. "This world is filled with old and powerful ghosts. Many would accept such an offer without hesitation."
Julian's lips tugged into a wide grin. "Agreed. There are plenty who would jump at the chance."
The elf's gaze sharpened with knowing amusement. "And I assume your distant relative is the first you would like at your side?"
Julian let out a low breath. "I would be lying if I said the idea never crossed my mind. But I will not be the one to offer it to her. If it happens, she will have to ask for it herself. That matters. It shows impartiality."
...
The elf considered that for a moment, then nodded in approval. "That would present you as fair in your dealings. And I presume you will want a failsafe built into the rings as well?"
Julian nodded immediately. "I do, but I do not know what form it should take."
"Since you do not seek to enslave them, the method used in my world is not suitable," the elf said thoughtfully. "Perhaps a blend of motive detection and self destruction?"
Julian's eyes narrowed as he turned the idea over, weighing it, testing it.
...
They spent a long time exchanging possibilities, trading approaches, refining concepts, and picking apart risks. Eventually the dream ended, and Julian woke with the ideas still buzzing in his mind.
He would be lying if he claimed he was not eager to see Dumbledore's face when the paper arrived.
In fact, Julian was almost vibrating with anticipation. For nearly an hour he practically bounced in place, impatient for breakfast.
...
When he finally entered the Great Hall, he drew a scattering of strange looks and hushed murmurs the moment he sat at the table that had been repaired. Ron and Harry tried to speak to him about what had happened yesterday, but Julian only gave them a mischievous smile and told them to wait.
Dumbledore, watching from the staff table, felt a deep and unpleasant sense of dread the moment he saw that expression. He could not tell what Julian had done, but he was certain something had been done.
...
Then the owls arrived.
Dumbledore took hold of the Daily Prophet and saw the front page.
{DUMBLEDORE THE TERRIBLE? FULL STORY BELLOW!}
The more he read, the paler he became, as one dark deed after another was laid out in clean, blunt detail. The writing was sharp, organized, and merciless, each accusation framed in a way that would be impossible to ignore.
At last, Dumbledore lifted his gaze from the paper and looked toward Julian.
Julian met his eyes, then slowly mouthed three words with deliberate clarity.
"Karma's a bitch."
And then Julian threw his head back and cackled loudly.