"Cough I maybe noticed magic quite a while ago," Julian admitted, looking away with a sheepish expression, then grimaced when Harry groaned.
"Figures," Harry muttered. "Why did you not say anything?"
Julian sighed. "Do you have any idea cough how I would have sounded if I just cough told you I already knew about magic?" he replied, answering with a question of his own.
"Completely barmy," Harry said with another sigh.
Julian nodded slightly. "Cough, cough I did find the books on accident though," he added honestly.
"So this whole time we were actually studying?" Harry grumbled, turning a betrayed look on the stack of books, as if they had personally tricked him.
Julian tried to laugh but immediately fell into a harsh coughing fit, which effectively ended the conversation.
Harry did not stay angry. He could understand why Julian had not blurted out, "By the way, magic is real," when that would have made him sound insane. What bothered Harry more was the lingering feeling that Julian was still hiding something deeper, something that had nothing directly to do with Harry himself. His intuition whispered that whatever it was, it belonged to Julian alone, so he forced himself to leave it alone.
...
Soon enough, Harry's birthday arrived.
Just as Julian had promised, he was back on his feet by then, the awful flu-like symptoms gone, even if he had looked like a corpse for the entire week leading up to it. The contrast was startling to Harry. One day Julian had seemed halfway to the grave, and the next he was moving around almost as though nothing had happened.
Harry was tempted to blame it on magic, but decided to keep his thoughts to himself until he actually understood magical healing at least a little.
If he was honest, he was also just a tiny bit jealous.
While the two of them were getting dressed that morning, he could not help noticing that Julian's stomach showed the beginnings of a six-pack. Julian was still lean, but anyone paying attention would see faint lines of muscle definition on his shoulders and arms as well. Months of regular forging had quietly reshaped his body.
Harry glanced down at his own still-skinny frame and puffed out his cheeks in silent frustration before laughing it off.
...
Hagrid arrived not long after breakfast, bundled in a massive coat that looked like it had been stitched together from the hides of several different creatures in a rather questionable way.
"Happy birthday, Harry!" he boomed, beaming as he stepped into the room.
"Morning, Hagrid!" both boys said at the same time, then looked at each other and laughed.
"Well, we had best be off. Loads to do today," Hagrid said cheerfully. "Just follow me for a bit and we will be set."
He did not bother explaining further.
Harry and Julian shrugged and went along without complaint. After about an hour of walking through the streets of London, they ended up standing in front of a dingy-looking pub. A rusty sign creaked above the door, with faded lettering that read: The Leaky Cauldron.
Peeling paint clung stubbornly to the exterior walls. Inside, dirty floorboards creaked underfoot. Dim light filtered through grimy windows, illuminating patrons who looked like they had been living in their robes for months. The wizarding folk inside were wrapped in torn, stained garments that might have once been respectable robes.
Behind the bar stood a man with short brown hair and a stern, tired face. His apron was as dirty as the glass in his hand and the rag he was using to wipe it.
"Morning, Tom. Got a couple of first-years to take to the alley," Hagrid announced.
The bartender, Tom, merely nodded and motioned for Hagrid to go through, no questions asked.
Harry frowned, confused by the odd exchange, but Julian felt something else. The magic woven through the building shifted subtly, parting like curtains to clear a path as they passed.
Probably some kind of ward to keep any wandering muggles from accidentally stumbling into Diagon Alley, Julian thought, calm but impressed.
Out behind the pub, Hagrid led them into a small brick courtyard. He stopped in front of what looked like nothing more than a regular wall and turned to face them.
"Remember this for later, the pair of you," he said. "Three up, two across from the rubbish bin, then tap three times."
He demonstrated, wandless but sure, and moments later the bricks began to shuffle and fold inward, revealing a stone archway that opened onto a bustling wizarding street.
"Wicked," Harry breathed, eyes wide with awe.
Hagrid's face lit up proudly at Harry's reaction.
Julian stayed outwardly composed. He had been expecting something like this, after all. That did not make it any less impressive to see in person, but he had prepared himself.
What he had not prepared for was the sheer scale of what lay beyond.
The scene in front of him was far grander than any description he remembered from the books. A full crowd flowed through the street in both directions, witches and wizards of all ages going about their shopping. Robes of every color fluttered. Owls hooted, cats slunk along walls, cauldrons gleamed in shop windows.
So many storefronts lined the alley that Julian could only identify a couple of them at a glance.
Gringotts was impossible to miss, a towering, snow-white structure perched in the middle of a crossroads, looming over the crowds. To its left, a darker side-street led toward Knockturn Alley. To its right, the rest of Diagon Alley stretched out in all its chaotic glory.
Probably set in the middle like that to symbolize neutrality, or to remind everyone that their money ends up here no matter where they stand, Julian noted wryly.
The only other shop that stood out immediately was Eeylops Owl Emporium, and the neighboring Magical Menagerie, mostly because of the animals. The owl shop had a big hanging sign and windows crowded with caged birds.
Julian felt a shiver run down his spine.
Every single owl in the window was staring directly at him.
Their eyes were sharp, unblinking, and fixed. It was not the hungry way a predator watched prey. It felt more like the way people might stare at a crowned monarch they had not expected to see.
I know it was mentioned somewhere that owls are strongly tied to magic, but this is ridiculous. I should keep my distance. At this rate they will blow my cover and tell everyone exactly how clear my circuits are, Julian thought nervously.
He very much doubted it was only the owls in the window that had turned their gaze his way.