"Julian, what you did was exceptional," the professors told him again and again. "Brave. Decisive. A true champion."
Once the sequence of events was clarified, the praise came naturally. If Julian hadn't acted quickly and kept his head, Hallie would likely have died, and Jerry Mario's resurrection might have gone completely unnoticed. As for how the Dark Lord had been subdued so easily, the explanation settled on a single conclusion. His body was unstable. Newly restored, not yet fully adapted, far from his former peak.
After hearing the full account, the Aurors used the Triwizard Cup to reach the graveyard immediately. By then, it was empty. The masked followers had vanished without a trace, leaving only the cauldron of foul potion used for the resurrection.
Within days, the news spread through the British magical community.
Jerry Mario had returned, only to be destroyed again. The traitor had been captured alive. Sirius Black was officially cleared of all charges. The impact was enormous.
Julian paid it little mind.
He spent his days in the Flamel Academy library, but not among spellbooks. The academy's spell texts were nearly identical to those he already knew, differing mostly in terminology. There was nothing new to gain there.
Instead, he focused on history.
Modern Magical History.
Wizarding Travel Guide: The 21st Century.
The Impact of Advanced Technology on the Supernatural.
A week later, he closed the final book and leaned back.
"So this really is different."
Compared to the world he knew before, where magic was centralized and wizards stood alone at the top of the supernatural hierarchy, this world was far messier.
Europe remained dominated by traditional magic users. But elsewhere, power took many forms. The Americas were home to superpowered individuals, experimental augmentations, and rare mutations. Asia was even more fragmented. Japan had ninja clans. China was said to have practitioners who cultivated internal forces, though details were vague.
Despite the differences, they all shared one label.
"Others."
Magicians. Superhumans. Modified beings. Cultivators. All were grouped under the same umbrella. As for whether gods or something beyond them existed, the books were frustratingly noncommittal.
Julian considered this carefully.
"Maybe I should go back and see it for myself."
Staying at Flamel Academy offered little value now. His first incarnation had already finished school early and moved on. Remaining here wouldn't teach him anything new. As it happened, Julian's background made returning home entirely reasonable.
And if there truly were practitioners of internal power, comparing their methods to what he already knew could be worthwhile.
The next day, the school term ended. Julian took the Flamel Express back to London.
He hadn't even found the right moment to bring up leaving when his father spoke first.
"Julian, I've been thinking," his father said seriously. "This magic school is too dangerous. I never wanted you there in the first place. I've talked it over with your mother. Things aren't stable here. You should transfer back home and finish school there."
When the academy representative had first visited years ago, his father had been firmly opposed. Magic offered no immortality, no public use, no real benefit in his eyes. A prestigious university and a future in business had always seemed far more practical.
He'd only agreed out of fear that Julian's uncontrolled abilities might endanger his life.
Now that control had been achieved, and with the wizarding world clearly unstable, pulling his son out felt like common sense.
"Alright," Julian said with a calm smile.
His father froze.
He hadn't expected such an easy answer. He'd raised the subject before, only to be met with stubborn resistance every time.
"You… you're serious?"
"I am," Julian replied. "I was scared too. I almost died. You're right. A normal life is safer."
The explanation landed perfectly.
His father burst into laughter. "Good. Good. Pack your things. You'll leave tomorrow. I'll start shifting my business back as well. We'll develop domestically from now on."
As his father stepped aside to make calls, Julian nodded to himself.
No suspicion.
He had tested carefully, brushing the edge of his father's thoughts. Nothing. No doubt. No unease.
That was expected. They rarely spent time together. Most of Julian's year was spent at school. Even during breaks, his father was consumed by work. Changes in a growing teenager's personality were easy to dismiss.
Once he returned home, it would be even simpler. His mother and sister barely knew him at all. Their last meaningful time together had been years ago during a brief visit to London.
Both parents were career-driven. Nannies had done most of the raising. Only now, approaching middle age, had they begun paying attention to family.
Even if doubts arose, he could erase them.
Any incarnation that came with family or friends received a degree of consideration. It was the price of taking over a life. But only as long as it posed no threat to him.
That boundary had been set long ago.
This time, the transition would be easy.