Tracy huffed, still sore over her string of losses despite Julian's explanation about luck, but she let it drop without further complaining.
Dinner that evening turned out to be unexpectedly interesting.
Julian asked the house elves for something no one else at Hogwarts had ever seen on the tables before. What arrived was a large bowl filled with rich, steaming fish broth, topped with spring onions, several slices of eel that no one else recognized, and a generous tangle of noodles, with two pieces of seaweed resting neatly on the side.
Surrounded by the usual heavy roasts, potatoes, and pies, the unfamiliar bowl stood out immediately. The students sitting near Julian could not keep their eyes off it.
Up at the staff table, Dumbledore had, of course, requested a bowl for himself as well. He had learned by now that Julian's taste in food was usually worth following.
Curiosity spread like a slow moving spell. One after another, more people began asking the elves for "whatever he is having."
Soon McGonagall, and surprisingly even Snape, had bowls of their own after seeing how much the Headmaster was enjoying his.
Many who tasted it found themselves delighted by the savory, layered flavor and comforting warmth.
Later, a great number of people would look back on that evening as the night ramen was first introduced to the British wizarding world.
...
"Where do you keep getting all these amazing ideas from?" Ron asked as they left the Hall.
Julian shrugged. "You do realize I did not invent that dish, right?" he said.
"Really? Then who did? They must be geniuses," Ron said, genuinely impressed.
"It is a bit of a debated topic," Julian answered. "Most people assume it was someone in Japan."
Ron froze mid step.
"If I remember correctly, it started as a cheap, filling meal, then grew into the art it is today," Julian added with a grin, watching the reality check land.
He did not blame Ron for never really thinking about other parts of the world. Wizarding communities tended to be disconnected from even their own country's Muggles, let alone foreign magical societies.
The best example of this was how, despite being just across the Channel, most British wizards could not tell you anything about the French magical community. The two sides rarely shared information beyond their borders.
...
They all went to bed in good spirits, and for once, Julian's dreams were entirely ordinary.
At dawn, he was up again.
He made straight for his workshop. After a quick sweep for any foreign magic, he lit the furnace and let it begin to warm.
While it was heating, he went to his stacks of metal and picked out the exact same types he had used when creating Greed. From each folded bar, he snapped off a single layer.
He stacked those pieces together in a small, uneven tower, then waited for the furnace to reach the right baseline before turning the temperature up and switching the fire over to dragon flame.
All of the metals went into the furnace at once.
There was considerably more material than he would ever need for a normal ring, so the molds he prepared to receive it were proportionally larger as well.
That seemingly excessive amount of metal was actually the trick that allowed Greed to transform into much larger shapes than its default size, like when it had turned into one of the twins' zombified faces.
Once the dragon fire had done its work and the metals had melted under its merciless heat, Julian used his wand to draw the molten mass out and stirred it thoroughly, making sure every piece merged into a uniform alloy.
When he was satisfied, he divided the mixture between the two molds and set them aside to cool until they were solid enough to work and enchant.
The cooling process took only about fifteen minutes. While he waited, he stretched and rolled his shoulders, loosening his muscles for what came next.
When the metal was ready, he cracked the molds open and levitated the results to the anvil.
What lay there were two ugly, multicolored, badly textured rings, rough and misshapen.
A bright glow erupted from Julian's body for a heartbeat before drawing inward and concentrating around his hands.
He lifted his hammer and focused on everything he understood about Boggarts, about fear, reflection, and transformation, then brought the hammer down on the first ring.
"Bang. Hmmm."
The ring began to hum immediately, but this was where things diverged from his usual forging sessions.
Riding the recoil of the first blow, Julian redirected his swing and struck the second ring as well.
Now both rings were humming.
He continued like that, letting the rhythm of his strikes alternate between the two, tuning them until the sound they produced matched, harmonizing into a single tone.
Before long, the two rings were humming together, like twin voices singing the same note perfectly in sync.
On the final strike, Julian twisted his wrist, brought the hammer down hard, and spoke clearly, "Twin Fears."
For the briefest instant, the two rings fused under the blow, merging into a single shape, before splitting apart again into two separate bands.
They now looked indistinguishable from Greed, their surfaces in constant motion, colors and textures shifting in an unending pattern.