Chapter 2 - Discovery
The next morning was a beautiful one. Jacob rushed outside after breakfast so he could better enjoy it. He still had over an hour before his only class of the day, double Care of Magical Creatures, but continued towards Hagrid's home anyways. Due to their mutual fascination, or obsession, depending on who you asked, the groundskeeper turned Professor and Jacob had struck up a fast friendship, something Jacob was immensely grateful for. During the summer, when he'd arrived at Hogwarts in order to become more familiar with the castle, he'd made it a priority to meet the Professor in charge of his favorite class. During their introductions, Hagrid had offered to introduce Jacob to the school's herd of hippogriffs. Jacob had taken Hagrid up on his offer and began helping with chores pertaining to the herd. Soon, Hagrid found he could trust Jacob for most tasks and enlisted him as an unofficial assistant during the summer months. Jacob didn't mind in the slightest. He found Hagrid an interesting and kind soul, one willing to withhold judgement even after being sorted into Slytherin. Later on Jacob found that Hagrid had an extremely 'hands on' approach when it came to his class, furthering his respect for the man. Jacob didn't mind theory in the slightest, but putting theory to practice is where he really thrived. During the summer when he'd learned about the dangerous creatures that supposedly dwelled within the wooded grounds of Hogwarts, he'd immediately made his way to the library for some research. Using Hagrid to verify some of the claims he found in the books, he discovered that the Forest also played host to an acromantula colony.
Jacob was shaken out of his thoughts when Hagrid's canine friend, Fang, came bounding up to him. The dog looked at Jacob with big, brown eyes and gave a small bark as a greeting. Jacob bent down to one knee in order to scratch Fang behind the ear, earning him several wags of Fang's heavy tail.
"Ya know, I don't think I've ever seen Fang as happy ter see someone as you, Jacob. 'Cept for me o' course."
Jacob turned towards the sound of the voice, and upon seeing his favorite Professor stood up.
"Hello, Professor. I'm surprised I didn't find you preparing today's lesson when I arrived, Jacob said with a small smile.
Hagrid simply frowned and replied, "Didn't ya get me owl? Class is cancelled today." Jacob's eyes widened at this and his small smile became nonexistent.
"Cancelled?! Why?" Jacob knew he sounded like a whining child, but he couldn't help it. This class was his favorite, one that he excelled in above all others. To hear that he had to wait until next week for a new lesson was terrible.
"Sorry, lad. I'm doing somethin' fer Professor Dumbledore. Top secret." The man's chest puffed out visibly with pride. "I wouldn't betray his trust with somethin' so important. The secrecy fer the first task is important and I don't think I'm supposed ter be showing the dragons ter a-" Hagrid mouth audibly shut when he realized he had said too much. He began pacing back and forth, only stopping to address the awed student. Any lingering hints of sadness from the class being cancelled were instantly gone at the mention of dragons. "I shouldn't have said that. I should not have said that. Please don't tell anyone I let that slip, Jacob. I could get fired jus' fer sayin' that! Please don't tell anyone it doesn't concern." Jacob reassuringly put his hand on Hagrid's branch-like forearm and gave it a pat.
"I'm not going to tell anyone who doesn't need to know about the dragons. You can trust me, Professor Hagrid," he added cheekily. Hagrid looked at Jacob with a big watery smile. The large man rubbed his eyes, brushing away some of the tears. He suddenly reached out and enveloped Jacob in a massive bear hug, squeezing all of the air out of the twelve year old's lungs. A second later, Hagrid dropped Jacob.
"That's good ter hear. Thank you so much. Thank you, thank you. Fifteen points ter Slytherin for keepin' the secret. Now," Hagrid wiped the last of his tears away. He leaned down so he was eye level with Jacob. "Wanna come inside and hear all about 'em? Since you already know, I don't see any reason not ter tell ya all about 'em."
Jacob could only nod his head. Dragons! Colossal, flying reptiles capable of spitting fire. He couldn't help but think about his final essay he'd turned in for his last Magical Creatures class. His teacher had scoffed at his original idea to incapacitate a dragon. Said it was 'too impractical' and the spells suggested were 'an inefficient use of magical power'. Not to mention the man had completely denied the spell Jacob suggested even existed.
In the back of his mind, he heard Hagrid listing the four dragons that had been imported from a preserve in Romania. Evidently, one unlucky bastard was going to go up against a young Hungarian Horntail. 'The British certainly knew how to kick off a tournament,' he mused. Suddenly, he became aware of a very simple fact. If the champions didn't learn the task in advance, it would be a massacre. It took nearly a dozen skilled wizards to incapacitate a dragon. The deed, in theory, could be done by an exceptional individual, perhaps someone like Albus Dumbledore. But to expect a single seventh year student to do so without any preparation… that was ludicrous. They were all screwed.
Later that afternoon
"I'm screwed," Harry said, face turning pale. It was that same Wednesday evening. Upon meeting with Hermione in the library, Jacob immediately told her to go find Harry Potter and bring him there. She wouldn't have done so if Jacob hadn't, in a hushed whisper, told her that he'd discovered what the first task was. Hermione had graced Jacob with a small hug and ran out the library before Madam Pince could even order her to walk.
Thirty minutes later, Jacob was formally introduced to The-Boy-Who-Lived. They had moved to an abandoned classroom close to the library. Hermione had suggested a bit of privacy to discuss a matter that was supposed to be a secret. Jacob had the vast majority of his classes with the fourth year Gryffindors, but he'd never actually talked to any of them, with the exception of Hermione. Harry and Jacob just kind of stared at each other for a few awkward moments. Both boys' nervousness was palpable. Jacob knew that Harry Potter and the majority of Slytherin House were not on the best of terms, to say the least. It must have been surreal when Hermione had found Harry and explained to the poor guy that an American Slytherin wanted to help him. Jacob, for his part, was scared how Harry would react. Would he scorn him like the overwhelming majority of his house? Or would he forge his own opinions? Jacob couldn't be sure. And, if most of the stories about Harry Potter and the Slytherins were true, than he wasn't sure if he could blame Harry for hating him.
A bit of color returned to the raven-haired boy's face when he shook his head. He looked at Jacob again.
"How did you find out what the first task was and why are you helping me?" Harry asked, rather frankly and with a visible frown dominating his features.
"Harry!" Hermione gasped. She couldn't seem to believe that her friend would so blatantly question Jacob's motives. Jacob thought her a slight bit naïve for that. "Jacob risked getting detention, or worse, to tell you this. At least hear him out."
Harry shook his head. "I never said I wouldn't listen to him, Hermione. I'm just suspicious. You know that Slytherin House and I are not on a first name basis. I just want my questions answered before I take what he says at face value," Harry explained patiently. His eyes never left Jacob's face while he explained.
For his part, Jacob couldn't help but respect Harry's well-reasoned arguments, even if the accusations slightly stung. Jacob cleared his voice, hoping to clear his name with Harry.
"I learned about the first task from Professor Hagrid," Jacob began without preamble. He saw Hermione open her mouth, probably to object Jacob needing to justify himself. He just shook his head at Hermione and gave her a look that, hopefully, said he didn't mind explaining. Hermione's eyes seemed to soften. She remained silent.
"Hagrid mentioned that he knew you and Hermione. I assume you don't have to spend much time with the man to realize he can't keep a secret about anything he is especially passionate about." Jacob noticed small nods and smiles from both Harry and Hermione. "I went to his class earlier today. Evidently, I didn't receive a note from him saying that today's class was cancelled. Luckily, he was there to explain that before I wasted my entire morning. He said he was helping with something for Professor Dumbledore. Hagrid then proceeded to spill the beans about how he was assisting some dragon keepers with their scaly friends in a heavily warded part of the Forbidden Forest. He made me promise not to tell anyone who it didn't concern. I was told the species of the four dragons, where they came from, and other specifics about the creatures, but not of the task itself. As for why I'm helping you… You seem like a decent guy. You obviously don't want to be in this competition. The fact that you're being forced to is sickening to me. It occurred to me that anyone without prior knowledge of the coming task would likely be slaughtered during it. I also enjoy Hermione's companionship and know that she has been worried about you," Jacob finished, feeling rather out of breath. He hadn't spoken that much in a single stretch in as long as he could remember. He could feel his jaw protesting.
Harry just sat on desk, looking thoughtful. He was no doubt trying to ascertain the truthfulness behind Jacob's story. Hermione put her hands on her hips and looked at Harry.
"Well, Harry? Do you see that you can trust Jacob now?" Jacob lowered his face, blushing at the subtle compliment. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry nod.
"Yeah, I think I can. So how do I defeat it?"
This shocked Jacob right out of his embarrassment. He felt his mouth open.
"Wha-what makes you thinks that I know how to beat a dragon? I'm only a second year."
"Yes, but you're obviously smart. You are in classes two years ahead of your age group. Not to mention that Hermione didn't shut up about you last night. She claims that you're a savant with anything to do with magical creatures," Harry finished with a good-natured smirk directed at Hermione, who seemed to be slightly blushing herself now.
Jacob, despite what would have happened under normal circumstances, was not blushing. Not in the slightest. Here was someone who was asking for his help, and in his favorite subject to boot! He studied Harry's face, looking for any sign on his face that he would, at a later date, turn on him and mock him for his 'freaky' intelligence. He found none. Jacob found that two pairs of eyes were on him. He sighed.
"There are several ways. Some are easier than others. But I need to know about your abilities and which areas of magic you excel in. Can we discuss it at dinner?" Jacob finished rather sheepishly.
"Yeah! Of course. Thanks, mate. You can sit with us at dinner." Harry said, this time, with a genuine grin. Jacob, however, could only frown.
"Won't people get upset if I sit at the Gryffindor table? It wouldn't do to be seen consorting with a snake," Jacob added bitterly.
Harry snorted. "My name has been mud recently. Most people seem to think that I'm out to steal Diggory's glory. I don't give a rip what they think, and neither should you."
Jacob snorted. "It's your reputation, Harry. But you've got a deal." On that, the two young men shook hands and, with a delighted squeal from Hermione, were towed to the Great Hall for dinner.
Hermione, Harry, and Jacob sat at the back of the Gryffindor table. At Jacob's insistence, they had made a quick pit stop at the Slytherin common room. Jacob didn't want to attract more attention to himself than necessary. Since classes were finished for the day, school rules stated that a student could wear muggle clothing the rest of the evening if they so desired. Jacob intended to fully take advantage of this rule and attempt to blend in at the Gryffindor table. He had switched into a pair of casual jeans and a plain black t-shirt. Jacob always had preferred muggle clothing and was used to it. It was much more comfortable than formal wizarding robes.
And so, as they sat in the corner of the Great Hall, no one looked twice at the young American eating his dinner with The-Boy-Who-Lived and the smartest witch of the generation.
"So, what are your strengths, Harry?" Jacob asked after taking a sip of pumpkin juice. Though he liked pumpkin pie, something about drinking pumpkin juice made him cringe, and he elected to have water the rest of his stay at Hogwarts. No sooner had he decided this, a goblet with fresh cold water appeared in front of him. Even though he had been at Hogwarts for several months, he still couldn't get used to some of the incredible enchantments that made life so much easier here.
"Um. I'm pretty good at Defense, and I guess decent at my other subjects," Harry said lamely. Hermione chimed in.
"He's brilliant at Defense and he's pretty good at Charms as well," she explained. "You needn't be so modest, Harry. The better representation of your skills that Jacob has, the more he can potentially help you. Right?" This last part was directed at Jacob, who gave a quick nod to her before returning his gaze to Harry.
"What she said," Harry muttered.
"Any other special skills?"
"Nope. I mean, I'm a pretty good flyer."
"Anything else?" Jacob made a quick note on a sheet of parchment with a pen. Hermione seemed to notice this and questioned his choice in writing devices.
"Why in the name of Merlin's pants would I use a quill? A pen is much handier and cheaper. I don't have to buy ink. Besides, this is what we do in America."
"Won't you get in trouble? You know, with the teachers?" Jacob frowned at her question.
"It hasn't been a problem yet. If the teachers end up having a problem with it, they can let me know. Until then, a pen is my weapon of choice. You British are behind the times." Jacob finished with a smile. He turned back to Harry. "Anything else," he repeated.
"Nope," Harry said. He paused before adding, in a hushed whisper, "You can help me, right? I don't want it to be too much of a bother, but I…" He trailed off.
"Don't want to get decimated by a two ton dragon?" Jacob supplied helpfully. Harry flinched, but nodded his affirmative. "It's no problem at all, Harry. Now, do you know the Enlargement Charm?"
Harry nodded his head. Hermione was looking befuddled with Jacob's inquiry. 'No doubt she's trying to figure out what my plan is,' thought Jacob. He made a few more notes. "Okay, I think I've got a basic game plan. Can you meet me in that same classroom by the library two hours before dinner tomorrow? We can get started then."
Both Harry and Hermione agreed to the plan, and after bidding Jacob goodnight, retired to the Gryffindor Common Room. Jacob got up shortly later (he didn't think that the remaining Gryffindors would tolerate him being alone at their table) and turned to make his way to the Slytherin Common Room.
He hadn't gotten five feet out of the Great Hall when he felt a large shadow eclipsing all light from behind him. Jacob shifted all of his body's weight to his left foot, pivoted around, wand in hand, and prepared to hex his attacker. Instead of a bully, or anyone who might potentially mean him harm, Jacob found his head of house at the end of his wand, one eyebrow cocked, calm as could be. Jacob immediately withdrew his wand and returned it to its forearm holster.
"I'm so sorry, Professor," Jacob said ashamed. He couldn't bring himself to meet Professor Snape's eyes. He'd nearly attacked the man for Merlin's sake! Jacob mentally chastised himself for being so paranoid. He reminded himself that he wasn't back in America anymore.
"Quite alright, Mr. Matrin. Your reactions, however, beg a question. Who did you think I was?" Snape inquired, his left eyebrow never leaving its perch.
"I thought you were an attacker," Jacob responded lamely. Snape merely shook his head. 'Probably reminding himself he doesn't care,' Jacob thought amused. He liked the dry humored potions master. It didn't hurt, of course, that the bat like man greatly favored his own house, but Jacob believed he would have liked him regardless of how his sorting turned out. There was something about the man that Jacob found oddly endearing.
"Very well," came the drawling voice. "The Headmaster would like to speak with you before you retire for the night. The password is 'lemon drop'." With his message delivered, the man swept past Jacob, cloak billowing from the suddenness of the movement. Jacob shook his head and took several deep breaths to calm his now pounding heart. He began making his way to the Headmaster's office.
Jacob, upon arriving at the stone gargoyle that stood guard over the entrance to the Headmaster's office, gave the password and watched as the statue moved aside, revealing a spiraling staircase. The young Slytherin rode the stairs to the top. Jacob had ridden muggle elevators before, but none of them had been spiraling.
He found himself facing a large wooden door. As he raised his hand to knock, Jacob heard a voice call out, "Enter." Jacob inwardly smiled at the ridiculous rumors of the Headmaster's omniscience. Jacob knew that no person could claim to know everything, though he had to admit that Hogwarts' Headmaster did seem to have more than his fair share. Pushing his thoughts aside, Jacob opened the door and stepped into the office.
Normally upon entering the office for the first time, a student would be in awe of all of the magical contraptions, ancient scrolls, paintings of former headmasters, and the ever-present phoenix that decorated the room. However, Jacob had been here multiple times over the summer since his arrival in Britain.
He took his place, standing in front of the Headmaster's desk. Jacob sat down at a wave of Dumbledore's hand. "You wished to see me, sir?" Jacob asked curiously. To his knowledge, he hadn't broken any rules, certainly not any rules that would garner Dumbledore's attention. Unless this call was purely social in nature, Jacob was clueless as to its purpose.
"Yes, thank you for joining me, Jacob," Dumbledore began, putting his hands on his desk. "No doubt you are probably wondering if you are in trouble, to which the answer is no." He added this last part with a small smile directed at Jacob. "I simply wished to see how you were adjusting to life here at Hogwarts. Despite having been here for several months during the summer, I'm sure you've realized by now that Hogwarts is quite different during the school year. I have been meaning to check up on you for some time, but, alas, the tournament, along with my other duties, has kept me without much free time."
Jacob was touched. Of the hundreds of individuals he had come in contact here at Hogwarts, only Hermione Granger, and now Headmaster Dumbledore, had bothered to ask him how he was fitting in. One might think that because of the close ties that America and Britain had shared in the past that their magical communities would be similar as well and that adjusting from one to the other would not be a difficult endeavor. Nothing could be further from the truth. Magical American society was much more modern, in both its thinking and its technology, than its British counterpart. At Hogwarts, Jacob was often the subject of whispers for using a pen instead of the traditional quill and ink. In America, however, the use of pens was the norm, while those who used quills were often regarded as old-fashioned and out of touch with the world. The differences didn't end there. Paper was used in place of parchment, for example. Few Pureblood supremacists existed in America, largely due to the fact that during the colonial days, many Pureblood families had refused to even consider leaving Britain. Magicals that did leave were often Muggleborn witches and wizards tired of being treated as second-class citizens.
Werewolves were not openly persecuted against. True, in America laws did exist that required a werewolf to register as such. This was understandable considering the nature of the disease. Werewolves also had to provide proof of a dwelling that could contain them during their transformations. If they could not afford one, the American Ministry of Magic provided government sponsored facilities that served the same purpose. To use them, a werewolf only had to pay a small monthly fee. Other than that, American werewolves were often left to do as they pleased. Recently, several mental healthcare facilities had opened with the express purpose of helping werewolves come to terms with the reality of their lives. Vampires enjoyed much the same treatment, as did other races that were considered "sub-human" in Britain.
Dumbledore's gentle voice prodded Jacob from his thoughts, reminding him why he was sitting with one of the greatest wizards alive. Jacob knew that the Headmaster was taking time out of his undoubtedly busy schedule just to check up on him, and it made him feel… odd, but in a good way. 'The least I can do is indulge him,' Jacob thought.
"I'm doing fine, sir." Dumbledore motioned for him to continue. "Most of my classes are going well. Especially Care of Magical Creatures. I find that Professor Hagrid's hands on approach to be very refreshing from the largely theoretical class I had in America. Potions is still a slightly difficult subject for me. But I find Professor Snape's dry humor to help make the experience more enjoyable." At this, the elderly wizard chuckled.
"I've heard many things said about Professor Snape's teaching habits, but I do believe that his 'dry humor', as you put it, has never made it into one of those reports. But, I digress. Please continue, my boy."
Jacob flashed a grin at the headmaster before continuing, "I've also recently begun spending some free time with Hermione Granger, and through her acquaintance, Harry Potter."
Dumbledore's eyes seemed to twinkle at the mention of Harry's name. "Interesting. I would think that, due to your sorting, you would be rather incompatible with Mr. Potter." When it looked as though Jacob would object to this line of thinking, Dumbledore began speaking again. "I'm not discouraging your fledgling friendship. Quite the contrary. House rivalries tend to get in the way of students making friendships. This is especially true of both Gryffindor and Slytherin houses. To see that you are making friends outside of your own house gives me hope that the four houses may eventually learn to trust one another. My curiosity is peaked, however. Do you not have friends within Slytherin house?"
Jacob looked slightly abashed and muttered something unintelligible as way of reply. When the aging headmaster asked him to speak up, Jacob said, with no small amount of defiance, "Most of them are too bigoted and cannot look past the fact that I am a Half-blood."
Dumbledore frowned. "Surely not all of your house can feel that way."
Jacob glanced at the headmaster and said, "No, but those who would befriend me tend to get run off by more… influential members of the house, if you catch my drift."
Unfortunately, Professor Dumbledore did catch his drift. He was no foreigner to politics, and he knew that politics were huge in Slytherin house. Finding a way to manipulate, cajole, and bribe fellow students into doing what they wanted was what many of the less savory members of Slytherin did to amuse themselves. Dumbledore shook himself from his thoughts and turned his attention to the young man in front of him. Though he did not outwardly reflect it, the old headmaster felt great sorrow when he looked at Jacob. Given the poor boy's history – even if Jacob himself was not aware of it – he deserved some measure of peace. But fate seemed to disagree and saw fit to land him in a house where backstabbing and beliefs of Pureblood supremacy was common.
The silver lining, of course, was the young American seemed to have found himself a friend or two in Ms. Granger and Mr. Potter. Albus Dumbledore could not think of two kinder Gryffindors for Jacob to befriend. However, given tensions between Gryffindor and Slytherin, the elderly wizard could not help but think that their friendships may cause problems of their own. Very few Slytherins (and Gryffindors for that matter) would take kindly to and interactions between members of the two houses, unless said interaction took the form of hexing one another in the corridors. Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, recipient of the Order of Merlin - First Class, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and the man who defeated the dark lord Grindewald, could not find it in his heart to inform the young man of this. Instead, he opted to speak with the boy for several more minutes about his new life at Hogwarts before sending him to bed.
After Jacob left, the Headmaster sighed. Between Harry's entrance into the Triwizard Tournament, the Death Eater attack at the Quidditch World Cup, and Jacob's arrival in wizarding Britain – those this last event was not necessarily bad – Albus Dumbledore could not help but feel that he was in for another busy year at Hogwarts.
Dumbledore paused in his musings. He rose from his chair and made his way over to a cabinet, only stopping to scratch Fawkes on his head. Upon reaching the cabinet, the elderly wizard opened the doors and withdrew a stone basin, littered with runic symbols. He withdrew his wand and pressed the tip to his right temple. When he began moving his wand away from his skull, an ethereal, silver wisp followed, as though it was connected to his wand. With a flick of his wrist, the strand of light detached from his wand and slowly fell into the basin.
His process complete, the headmaster turned back to his desk, eyeing the large stack of papers with some trepidation. Despite the many mysterious happenings that had occurred as of late, one thing was certain. It was going to be a long night, and an even lengthier year.