do stories require plot
Jason’s introduction to his new dormitory starts with a fight.
He’d previously been getting acquainted with the Gryffindor common room, talking to Thalia and Reyna. They’d been discussing their plans to meet up later to get updates on all of the others, and had all unanimously agreed to go grab their clothes so that they could leave.
However, that plan was slightly broken up by the fact that Jason isn’t really sure if he should just leave his new roommates to brawl it out.
To be honest, he isn’t really sure what the etiquette is in this particular situation.
Harry is kneeling on his bed with his wand pointed at Seamus, who is standing in the center of the room with his fists raised. Ron is standing in front of the door, his ears burning red, and the three of them had clearly been yelling at each other, though they’d paused to watch Jason as he entered the room. Dean and Neville, another two of his new roommates, are standing to the side, watching the confrontation silently.
They were clearly off-balanced with him here; they’d spent the last four years sharing a dorm only for some newcomer to join randomly, which Jason could empathize with.
“What’s going on?” Jason finally asks.
Harry and Seamus both scowl, most of the heat directed at one another.
“Nothing.” They both snap.
Jason had spent enough time watching his friends fight to know when “nothing” was most definitely not nothing, but he barely knew his new roommates and decided stepping in was a bad idea.
From what he understood, wizard culture wasn’t too violent when it came to small disputes, so as long as they didn’t try to kill each other, Jason was fine with it.
It seems that whatever they’d said previously had been enough to finish the argument, however, because Seamus gets back into bed and pulls the hangings shut with a bit more force than necessary.
The air is tense and loaded with unsaid words, but clearly nobody is interested in continuing the argument with Jason there, so he shuffles over to his new bed. He’d already unpacked all of his things upon arrival, making his part of the room significantly neater than the rest.
Jason is fully ignored as he pulls off his cloak and hangs it neatly on his bed frame, but when he grabs a light jacket and his shoes, Harry’s eyes snap to him.
“Where are you going?” He asks, a hard, suspicious edge to his voice.
At his words, everybody else starts to pay attention as well, and Jason shifts uncomfortably at the weight of their gazes.
“I’m heading downstairs,” he finally responds. “I promised I’d meet up with my friends, just to check up on them.”
Ron and Harry glance at each other, silent messages passing before them.
(They’re close, Jason notes passively, closer than most muggle or even wizarding friendships he’d seen. The sort of closeness brought from tough choices and hard experiences, that binds people together.)
“You can’t, it’s already past curfew.” Ron finally says, instinctively fiddling with the golden Prefect badge pinned onto his shirt.
Jason suppresses a frown. “Curfew? Nobody told me about a curfew.”
“You’re not allowed to be in the corridors after ten.” Ron responds.
Jason nods, pretending to be unbothered, but he’s already thinking about ways around this.
What type of security is there? Don’t ask, that’s suspicious. Consequences? He won’t get caught. Shift your feet awkwardly, look disappointed, but not too much. Sit back down, pretend like you have all of the time in the world.
Jason wishes for the hundredth time that conversations could be like sword-fights. He knows how to sword-fight.
Ron seems to believe him though, because he nods. “Better not to risk it, else Filch’ll catch you.”
“Filch?” Jason asks, actually confused.
Harry nods. “He’s the Hogwarts caretaker here. He and his cat, Mrs. Norris, patrol the halls. They’ll catch you.”
Everybody seems especially insistent that Jason shouldn’t go, so he forces his body to relax and sits up on his bed casually.
“Alright then. I’ll just go in the morning.” Jason pauses for a moment, thinking fast. “Where’s the bathroom?” He asks.
Dean points to a door at the side of their dorm, and Jason thanks him with a smile before entering quickly.
There’s no natural light, but Jason has one of the small glass prisms that he’d brought with him and is able to make a quick makeshift rainbow. After a quick check to make sure the room is (fairly) soundproof, he tosses a golden drachma into the rainbow and IM’s Reyna.
The iris message clears, revealing Reyna’s serious face walking through a darkened corridor, accompanied by his sister.
“Jason?” Reyna asks, clearly surprised.
Jason wastes no time in explaining the situation, and Reyna nods thoughtfully, already deep in thought.
“We could just meet in the morning, I guess.” Jason suggests quietly, after she doesn’t respond.
Reyna shakes her head abruptly. “No, it’d be best if we go now. Annabeth told me that Percy was summoned to the Headmasters’ office, and we really should be filled in on what happened. Plus, we’ll get more privacy now, when everyone’s asleep.”
Reyna and Thalia stop in the corridor, flattening themselves to the wall in perfect sync. For a moment, the three of them are silent, but the two girls must have decided the threat was gone because they start walking again.
“Look, just wait a couple minutes and then sneak out. Everyone’s really tired from the Great Feast and are practically falling into food comas.” Thalia suggests.
Jason groans quietly, but finally nods and ends the call, before impatiently waiting for five minutes.
When he finally steps out of the bathroom, everyone’s already fast asleep, most of them with their bed hangings closed. The bed hangings must have some sort of magical muting property, because he can only hear the soft breaths of those without them shut.
It’s irritating, but he’ll live.
Quietly he creeps over to his bed, pulling on his jacket and shoes. Once done, he slips out of the dorm with soft feet.
The common room is completely empty, and dark save for the embers of the fire in the fireplace.
The portrait that doubles as an entrance to their common room swings open at his command, and the woman in the portrait known as the Fat Lady can barely open her mouth to tell him off before he disappears down the corridor.
The castle is almost completely empty now, except for — if Jason remembers correctly — an old man and his cat. He chuckles silently to himself as he remembers the vicious harpies back at Camp who would probably tear him into shreds for sneaking out. Compared to the security system back at home, Hogwarts’ was nearly nonexistent.
Jason’s trip through the corridor is almost entirely uneventful. He meets a few teachers in the halls(including the infamous Filch), but is able to easily hear them before they get into sight and slips into the shadows until they pass.
The benefits of being in a war, Jason guesses.
The only odd thing about the trip was that Jason swears he could occasionally hear the soft sounds of people breathing or the swish of fabric against skin, but every time he turns around to survey his surroundings he finds nothing unusual.
Eventually, after checking behind him for the third time, he speeds up and runs silently through the halls, only stopping after he is sure he can hear nothing more.
It takes him another ten minutes to arrive at their chosen meet-up spot, and that was mostly due to the fact that he kept getting lost.
He must be the last person to arrive, because everybody’s already waiting, most of them sitting in old rickety chairs. The room appears to be some sort of unused classroom, with an old dusty chalkboard and dozens of tables and chairs in various different stages of disrepair.
Annabeth stands up at Jason’s arrival, giving him a satisfied nod.
“Jason, finally. What took you so long, man?” Leo complains from where he lays sprawled out on an old table.
Jason huffs and gingerly takes a seat on a chair, which looks like it’s about to break any second now. “Sorry, ran into trouble.”
“Fun trouble?” Leo asks, sitting up. From beside him Piper rolls her eyes, and Jason holds back a smile.
“No, more like roommates-are-sticklers-for-the-rules trouble.” He replies.
Leo deflates. “Aww, that’s the worst kind!”
“Wait, you’re rooming with Harry Potter, right?” Percy interjects.
Jason glances over at him. “Uhh, yeah. Why?”
Percy shrugs. “Guy’s kinda suspicious, don’t you think? He was there when I went to talk to Dumbledore, with these two other kids.”
Annabeth studies her boyfriend intently. “You think he’s the Prophecy kid?” She asks.
Percy shrugs. “It fits, doesn’t it? Plus, he could see the Thestrals, and a lot of people are talking about him for some reason.”
“Harry Potter is supposedly the only guy who’s ever survived the killing curse,” Piper cuts in casually. “And last year he apparently saw Voldemort — that evil guy — come back to life, or something. But the Ministry says that’s not true, so he’s basically been branded as a giant liar.”
Everyone stares at her silently, at a loss of words.
“What?” She asks, smirking. “People like to tell me things.”
“Okay, so either Harry’s a giant fraud or he’s the Prophecy kid.” Annabeth summarizes impassively. “Percy, anything else?” She asks.
Percy shrugs lazily from his chair. “Uhhh… well, one of the people there was a werewolf, which is interesting, I guess.” He pauses for a moment, thinking. “Oh, actually, Dumbledore mentioned that they are centaurs in the Forbidden Forest, funnily enough. And, apparently, they can tell the future?”
Leo whistles. “Sweet. Wish we could give Chiron that upgrade.”
There’s a loud stomping sound as someone steps on Leo’s foot.
“Ow!” He says, glancing around wildly to find the culprit. When nobody steps forward, he settles for glaring around the room in warning.
“DId the centaurs here say anything? Perhaps related to the prophecy?” Jason prompts.
Percy shakes his head. “No, only that ‘Mars is bright tonight,’ which isn’t great. I’m not sure how accurate these centaurs are, but if they’re anything like Rachel, we should be worried.”
Everyone looks slightly downcast at Percy’s words, especially the idea of having to go through another war, but they collectively forge on.
“Okay, well I think our main goal is to figure out and eliminate the threat. While we don’t know exactly what the prophecy says, we know that it involves this ‘Chosen One’ that is required to kill it, so all we need to do is protect this guy from outside influences.” Frank says.
“Wow, that sounds like a piece of cake.” Percy says sarcastically.
“Hecate said that our world is bleeding into theirs, and all we’re supposed to do in this quest is keep those effects to a minimum.” Hazel says succinctly.
“It's a little hard to do that when we’re not sure what’s a threat from our world and what’s a threat from theirs.” Thalia says tiredly.
Suddenly, Percy sits up alert. Almost immediately, Jason jerks his head towards the door, watching cautiously.
“Someone’s coming,” Percy says, dropping his voice toa whisper. Jason glances at Nico instinctively, but the younger demigod just frowns.
“I told the ghosts not to bother us, and to let us know if anyone comes this way.” He says.
Percy cocks his head to the side, as though listening. Jason’s stomach churns as he realizes that he’s not listening for sound, but for blood. At his side, he can see Annabeth shift uneasily.
The door creaks ominously, and Percy settles into his chair again, looking for all intents and purposes completely comfortable.
“So, how are your guys’ common rooms?” He asks casually. His message is clear: Play along.
Everybody in the room races to answer, mumbling over each other about four-poster beds and their new roommates.
“Real nice-”
“-There’s a fireplace and everything-”
“-Met this nice guy who gave me a tour-”
When Jason concentrates, he can feel the air shift slightly behind him, and the hairs on his neck prickle at the idea of an invisible foe.
Conversation, meanwhile, slips on, as everybody attempts to make their meeting seem as innocent as possible.
The group waits patiently for Percy to give them the all-clear, but as five minutes turns into ten and he still hasn’t relaxed, Jason begins wondering if they need to change tactics.
Apparently their eavesdroppers were the stubborn type.
Annabeth, it seems, had gotten the same idea, because she nudges Percy insistently, a crafty smile growing on her face.
“Hey, don’t you guys think the wizards and witches here are kind of nosy?” She asks innocently.
For a moment, there’s a slight pause, as everyone tries to figure out what she’s trying to do.
Percy, finally catching on, smiles crookedly. “I know, right? I just feel like they’re always listening.”
For a moment, his gaze is shifted on Jason and the others, but then it travels forward, all the way to the door, where he stares at an empty spot with pure focus.
“And they have a nasty habit of eavesdropping.”