*busts down the door*

BOOM BABY! I'm back! *mumbles* After two years….

Anyways, I'm back! At least I hope I will be. Why is it that I only get struck with inspiration when there's something else going on that is probably more important than writing fanfiction?

I have decided to take option 2, that is to write little chapters from various times throughout the school year, focusing more on the relationships between characters than the book's plot. The updates will be quite sporadic, I really have no clue when inspiration will strike.

I'm also a lot more active on Ao3 now. I write for a couple different fandoms there: Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, Voltron, and Sanders Sides. Also, my writing style has developed a bit since I last updated this, so there'll probably be a noticeable change from previous chapters.

Also, I'm thinking of writing this in third person POV in the future. What do y'all think?

edit: Thanks IDidn'tSignUp4This for telling me that the formatting was messed up. I hope this fixes it.

Lightning Boi Bonding Time

HARRY

It wasn't very often that I was the first to wake up in my dorm room. I wasn't the last, that honour normally belonged to Ron, but I still was practically never the first.

But there I was, at some ungodly hour, watching dust swirl in the rays of sunlight beaming through my bed-curtains. I was incredibly glad that it was Saturday. This term had dragged on and on and on for far too long.

I got out of bed and got dressed, and made my way down to the common room. Thankfully, given how early it was, my favourite armchair by the fire was vacant, and I settled comfortably into it. I unrolled a piece of parchment, and got to writing.

But not at all, because I couldn't think of anything to say. How was I supposed to tell Sirius everything that had happened, about my weird dreams and the events of the past week, when the post was crawling with Letter-Thieves? Okay, so maybe that's a bit dramatic, but still. I finally appreciated how hard it must have been for Ron and Hermione to write me letters over the summer.

The sound of quiet footsteps brought me out of my mopey internal monologue. The firelight illuminated a head of blonde hair, electric blue eyes, and a scarred lip. It was Jason, looking very much like a man caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"I didn't know that anyone would be down here," he said, tugging down the sleeve of his purple shirt.

I managed to catch a glimpse of black ink on his forearm before it was concealed by the fabric. Wait… Jason couldn't be a Death Eater. He was too nice! Maybe I was jumping to conclusions. I had been wrong about people before. But I decided in that moment that I would have to keep my eye on him. And his compatriots.

Compatriots. What a big word. Hermione would be proud.

I quickly rolled up my would-be-letter. "I woke up early, I guess."

Jason's lips quirked into an awkward smile. "At camp we always had to get up with the sun, make the most of the day and all that jazz. Well…" He paused, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "We technically didn't, but I always did."

"Camp?" I asked.

Jason's eyes widened. "That's what we call our magic school. It's a lot like a magic camp, rather than a serious fancy school like this one. It's for what people would call problem children, so it's a lot more relaxed."

"I have trouble believing that you were a problem child."

"One of the big wizarding schools in America is Ilvermorny, right? Well, everyone at camp has something that would make them…" He paused, as if searching for the right word. "Well… not disruptive, but I can't think of a better word so that'll have to do. The most common things for us to have are ADHD and dyslexia, which make learning in a traditional environment somewhat difficult. That's why camp was founded."

"That's actually really cool," I said. "I wish I could go there."

"It's in America, but I might be able to put in a good word for you," he joked.

"Thanks mate, but I'm pretty good here at Hogwarts."

He snickered, then sobered up quickly. "I still don't understand why the founders of this place chose to call it Hogwarts of all things."

"Me neither."

At this point, a few people had started to trickle down from the dorms. Frank was one of them, wearing what looked like the same purple shirt as Jason. Across the front of the shirt the letters SPQR were written in gold. Jason's shirt was slightly more faded, but they were still the same shirt.

"Good morning, Harry," Frank said, lips curled into a slight smile.

"Morning," I replied.

A muffled groan reached my ears as Nico shuffled into the room. His hair fell into his eyes in an artfully shaggy way that my hair could never achieve, and unlike the other two he wore a black shirt with a skull on the front, tight black jeans and a too-big aviator's jacket. A silver ring glinted on his finger.

Internally, I was confused. It couldn't have been later than half-past-six, on a Saturday. But the three exchange students were all up. Now, one would be nothing suspicious, and two could be written off as a coincidence. But all three? There was no way this was coincidental.

"Hello Nico," I said, trying my best to be friendly.

I was answered with a grunt.

Frank gave an uneasy grin, ushering Nico past me and out of the common room. Jason smiled tiredly.

"Don't worry about him, he's just not much of a morning person." He paused. "Actually, do you know where the kitchens are?"

"Why do you want to know?" I asked. "Breakfast isn't too far away."

"Frank, Nico and I were planning to go down to the lake to meet up with our friends." he said. "The whole different houses thing means that we haven't gotten to talk to each other much."

"Didn't Annabeth say that your school was split into like, twenty cabins?"

Jason shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, but there we have a lot more free time to spend with each other between classes. Here you're expected to spend all your time with your house-groups."

"Your house is like your family here," I said, confused. "Why would you want to make friends with people in other houses? Especially Slytherin." I shuddered.

"Why does everyone think so badly about Slytherin?" He asked.

I raised an eyebrow. "Mate, there's not a Dark wizard or witch alive who didn't come from Slytherin."

"By that line of reasoning you could say that there isn't a Dark wizard or witch who didn't come from Hogwarts," Jason pointed out, lips only twitching slightly when he said the school's name.

I spluttered.

"Anyway," Jason continued. "The kitchens?"

"Down by the Hufflepuff dorms." I said absently, still trying to process what he said. "There's a painting of a bowl of fruit, if you tickle the pear it'll let you in."

He grinned. "Thanks Harry."

With that, he swept out of the room, and I was left staring at the back of the Fat Lady's portrait as it swung closed behind him.