POV Remus
I had been at Camp Half-Blood for a week already when someone banged on the door of the Athena cabin, a box that was clearly too heavy in his arms.
"Open up, I’m supposed to give you this. It’s from Dumbledore!" he shouted, not bothering about the fact that the sun hadn’t even risen yet.
James, my half-brother and bunk neighbor — Athena wanted us all to develop a sense of mutual support so we’re all sleeping in the same room — responded, eyes still closed, “Shut up, Sirius.”
“You know, I can hear you even through the door. Your walls are thin."
Our delivery guy dropped off his package, and we heard his footsteps fade away on the gravel.
It only took a few minutes for me to fall back asleep. Of course, a few hours later, I woke up in a state of panic at the thought of having missed breakfast. Being late was not an option. I still remembered the looks thrown my way: every arrival of a new recruit was a small event for the demigods. We weren’t that many, at least compared to previous centuries, and I wasn’t reclaimed by a godly parent during my first days here. After Athena had shown her mark, everything had calmed down a bit. Fortunately, another boy had arrived yesterday, and the attention shifted. His name was Peter. I was dipping my spoon into my porridge when he, the new guy, asked us to sit at our table.
"We’re not going to let you eat on the floor or... with Mr. D." James jokes, sliding onto the bench to make room for him.
Dionysus was already on his fifth glass of the day. The image of the unopened box kept running through my mind. And more vivid was the curiosity of knowing who this ‘Sirius’ was.
"Son of Hades. He usually sleeps only three hours a night so Dumbledore is taking advantage of it to be his go-to guy,” James informed us.
“Dumbledore?” Peter said.
"The centaur who welcomed you last night. Old, white beard, Santa Claus type of man."
Peter went back to his jam toast. He still struggled to string together more than a few words without his voice trembling. He undoubtedly missed his family…
"Sirius wasn’t lacking in confidence, that’s for sure. Does that happen often?" I inquired.
"No, we should be fine. Speaking of the devil!" James spotted, as Sirius made his way to us. “Hi mate.”
“Hi Prongs!”
He wasn’t at all what I had imagined: standing in front of us was a somewhat scrawny teenager with curly hair that fell to his shoulders. Not having noticed me at first—or perhaps deliberately ignoring me until now—he studied me without shame.
“Nice to meet you, my name’s Sirius.”
“Remus.”
“I know, everyone was talking about you.”
"Next time, try to drop by at normal hours," James said, throwing an apple to Sirius. "And make sure to eat something—we have an archery competition tonight.”
Sirius bit into his fruit right after it.
"It's funny, for two children of Athena, you're very different," Sirius pointed at us.
I didn't really leave James's side. He was my mentor at the camp for the first few days, and he wasn't that unbearable. He paid attention to others and had little gestures for everyone, whether it was handing a bottle of water to Peter or making sure Sirius didn’t forget... pretty much everything. He took the time to answer all my questions and pretended not to have seen me cry at night when things became too difficult. He knew I didn't like being seen as vulnerable, so he acted like nothing was wrong, but I knew he understood.
The archery session came around quickly. Everything was set up as if it were second nature for all demigods to shoot arrows as effortlessly as breathing. Except that I had never touched a weapon in my life and nearly tripped over myself as I stepped up to the line. No one dared to comment out loud, but they certainly didn’t hold back their snickers. What can I say? We were still teenagers, even if we were demigods. Maybe the mockery was even worse when you were forced to live together in a place cut off from the world…
Sirius had chosen a target located at the far left of the line. He was not wearing the standard equipment that was given to everyone else. He shot a few arrows, and only one hit the grass. The rest were firmly embedded in the red zone. He gave a satisfied smile and walked away. In reality, he was just happy to be leaving this mandatory class, not even concerned about winning… Which wasn’t the case for James, who clearly had inherited our mother’s competitive nature. I understood that Sirius was quite ambivalent: there were times when you had to jump with him from one thought to another, and at other times, he was almost unable to respond, completely focused on his task.
"It's the ADHD," James explained one day, as we were getting ready for bed—me with a book on my lap, and him pacing back and forth in our cramped dormitory. "A lot of us are neurodivergent; I guess it comes with the whole godly thing. Sirius might be one of the worst here."
"I think you're pretty bad too," I remarked, tossing my pillow at him. He flipped me off. "Hey, relax!"
"Honestly, it doesn't look like it, but you're pretty wild underneath that nerdy exterior."
"How long have you known Sirius?" I asked.
"Sirius, Sirius, Sirius... You're obsessed," James teased, opening a cupboard to grab a can of soda (and saying hello to his future son maybe, we don’t know).
"Don't be an idiot, he's just... unique?" I tried.
James was good at reading people, and he had probably noticed that I admired the other boy. I don't know why, but thinking about it made me uncomfortable. I hadn’t been able to talk much with Sirius, who always seemed to be glued to James’s side. Every time, it was the three of us, or occasionally with Peter.
"He’s been here since he was about ten. He was claimed right after birth, and trust me, that’s rare. His mortal mother wasn’t very “nice”, and I even think it suited her to get rid of him…”
“That’s pretty violent.”
“Yeah but it’s for the best, believe me.”
Sirius had grown up in France, which explained his very slight accent and his gastronomic habits. His mother, Walburga, had had Sirius while she was married to another man, a wealthy aristocrat named Orion Black, who contented himself with living off his inheritance. Walburga had realized that she could continue to exploit her world and had become a tough matron in a luxury fashion brand: in a way, she had learned to behave like a man when the situation demanded it. From the very beginning, she knew that Sirius’s origin wasn’t human. Frightened by her child or simply disgusted, he had mostly been raised by nurses. His younger brother, Regulus, was a mortal who remained unaware of Sirius’ true identity. He would likely carry deep resentment towards a brother he believed had abandoned him for much of his life. James’s explanations ended there; the rest of the story belonged to Sirius.
“At Christmas, she sends him a greeting card that he throws into the campfire every time," James revealed. "I think that gives you an idea of their relationship."
“Indeed.” I sighed. "Wait, you guys have bonfires in the winter?"
"Mr. D. says it's better to gather by the fire when it's cold.” James justified himself with a shrug.