Off to Camp
Regulus
Regulus woke up to a shrill noise that just wouldn't leave him alone. After about half a minute of lying motionless in bed, he realised that the noise was his alarm clock. With a lazy movement, he switches off the alarm clock and sits up in bed.
He blinks a few times before getting up and entering his bathroom. Yes, he had his own bathroom. Because Grimmauld Place was huge and his family had enough money. He splashed some water on his face and made sure his curls were all in place. Mother detested anything less than perfect.
Regulus was just leaving his room when Walburga came up the stairs. ‘Regulus! Get ready, we-’
When her eyes fell on Regulus, she curled her lips into a small smile. She wrapped her arms around her chest and swayed slowly back and forth. ‘Oh, my darling boy. Already so independent. You were always better than... the other one.’
Regulus tried not to flinch at these words. The other one. Sirius. His brother. His perfect reflection. Regulus wasn’t better. He was just easier to control. He had always been the more timid brother.
It was quiet in the car. Walburga didn't drive herself, they had a chauffeur. Not that she was in any condition to drive. Her breath betrayed her. But Regulus was clever enough not to mention it to his mother. ‘I'm relying on you to know what to do,’ she says. She doesn't look at him.
‘Yes, Mother’ Regulus replies.
Walburga glances at him from the side as she begins to speak again: ‘Make alliances with the influential. Children of the mighty deities. And stay away from the riff-raff.’ At this point, she wrinkles her nose. ‘And whatever you do, if you see him, stay away.’
Regulus didn't have to ask who it was about. He also didn't say anything about the fact that they would probably be sleeping in the same cabin. That would only upset his mum unnecessarily.
Finally, the car came to a stop and Walburga got out. She motioned for him to do the same. The car then drove away again.
Regulus cleared his throat. ‘Mother, why are we standing here, on this hill?’.
Before Walburga could answer him, someone came up to them. The guy had blond hair and was slightly chubby. Judging by the horns and goat legs, he was a satyr. ‘Good afternoon, Ms Black. My name is Peter Pettigrew. I'm here to escort you to camp.’
Regulus looked at his mother, who had contorted her face into a scowl.
‘You're supposed to escort us?’ she replied. Her voice dripped with disgust. Regulus almost feels sorry for the satyr.
Peter seems to shrink under Walburga's gaze as he clears his throat quietly and attempts a shaky smile. ‘Well, I'm trained, after all. Camp Half-Blood often hires satyrs to pick up the demi-gods.
Walburga then turns to Regulus. ‘In that case, you can go alone. You know I can't stand the presence of-’ she gives Peter another hateful look, ’-half-creatures.’
At this last remark, she curls her lips into a cruel smile. ‘Good luck, my little boy. And don't disappoint me.’
The Black family car pulls up and Walburga gets in. Regulus looks after the car, as it drove away.
Peter next to him clears his throat. ‘Well, we should probably go then. We don't want to attract monsters. Hurry up.’ Reluctantly, Regulus follows the satyr up the hill. When they finally reach the top, there is a single pine tree.
‘That's Marlene's tree,’ explains Peter. ‘It marks the boundary of our camp.’
Regulus doesn't answer.
Peter smiles. ‘You know, for being Sirius' brother, you talk surprisingly little.’
Regulus gives him a deadly look.
‘I don't have a brother.’