The First Rule of Summer Camp
01.08.2026 xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx outfit as above
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"...Rule number 13, don't talk to me.
Rule number 14, don't tell people you're my brother.
Rule number 15, refer to rules 5, 6 and 7.
Rule numb—"
"There it is!" As Hogwarts Castle came into view through the copse of trees lining the lake, Owen couldn't help but cut off his brother's droning voice with the excited exclamation.
It was beautiful. There was no shortage of castles and keeps all across the United Kingdoms in various states of repair, including a ruin not far from the Lochridge manor where they resided in Northern Ireland, but Owen had never seen anything remotely near to the grandness of what lay in wait across the lake. No description had done it justice, not even as much as Anrai had tried to play it up in grandiosity for the past two years in attempts to stir jealousy. Owen stood, stunned.
"Are you even listening to me?!"
Surprisingly strong hands connected with Owen's shoulder and jarred him abruptly from his mesmerized state. The unexpected shove sent him careening to the side. Gravel skittered as he tried to catch his balance, but he still hit the ground, knees and hands freshly smudging.
"Oy! What was that fer?" Owen whined and he hastened to stand. Feverishly trying to dust the dirt from his shorts, he bemoaned "...these were new..." just as the adult accompanying them spoke up.
"That is quite enough you two. This is no manner for Lochridges to behave." Hild's typically terse speech cut through the air like knives, a threat of punishment implicit should the rough-housing continue. "You are not plebian chattle without sense or dignity. What would your parents think?—" The commentary continued for some time as they continued on their way. And just like Anrai's incessant talking had faded to little more than background noise, so too did that of their governess.
"Rule number 16," came an indignant hiss beneath the string of Hild's verbal berating. "Stay out of my way." With that, Anrai acted as though nothing had happened, head held high as he marched forward with his oiled leather satchel slung smugly over a shoulder.
Owen scowled at him from behind, but didn't dare say anything lest he attract Hild's ire. It wasn't fair. Anrai always got the last word. It wasn't like it had been his fault. His older brother had been going on and on about this and that for so long during the journey over to the Scottish Highlands that Owen had long stopped paying attention. Why'd he have to make such a big deal about all these rules? Why did there have to be rules in the first place? What had happened to the promise he'd made to ma and da that Anrai would be looking out for his younger brother?
A stone streaked off the path courtesy of a well-placed kick from the toe of Owen's shoe—"Don't kick stones! You'll scuff your loafers!"—and drawing his attention back towards the impressive horizon where Hogwarts loomed in waiting. Like a tonic, the very sight seemed to chase away any residual negative feeling from the immediate moment. Anrai was an eejit, and Owen wasn't about to let him spoil the fun.
By the time they arrived at the campgrounds proper, Anrai was nowhere to be seen—no doubt he'd hurried on ahead to meet up with his friends—and Owen was in high spirits. This was so much better than spending the last month of summer at home, bored, counting down the days until he finally got to join his brother at Hogwarts.
Or, he was pretty sure it was better. There were so many students running around and various staff directing people to cabins or sports sign-ups that it was hard to know where to begin. Moreover, Owen found his attention persistently redirecting to the castle in the distance. With so many a tale surrounding that very structure, it suddenly became very hard to picture having to wait a whole month before being able to set foot in it. After all, it was right there...
Rule number 14, don't tell people you're my brother.
Rule number 15, refer to rules 5, 6 and 7.
Rule numb—"
"There it is!" As Hogwarts Castle came into view through the copse of trees lining the lake, Owen couldn't help but cut off his brother's droning voice with the excited exclamation.
It was beautiful. There was no shortage of castles and keeps all across the United Kingdoms in various states of repair, including a ruin not far from the Lochridge manor where they resided in Northern Ireland, but Owen had never seen anything remotely near to the grandness of what lay in wait across the lake. No description had done it justice, not even as much as Anrai had tried to play it up in grandiosity for the past two years in attempts to stir jealousy. Owen stood, stunned.
"Are you even listening to me?!"
Surprisingly strong hands connected with Owen's shoulder and jarred him abruptly from his mesmerized state. The unexpected shove sent him careening to the side. Gravel skittered as he tried to catch his balance, but he still hit the ground, knees and hands freshly smudging.
"Oy! What was that fer?" Owen whined and he hastened to stand. Feverishly trying to dust the dirt from his shorts, he bemoaned "...these were new..." just as the adult accompanying them spoke up.
"That is quite enough you two. This is no manner for Lochridges to behave." Hild's typically terse speech cut through the air like knives, a threat of punishment implicit should the rough-housing continue. "You are not plebian chattle without sense or dignity. What would your parents think?—" The commentary continued for some time as they continued on their way. And just like Anrai's incessant talking had faded to little more than background noise, so too did that of their governess.
"Rule number 16," came an indignant hiss beneath the string of Hild's verbal berating. "Stay out of my way." With that, Anrai acted as though nothing had happened, head held high as he marched forward with his oiled leather satchel slung smugly over a shoulder.
Owen scowled at him from behind, but didn't dare say anything lest he attract Hild's ire. It wasn't fair. Anrai always got the last word. It wasn't like it had been his fault. His older brother had been going on and on about this and that for so long during the journey over to the Scottish Highlands that Owen had long stopped paying attention. Why'd he have to make such a big deal about all these rules? Why did there have to be rules in the first place? What had happened to the promise he'd made to ma and da that Anrai would be looking out for his younger brother?
A stone streaked off the path courtesy of a well-placed kick from the toe of Owen's shoe—"Don't kick stones! You'll scuff your loafers!"—and drawing his attention back towards the impressive horizon where Hogwarts loomed in waiting. Like a tonic, the very sight seemed to chase away any residual negative feeling from the immediate moment. Anrai was an eejit, and Owen wasn't about to let him spoil the fun.
By the time they arrived at the campgrounds proper, Anrai was nowhere to be seen—no doubt he'd hurried on ahead to meet up with his friends—and Owen was in high spirits. This was so much better than spending the last month of summer at home, bored, counting down the days until he finally got to join his brother at Hogwarts.
Or, he was pretty sure it was better. There were so many students running around and various staff directing people to cabins or sports sign-ups that it was hard to know where to begin. Moreover, Owen found his attention persistently redirecting to the castle in the distance. With so many a tale surrounding that very structure, it suddenly became very hard to picture having to wait a whole month before being able to set foot in it. After all, it was right there...
action: arriving at camp, marveling at the sight of Hogwarts Castle
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English [#a9882d] | Gaeilge [#a77406]
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English [#a9882d] | Gaeilge [#a77406]