Collateral Damage
They arrived at the safehouse just before dawn, clothes singed, exhaustion pressing down on them like a curse. James barely had time to shake the adrenaline from his limbs before he heard the unmistakable voice of Alastor Moody.
"Potter. Black." Moody’s voice was sharp, his magical eye already swiveling to inspect them. "Tell me why the hell I shouldn't hex you both into next week for that disaster of a mission."
James exchanged a glance with Regulus, who, to James’s irritation, looked completely unbothered—cool and composed as ever.
"Relax, Moody," James said, forcing a grin as he flopped into a chair. "We made it back, didn’t we?"
"You made it back alive," Moody corrected. "Which, from what I hear, was a goddamn miracle considering your complete lack of coordination out there." His glare turned to Regulus. "And you—what part of stealth mission did you not understand?"
Regulus arched an eyebrow. "The part where I was forced to work with him."
James let out a scoff. "Oh, I'm the problem? I wasn’t the one dragging us into dark alleys and—"
"Saving your life?" Regulus interrupted, voice smooth and cutting. "You’re welcome, by the way."
James opened his mouth to fire back, but Sirius chose that moment to step in, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His expression was unreadable, which made James more nervous than if he’d been outright yelling.
"Do you two have any idea how close you were to getting caught?" Sirius’s voice was quieter than Moody’s, but somehow sharper. "If you’d been captured—" He cut himself off, exhaling through his nose like he was trying not to lose it.
James felt a twinge of guilt but shoved it aside with a shrug. "Well, we weren’t captured, so—"
Sirius slammed his hand against the table, cutting him off. "That’s not the point, James." His voice was tense, but his eyes flicked toward Regulus, something unspoken hanging between them. "We can’t afford reckless mistakes. Not in this war."
James frowned, glancing between them. Regulus’s face was unreadable, but his jaw was tight, hands clasped behind his back like he was holding himself in place.
Dumbledore, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. "Recklessness and hesitation both have their costs," he said mildly, looking at each of them in turn. "You are both skilled, but you will not survive if you do not learn to trust each other."
James scoffed. "Trust him? That’s rich."
Regulus’s lip curled. "The feeling is mutual."
Dumbledore’s gaze didn’t waver. "You will work together again."
James groaned. "You can’t be serious."
Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose. "I swear to Merlin, if you make that joke—"
James threw his hands up. "Fine. Fine! But if he hexes me in my sleep, I want it on record that I saw it coming."
Regulus, completely unimpressed, turned toward the door. "If I hex you in your sleep, Potter, you’ll never see it coming."
James blinked. "…Not comforting, mate."
Sirius sighed heavily. "This is going to be a disaster."
Moody grunted, his magical eye still swiveling over each of them as if measuring their worth. "You two better get your act together," he barked, but his tone had softened just slightly. "The Dark Lord’s forces won’t wait for your petty squabbles to sort themselves out."
"Isn’t that what we’re here for?" Regulus’s voice was dry, his posture still annoyingly composed. "To take care of his forces?"
"You’re not wrong," Moody said, eyes narrowing. "But you'd better start learning how to handle your differences before it gets someone killed." His gaze lingered on James and Regulus for a moment before shifting to Sirius. "And don’t let your emotions cloud your judgment."
Sirius’s jaw clenched but he said nothing. He was silent for a long moment before turning to James, his expression shifting. The sternness was gone, replaced by something else—a flicker of worry, maybe.
"You both know what’s at stake," Sirius muttered, the weight of his words pressing down on the room. "This isn’t just about us anymore." He glanced at Regulus again, a brief look of understanding flashing between them. "We don’t have the luxury of making mistakes, not now."
James swallowed, the tension in his chest building. He wanted to say something, but the words felt stuck in his throat. He hated that Sirius was right. He hated that this felt like more than just a mission gone wrong—it felt like a personal failure, something he hadn’t quite been able to shake off, even with the adrenaline wearing off.
"Fine," James muttered, his voice rougher than he intended. "I get it. We’ll work together. No more mistakes." He glanced at Regulus, who didn’t flinch under his gaze. "But don’t expect me to trust you right away."
Regulus’s expression remained impassive. "I don’t need your trust, Potter," he said coldly. "I need you to get the job done. Whether or not you like me is irrelevant."
James felt his anger flare, but Sirius’s hand shot out, resting lightly on his shoulder. "Enough, both of you." His voice was strained but firm. "We don’t have time for this. We need to prepare. We’ll discuss the next steps in a moment. But right now—" He glanced over at Dumbledore, whose gentle, knowing gaze was fixed on the two of them. "Right now, I need you to focus on staying alive."
Moody’s eye swiveled again, locking onto Regulus, then James. "Tomorrow, you start training together," he growled. "No exceptions. Get used to each other, or this war’s going to swallow you whole."
"Training?" James said, incredulous. "You think that’s the solution to this mess?"
Dumbledore stepped forward, his voice calm but unyielding. "If you can learn to trust each other, it will make you stronger, James. It will make you both stronger. That is the key."
James’s eyes flicked from Dumbledore to Regulus. For a moment, he thought he saw something like reluctance flash across Regulus’s face—but it was gone so quickly, he wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter, though.
James was ready to argue, but the cold, determined look in Regulus’s eyes made him pause. For all their differences, they’d both survived the mission. They’d both made it back. Maybe that meant something. Or maybe it didn’t.
Sirius was watching him closely, waiting for some sort of reaction, but James simply nodded.
"Fine. But if he gets any funny ideas," James said, glaring at Regulus, "I’m blaming you."
Regulus merely tilted his head, an enigmatic half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You’re welcome to try."
Moody grunted again, turning toward the door. "Enough talking. Get some rest. We have work to do tomorrow."
As he exited, Dumbledore’s soft voice lingered in the room. "Remember, you are not alone in this, James. And Regulus, you have your part to play as well."
James didn’t know what to say to that, but he couldn’t help but feel the weight of the words. As they all began to leave the safehouse’s cramped meeting room, James caught Regulus's eye one last time.
"Let’s just get through tomorrow," James muttered, almost to himself.
Regulus’s gaze softened for a brief second before he turned and walked away without a word.