Let’s See
Regulus was never one to back down from a challenge—especially when he thought it was something that would expose weakness. And if there was one thing Regulus was sure of, it was that James Potter wasn’t the type to stay serious for long. The way James had been looking at him lately, like he wasn’t just a mission or an enemy, made Regulus want to laugh. Or maybe punch him. Either one would suffice.
It had started with the small things—James holding the door for him, passing him a cup of tea without asking, or quietly staying close in moments when Regulus had a tendency to disappear into himself. And Regulus hated it. It made him feel… soft. Vulnerable, even. And he couldn't stand it.
So, he decided to test James, push him to see just how far he was willing to go. Maybe if he could make James snap, he’d see the truth: that this wasn’t real. This wasn’t about anything other than the mission. It couldn’t be.
The next day, when they were all gathered at the Order headquarters, Regulus decided to make the first move.
“Potter,” Regulus said, his voice deliberately dripping with condescension as he leaned against the wall, watching James from across the room. “Are you always this earnest? Or is it just a special little phase you're going through? I suppose the hero act is quite charming, though. For some people.”
James raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered, but Regulus saw the flicker of irritation in his eyes. “I’m not ‘acting,’ Regulus. And for the record, I’m not a bloody hero.”
Regulus smirked, enjoying the way James's jaw tightened at his words. “Oh, really? I’ve heard the tales, Potter. Always rushing in to save the day. Who needs help, after all, when you have all the answers?”
James narrowed his eyes, not willing to rise to the bait completely. But Regulus could see the way his posture stiffened, the subtle tension in his body. It was a good start.
“I don’t have all the answers, Regulus,” James replied coolly. “But I’m trying. And that’s more than you’ve done in the last six months.”
The jab hit home, but Regulus wasn't done. He couldn’t let James have the last word so easily. “Trying, huh?” Regulus stepped a little closer, his voice lowering. “For a man who tries so hard, you sure seem to fail quite a bit. Tell me, Potter, do you ever get tired of failing?”
James didn’t flinch, but Regulus could feel the heat rising in the space between them. “If I fail, I fail. But I get up. And I keep going.” His voice dropped just a little, quieter now, as if they were the only ones in the room. “Something I think you’ve forgotten how to do.”
Regulus’s smirk faltered, just for a second, before he plastered it back on. Damn James for being so calm, for never letting him get under his skin for long. He needed to push harder.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Regulus continued, leaning in just enough to make their shoulders brush, his voice low and mocking. “I’m sure you think you’re so much better than me now. I’m sure you think you're some kind of savior, standing tall above the rest of us with your moral superiority.”
James’s eyes flickered, and Regulus could see it. He was getting to him. But James didn’t back down. Instead, he turned his full attention on Regulus, and his voice was steady—almost soft. “You’re wrong. I don’t think I’m better than you. But I do think I could help you. If you'd let me.”
For a split second, there was a flicker of something—maybe surprise, maybe something more—in Regulus’s eyes. But it was gone before he could really process it, replaced once more by that cool, detached exterior.
“Help me?” Regulus scoffed, shaking his head. “What, Potter? You think I’m some poor, lost soul just waiting for your golden touch? How benevolent of you.”
The teasing tone was clear, but there was something else behind it—something that made James pause.
“You don’t get it, do you?” James said, his voice quiet but firm. “This isn’t a game for me. It’s not some dare. You’re not a joke. And I’m not giving up on you.”
Regulus stiffened, his gaze flicking away, though James could see the slight color in his cheeks, the way his shoulders tensed under the force of those words. James wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment or something else, but Regulus was definitely rattled.
Regulus cleared his throat, trying to regain control of the conversation. “Please, don’t flatter yourself, Potter. I didn’t ask for your help. And I don’t need your pity either.”
But his voice wasn’t as steady as it had been before. He was faltering, just slightly, and James caught it, a flicker of something deeper that Regulus wasn’t ready to face yet.
“Regulus, I don’t pity you,” James replied, stepping closer, his voice low. “I care about you. And that’s not something I’ll back down from.”
Regulus opened his mouth to retort, but James’s hand reached out, gently touching the side of his waist, just for a second. A soft, reassuring touch that made Regulus freeze for a heartbeat, his entire body going still.
The touch wasn’t rough. It wasn’t meant to be a challenge or a push. It was simple. Honest. And it was enough to make Regulus’s breath hitch slightly, his face going a little bit redder than it had been before.
“Don’t,” Regulus muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, but there was a tremor in it now. “If this is some new dare of yours—”
“It’s not a dare, Regulus,” James said softly, his fingers still resting lightly on his waist. “I’m not backing down. This is real.”
Regulus’s lips parted, but before he could speak, they were interrupted by someone calling from across the room. They both jumped, and the spell was broken.
“Hey, you two! Enough of the staring contest—get back to work!” came the voice of Mad-Eye Moody, cutting through the silence.
Regulus pulled away quickly, glaring at James, his eyes now filled with a mixture of frustration and something unreadable. “Don’t touch me again, Potter.”
James gave him a small, knowing smile, but he didn’t back down. “I will. Whether you like it or not.”
And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving Regulus standing there, his heart pounding and his thoughts scattered, unable to shake the feeling that James was serious this time.
Regulus didn’t want to admit it, but he was starting to wonder if he might just be in over his head.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of mission reports and briefings. Every time James found himself glancing in Regulus’s direction, the other man was either avoiding his gaze or purposefully locking eyes with him, as though daring him to challenge the unspoken tension between them.
But James wasn’t backing down. He couldn’t. Not now.
When the briefing ended, James found himself lingering at the edge of the room, pretending to scan the latest intel, but his eyes were fixed on Regulus. The other man was standing across the room, talking quietly with some of the others, but his posture was tense, his usual cold demeanor masking something that James couldn’t quite decipher.
Without thinking, James started walking toward him, his steps purposeful but slow. He was going to push this. He wasn’t going to let Regulus hide behind that wall anymore.
As James neared, Regulus seemed to sense his presence. His shoulders stiffened, and his eyes flickered briefly toward him before quickly looking away. But there was something in the way his breath hitched that made James’s heart race. Regulus was nervous. He could see it now—the crack in the armor. The uncertainty.
“Regulus,” James said, his voice calm, but with an undertone that only the two of them could hear. “We need to talk.”
Regulus didn’t respond immediately, but James saw his fingers twitch at his side, a subtle sign that he was on edge. He stepped closer, dropping his voice lower, so it was just between them.
“I meant what I said earlier,” James continued, his gaze unwavering. “I’m not playing any games. You can keep pushing me away, but I’m not leaving.”
Regulus inhaled sharply, as if trying to steady himself. “You think I need your pathetic pity, Potter?” he sneered, but the words were laced with something fragile, something he couldn’t quite mask.
James didn’t flinch. “No. I think you’re just scared,” he said softly, his tone almost a whisper now, knowing Regulus could hear him.
Regulus’s eyes flashed with annoyance, but for a split second, there was a flicker of something deeper—something darker. “And what exactly am I supposed to be scared of, Potter?” he spat, but James saw the way his hands tightened into fists at his sides.
James took a step closer, too close for Regulus’s liking, and he could feel the palpable tension in the air. It wasn’t just the mission hanging between them now. It was something more. Something raw and vulnerable.
“You’re scared of this,” James said simply. “Scared of someone who might actually care about you. Scared of feeling something real.”
Regulus recoiled slightly, stepping back just enough to regain his distance, but his eyes were wild. He opened his mouth to retort, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he clenched his jaw and shook his head. “You’re making a fool of yourself.”
James stood his ground, his gaze steady. “Maybe. But you’re the one who keeps pushing people away.”
The silence between them grew thick. James could see the internal battle on Regulus’s face—the part of him that wanted to push James away, and the part that was aching to admit that maybe, just maybe, he wanted something more.
Before Regulus could speak, James took another small step forward, almost closing the distance between them entirely. This time, he didn’t touch Regulus. He simply stood there, looking into his eyes with that same calm determination.
“I’m not going anywhere, Regulus,” James repeated, his voice low, steady, and resolute. “I’m in this for real. And I won’t let you shut me out.”
Regulus’s lips trembled slightly as he tried to hold onto his usual biting retort, but the words failed him. Instead, he looked away, visibly irritated, though James could see the flush creeping up his neck.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Regulus muttered, his voice sharp, though the edge was weaker now. “You’ll just get hurt in the end.”
“Maybe. But I’ll deal with it.” James took another step closer, his tone softening. “I won’t give up on you. Not like this.”
Regulus’s eyes flashed, and he took a deep breath, trying to regain control. His voice came out clipped, almost too controlled. “You really are insufferable, Potter.”
James chuckled softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You know you like it.”
Regulus rolled his eyes, but James saw the brief flicker of warmth in his expression—the slightest crack in his cold demeanor.
“You’re such a bloody idiot,” Regulus muttered, though there was less venom in the words than there had been before.
“And you’re stubborn,” James shot back, still standing close enough to almost feel the heat of Regulus’s body against his. “But that’s not going to scare me off.”
Regulus opened his mouth to argue, but before he could get another word out, James did something unexpected. He reached out and gently tucked a strand of Regulus’s hair behind his ear. The motion was subtle, but it sent a shockwave through both of them. Regulus froze, his breath catching, his eyes wide for a moment before he quickly looked away, his cheeks flushed.
James’s heart was hammering in his chest, but he refused to look away. He wasn’t going to retreat now. Not after everything they’d been through, not after how far he’d come to prove this wasn’t a game.
“Don’t think I’m giving up on you,” James said, his voice soft, almost gentle. “I’ll wait for you, Regulus. I’ll wait however long it takes. Because this—” He paused, looking deeply into Regulus’s eyes. “This is real. And I’m not leaving.”
Regulus didn’t respond immediately, but the air between them felt charged, like something was about to break. Something was shifting. Neither of them could deny it anymore.
————
Regulus stepped back slightly, arms crossing over his chest as his sharp gaze flicked to James. There was a hint of something vulnerable buried beneath his usual cold exterior, but he wasn’t ready to let it show. Instead, he leaned into the skepticism that always came so naturally to him.
“You do realize we know little to nothing about each other, right?” Regulus said, his voice a little tighter than usual. “It’s mental that you’re standing here telling me you’re going to stick around, when you don’t know a damn thing about my life. My real life. You know nothing of my choices, my history...hell, you don’t even know what gets under my skin.”
James swallowed, feeling a flicker of unease in the pit of his stomach, but he refused to back down. He had known Regulus wasn’t going to make this easy. He’d never expected it to be simple—but that wasn’t going to stop him.
“So let me in, then,” James replied, his voice steady but unyielding. “Let me learn. Let me understand. I won’t pretend I know everything about you, but I’m not going to stand here and say I’m just going to give up. If you want to keep me at arm's length, that's fine—but I’m not going anywhere, Regulus. Not until you at least let me try to get to know you.”
Regulus stiffened, his jaw tightening at the challenge in James’s words. He didn’t respond immediately, just staring at James with that same unreadable expression. James could see the wheels turning in his head, the inner conflict playing out in real-time.
“Why?” Regulus finally asked, his voice quieter, more uncertain than before. “Why the hell do you care so much? I’ve been nothing but a cold, distant prick to you, James. Why the hell would you want to know more? Why would you want to try?”
James took a deep breath, his gaze never wavering from Regulus’s. He took a step closer, closing the distance between them without hesitation. There was no room for doubt now. He had already made his choice, and he wasn’t about to backpedal.
“I don’t know why,” James admitted softly. “I just know that every time I think I should walk away, something pulls me back. And yeah, maybe it’s insane, maybe it doesn’t make sense...but you’re more than the cold shell you put out there, Regulus. I know there’s more to you than that. And I want to see it. I want to understand you, even if you don’t want me to. So if you’re asking me why I care, it’s because I think you’re worth it. More than this bloody game.”
Regulus took a sharp breath, clearly caught off guard by the honesty in James’s words. He was silent for a long moment, his eyes flicking down to the floor as if avoiding the raw sincerity in James’s expression.
“This... this is stupid,” Regulus muttered, but even as the words left his mouth, James could hear the slight tremor in them—like a crack in his wall, barely noticeable but impossible to ignore.
James didn’t relent. He stepped even closer, this time so close that the space between them felt charged with everything they weren’t saying. “Maybe it is,” James said, his voice low and serious, “but I’m not backing down. I’m not going anywhere. And I’m going to keep pushing, keep trying. Let me in, Regulus. Let me in, and let’s learn about each other. It doesn’t have to be perfect. But I’m not giving up. I care. And I want to see what’s really inside of you. The parts that no one else sees.”
Regulus looked up at him then, and for a brief moment, their eyes locked. For the first time, James saw a flicker of something—maybe fear, maybe longing—but there was definitely something beneath the surface. Regulus’s breath hitched, and James felt that familiar tension building between them, thick and palpable.
Regulus swallowed hard, as if grappling with what James had said. He glanced away for a moment, collecting himself before responding with a sharp, biting tone. “You’re impossible, Potter. Absolutely insufferable.”
James smiled, feeling a flicker of hope. “Maybe. But you’re starting to like it.”
Regulus scowled, though the flush creeping up his neck betrayed him. “I’m not some bloody charity case for you to figure out, you know.”
James grinned, the teasing in his eyes softening the playful edge in his voice. “I never said you were. I’m just saying I’m sticking around. For however long it takes. So, let’s see where it goes, yeah?”
Regulus opened his mouth to retort, but then, as if to stop himself, he closed it again. There was a small silence that stretched between them, thick with everything they hadn’t said, everything they still needed to figure out.
Finally, Regulus looked at him, his expression almost softer than usual. “This doesn’t mean I’m suddenly going to trust you, Potter. Don’t get your hopes up.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” James replied with a grin. “But trust me on this: I’m not going anywhere. Not until we figure this out.”
Regulus rolled his eyes, clearly attempting to maintain his distance, but there was something in the way he stood, something in the slight shift of his posture that gave away the smallest crack in his armor.
“Whatever,” he muttered, but the words felt almost like a concession, and James didn’t miss the slight flush in his cheeks.
James leaned in a little, lowering his voice to where only Regulus could hear. “Let’s see what happens. Let’s take it one step at a time, and I promise you, I’ll prove I’m not playing some game.”
Regulus didn’t answer, but his gaze lingered on James for a moment longer, before he looked away, feigning disinterest. “Fine,” he muttered, voice laced with irritation, but James caught the faintest glint in his eyes—a glimmer of something more.
And in that moment, despite everything, James knew that he was starting to break through. It was slow, it was tentative, but something was shifting. And that, in itself, was enough for now.
———-
The next few days felt like a slow dance. James was nothing if not persistent. He’d asked questions before, but now they were different—gentler, more meaningful. They weren’t the usual barbs or sarcastic comments that Regulus had become accustomed to. No, these questions were... strange. They were simple, but they made Regulus uneasy in a way he couldn’t quite put into words.
One morning, they were in the mess hall, grabbing a quick breakfast before a debriefing with Moody. James was sitting across from Regulus, casually pushing eggs around on his plate as if they were the most important thing in the room.
“You ever had a pet?” James asked suddenly, his voice low but direct, his eyes focused on Regulus with that same unwavering determination.
Regulus blinked, thrown off by the question. It was so ordinary, so unexpected. He cleared his throat, his usual mask slipping back into place. “No,” he answered shortly. “I didn’t exactly grow up in a household that believed in pets.”
James nodded as though this was something he had expected, but his curiosity didn’t stop there. “Why not?” he pressed. “I mean, who doesn’t want a dog or a cat? Could’ve been a good distraction.”
Regulus frowned, suddenly uncomfortable. He didn’t like where this was going. “Doesn’t matter. I wasn’t exactly allowed to have one.”
James let the subject drop for a moment, but his mind was still working. He didn’t push, not right then, but his gaze never wavered, as if the question was still hanging between them. Regulus was starting to feel the weight of James’s curiosity—how it lingered, soft but insistent.
The next day, they were in the training room, going through a basic spell duel. Regulus was fast and precise, as always, but James’s style was different. Less refined, perhaps, but there was something about his spontaneity that made Regulus pause. After a particularly close round where Regulus had narrowly avoided James’s spell, James lowered his wand, his eyes catching Regulus’s for the briefest second before he spoke.
"Do you ever get bored of all this?" James asked, genuinely curious. "I mean, the fighting, the missions, always being on edge? Don’t you ever want something else? Something quieter?"
Regulus hesitated, the question catching him off guard. He wanted to say something dismissive, something that would cut the conversation short, but instead, he found himself answering. "Maybe," he said quietly, the words surprising even him. "But I don’t know anything else. I don’t know quiet. It’s... unfamiliar."
James nodded, as though that answer was exactly what he expected. He didn’t respond right away, just offered Regulus a thoughtful look, as though taking mental notes. It was unsettling, how much James seemed to care about things Regulus never thought anyone would.
Then, a few days later, they were walking down the corridor of the safe house, talking about the weather of all things. Regulus had just rolled his eyes at James’s attempt to predict rain based on cloud formations when James, without skipping a beat, asked another question.
“Do you ever miss Hogwarts?” he asked. “Like... the old days. Before all of this.”
Regulus stiffened at the mention of his school years, memories of a time he would rather forget coming rushing back in an instant. "What do you think?" he bit out, trying to play it off, but James’s steady gaze stopped him in his tracks.
“I think you miss it more than you let on,” James replied, voice quieter this time, as if he understood the weight behind the question.
Regulus felt a strange pang in his chest at that—an emotion he didn’t recognize immediately. It was a mixture of guilt, regret, and something else that made his pulse quicken. But instead of replying, he just shot James a sharp look and changed the subject. He couldn’t allow himself to show that weakness. Not to James.
Over the following days, James continued this pattern. He asked about music, about what Regulus used to do when he had time to himself, about his favorite color. None of these questions were of any real importance in the grand scheme of things, but Regulus felt like each one was a small invasion. Not an attack, but a reminder of just how much James was trying to get under his skin.
One evening, after a long day of briefings and training, they found themselves sitting in the small library of the safe house. James had picked up a book, but his eyes were still on Regulus, watching him as if he were waiting for something. Regulus, unable to ignore the scrutiny, looked up from his own book, irritated.
“What?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to ignore the way James’s gaze lingered.
“Why do you always wear that look?” James asked, gesturing to Regulus’s usual expression—a cold mask that didn’t show anything. “That... indifference. What’s it really hiding?”
Regulus froze. It was too personal, too close to something he didn’t want to examine. His mouth went dry, and for a moment, he couldn’t answer. The quiet hum of the library stretched between them.
James leaned forward slightly, sensing that this was different. “You don’t have to answer, Regulus. But I want to know. You know more about me than I’ve let on. I want to know the real you, not the one you let everyone see.”
Regulus shook his head, as if trying to clear the sudden fog in his thoughts. “You really don’t want to know.”
“I do,” James said, voice earnest. “I do.”
There was a long silence. Regulus felt a strange warmth settle in his chest—an emotion that wasn’t welcome, wasn’t safe, but one that he couldn’t ignore. He wanted to deny it, wanted to push it all away, but there was something in James’s quiet persistence, his refusal to give up on him, that made him feel... different.
“You’re going to be disappointed,” Regulus muttered after a long pause, but his words weren’t as sharp as they usually were.
James only smiled, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t think I will be.”