Chapter 5
James Potter had somehow—Regulus still wasn’t sure how—managed to land himself a spot in the production. Technically, James was one of the two cameramen, meaning he didn’t have an acting role at all. Sure, he had a brief moment where he’d appear on stage for a few seconds as part of the behind-the-scenes montage, but that didn’t stop him from acting like he was the star of the show. Regulus had never seen anyone so pleased with themselves for doing so little.
James swaggered into the auditorium the next day, a script in one hand and a bottle of orange juice in the other, grinning like he’d just aced a pop quiz. Regulus, already seated with his own script and notes, looked up just in time to see James plop down beside him, almost spilling the juice he was holding.
“Morning, Reg,” James said, taking a sip of his juice.
Regulus shot him a withering look.
James chuckled, clearly undeterred. “Come on, you love having me here,” he teased, nudging Regulus’s shoulder with his own. “Admit it, you’re thrilled I’m part of this.”
“Thrilled isn’t the word I’d use,” Regulus muttered, turning his attention back to the script he’d been revising.
James leaned in, trying to peek at Regulus’s notes with exaggerated curiosity. “What’s this scene? Oh, is this the part where you have to join the scene?”
Regulus huffed. “No, I don’t have any lines in this. I’m just the writer.”
“Writing, acting,” James waved his hand dismissively. “It’s all the same, really. And besides, the stage loves me.”
“There’s no audience here; it’s a rehearsal,” Regulus said dryly, though he couldn’t quite suppress the slight twitch of his lips. “And somehow, I doubt your ‘skills’ are as impressive as you think.”
“You wound me, Reg,” James said, clutching his chest dramatically. “I thought we had something special.”
“If by ‘special’ you mean profoundly irritating, then yes, we do.”
James grinned, leaning back in his chair, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “That’s the spirit. Keep that fire for the stage, Reg.”
Rehearsal began, and though James was supposed to be taking notes on how to best capture the scenes on camera, he spent most of his time goofing off, occasionally stepping in front of the lens as if he were an actor.
Regulus tried to focus on his script, but James’s antics were hard to ignore. He was over-the-top, hamming it up with exaggerated gestures and ridiculous accents. It was all Regulus could do to keep a straight face.
During a break, James sidled up to Regulus again, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “So, how’d I do? Be honest, Reg. Was I brilliant or just amazing?”
Regulus sighed, looking up from his notes. “You were… certainly something.”
“Something, eh?” James waggled his eyebrows. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Take it however you like,” Regulus said, trying to hide his amusement. “But maybe tone it down a bit. You’re supposed to be behind the camera, not stealing the show.”
“Can’t help it, Reggie,” James said, leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve got too much charisma to stay in the background.”
Regulus couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.”
“It’s my best quality,” James winked.
As the weeks went on, rehearsals became a regular fixture in their after-school schedules. They fell into an odd rhythm, a sort of push-and-pull that neither of them fully understood but didn’t entirely mind. Each afternoon began with James swaggering into the auditorium, often balancing some sort of snack in one hand and something that would eventually distract Regulus in the other. Regulus, always the first to arrive, would be settled in with his script and notes, trying to steal a few moments of quiet before the whirlwind that was James Potter entered the room.
James’s plan wasn’t working in the slightest. The feeling was still there, and it had been days already! James tried everything, but each time Regulus even looked at him, the feeling came back, and he really tried to smother it. He tried to smother it so much that another feeling came with it—a guilty feeling whenever he talked to Sirius, which was kind of unavoidable since they were literally attached at the hip.
But for now, what he was going to do was keep hanging around Regulus whether the latter liked it or not.
“Morning, sunshine!” James greeted him every day, each time with a slightly different inflection, like he was testing out which version might get the best rise out of Regulus.
Regulus would glance up, sometimes with a glare, sometimes with a reluctant smirk. “Potter,” he’d reply, often without looking up, as if he could ignore the inevitable interruption that was about to descend upon him.
Their days followed a predictable pattern. After the initial round of banter, they’d settle into rehearsal. James, despite his antics, was surprisingly good at his job when he put his mind to it. He had an eye for detail, an ability to find the perfect angle, the best lighting to highlight the emotion Regulus was trying to capture. And even though he frequently broke character to tease or poke fun at Regulus, there was no denying that James’s energy brought something unexpected to the table—something Regulus found himself begrudgingly appreciating.
Between scenes, they’d linger by the stage, sharing jokes that were often more biting than friendly but always with an underlying warmth that neither acknowledged. James had a way of inserting himself into Regulus’s space, always too close, always too familiar, but Regulus found that it was easier to write when James was around, even if he’d never admit it out loud.
Afternoons were spent back in the rehearsal room, where the teasing would pick up right where it left off. James had a habit of leaning in too close when they reviewed scenes, his breath warm on Regulus’s neck as he read over his shoulder. Regulus tried not to let it get to him, but James was persistent, always looking for a crack in his composure.
At one point, as they were setting up a shot, James casually draped an arm over Regulus’s shoulders, pulling him in close under the guise of discussing the scene. “So, Reg, what’s the motivation behind this bit? I need to make sure I capture the emotion just right,” he said, his voice low and teasing.
Regulus could feel the heat creeping up his neck. “Oi, careful there,” he said, trying to sound annoyed but failing to hide the slight flush in his cheeks.
“Just getting into character,” James said with a grin. “You know, adding a bit of chemistry to the scene.”
“Chemistry,” Regulus repeated flatly. “Is that what you’re calling it?” James winked.
Regulus rolled his eyes, gently shrugging off James’s arm. “Just try not to overdo it, yeah? This isn’t a romance.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” James quipped, and Regulus had to resist the urge to smack him upside the head.
Later, as they were reviewing some of the lines, James kept finding excuses to lean in closer to Regulus, his breath warm against the side of Regulus’s neck as he read over the script. It was distracting, to say the least, and Regulus found himself stumbling over his words more than once, much to James’s amusement.
“Need some help there, Reg?” James asked, his voice low and teasing. “You seem a bit flustered.”
“I’m fine,” Regulus snapped, trying to focus on the words in front of him. But the truth was, James was getting under his skin, and he wasn’t entirely sure if it was in a bad way.
As the rehearsal came to an end, James slung an arm around Regulus’s shoulders again, his smile as bright as ever. “Admit it, Reg. We make a great team.”
Regulus huffed, but there was no real malice in it. “You’re an insufferable git, you know that?”
James laughed, squeezing Regulus’s shoulder before finally letting go. “Yeah, but you secretly love it.”
Regulus didn’t bother responding, knowing that anything he said would only fuel James’s ego. But as they walked out of the auditorium together, side by side, he couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—James wasn’t entirely wrong.
The next day unfolded in a similar fashion, as did the one after that. James flopped down next to Regulus, nudging his chair over until it was practically on top of Regulus’s. Regulus shot him a look that could curdle milk, but James, as always, was completely unfazed.
“What’s that, then?” James asked, craning his neck to get a look at Regulus’s notes. He leaned in so close that Regulus had to pull his paper away just to keep it out of his face.
“None of your business, Potter,” Regulus replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He tried to focus on his writing, but James was like a persistent fly—impossible to ignore.
“Oh, come off it, Reg,” James wheedled, his grin widening. “You’re always so secretive. What’s it about? Some tragic romance? An epic quest? Or maybe a tortured hero who just needs
the right person to save him?”
Regulus snorted, his pen scratching across the paper with renewed vigor. “More like a persistent idiot who won’t take a hint.”
James laughed, the sound echoing through the nearly empty auditorium. “Sounds riveting. Can’t wait to see how it turns out.”
Despite himself, Regulus felt the corners of his mouth twitching upward. James was impossible—relentlessly cheerful, annoyingly persistent, and yet… somehow endearing. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud, of course.
“Focus, Potter,” Regulus said, doing his best to sound stern. “We’ve got work to do.”
“Aye aye, Captain,” James replied with a mock salute, finally backing off—but not without one last wink that left Regulus feeling strangely flustered.
James settled into his role behind the camera with surprising ease, his usual bravado tempered by a genuine interest in capturing the best angles and lighting for each scene. Regulus had to admit—grudgingly—that James had a natural talent for it. He had a good eye, an instinct for what would look best on screen, and he was surprisingly focused when he wasn’t busy trying to annoy Regulus.
But of course, James couldn’t resist pushing Regulus’s buttons. Every now and then, he’d “accidentally” bump into him or make some offhand comment that was clearly designed to get a rise out of him. Regulus did his best to ignore it, but James was persistent—and annoyingly good at making him blush.
As the weeks passed, they fell into a strange sort of routine. James would show up to rehearsal with that infuriating grin on his face, and Regulus would try—unsuccessfully—to ignore him. They’d bicker and banter, James always pushing just a little too far, and Regulus always pretending to be more annoyed than he actually was. And in between the teasing and the banter, they’d somehow manage to get some work done.
It was… comfortable, in a way that Regulus hadn’t expected. Despite all the teasing, James had a way of making the long hours of rehearsal feel less tedious, of making Regulus laugh when he least expected it. And though Regulus would never admit it, he found himself looking forward to those afternoons more and more as time went on.
One day, as they were wrapping up rehearsal, James slung an arm around Regulus’s shoulders, pulling him in close in that annoyingly familiar way of his. “You know, Reg,” he said, his voice low and conspiratorial, “we make a pretty good team.”
Regulus rolled his eyes, but there was no real heat behind it. “You’re insufferable.”
James grinned, his arm still draped around Regulus’s shoulders. “But you love me anyway.”
Regulus huffed, but there was no real denial in it. Because as much as he hated to admit it, James was right.
—
James was idly fiddling with a piece of tape when Marlene’s voice rang out from across the room.
“James! Where’s your boyfriend?”
He looked up, scanning the room in confusion. “Who?”
Marlene rolled her eyes with the patience of a saint. “Regulus, you dolt!”
James froze, the word ‘boyfriend’ hitting him like a rogue ball. “Boyfriend?” he repeated, his brain short-circuiting. “Regulus? You mean, Sirius’s brother? Since when did he—wait, what?”
Marlene’s eyes narrowed as she observed his bewilderment. Peter leaned in close to Marlene and whispered something urgent in her ear. Marlene’s eyes widened as realization hit her. She turned back to James, her expression a mix of horror and pity.
“Oh my god,” she breathed, grabbing James by the arm with a grip of iron. Without a word, she yanked him towards one of the backstage closets, dragging Peter along for good measure.
“Hey, bloody hell!, Marlene?!” James protested, stumbling along.
“No time for explanations,” Marlene said, her voice echoing in the narrow hallway. “You need an intervention!”
The closet door slammed shut behind them, plunging them into a dimly lit space filled with the musty smell of old costumes and assorted theatrical paraphernalia. James felt like he was suffocating, but it wasn’t just the smell; it was the suffocating realization of his emotions.
Marlene closed the door with a dramatic flair and fixed James with a steely gaze. “James, you absolute idiot,” she began, her tone dripping with frustration. “You seriously haven’t figured this out yet?”
“Figured what out?” James asked, genuinely baffled. “I’m not even sure what’s happening right now!”
Peter shuffled awkwardly, eyeing the dust bunnies on the floor. “Maybe we should let him—”
“No!” Marlene cut him off, her eyes still locked on James. “He needs to hear this.”
James waited with mounting anxiety, his heart racing. “Okay, what am I supposed to figure out?”
Marlene took a deep breath, as if about to deliver the grand revelation. “James,” she said slowly, as if speaking to someone who’d missed the last ten plot twists of a soap opera, “you like Regulus.”
James blinked. “Uh, yeah, he’s—”
“No, I mean you really like him,” she clarified, her tone leaving no room for doubt.
The words floated in the air like a particularly bad smell, and James just stared, feeling like he’d been hit in the face with a pie of confusion. “I don’t—” he began, but his protest sounded weak even to him.
“What? No, I don’t—I mean, I like him, but not like that. I’m not—” The words got stuck in his throat. He wasn’t what? He wasn’t into boys?
Marlene’s expression softened into one of sympathetic exasperation. “James, it’s okay,” she said gently. “But you need to stop pretending you don’t have feelings. It’s written all over your face like a bad tattoo.”
Peter, who had been observing quietly, finally spoke up. “James, no one’s saying you need to label anything right now. But you need to be honest with yourself. You like him, and it doesn’t make you any less of a person.”
James felt like he was going throw up. “But it does, doesn’t it? My whole world feels like it’s been turned upside down. I thought I had everything figured out—James Potter, always cool, always the joke-teller, never the ‘confused about feelings’ guy.”
Marlene stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. “James, it’s okay to be scared,” she said softly. “It’s a lot to take in. But you need to think about how you feel when you’re around him. And don’t freak out about what it might mean.”
James swallowed hard, trying to sift through the mess in his head. How did he feel around Regulus? Nervous, excited, maybe a little bit like he was juggling flaming torches, but also... alive. He’d always thought it was just competitive banter, but was it something more? And if it was, what did that mean for everything else?
“Why didn’t I see it?” James whispered, more to himself than to anyone else.
Marlene’s expression softened even more, and she squeezed his shoulder. “Sometimes it’s hard to see what’s right in front of you when you’re too busy being a drama queen about everything else,” she said with a half-smile. “But it’s okay. You don’t have to have all the answers right now.”
Peter nodded, trying to lighten the mood. “Yeah, mate. Take your time. We’re here for you. And if you need a break, I hear the snack table’s got some excellent chocolate biscuits.”
James looked between them, his heart racing. He felt like he was standing at the edge of a cliff, terrified of what might happen if he took that first step forward. But at the same time, a small part of him was curious, wanting to know what was on the other side.
“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just... need some time to think.”
Marlene smiled at him, her expression warm and supportive. “Take all the time you need, James. We’ll be here when you’re ready. And hey, if you need more closet therapy, just give me a shout, AND if their are any deveploemtns Peter and I are first to know alright? ”
With that, she opened the door, letting in a rush of cool air that made James realize how stifling the small closet had been. He stepped out, feeling like he was walking through a haze, with Marlene and Peter staying close but giving him enough space to sort through his thoughts.
As they made their way back to the rehearsal space, James’s mind was still whirling. The questions and uncertainties were enough to make his head spin, but for the first time, he was allowing himself to ask those questions. And while that was unsettling, it was also a step toward understanding himself better. Maybe he wasn’t entirely sure what any of it meant yet, but he was ready to find out.
When he glanced over at Regulus, who was now laughing at something someone said, James felt a strange mix of fear and anticipation. Maybe the path ahead was unclear
but he was starting to see that it was a path worth exploring.