Quality of Mercy
Marlene McKinnon nearly kills Bellatrix Lestrange one day and Sirius Black nearly lets her. The bright April sun lights Marlene's dark hair wine-red as she holds her wand out, lips drawn back in a feral, gleeful snarl, shoulders thrown back and eyes bright—she is triumph drawing breath in ragged, weary gasps.
Sirius knows it is Bella behind the mask—there are her hands (clawlike, identical to his mother's) curled against the paving stones of Diagon Alley, her posture (still arrogant, even as she lay defeated on the ground), her wand, her hair falling out from the hood, and the faint scent of dead flowers and iron. He knew her the minute she joined the fray, this deadly battle in the spring-bright sunshine.
But he wouldn't have stayed the wand if Bella hadn't laughed, there on the ground, anything but defeated. He pulls the older Phoenix away, catching her wand hand even as Marlene's mouth forms around 'Avada.'
The fuck, Black? Marlene roars, snatching her hand away. Sirius has already Summoned Bella's wand from the paving stones, and he snaps it irreparably in two and throws the pieces down at her. His eyes meet hers through the mask, just for a moment. There is no gratitude—he didn't expect it, but this is the end. The end of what little familial bond might have ever been between them; their shared blood runs thin. The end. The end. And the beginning.
He won't stop Marlene next time. He won't turn his own wand away. And he'll mean the words.
Sirius' grip is merciless on Marlene's arm, and she struggles away, shoving her spur-like elbow into his ribs. She doesn't ask, but she walks away on her own; she understands enough not to turn back and finish her work.
When Gideon Prewett finds Marlene and her family dead, Sirius knows—knows—that if he were brave enough to enter the McKinnon house, it would smell faintly of funeral flowers and iron. Marlene probably cursed his name in the end, as she met her death at the hands of her one-time prey. He regrets then (the end).
He can hear her laughter in Azkaban—even when she's silent, the Dementors play it for him. He wonders how many lives he let her ruin the day he let her live. He regrets then (the end).
It occurs to him—perhaps out of thin air he's falling into—as her mad laughter (and the echoes of his own) rings around him, that there is no such thing as wasted mercy (and a beginning).
It rained horribly here on the fourth of July, so I sat inside and watched the original Twilight Zone series marathon. They're all quite brilliant--Rod Serling was nothing short of a genius--and even the titles of the episodes were plotbunny madhouses. The title of this piece is yanked entirely from the episode 'A Quality of Mercy' (although the plot couldn't have less in common with it.) I wrote this at work today, in between people-watching (I work at an international airport, so it's pretty amazing people watching) and windexing display cases.
Also, before anyone disagrees with my having Marlene, a member of the Order, intending to use the AK curse--in my characterization of her, I feel it's justified. She's a little unhinged, and Death Eaters are going down any way she can take them. I'm pretty sure many of the Phoenixes would be averse to the Killing curse, but certainly not all, and certainly not my Marlene.
Oh, and I totally forgot! A Good Way to Fall won an 'Admins' Choice' Hourglass award for best drabbles! How sweet is that?