strike for strike
By the time James and Regulus scrabbled on deck, Malfoy had Marlene by the throat, the long, pale fingers of his remaining hand squeezing into her tattooed skin, nearly lifting her off of the ground. The rain had cleared, but the thick cover of clouds had yet to dissipate, the rattle of thunder booming in the distance. The air was humid and choking around them.
Lily had beat them up. Her skirts were pinned high around her waist, her flaming hair tied back haphazardly. Her brow pinched down in a grimace, teeth bared and body tensed for battle. She held her sword out in front of her protectively, just the way she had shown Regulus; feet wide, knees slightly bent. Fury shone in her eyes, chips of jade that practically glowed in the gloom.
And she wasn’t alone, from what Regulus could see. His brother had climbed his way up to the crows nest, hauling his rifle up with him. Sirius crouched down and aimed the gun for a direct shot into the back of Malfoy’s head, shoving the barrel through the bars of the nest. He noticed Regulus and nodded.
If Malfoy had noticed Sirius, he didn’t seem all that bothered by his lethal presence. Malfoy peered around Lily to aim a sneer at Regulus.
“Princeling,” Malfoy jeered, “You didn’t think I’d let you off that easy, did you?”
Regulus went for Evan’s knife, sheathed in his belt. Except, his hands came up bare. He had returned it to Evan in exchange for his trust in boarding the ship. Pandora must have nabbed it back in the scuffle with Regulus’s body before she used it to cut her hand. Regulus curled his empty fist. He was truly unarmed.
Regulus folded his hands behind his back and took a step towards Malfoy, trying to disguise the fact that he was weaponless. Malfoy’s grip hardened around Marlene’s neck and Regulus stopped.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” Malfoy said contemptuously.
“And you’re supposed to be smarter than that,” Regulus smirked and pulled up his shirt to reveal his sternum, untouched by a wound or scar of any sort.
Malfoy couldn’t conceal his surprise.
“I shot you,” he sputtered, “I shot a bullet through your chest.”
Regulus shrugged and let his shirt fall.
“Perhaps you’re not as good a shot as you think.”
“You fell into the water.”
“So?” Regulus scoffed, as if his evasion of death just a few hours prior had been nothing short of a goddamn miracle.
Malfoy squared his shoulders and looked back to Lily.
“Who might you be, little lady?”
Lily snarled, “I’m the bitch that’s going to cut you to pieces for laying hands on my friends.”
She cast a sidelong glance at Malfoy’s stump of an arm, “Well, laying a hand, it seems. I can see someone did a number on you already.”
Regulus raised his hand. “That was me.”
“Was it really?” Lily asked admirably.
“Yup. Not too hard actually.”
“I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks Lily.”
Malfoy’s eyebrow twitched with irritation, but he managed to recover soon enough.
“Feisty,” he crooned, “I like that in a woman.”
“And I’d like to see your head on a pike,” Lily retorted, “But we can’t all get what we want, can we?”
“Such boldness wasted on a lassie.”
“Every breath in your lungs is wasted on you.”
“Don’t be coy. I have your friend by the neck, remember? Best to play nice.”
“Not my style. Let her go.”
“Or what? You’ll cut my other hand off?”
“Along with another appendage of yours.”
“Drop the sword, maiden,” Malofy advised.
“Make me,” Lily spun the blade in her hand.
Malfoy blanched and Regulus could have laughed in his face.
“What?” he said mockingly, “Afraid you’ll get trounced by a girl?”
Malfoy straightened his back.
“No.”
He dropped Marlene. She landed with a thud on the deck, gasping for air and clawing at the planks. Her jewelry clicked as she started to scramble away, but Malfoy was freakishly fast; hardly a second, and he had pulled a sword from the back loop of his pants, throwing it forward and sinking it into the wood, just short of Marlene’s finger. She screamed and recoiled, ramming into his legs. Malfoy balled a fist into the back of her coat, yanking the sword up and sticking the blade under her chin.
Lily tried to lunge, but stopped when Malfoy dug in the blade. A small river of red ran from the opened skin, falling down Marlene’s chest and soaking into her shirt. She whimpered.
Sirius cocked the slide on the rifle, a warning. Malofy looked up at the noise and winked. Sirius narrowed his eyes.
“The second I hear a shot, your girl’s throat is getting slit. Got it Black?” Malfoy scorned. He tossed his head, “How weak you’ve become. Your cousin would be so disappointed.”
“Narcissa’s dead to me as far as I’m concerned,” Sirius shouted out cooly, “And you might as well be. The only way you’re leaving this ship is in a body bag.”
“That’s doubtful.”
“Is it?”
“You’re a dishonor.”
“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”
“Cut the shit,” Lily interjected, “You want to fight someone, fight me. You can trade insults in the afterlife.”
Malfoy bored his eyes into Lily. She rolled her shoulder, baiting him.
Regulus met eyes with Marlene. Under the curtain of her shaggy hair, she flicked her eyes towards the barrel by the stairs below decks. Her barrel, the one she had perched on with Evan’s knife the first day they had met.
Slowly, Regulus moved behind James, backtracking towards the barrel. Malfloy, noticing, opened his mouth to say something. James beat him to it.
“So,” he pushed in front of Regulus, blocking him from Malfoy’s view. He folded his arms, “You’re the great Lucius Malfoy. You’re shorter than I thought you’d be.”
Malfoy’s mouth ticked upward.
“Yet you’re so unimportant, I don’t even know your name.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re on my ship. That’s all you need to know about who you’re fucking around with.”
“Then by all means, face me yourself.”
“Nah.”
Malfoy blinked.
“You’d let this girl fight in your place?” He jerked his head to Lily.
“She’d probably do a better job of it.”
Regulus reached the barrel. Soundlessly, he lifted the lid. Reaching his hand down, his finger grasped the handle of a cutlass.
“And what about her?” Malfoy nudged the blade he held to Marlene, “Your master gunner is supposed to be your best soldier. And I bested her in seconds.”
“Caught me on an off day,” Marlene groaned.
“Shut your mouth.”
“Fuck you, you slimy little- Ugh!”
Marlene winced as more blood was drawn.
Regulus came up to James from behind, who automatically moved his hands behind his back. Subtly, Regulus pressed the hilt of the cutlass into James’s hand. His fingers closed around Regulus’s, strong and scratched. Regulus released the blade to him, keeping a knife for himself closed in his other hand. The two of them flanked Lily.
“This isn’t a fair fight Malfoy,” Regulus said, “And you know it. Back out while you still can, unless you still care to lose your other hand.”
Regulus drew the knife. When he flipped it in his palm, he could have sworn he saw Marlene give him a delighted grin.
Malfoy only sniffed.
“So be it.”
Lily roared and charged at him, swinging her sword in a high arc before bringing it down. Malfoy barely had a moment to kick Marlene aside and bring up his own blade to block the shot. Steel glanced against steel as Malfoy met Lily strike for strike. James lunged to help her, slashing at Malfoy’s arms. Regulus snatched Marlene by the arm and pulled her away from the fray, his hands slippery with her blood as he hauled her to her feet.
“Reg,” she cried, “Merlin, I thought I was a goner for sure.”
She pressed a hand to her bleeding neck, swaying a bit on her feet.
“I’m good,” Marlene slurred, “I can help. Gimme your sword.”
“No, you’re not good. You need to go downstairs.”
“Im…fine. Really. C’mon Reg.”
“Marls,” Regulus hustled her to the stairs, “You need help. Come back out when you’re in fighting shape, yeah?”
This seemed sensible enough to Marlene. Mary popped her head out from below and raised her arms to Marlene. Regulus gratefully handed her off and turned back to James and Lily.
Even with one good hand, Malfoy wasn’t doing too badly against the two of them. Regulus readjusted his grip on the knife and started forward. Sirius wolf-whistled, catching his attention.
Sirius blew a lock of hair from his red-rimmed eyes. He shook the rifle in his hands.
“Get him open for a shot!” Sirius screamed from above. Regulus nodded and sprung into action.
Malfoy caught Lily’s sword at a bad angle, the force of the contact reverberating through her arms and knocking her off balance. James took a hack at Malfoy’s wielding elbow, only for Malfoy to meet his blade and throw him stumbling backwards. Regulus filled in the gap, slashing at Malfoy’s middle. Malfoy jerked backward, freeing a space for Regulus to jam his foot into Malfoy’s ribs and send him a few more steps back. He slammed into the foremast, knocking the breath from him. Regulus reared back and threw his knife.
Follow through, he remembered at the last second.
The blade hit Malfoy square in the chest, just below the hollow of his throat, landing with a wet thunk into bone. Lily regained her position and pounced on Malfoy’s weidling arm, slapping the sword from his hand and dropping her own to hold down his arm. James came up to Mafloy’s other side, yanking back his stub of a hand. Lily delivered a sharp kick to his leg, sending Malfoy to his knees.
Regulus approached Malfoy. When struggled, Regulus grabbed hold of the knife in his chest and twisted savagely. Malfoy wheezed, his body paralyzed.
“I told you this wasn’t a fair fight,” Regulus growled, “If you had any brains, you would have walked yourself off the plank like I asked.”
“I’d rather die than listen to a traitor!” Malfoy spat blood onto the deck.
“Then it’s a good thing you’ll die anyway at the hands of one.”
Regulus pressed forward on the knife, plunging it deeper. Malfoy screamed. Regulus just leaned in closer, close enough for Malfoy to hear the last words ever uttered to him.
“This is for Remus Lupin. Maybe now you’ll remember his name.”
Blade splintered bone and Malfoy’s head dropped to his chest, lolling inanimately. Regulus relaxed, but didn’t let go of the knife. James released Malfoy’s arm. Lily bent to retrieve her short sword.
“Regulus.”
A ghostly whisper. Regulus’s head shot up.
Malfoy's head stood upright, green eyes staring into Regulus’s. Smoke poured from his open mouth, black as shadow, black as ink, and Malfoy closed his fingers around Regulus’s, closed around the hilt of the very knife embedded in his chest and pulled, pulled the knife free. Regulus, in his shock, flinched and jumped back. Malfoy threw the knife to the side.
Before Regulus could stop it, Malfoy’s magic had already crawled over him and he couldn’t have moved even if he wanted to.
And he wanted to. As the world around him became sick and black, just as it had before with Peter’s spell, Regulus wanted to be as far away from Malfoy and his magic as possible. But it was like being stuck in honey, Malfoy’s words low and oozing.
“Little Black,” Malfoy trilled, “The lost Duke. The second son. I know how your family rejects you.”
Step. Fall back.
“You’re a spare, princeling. A ghost. You haunt the halls of your own home, unseen. Unheard. No one hears you even now. Your pleas are lost. You are lost.”
Step. Fall back.
“Your brother abandoned you.”
Regulus’s eyes, white and glassy, frantically searched the deck for a face. But all his vision could focus towards was Malfoy and his laughing, skeletal smile.
“Don’t look for James,” Malfoy leered, “He won’t help you. Why would he risk himself for such a low reward? You’re high-born trash, Regulus, which is a hard thing to be given your family legacy.”
Step. Regulus was on his knees.
“You’re a curse, just like all the other Blacks. You’ll ruin his life, your James. You plague his potential. He would have been better off if you had drowned.”
Regulus pressed his hands to his ears. He must have screamed, but he couldn’t hear it.
“He would have been better off if you were dead. Sirius wanted you to die. He would have let you die a thousand times over.”
Regulus slammed his hand against the side of his head. His fist connected with his old kidnapping wound, where Sirius had smacked him with the gate lock the first night they saw each other in years. Blood, hot and sticky, rolled down his face from the reopened wound.
“You cannot escape me. I am your blood. You are a curse. You aren’t even alive. You’re a ghoul with my bad blood and you will die here.”
A shadow raised itself over Regulus’s head. He weakly raised his arms against it, bracing for the impact of iron.
But the blow never came.
Like being pulled from a cold tide, Regulus gasped as the spell was heaved off of him.
An arm pulled him up to his feet. He blinked, the white blindness of magic receding from his vision. Someone was saying something to him. Who or what, wasn’t yet clear.
Malfoy was on the ground. A knife was buried in his right shoulder. Evan, free hand extended out with the velocity of his winning throw, readjusted his grip on Regulus.
Another set of cold fingers worked their way to his shoulder from behind. Pandora, pale and glimmering, a seraph in the twilight, held fast to his shoulder.
Benign and long-suffering as an angel, she bent her head towards Regulus, touching their foreheads.
“Only you and I can finish this,” she said softly, “Magic against magic.”
Her voice was murky and merciful under the dissipating veil of spellwork. Regulus was in a state of in-between; death and life, conscious and unconscious. He nodded and spoke without really speaking at all.
“Do it,” he croaked.
And Pandora did.
Magic swept over him once more, reality slinking away as he slipped into a new state. A state where power did not control him any longer. A conduit, rather than a victim. Pandora’s magic, unlike Malfoy’s, was lighter than air, flowing through him like a creek through the country.
When Regulus inhaled, each breath felt fresh and sharp and strong. His vision was still obscured, but only thinly, a veil of Pandora’s silky magic cast over his head like a bridal train.
He could see Malfoy and Malfoy only.
Words spilled from his lips without him having to think about them. He watched Malfoy step and fall back and crawl on his knees, the way he himself must have done in the face of such powerful casting. Magic howled in his ears. Regulus was a god once more.
Until he wasn’t.
Crashing down from magic, he learned, was much less pleasant than rising with it.
A blow to his head knocked him back to the present. A felled tree, Regulus sunk back into Evan’s arms, both boys falling to the ground.
In another in-between state, with Pandora’s happy flush of magic leaking away from him, Regulus heard one thing and saw another.
What he heard; The ring of rifle fire. The thunk of Sirius landing back on deck, Just above the hum of the spell, right before he was smacked down to the real world, he heard Pandora shout…
“Sirius, don’t!”
What he saw; Malfoy dead on the ground, a long, gaping slash to his neck. Remus, standing over his body, sabre drawn and lined with blood. Sirius had an arm around Remus, keeping him standing.
The butt of Sirius’s rifle, smoking, also dripping blood, but not Malfoy’s.
Regulus’s.
He didn’t see James, who had immediately come to his side once he passed out and the first volley of twitches struck Regulus’s limbs. Liquid coated the side of Regulus’s head, trickling into his ear. He didn’t hear what James said as the world faded away.
Am I bleeding red? He wondered, Or black?