For QL, season 2, game 5. My chosen event was a day at work. Optional prompts: pristine and sealing
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He arrives in the corner shop before dawn, as he has for the two years, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He loathes mornings. But he does what he has to do to pay the rent on the tiny flat he owns.
The doorbell chimes as he enters. With a wave of his wand, the lights turn on and the sign reads "Open." He groans at the state of the shop. The new merchandise is still in their boxes from the delivery the night before.
He puts his coat behind the counter and sets about placing the merchandise. He would love to wave his wand and have the merchandise stock itself, but he doesn't know what the batty shopkeeper has ordered this time. It could be dangerous if he's not careful.
He's not sure how long he has spent stocking the shelves when he hears the doorbell chime.
"My, my," a voice tsks.
He turns around. In front of him is Lucius Malfoy, standing tall and proud, his long platinum hair pulled back in its signature ponytail and his hands resting on his walking stick. There's a smirk on his face and amusement in his eyes.
"Who would've thought that you, Gibbon, would be stocking shelves for some half breed?" Lucius drawls.
His cheeks flush with annoyance. Even while they were at school together, Lucius always had a sense of superiority. Gibbon's parents had given him a lot of things, but nowhere in the range of what Lucius' parents gave to him. And Lucius knows this. He's trying to get a rise out of Gibbon.
Forcing a smile to his face, he asks, voice tight, "What can I do for you today, Malfoy?"
Lucius shoves a list into Gibbon's hands. "I need these things. I will be back for them this afternoon."
"I will see what I can do," he replies.
Before Lucius leaves, he gives Gibbon a once over. "You shouldn't be a shop keeper's assistance, with such pristine blood," he says.
Gibbon watches Lucius disappear through the door. He's no fool; he knows what Lucius was clever enough to insinuate. He stares at the doorway, playing the words over in his head.
As much as he hates to admit it, Lucius is right. Someone like him, with pure blood, shouldn't be doing such a lowly job. He should be working at the Ministry, like his father and grandfather before him. His N.E.W.T.s, however, weren't good enough for that, much to the disappointment of his family. And his father refused to pull the necessary strings to secure him a job.
What Lucius is suggesting is honorable, though. To fight to keep their blood pure. To fight for a cause. It could make his family proud of him again. It could be the thing that patches things up.
Loud, booming steps brings him back. The shop keeper is standing in front of him, dark eyes bloodshot and reeking of alcohol. "What are you doing?" he demands. "There's work to be done, you good for nothing, lazy fool!"
Gibbon flushes again. Anger rises up in his chest like a wildfire. He may not have been sure before, but he's certain now. He won't take orders from someone beneath him.
It takes all his willpower not to say something. Instead, he turns his back and collects the items on the list from Lucius. He tends to his job, ignoring his drunken boss, until Lucius comes strutting back into the shop.
"I see you have my things," he notes. His eyes lands on the neatly wrapped package on the counter.
Gibbon nods. He passes the bags over to Lucius as he exchanges the money. "Say if I wanted to do something other than this, how would I go about it?"
Lucius looks at him. And a smirk crosses his face. "All you would have to do is ask," he replies slyly.
"This is me asking," Gibbon informs him, sealing his fate.
"Excellent," Lucius drawls. "I'll contact you with further information." Lucius grabs his bags and exits the shop.
.
The contact came three days later. It's an anonymous owl with nothing more than an address, a time, and orders to burn the parchment after reading.
As he lights the parchment, he feels excitement rush through his body. He hasn't felt this sort of rush since he was at Hogwarts, going to Hogsmeade for the first time with a pretty blonde girl.
He makes it through his shift at the shop and quickly closes the shop. It's an hour early, but he doubts that his boss would even notice.
He Apparates to the address that is burned into his memory. It's a large, run down manor in Little Hangleton. Gibbon can tell that it once was a beautiful, lively manor, but it's obvious that no one has lived in it for years.
Lucius is there to greet him at the door. They exchange no words as Lucius leads him further into the manor. He cannot prevent himself from glancing around, noticing the cobwebs and dust that has gathered on the furniture. Lucius finally pushes the door open to a room.
The room is large. A chandelier hangs from the ceiling and the once golden walls are peeling. People stand around the edges of the room.
A man, tall and dark, makes his way to the middle of the room. The room falls quiet. "I see that you have brought some new recruits."
Gibbon watches as a few people in the room nods enthusiastically. And one by one, the members step forward, their recruits in tow. It isn't until the third one that Gibbon realizes what spell the man is using.
He hears the screams of the boy. And he stutters. There's no mistaking that curse. After a few moments, a flash of green invades Gibbon's sights. When he refocuses on the boy, his eyes are lifeless.
So that's what he does to those that don't pass his test, Gibbon thinks to himself.
Lucius steps forward and Gibbon has enough sense to follow. "My lord," Lucius says, bowing.
Gibbon mimics. "My lord."
He doesn't get a chance to say much more as he feels the Cruciatus curse flood his body. He doesn't have much experience with it. Every vein in his body feels like it's going to explode. A sound is nearly ripped from his throat. But he manages to compartmentalize the pain, forcing it back into the deepest part of his mind where he is likely to forget about it. It helps.
He pants at the effort not to scream, to cry out. After what seems like forever, the curse is lifted. "What's your name?"
"Gibbon, my lord," he croaks. "Jacen Gibbon."
The man nods and holds out his hand. Having previously seen this action, Gibbon offers up his left arm. The wand that is pressed against his skin is cool compared to his body. The relief is short-lived.
He isn't expecting the pain that accompanies the Mark. And he barely manages to contain his cry.
Once it's done, he gets up on shaky legs. He stands behind Lucius as he did before. He has a new job, a new purpose. He's not going to mess this up.
A/n – so many thanks to Emily for being a doll and beta-ing this for me.