Written for the QLFC. Each team had a minor character to write about and everyone could chose when the story should take place. Our character is "Gibbon" and the time I chose is "Christmas at Hogwarts".

Position: Beater 2. GO PUDDLES!

Prompts:

7. (word) frostbite

9. (quote) A man is not old until regrets take the place of dreams. John Barrymore

13. (word) bag

Enjoy reading :D

The Embarras de Richesses

"This damn weather is giving me frostbite!" He scowled, as he held his hands above the warm flames in the fireplace of the Slytherin Common Room. The fire and the candles of the Christmas tree were the only sources of light that illuminated the dungeon room, bathing it in an eerie light, causing goose bumps to rise on his skin.

"Aww, is the cold ruining your perfect skin, Jace?"

"Shut the fuck up, Mulciber!"

Mulciber cackled, let his bag fall to the ground and threw himself onto the couch in front of the fire, sprawling over it and yawning loudly.

"I can't believe it's Christmas break already," he rubbed his eyes. "Stupid holiday. I swear, if I hear one more stupid Mudblood whine about how they can't go back home to their filthy parents, I'm gonna be sick!"

"Who won't be? Move, you dolt!" Alecto Carrow pushed his legs from the couch and sat down, eyeing Gibbon suspiciously. "Hey, Gib? Something the matter?"

Jacen blinked, but continued to stare into the flickering flames in front of him. Their warmth spread through his fingers, into the palm of his hand, up his arm and seemed to concentrate on the inner side of his bare forearm. Wincing, he rubbed the spot, causing the imaginary pain to subside.

"Yeah, Jace, you're awfully quiet. What is it, mate?"

Turning around, Jacen frowned as he watched his friends stare at him with open curiosity written all over their faces. Huffing, he took one last look at the fiercely flickering flames, before he started to walk to and fro in front of them. He didn't know whether he wanted to tell them or not. Sure, they were his friends, but there are some things one has to decide by themselves, especially if it's something as important as one's future.

He knew what they thought about this whole topic. He knew what his father wanted him to do; he knew what his mother wanted him to do. He knew what everyone somewhat important to him wanted him to do, but he didn't know whether that was the way he would want to go. After all, the decision was his to make and nobody should interfere with it, or try to talk him into joining or not joining or whatever. He wanted to make his family proud of him. He wanted them to look him in the eye and tell him that he was a yield to the Gibbon family. He had always wanted to make his parents proud and with this opportunity, he would be able to make that happen. But was that really the right way to go about it?

He shook his head to get all the confusing thoughts out of his head. What had his uncle always told him before he was killed by one of Dumbledore's pawns? 'Choose your own way, but choose it wisely.' That was what he was trying to do if it were not so bloody complicated and confusing.

He stopped in his nervous pacing and stood in front of his friends, his back to the hot flames, his head held high. He could do this.

"I have a slight problem as to what to do."

"Oh, isn't that something new?"Amycus laughed, only stopping after being hit against the head by his sister. "What was that for?"

"Just shut up and listen, will you? What the fuck is wrong with you? Seriously…"

Eyeing his friends suspiciously, Gibbon started his pacing again.

"You know what my father told me would be time for after the first week of Christmas break at Hogwarts, right?"

He stopped and turned to his classmates who were sprawled all over the couches and chairs in front of the fire.

"Yeah, you told us. What about it?" Mulciber sat up straighter and looked him in the eye. "Want to chicken your way out of it?"

"No, that's not what I meant and you know that." Jacen glared at his childhood friend as if to dare him to answer back. "I just don't know if it's the right time, you know? I mean, father always talks about what great things the Dark Lord stands for and what his plans for the future of the Wizarding World are, and I understand them, don't get me wrong, it's just… And if you tell anybody what I'm about to tell you, you'll be dead before you can say 'Salazar', got it?"

"Yeah, mate. Just get out with it. It can't be that bad," Amycus grumbled, twirling a strand of his hair around a finger.

"You can't know that," his sister whispered, her eyes never leaving those of Jacen Gibbon.

Taking a deep breath, Jacen managed with all his might to stand still and say out loud, what he had been thinking about for years now.

"What if I regret it?"

Silence followed. A silence so heavy that he had to force himself not to fall back into nervous habits like pushing his light brown hair out of his eyes, rubbing his hands together as he felt them getting sweaty; it showed uncertainty and maybe even fear. They were his friends; they wouldn't condemn him for the way he was thinking… right? He gulped. Had it been a mistake to tell them? Would they be so blinded by their will to make their parents proud, to live up to their family's expectations that they would be ready and willing to cast him out? Would they tell his father what he had just told them?

"Well, the way I see it," Mulciber's voice ripped him out of his reverie and back to the present where his friends stared at him with wide eyes and open mouths. "You can't regret something you've been too much of a pussy to not do, mate."

He blinked.

"Yeah, he's right, you know." Amycus let his strand of dark brown hair fall from his fingers and scratched his jaw. "My grandfather always said 'A man is not old until regrets take the place of dreams.' So I think it's part of the decision we make. We're supposed to make decisions, go down pathways that we may later regret, but at the moment don't regret at all. I'd live in the moment, mate. I'd do what's right, what makes my family proud and join the cause! You've just said so yourself! You get the reasoning behind the Dark Lord's views of the world and you agree with them, don't you? So act like it!"

Alecto giggled and hit him playfully against his upper arm. "Where does the insight come from all of a sudden, dear brother of mine?"

Amycus shrugged and pushed his rather long hair behind his ear, trying to downplay the heat that started to rise to his cheeks. "Ah, it's been known to happen."

"So, you'd say to go for it," Jacen tried to get his friend back onto the topic that had – in his opinion – the highest priority at the moment. "You say to ignore those potential regrets I might have to deal with later on and join you guys and the Dark Lord."

"Yeah, that's exactly what I said." Amycus sat up straighter, pushing her sister's hand that was still lying on his shoulder off and turned his gaze to his friend. "We'll join him on our seventeenth birthday, which means in about three months. You already are seventeen, so you could join him as soon as possible, really. Up to you."

Jacen frowned. He had thought a lot about this whole topic – had barely thought of anything else for the last two years, ever since his father had started to prepare him for the tasks he would have to be able to fulfill, once he was in the ranks of the Dark Lord. He had studied ancient magic, blood rituals, poisons, even family lines of old pureblood families, so he would be able to immediately tell whether the suspect lied about their blood status. He had had various discussions with his mother who, at first, hadn't wanted him to join when he became of age. She had wanted him to at least wait for a couple more years, so he would be sure that he would be capable to fulfill the Dark Lord's tasks as she didn't want her son to be punished.

Not everybody had been given the opportunity to actually choose whether they wanted to join or not. He had found it generous of his parents that they were willing to let him make his own decisions without trying to force him into submission. And he was grateful for that. Not everybody had the chance to make their own decisions without being pushed into the direction their parents wanted their child to go. They didn't have the embarras de richesses, as his father always called it, between joining what was right and trying to ignore the lurking feeling that something wasn't, or denying your destiny and being hunted down until you could no longer think about those things. When he looked at it impartially, he did not really have a choice after all, but the feeling of being able to choose one's future was also important. Having the power and the support needed to protect his family from Dumbledore and his goons, as well as revenging his uncle would only be a plus.

He knew what he had to do. He knew what he would do when his father would step through the fire into the Slytherin Common Room and ask him to join his initiation, his first ever Death Eater meeting, his first meeting of being a part of an organization that had the goal to make the world a better place for the wizards inhabiting it. He knew what he would do when the time would come. He knew what path he would choose. It wasn't an embarras de richesses – not anymore.

Word count: 1657

A/N: I hope you liked it! I'd absolutely love it if you left a review ^.^