Author's Note: As I announced on my Twitter recently ( canimallow if you're interested in following), I thought it would be a fun challenge to write at least one story with Hermione paired with every single Death Eater. It's going to be a crazy ride, that's for sure. So, for my next installment, I wanted to go for a real challenge. If you've never heard of Gibbon (read the books if you haven't yet), that's understandable. His only contribution in canon is to cast the Dark Mark and then die almost immediately when Thorfinn Rowle's avada misses its mark. Hardly a memorable character! But, what if he DIDN'T die? This is where I'm hoping to have some fun. And obviously, there will be some deviations from canon, so when you see familiar scenes that are a little bit different, just go with it. That's half the fun of fanfiction!
This story will be for mature audiences, especially in later chapters. Expect violence, possibly graphic, dark wartime situations, sexual content, death, blood, gore, reckless behavior, sexual content, dumb heroics, and plenty of mistakes.
Chapter One
"Morsmorde!"
The word felt strange on his tongue. There had never been a reason for him to cast the spell before. It was hardly something one did just on a lark or to show off to a pretty girl. No, it was not something to play around with. One didn't cast it until there was a reason.
When he was told to climb to the top of the Astronomy Tower to announce their presence only moments after climbing through the repaired vanishing cabinet in the Room of Requirement from Borgin and Burkes, the wizard had been excited. He hadn't been asked to go on many missions over the half a year he'd first knelt before the Dark Lord and pledged his life and magic to his service. Considered one of the 'young pups', a term he absolutely loathed, he hadn't had a chance to prove himself worthy of the skull and snake on his left arm. Kept mostly to the back to be used only to clean up messes or perform the truly odious tasks the more senior Death Eaters didn't want to bother themselves with, if most of the Dark Lord's inner circle weren't still locked up in Azkaban following the debacle of the Department of Mysteries nearly a year earlier, he would've been left behind again.
But, there hadn't been many available to assist the young Malfoy brat in his mission. Certainly not the brightest and best, whether he wished to admit that to himself or not. No, Gibbon was only on the Hogwarts mission because there was no one else who could go instead. And he strongly suspected his best mate put in a good word for him. Thorfinn claimed he wasn't fucking the insane Lestrange bitch, but he'd never known his childhood friend to be all that particular about where he jammed his cock. It had gotten him stuck in a scrape or two over the years that he had to rely on his friends to help him get out of.
He took a moment to stare at the massive Dark Mark hovering in the sky above the castle. It wouldn't be long before panic set in amongst the villagers in Hogsmeade. He wished that he had had a chance to warn his elderly grandmother to stay inside her house no matter what that night, but everything happened so quickly there hadn't been time to send an owl. Sometimes the woman could be far too determined to get herself into trouble. His mum said it was the curious natures of all the members of that side of the family. They often had a tendency to wander where they didn't belong. Unfortunately, it was a trait that hadn't passed him by.
Shouts and screams of horror wafted up the stairs. They'd been warned before they entered the vanishing cabinet that everything was bound to happen quickly once they stepped into the castle. Knowing he had to prove himself on his first mission to be worthy enough for a second, Gibbon ran straight down the stairs and into the commotion.
There were aurors and professors and students battling the small contingency of Death Eaters and the fucking werewolf who wished he was one. Where had all of the adults come from? They were expecting minimal interference beyond the other professors. The Ministry of Magic stationed aurors around the castle and in the nearby village, but how could they have made it up to the top of the castle so quickly?
Gibbon couldn't afford to think much once he arrived in the heat of the skirmish. Curses flew left and right, some narrowly missing him. He stepped back into a niche in the stone wall to catch his breath. His heart raced. This was what he had been training and practicing for. Serving the Dark Lord wasn't for the faint of heart. He knew that from the very beginning he felt the burn of his arm. While they were practice dueling and preparing for action, no one told him how scared he would be when it came down to actually fighting. Was it just him? Did his comrades in arms feel the same way?
Based on the confidence each of them, even the blasted Carrows, showed as they fought their opponents, he didn't think they did. Greyback was laughing. How could anyone find anything they were doing the least bit amusing? Gibbon thought he was on the verge of throwing up. Perhaps he wasn't as strong and brave as he thought. The Dark Lord would punish him for sure when he learned he'd done nothing but hide in a corner waiting for it all to be over.
Forcing himself to act braver than he felt, Gibbon stepped out of the niche straight into the fray. A little blonde girl who had no business being there bumped into his back. Worried that she was getting far too close to the worst of the battle, he pushed her down hard into the niche he just left. She stayed down on the floor cradling her wrist, staring at him with wide, dreamy eyes. If a broken wrist kept her down and out of the fight, he wouldn't feel guilty about pushing her. She should've been tucked away safely in her common room at that time of night, not battling grown adults intoxicated with blood lust. Had the whole fucking world gone completely insane?
One look at his best mate Thorfinn and he thought he had the answer. There wasn't an ounce of fear in the massive blond's entire body. Or he was a rather good actor. Gibbon once saw the wizard scream like a little girl when a grindylow grabbed his ankle when they were swimming in a lake as teenagers. He still teased him about it any time they got near murky water. Maybe Finn was just as terrified as he was, but still able to fight. Somehow he had to figure out how to act the same or there would be no living down his cowardice in battle. If he was allowed to live long when it was all over, he would always be remembered as the wizard too afraid to cast a single spell. He didn't want a bad reputation when he was still trying to prove himself worthy of being a Death Eater.
There was no rhyme or reason to the spells Thorfinn cast around the confined area they were in. Did he even recognize the difference in friend and foe? It didn't seem so. Yaxley shouted at him to be more careful when a spell singed the sleeve of his robes. Even that didn't make Thorfinn suddenly more precise with his spells. With a build like his and the blond hair to match, there was no question the wizard had Viking blood in him. Were the legends of berserkers true? Based on how he kept casting, there seemed to be strong evidence.
A flash of green light flew out of the end of Thorfinn's wand. No longer content just using stunning and stinging spells, he was ready to kill. The avada headed straight for Gibbon. Frozen in fear, he didn't even try to get out of its way. While he knew it was always a possibility he could die on his mission, he never expected it to be because of his best friend. He was only twenty-four, far too young to die. What had he been thinking being there in the first place?
Two hands grabbed fistfuls of his robes and yanked him down. The careless avada flew over Gibbon's head to smash into an ugly statue only centimeters away. He wasn't dead. How was that possible? He just knew for sure he was about to discover what the afterlife was all about.
It was only then that he realized there was someone underneath him. Still clutching his robes in her hands, Gibbon's eyes met the terrified brown eyes of another witch who had no business being anywhere near the fighting. Was the other side planning on using children to fight all of their battles? If so, he had more faith in his side's ability to actually win.
"Why did you do that?"
He didn't know what possessed him to ask the girl, no, young woman, why she would do something so reckless. One look at the Gryffindor patch on her robes and he nearly rolled his eyes. Of course a foolish Gryffindor wouldn't hesitate to put their own lives in danger to save someone's life. Not even if that person was one of their enemies.
"I don't know."
She seemed just as confused by her actions as he was. Another flash of a blindly thrown spell flew over their heads. More rubble and stonework crumbled around them. Without giving it any thought whatsoever, Gibbon covered the witch's body with his to protect her from the debris. For the brief seconds he shielded her, he could feel her heart threatening to beat out of her chest and her rapid breathing. When it seemed safe to roll off her, he did with a warning.
"Go back to your common room. Stay out of the fighting. You shouldn't be here."
Shouts coming from the stairs leading up to the tower energized the combatants. Looking up to see Snape and the Malfoy brat running at full speed down the corridor, Gibbon knew it was time to make his escape too. Whatever they were supposed to accomplish up there, clearly they had. Or they failed and were making a run for it. Either way, he didn't want to stick around to deal with the mess.
"Jack, hurry the fuck up!"
Choosing to forget for the moment that his best mate nearly killed him only a short time earlier, Gibbon jumped to his feet at Thorfinn's order. Only one step away from the witch still on the floor, he flashed her his brightest smile and winked.
"Thanks, love. I owe you one."
Hours later Hermione lay in her bed safely tucked away in Gryffindor Tower still completely shocked. How did her entire world change so drastically in one night? Unable to bear to listen to either the whispers of the other girls in her dormitory or the hauntingly beautiful lament Professor Dumbledore's phoenix Fawkes sang over the grounds, she closed the curtains around her bed and cast the strongest silencing charm she knew. Being alone with her thoughts that night wouldn't be easy, but she knew the alternative was worse.
She nearly died that night. It was a sobering thought. Without swallowing some of Harry's Felix Felicis potion, she suspected she wouldn't have made it through the fight with the Death Eaters. There had been far too many close calls to feel confident she would've made it on her own strength. They weren't just practice dueling any longer. Life and death was at stake. The murder of the Headmaster was proof of that.
If anyone was able to sleep that night, she would've been amazed. Perhaps only the naïve ones in the castle who didn't fully understand the entire world was different than it had been that morning could possibly fall asleep. Or the ones who were secretly celebrating the murder of Albus Dumbledore as some sort of proof that their side was going to win the war that had already begun. She hoped there weren't a large number of those, but she couldn't be sure.
And she couldn't stop thinking about that one Death Eater, the one she saved from the blond brute's killing curse. Everything happened so quickly. It was all chaotic. She grabbed his robes without even thinking twice. Maybe anyone else in her situation would've just let him be killed because he was the enemy, but she just couldn't do it. Something compelled her to grab him and quite literally pull him down on top of her. Why?
As far as she could tell in the midst of the madness, he hadn't cast a single spell. After running down the stairs where she learned later he cast the Dark Mark as an announcement to what was happening inside the castle, he seemed almost shocked by the violence he stumbled upon. Had she been seeing things that weren't there? He could've easily hurt her when he was lying on top of her on the floor in the middle of the battle. It wouldn't have taken him much effort to cast a spell straight to her chest she couldn't block or even crush her throat with his much larger and stronger hands. Why didn't he? Why did he actually shield her from the falling rubble? It was hardly the act of a dangerous enemy intent on making her suffer.
Luna saw it all happen. As far as Hermione was aware, she was the only witness. When they were all forced to go to the infirmary, she was still in a daze. After Luna had her broken wrist set and repaired by Madam Pomfrey, she sought Hermione out. Whispering together in a corner where no one else could hear, Luna told her what happened.
"He threw me down, but I don't think he was trying to hurt me. A spell exploded right where I'd been standing just seconds later. I think… he saved my life."
"I didn't see him cast any spells."
"No, neither did I. He seemed lost."
Hermione feared she and Luna were stuck in a shared delusion. The wizard was a Death Eater. That much was certain by the company he kept and by the fact he was able to move through the barrier on the stairs. Death Eaters weren't merciful to enemies, especially not young witches. They must have been mistaken about the wizard not casting any spells. There was so much going on around them. It was more likely they just didn't seem him engage anyone in a duel.
Even hours later she was still no closer to fully grasping the ramifications of the night's events. Maybe it would never be completely obvious. War was a messy, dangerous business and there was never going to be any guarantee that any of them would survive to the end. Especially not Harry. He was already taking everything that happened that night so personally. How could he possibly be expected to know that Professor Dumbledore would cast an impediment jinx on him while he was still underneath his invisibility cloak? Likely that was all that saved his life. If the Death Eaters, even traitorous Professor Snape, knew that he was there, he would've been kidnapped or worse.
There was a great deal of fear all throughout the castle. It was the middle of the night and dawn was a few hours away, but still there were concerned parents already arriving at the gates to demand their children come home with them. News travelled fast, bad news even faster. No one in their world would be ignorant of the Headmaster's murder before the day that was coming ended. It was completely understandable that worry would drive the parents to the castle. Clearly Hogwarts was no longer as safe as they thought. She couldn't blame anyone for wanting to leave to return to their own homes.
As much as she tried to push the depressing thoughts away, Hermione wished her own parents were marching up to the castle to drag her home. She didn't want to be there anymore. Terror like she'd never known seeped down into her very bones. It was all happening. No longer could the war be ignored. Not when it was on their doorstep.
Celebrations amongst the Death Eaters weren't nearly as exciting and raucous as they were whispered to be. At least not in Jack Gibbon's experience. Perhaps the rumors about massive dark revels where everyone engaged in deviant sexual acts with multiple partners in front of everyone while they were all drunk on illegal potions had been true once upon a time. Maybe if the older Death Eaters weren't mostly all locked up inside Azkaban their parties would be a little more fun. He felt like maybe some of the promises he'd been given when he was being recruited weren't entirely accurate.
The fire whiskey he drank was decidedly not Ogden's Finest. If sex was happening anywhere in the manor house he was sitting in, it certainly wasn't obvious. Beautiful witches willing to cater to his most debauched fantasies were nowhere to be found. All he could see was a tipsy Alecto Carrow who kept cutting her eyes at him from across the room in a manner he assumed she thought was flirtatious. There wasn't enough fire whiskey in the entire world to make that happen. Even just imagining the witch who was at least ten years older than him alone with him in the dark sent shudders up his spine. He'd rather cut it off.
Hours after making the rather dramatic escape from Hogwarts, he should've been pleased to be anywhere above ground. Without a little divine intervention in the form of that brown eyed girl with the curly hair, his cold body would probably be somewhere inside the castle. It was a sobering and depressing thought. Did his best mate even know how close he was to killing him? They'd been friends since they were little boys, practically inseparable. Thorfinn was essentially the one that recruited him for the Dark Lord's service. Not that it had been all that difficult. Where Thorfinn went, Jack followed. It was how it had always been.
"You look like your puppy just died, mate."
The sofa dipped down next to him when a beaming Thorfinn sat. He'd always been far too big for the world he'd been born into. Half the time the oaf didn't even realize how much he affected the space around him. Rarely did it fail to make Jack laugh. Not even that night.
"All these chairs around us and you still choose to sit basically on top of me. You know how the others will talk."
"You'd be lucky to fuck a bloke like me, Jackie. I'm pretty and I'm good at snuggling afterwards."
"You're certainly more desirable than the women here tonight."
Thorfinn's loud laughter pulled another smile out of his much more serious friend. While there were a few Death Eater witches who were beautiful and more who were merely pretty, none of them were available to celebrate the raid on Hogwarts on such short notice. Perhaps it was all for the best. He didn't actually feel up for any kind of fun. Despite it supposedly being a happy night and his personality usually the sort to search out the next party right alongside his friend, he felt more in the mood for broody, self-reflection in front of the fireplace.
"I'm prettier than your last girlfriend too."
The comment was perfectly timed to make Jack snort into his fire whiskey. Not expecting it, he could appreciate Thorfinn's attempt to make him laugh. No doubt he struggled to understand why he wasn't being his usual jovial self.
"You only say that because you're still mad she chose me over you."
"Which only goes to show she's very stupid. I don't like dumb girls. You can have them all."
"You've fucked plenty of stupid birds."
"Fucked? Yes. Fallen in love with? Never. If they can't keep my interest outside of bed, I'm not interested. Isabel wasn't hideous, but I don't know how you could stand to have an entire conversation with her. I think I'd want to avada us both before it was over."
The casual mention of the killing curse brought up uncomfortable memories from earlier that night. Not that they'd ever fully gone away. No one had yet to mention how careless Thorfinn had been. Was he even aware how close he came to killing his best friend with friendly fire? When they made their escape and were safely away from the castle, he confided in Jack his remorse that he'd almost killed the groundskeeper's dog when he cast the spell to burn the hut down.
"I didn't know the poor pup was in there or I wouldn't have done it. Heat of the moment and all."
Jack reassured Thorfinn that he saw Hagrid run out of the burning hut with his massive drooling dog safely in his arms unhurt. The loud sigh of relief coming out of his friend would've made him laugh under normal circumstances. How his conscience could be perfectly at ease cursing complete strangers to death, but then turn around and fear for the life of an animal was just one facet to the complicated man. If he hadn't been so close to dying that night, Jack would've said something. Instead, he kept his mouth shut just to stew in his thoughts for hours.
"You nearly killed me tonight."
That was, of course, until he had plenty of fire whiskey to give him the courage to have the necessary but uncomfortable conversation no one else seemed willing to have. What was the benefit of having a fierce fighter like Thorfinn on their side if they all had to remain in constant worry his spells wouldn't hit their intended marks? Blind rage and fury was only an asset if they wanted to burn the world down around them. It wasn't. Their goal was to rebuild the world into a better version with their Dark Lord at the helm.
"What?"
Thorfinn spun around so fast to meet Jack's eyes that the whiskey in his glass sloshed over the side. Ignoring the wet spot just above his knee on his trousers, Jack merely sighed. Likely there was a better way to bring it up than that. Try as hard as he could, he wasn't always the most eloquent. Sometimes he could be far too blunt.
"It was right after I ran down the stairs from the Astronomy Tower after casting the Dark Mark. You were throwing spells all over the place. No rhyme, no reason, no control. A killing curse came right at my face."
Though he looked horrified at the thought for half a second, Thorfinn snorted out a laugh.
"Clearly it didn't hit you."
"Only because one of those foolish girls we were fighting pulled me out of the way at the last second. If she hadn't done that…"
He shook his head. It was hard to say the words out loud. No longer finding any part of their discussion the least bit funny, Thorfinn cleared his throat and lowered his blue eyes to the glass he held in his hand. His broad shoulders slumped. When he dared to speak again, his voice was much softer and far less boisterous than it usually was. At least he was able to feel some remorse and shame for his careless actions.
"I had no idea. Jackie, I…"
"Forget it. Just… just promise me you'll be more careful next time?"
Thorfinn nodded. With the air cleared between them, a silence that wasn't entirely comfortable fell between the two men. Still watching them in the corner of the room, Jack hated feeling Alecto's eyes on him. Rumor was there was about to be a mass breakout from Azkaban within days. He hoped they would hurry up and get it over with. The witch had been obsessed with Antonin Dolohov since she was a first year. When he was free again, she could focus all of that terrifying attention on that poor bloke and leave the rest of them alone.
"You owe her a life debt. You realize that, don't you?"
Startled out of his increasingly disturbing thoughts about the Carrow woman to his relief, Jack wasn't sure what to say to Thorfinn's statement. He'd heard about life debts before, but never paid them much mind. When would he ever be in a situation where it was possible? Before he joined the ranks of the Death Eaters, he'd led a fairly boring, uneventful life.
"If the only reason you're still alive is because she pulled you out of the way, then you owe her."
"I suppose I do."
"That could get complicated if she keeps fighting on the wrong side of this war."
He didn't want to imagine the worst of the possibilities. Life debts were magical bonds, ones that couldn't be broken until they were repaid. For better or for worse, whether the young woman chose wisely or poorly, his life was inextricably linked with hers. Ancient magic, there was no way around it. Even if it ultimately cost him his life in the process, he would have to save her life somehow.
"Was she pretty at least? I didn't get a good look at any of them."
"Yes, she was. What does it matter?"
Thorfinn shrugged his broad shoulders.
"Doesn't really. Just curious. Maybe you'll get lucky and get a shag out of the ordeal."
"She's still in school, mate. Not sure that's legal."
"She'll grow up. It can take years to fulfill a life debt. Maybe even decades. I heard once about a wizard that had to wait over a hundred years before his was fulfilled."
He hadn't considered any of the possible ramifications of owing someone a life debt. Though he was far from stupid despite what his abysmal NEWT marks said, that was one area of magic he felt completely ignorant about. If there was more information out there about what he would be required or expected to do, he needed to find it. A visit to Flourish and Blotts seemed to be in his immediate future.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, old friend. I heard a rumor that Yaxley's wife is sleeping upstairs. Last week she confided in me that she hasn't felt attractive since she hasn't lost her baby weight yet and Corban's been too busy to pay her much attention. I'm going to do what I can to show her just how attractive and pleasurable a little extra on the bones can be."
The depraved waggle of Thorfinn's eyebrows should've made him laugh. So should the audacity the wizard had to try to seduce the wife of the wizard of the manor while he was just a floor or two away. Usually it did. More than once he'd been forced to help his best mate out of a dangerous situation his cock led him into. Often it was a game.
"Try to be careful, Finn. Yaxley can be a right bastard if you cross him. Learned that the hard way a time or two at work."
His loud laughter was the only response he would provide. Just as he promised, he left the room to sneak up the main staircase. When Jack noticed Alecto stand up from her chair on the other side of the room and start to make her way in his direction, he decided it was time he went home. He'd already been there far too long. There was another witch heavy on his mind and it definitely wasn't Carrow.
Her heart still continued to beat far too fast. Was she in danger of having a heart attack or a stroke even at her young age? It seemed possible. The human body could only be put through so much stress and still function properly as usual. Fear could literally kill too. No one wanted to remember that terribly uncomfortable truth.
Sitting in the booth in the tacky Muggle cafe on Tottenham Court Road, Hermione tried to relax. They'd made it away from the wedding at the last second. Death Eaters were already swarming the Burrow's back garden, but they were whole and unharmed. She had to remain positive that the loved ones they left behind were the same.
After a heated discussion with Harry and Ron about their next steps, she tried to focus solely on slowing her heart-rate. Sipping on the cappuccino wasn't likely to help matters with its caffeine, but at least it gave her something to do with her hands. None of them could afford to lose hope. If the Ministry had fallen, something they all suspected would likely happen soon, they had to just treat it as one more complication and move on. Their mission was far too important.
The opening of the cafe door caught her attention. Three men dressed in workman's coveralls entered. She wouldn't have normally paid them much mind as they made their way to the front counter except there was something terribly familiar about the one in the back walking behind the first two. When their eyes met, his widened in what could only be described as sheer terror. She reached into her pocket for the end of her wand. There was no question that he was the Death Eater she saved the night Dumbledore was murdered. And if he was a Death Eater, then the other two…
Two bright red lights flew out of the frightened man's wand. Both stunners hit his comrades in the back, knocking them loudly to the floor of the greasy cafe. Realizing what he had done, he almost dropped his wand. His deep blue eyes met hers again.
"Fuck me. I'm in for it now."