Chapter Two: The Dark Mark
December 1997
Fully satisfied from the Christmas leftovers his mother had served, Fred sat at the table and watched his mother's chagrined expression as she set a plate in front of Mundungus Fletcher. His witty comment about his mother serving Dung caught on his tongue though as he realized that his mother was tolerating Mundungus's presence simply because she hoped he might have heard something about Jen.
Mundungus had been one of the last to arrive. Tonks, Remus, Kingsley, Hestia Jones, McGonagall, George, and Lee Jordan already sat around the table having finished the food that Molly had served. McGonagall and Kingsley shared the head of the table and sat talking to one another quietly. "We can't wait any longer," McGonagall said after clearing her throat.
"Arthur should be home by now," Mrs. Weasley said nervously, glancing towards the magical gold clock on the wall. At this point in the war though, Fred found the clock to be utterly useless. All eight hands continuously pointed towards "mortal peril."
"Molly, we can't wait," Kingsley said gently. Tonks patted the empty chair besides her and Molly reluctantly took a seat. Tonks removed one hand from her protruding abdomen and patted Molly's arm soothingly as the older woman's hands trembled around her cup of tea.
Fred released a breath he had not even realized he had been holding.
Jen's continued absence from the Order meetings could be a good thing or a bad thing, but Fred found he no longer cared about the reasons, he just wanted to lay eyes on her. Meetings occurred nightly at this point. Although Kingsley was on the run and McGonagall was often required to be at Hogwarts, some group of members always managed to meet at one of their various safe houses. Not all members attended every night, but over the last month, Fred had been obsessively attending meetings, making George cover shifts that would normally be his at Wheezes if the meeting was earlier in the day.
The Order's well-placed spy usually managed to attend at least one meeting every fortnight with some regularity. The Death Eaters skewed old. Existing members seem reluctant to allow their children to join, and the most fervent supporters had been Azkaban when they should have been having children. When Jen had arrived, the Death Eaters realized she could help with recruiting. They often sent her out alone, a sort of honey trap, to talk to wizards and witches who had only just left school and had even mild Death Eater sympathies. In this capacity, Jen could often get away with some regularity, skirting her duties as assigned by the Death Eaters and arriving at an Order safe house to give an update. But, for over a month, no one had seen nor heard from her. Fred nervously drummed his fingers on the table until an inquisitive look from Lee caused him to stop as he smiled at his best mate.
McGonagall and Kingsley started the meeting by discussing what needed to be shared on Potterwatch. In a very un-Lee-like fashion, Jordan scribbled prodigious notes, his head lowered to the table and his dreads resting on his arm. Lupin volunteered to join the upcoming broadcast and George volunteered himself and Fred as well.
The normal proceedings of the meeting were suddenly interrupted.
A loud knock reverberated around the room and Arthur could be heard calling for his wife. Molly jumped up with a profound sense of relief and went to the door, nearly running straight through the two patronuses taking form on the kitchen table. Two great glowing-white black bears stood to their full height and spoke with Jen's voice. "I'm alone and can attend a meeting, please send a response with location," each bear said simultaneously.
Fred felt giddy. Somewhere in his mind, he recognized that Jen's tone sounded off, clipped and emotionless. But mostly, he felt glee at the prospect of seeing her.
McGonagall quickly conjured her own patronus and sent it on its way to Jen as Arthur came into the kitchen and took a seat at the table.
"I was questioned by Yaxley for hours," Arthur said as he removed his glasses and cleaned them on his robes. "Apparently, Hermione and Harry were spotted fleeing Xenophilius's house—he's fine! Well, Xenophilius is alive, but he's on the run."
The table erupted in questions and exclamations of joy that Harry and Hermione had been spotted.
"Where was Ron?" Molly asked, her voice weak and her face pale.
Arthur reached for her hands and clasped both of hers tightly in his. "He wasn't with them, according to Yaxley," Arthur said quietly his own pale visage mimicking his wife's.
Fred felt sick and tried to keep his mind from spinning, worrying about his little brother.
"Or—" Tonk's started, clearly thinking aloud. "He wasn't seen by the Death Eaters."
Many around the table simply looked at her, but understanding flitted across Arthur's face. "The cloak," he whispered as color returned to his cheeks.
"Exactly," Tonks said with a smile. "It's brilliant isn't it?"
"I don't get it—" Lee started.
"They covered Ron with the invisibility cloak, allowed Harry and Hermione to be seen," Remus explained. "Ron's supposed to be here, sick. But they have to know Hermione is with Harry at this point."
"That plan sounds a lot like Hermione," George mused aloud.
Fred's giddy feeling returned: Harry, Hermione and Ron were alive, and in moments, he would be seeing Jen.
"But they were so close to us," Molly mewled from her seat next to Arthur. "They were so close and they didn't come see us," she explained.
"They probably couldn't risk it," Kingsley told her.
"What does this mean for Luna?" Lee asked. "If Xeno is on the run, do the Death Eaters need her anymore?"
The table grew quiet. "She's pure-blood, isn't she?" Tonks asked quietly. Several people nodded, but no one spoke.
A rapid knock sounded against the door. Everyone raised their wands.
Fred went to stand, but George placed a hand on his shoulder and stood first. Fred watched his brother go over to the door and grab one of the new Peruvian darkness powder-filled decoy detonators. He opened the door just wide enough to toss the detonator outside and then waited until he heard the tiny little pop that indicated that the powder had been released. Then he opened the door widely. Fred searched the air for the disturbance caused by a disillusionment charm. He could not hold back his beaming smile as he heard Jen's voice.
"My name is Jennifer Crowley, my father murdered a Death Eater in 1976 and left the country, taking me to America," she said as she removed the disillusionment charm from her body. George was the first to lower his wand and the others followed suit.
Fred drank in her appearance thirstily. She lowered her wand, but Fred noticed that she still held it in her hands. Her leather jacket had been replaced by a long, sweeping black robe that reminded Fred uncomfortably of what Snape normally wore. Her typically bright blue eyes looked tired, stressed. Her blonde hair hung lanky, nearing greasy. She looked sullen, unhappy. For a moment, Fred was impressed that she had been able to produce a patronus at all given the state she was in, but she caught his eye and shot him a smile that brightened her whole face.
George and Jen returned to the table and took their seats, Jen taking the spot next to Fred that George had previously occupied. Once she settled, Fred reached under the table for her hand and squeezed it. His stomach leapt as she returned the squeeze.
"So, how goes it?" Tonks asked Jen.
Ignoring pleasantries and launching into a business-like tone, Jen started to speak. "Potter was almost captured—"
"Yeah, we heard," interjected Lee.
"About Godric's Hollow?" Jen asked. "They were keeping that on the down-low."
"Godric's Hollow?" Hestia Jones asked. "We heard about Xenophilius Lovegood's place."
"Oh yeah, there's been multiple Potter misses by the Death Eaters. It's been driving the Dark Lord crazy. It's like living with a fucking bipolar teenager with a god complex. Potter and Granger were seen at Godric's Hollow. The Dark Lord was convinced that Potter would go there, so he had a lookout posted for months and they showed up at Christmas—"
"—was Ron with them?" Mrs. Weasley interjected fearfully.
Jen shook her head. Molly sat down weakly in her chair. "The Dark Lord saw Potter though. There had been some sort of duel before he got there, but Granger and Potter were able to escape. I have no idea how. Then there was the Xenophilius thing. The Dark Lord isn't convinced that it was actually Potter. He was livid that the Death Eaters let him get away." Jen took a deep breath. Fred realized that his mother was not in any state to get her any food, so he stood and began assembling a plate.
Jen continued to talk in a near monotone. "You-Know-Who has been spending a shit ton of time abroad lately. No one has any idea what he's doing and some of the less hard-core Death Eaters are getting pissed—thank you." She took the plate that Fred offered.
"The biggest win lately was the Christmas Party plan at the Ministry, although I'd hardly call it a well thought out plan. The idea was for departments to host Christmas parties, and then our sympathizers in the Ministry would attend and imperius as many high level staff as they could. They were able to get probably between thirty and fifty ministry workers, but literally no one was high level. I couldn't get here to tell you about it and warn people. Snape's been back since two weeks before the Christmas holidays started. I think he's suspicious of me, and I didn't want to take the chance of leaving.
I think he's had the Carrows tailing me during the break. They're always up my ass with questions about the American education system. They want to start a Death Eater base there among the younger witches and wizards and they want to see if there's a chance to somehow infiltrate Ilvermorny." Jen laughed. "Although, I don't even know how those two knobheads manage to infiltrate their own robes in the morning. They're complete morons."
Jen took a few bites off of her plate and washed it down with a big gulp of tea and then took another breath. "Ollivander is still in Malfoy Manor. They've been keeping Luna Lovegood in there as well. Honestly, I thought Ollivander would be dead by now. He was refusing meals and I thought he had just given up. But the Lovegood girl has upped his spirits significantly. The Death Eaters are clearly at a loss as to what to do with Luna though. It's weird, it's like they don't have it in them to kill her. I guess it would kind of be like killing a baby bunny or something. She's not even mean to her captors. Me and Draco take meals to the captives, and every time she thanks us and asks us how we are. Draco is another one who's been clinging to me like a fucking shadow."
"Sounds like someone has a crush," Lee mused aloud.
Jen laughed again. "Draco hardly has the mental energy to eat and get dressed, let alone convince himself he has feelings for me. Draco is probably a month away from a mental breakdown if he has to stay at Malfoy Manor. He's in way over his head. But, that makes him open to sharing, vulnerable," she mused aloud.
"I've had to recruit five new Death Eaters, all young former-Slytherins. I couldn't delay any longer, they were getting suspicious that I didn't have any movement on that front and were threatening to send Draco with me. But for the five I recruited, I found five other muggleborns and gave them the Tonks' location so that they can stop there before going abroad." Jen grinned.
"You can't do that sort of thing, Jen," McGonagall admonished.
"I'm going to keep my ledger balanced," Jen retorted.
"You just said that Snape has the Carrows tailing you," Kingsley pointed out.
"Sure, but I shook them. They were pretty easy to convince. Who's going to flirt with a girl in a bar while some professors sit lurking in the corner?"
"Still, you need to be careful," Remus said.
"I am, in my own way. But I'm not going to allow the muggleborns I come across to just die. These are young kids, some of them aren't even seventeen yet. They're trying to stay out of the no-maj world to protect their families I guess."
"But Jen—" McGonagall started.
"No! The day I let children die without intervening is the day that I truly become a Death Eater," Jen leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest with finality. The room fell into a rather uncomfortable silence.
"Erm, should we mention the Godric's Hollow Potter sighting during Potterwatch?" Lee asked, breaking the silence.
McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose as Kingsley spoke. "I'm not sure. It would be good for morale, but it appears like Harry, Hermione, and Ron are working on figuring something out. And I'm not sure if sharing information about their presence is a good thing or not."
"Let's share the information about Godric's Hollow but still keep the trek to Lovegood's place underwraps," Remus suggested. "If Potterwatch was heard by the wrong person and we were touting their escape from Lovegood's place, Luna might not stand much of a chance."
"Yes, that sounds like the right thing to do," McGonagall sighed as Lee jotted down their decision.
The meeting wrapped up after that. The new decoy-detonators meant that Crookshanks no longer had to serve as a means of escape, but the Order members still all left at once to preserve resources. Once they left, Jen took advantage of the quiet and laid her head down on her arms, her dinner plate pushed aside. She was just reaching that floaty moment before sleep when she felt Mrs. Weasley's hand on her back. "Do you want to spend the night here, dear?" the older woman asked.
Jen looked up at her and smiled with gratitude. "May I?"
"Of course," Molly said kindly. "You look like you haven't had a good night's sleep in ages." Molly sat down in the chair next to Jen's.
"I'm afraid to sleep when Snape's around. You-Know-Who doesn't care enough about me, but I'm afraid Snape's suspicions will get the better of him and he'll try to see if he can access my mind while I'm sleeping," Jen shrugged.
Molly looked at her sympathetically. "I thought you needed eye contact to access someone's mind."
"Sometimes," Jen answered. "But sometimes you just need to have established contact with the person before. I know Snape is good, Remus and McGonagall have told me that. But I don't know how good he is, how much he might really care to see what's going on in my mind."
"Well, you just stay here for as long as you think you can," Mrs. Weasley said. "I'm sure Ginny will love meeting you," she added as she pushed herself up from the kitchen chair.
"Oh, right. Ginny must be home for the holidays," Jen mumbled distractedly.
"Yes, I'd bring her down, but I'm sure she's already asleep by now."
"Fat chance," George murmured to Fred, just loud enough for Jen to hear. "She'll be waiting up for us to fill her in on what went on during the meeting," he continued in a whisper. "She'll be thrilled to meet you," George said quickly as his mother walked closer to the table to grab Jen's dinner plate.
"Yeah, even more so when she finds out you have news about Harry," Fred quipped as he took a biscuit from the tin his mother sat on the table.
"Fred," Molly chided but without much enthusiasm.
The twins shared a grin. Arthur looked up from the book he had been studying to chastise his sons for making light of Ginny's distress, but he seemed too tired and instead yawned.
"Arthur, let's go to bed. Jen, dear, I'll lay out some fresh linens for you on Charlie's bed." Jen smiled towards the older woman.
"I'm exhausted too. I'm going to go chat with Ginny now so she won't wake me up at four in the morning again like last time," George said as he stood and nodded goodnight to the pair.
Jen and Fred both watched George disappear up the stairs. Fred then turned to her and stared at her, eagerly taking her in. "How are you?"
She rested her elbows on the table and started methodically pinching the skin on her forehead as she closed her eyes. "I swear to god, I didn't know that I could be this tired," she started. "These people, they're shit, they're horrible. They torture any no-majes they come across just for fun. I don't understand how a human being like Bellatrix Lestrange can exist. She's disgusting. That doesn't even get started on what he is like," she hissed. "The things they brag about doing to people, it's all I can do to not vomit as they speak."
Fred raised his hand and started rubbing calming circles on her back as she spoke. He noticed that the silver ring that had been in her nose the last time he saw her had been replaced with a tiny twinkling green emerald.
"Is that a Christmas present?" Fred asked as he gently touched her nose. She jumped when his fingers brushed against her.
"No," Jen mumbled. "Well, maybe. It's from Narcissa. She claims she lost an earring and gave the remaining one to me to refashion. It's weird, I think she thinks we're friends," Jen thought aloud as she twisted the stud in her nose.
The two were quiet for a moment. The night was eerily silent, it would probably snow the next day. Jen resumed her defeated position and placed her head in her hands. Fred continued rubbing circles on her back.
"I just feel so fucking disgusting being around these people all the time, and—" she looked up, her eyes suddenly angry and bright, her hands clenched into fists as she pounded them against the table. "And I'm one of them," she said and started sobbing.
Taken aback, Fred felt himself stiffen and before he even noticed, he had physically leaned away from her, shocked by her emotional outburst. But in a moment, he had recovered. He dug in his pocket for his wand and quickly cast muffliato about them.
"Jen, you're not one of them," he told her. He extended his hands towards hers and grabbed her fists. He rubbed the pad of his thumb along the inside of her wrists, coaxing her hands to relax.
She looked up at him and let out a noise somewhere between a sob and laugh. "Yes, I am. It's even official now," she snorted derisively. She twisted her hands out of his grasp and violently wrenched the left sleeve of her robe up to her elbow showing the branded Dark Mark on her pale skin, the snake twisting menacingly out of the skull. "Look at this," she shoved her arm in front of him.
He gingerly took her left arm in his hand and pulled her arm towards him. As he stared at it, she started sobbing again.
"Please don't touch it," she begged as she tried to catch her breath.
Fred looked at her, a witty retort on his tongue, but he thought better of it. "I won't," he promised her. He held her wrist in his hand and studied the mark closely. Her skin was still pink around the edges of the black brand.
Jen took a deep breath as he traced his fingers closer towards the red irritation on her skin. "If I survive this war—"
"Jen—" Fred cut in gently.
"No, you listen to me, Weasley," she said. Her sobs had been replaced with a determined sort of anger. "If I survive this war, I expect you to get this fucking thing off my arm. I don't care what you have to do, if you have to burn me or cut the whole arm off, I want this gone."
"Jen, I—" Fred started defensively.
"No, just promise me," she ordered, her voice. "I don't want to have to show this to another human being. You're going to be the one to remove this garbage when all of this is over. You know what, even if I do die, if there's a body, make sure that no one we know ever sees this."
Fred dropped his hold on her. "You don't know what you're asking me," he said uncomfortably.
"Yes, I do. And I mean it," she stared at him searching his eyes.
"It means you're a good spy, them giving you this mark. It means you did what you were supposed to do," he told her gently. Jen refused to meet his gaze as she pulled the sleeve of her robe back down. "People would understand."
"Just promise me," she whispered, begging him.
He looked at her. She had wrapped her arms around herself and refused to look up at him. It was as if she was trying to hold herself together. "I promise," he said.
She exhaled and her body relaxed back into her chair. She reached for the mug in front of her, the tea having long since cooled. As she brought it to her lips, her hands shook and the liquid sloshed about. "Biscuit?" Fred offered, moving the tin towards her.
She looked at the cookie disdainfully. "Why do Brits put jam on everything?" He shrugged his response. "I think I need a goddamn cigarette," she laughed at herself.
Fred grinned at her. "We can't exactly go out front and light up. There's probably someone watching the house and who knows what they'd do to you if they found you with a blood traitor," he quipped. "But whatever they'd do, it's probably nothing compared to what my mum would do if you smoked a fag in her kitchen," Fred laughed.
Jen looked at him. Her hands were still shaky, but Fred could see the ghost of a laugh lighting up her blue eyes. "But I'm guessing you have a plan?"
"Of course I have a plan," Fred laughed. "You're talking to someone who has spent the majority of his two decades on the earth avoiding being detected by one Molly Weasley." He extended a hand to Jen as he stood. "I'd say you have a strong chance of getting what you desire tonight," he said.
Jen raised one eyebrow as she considered him, trying to puzzle out if he was coming onto her or just wanting to be genuinely helpful.
Her curious expression nearly stopped him in his tracks. For the merest second, she looked so much like the girl who had arrived with McGonagall on the Burrow's doorstep in early September. Ginny had only recently left for Hogwarts. To stop their mum's nagging, Fred and George had agreed to move back to the Burrow. He and George would alternate weekend shifts at Wheezes, so Fred had been up in the kitchen and dressed for work when McGonagall had rapped on their door and introduced Molly and Fred to Jen. Molly readily agreed to allow Jen to stay with them and by the time Fred had returned from work that evening, Jen and George had been loudly arguing about international Quidditch teams in the living room.
The next weekend, Jen had asked Fred to procure some polyjuice potion and some hair from a local muggle so that she could go into town and check out some books on psychology from the small public library in Ottery St. Catchpole. Fred had insisted on coming with her. He could try to convince himself that he was just being smart, protecting an asset of the Order and not allowing someone to travel alone. But if he did that, he would be lying. He found her attractive, and her bossy, know-it-all attitude was interesting. She never seemed to entertain the idea that she might be wrong, she never slowed down.
One thing quickly led to another. They were two twenty-year olds who were essentially trapped in a small house with very little to do in the way of entertainment. She had been washing up and had found their wireless and had tuned it to a muggle station the first night that he made a move. He had been leaning on the doorframe watching her dance and wash dishes when, without allowing himself to second guess, he walked into the room and spun her around and kissed her. She had eagerly reciprocated to such a point that they had found themselves atop the kitchen table, both their shirts having been tossed aside, lost in the moment. That is, until George wandered downstairs and had a few choice words about shagging on surfaces typically reserved for eating.
They sheepishly broke apart, but Jen had ordered him to meet her later and he had readily complied. Their first night together, after Fred had slipped into Charlie and Bill's old room, had been fun and carefree. Jen told him she was not interested in something serious, she just wanted something to do while she prepared to become a spy. Fred was happy to oblige and was glad that they were on the same page.
"What's with the robe?" Fred asked as he grabbed his coat from the hooks near the kitchen. He reached for one of Ginny's and passed it to Jen. It was quite short in the sleeves, but it would work.
"Oh right," Jen mumbled as she shrugged out of the robe and passed it to Fred who hung it on one of the pegs by the door. She instantly looked more like the girl he remembered in a faded grey jumper, black jeans, and combat boots. "You-Know-Who isn't a huge fan of individual expression."
"Hm," Fred mused aloud. "I'd say red eyes tend to set one apart from the crowd." He reached for Jen's hand and pulled her to the stairs.
Jen gave a gentle laugh. "You know, it's weird, for some reason, he seems to think that the rules don't apply to him."
"Hm, yes, how odd," Fred said sarcastically as he smiled. "Here we are," he pushed through the door into his eldest brothers' room. "Alohomora," he whispered as he pointed his wand at Charlie's nightstand drawer. "When you meet my brother, don't mention this to him." Fred expertly reached his hand into the drawer and produced a package of fags from the back. He handed them to Jen.
"Were these in there all fall?"
"Yup," Fred told her.
"Then why did we keep taking polyjuice potion so we could go into town?"
Fred cocked an eyebrow as he looked at her. "You seemed to enjoy the post-errand roleplay."
The slightest blush crept up her cheeks. "Oh, right."
"Remember that one time when your muggle had those huge—"
"Yes, I do," Jen said, suddenly turning bright pink. Then she bent over in a fit of giggles.
"Yeah, we were really bored," Fred said wistfully.
"Who would have thought those would be the good old days," Jen mused aloud.
"Okay, now we go up to Ron's room," Fred stated as he pulled her by the hand out of the small bedroom. They crept up the stairs to the top floor of the house. "Pinch your nose," Fred ordered as he twisted open the doorknob to Ron's room. He pointed his wand at a lamp, and a soft warm glow filled the room. The transfigured ghoul whose purpose Fred had explained to Jen slept on the bed. "Here," Fred said as he opened the window and knelt down. He laced his fingers together so she could boost herself up to the window ledge. She scrambled through and found herself precariously balanced on an a-frame roof. She got down to her hands and knees and crawled until she could support herself against the chimney. Fred scrambled out after her from the window.
"Does this work?" Fred asked as he sat on the point of the roof, patting the spot next to him.
"No! I'm afraid of heights," Jen said as she dug her nails into his arm.
"Really?" Fred asked, the disappointment on his face barely visible in the weak light from Ron's bedroom window.
"No," Jen laughed.
"Fuck, you're a good actress," Fred laughed as he shifted himself so he was more comfortably settled on the roof. She scooted closer to him and pulled the collar of Ginny's coat closer around her neck.
"We can't be seen up here?" she asked.
"I don't think so," Fred said.
"Well, I guess we'll find out," she said as she started banging the box of cigarettes against the heel of her palm, packing down the tobacco. She opened the box and slid one out. Fred lifted his wand and ignited the bottom of the cigarette. He pretended that he did not see that her hands were still trembling slightly. She inhaled and took a deep breath, then coughed the smoke out of her lungs.
They sat silently for a moment, waiting for Death Eaters to descend upon them or for the ghoul to start moaning or for his mum to come out and start yelling at them. When nothing happened, they both started to laugh.
"That's a million times better," Jen said as she lifted the cigarette back up to her lips. "I've always said that no-majes get drugs and alcohol right," she said as she slid her bottom down the edge of the roof until her head was pressed against the point of the a-frame. Fred watched her with a satisfied smile.
She took one more drag and then raised her arm straight up in the air until the cigarette was level with Fred's face. He took it from her and took his own tentative drag. Once the smoke entered his lungs, he erupted in a coughing fit. He quickly gave it back to Jen who took it with a laugh.
"All this time hanging out with me, and you still can't manage to inhale without nearly dying," she laughed.
"At least I can hold my liquor," he chided with a laugh.
"One time I've vomited, and you'll never let me forget it," Jen said as she took another drag.
"I don't think you would have stopped if I hadn't given you a Puking Pastille," Fred mused.
"Yeah, yeah," Jen mumbled.
A comfortable silence fell between them as they both thought back to nights spent alone, nights spent laughing, nights before her life changed.
"I was wrong," Jen said as she stubbed her cigarette on the roof tile and then flicked the cigarette away from the house.
"Yes, you are about a lot of things," Fred teased, but Jen did not return his laugh.
"No, I was wrong before. This is changing me, having to pretend to be like them. I. . . I don't think I like the person this is turning me into," she said after a moment.
"It's only temporary," Fred said dismissively.
"I don't think it is," Jen muttered.
Fred slid down, angling his body so his position mimicked hers and so their faces were level. "Look at me," he commanded. She turned her head to look at him, letting out a shaky breath. "We all have parts of ourselves that we don't like very much right now. It's a goddamn war, doing things that chip away at your sense of self, that's just what has to happen."
Jen's eyes narrowed. "And what have you done that makes you feel that way?"
Fred could feel his ears redden. "Erm, nothing," he mumbled. "That's why I feel like such a fucking coward." She blinked at him, but she did not say anything. He took a steadying breath and continued. "My baby brother is out there risking his life, my little sister is running a rebellion at school, and I look at you, and here you are, risking your ass on a daily basis, and what am I doing? Inventing a bunch of rubbish that might help someone in the Order be able to get out of a tight spot. I do some jabbering on Lee's radio show to share some information that someone else wrote down for me. That's a whole lot of fucking nothing to contribute to the effort."
Jen let out a huff of breath which Fred immediately interpreted as a laugh. He turned to her and glared, his ego visibly wounded. "You have no idea the value of positivity and a laugh, do you?" she said gently as she took in his angry face.
She gestured around them with her hands. "I was about two minutes away from a breakdown when I got here. I honestly didn't know if I'd be able to go back to that hellhole and pretend to be one of them. Then, here you are, you bring me up here, you make me laugh. It's like I'm alive again, like I can go back out there and make it through another two weeks. It is not easy what you do, to remind people who they are and give them the strength to make it to the next day."
Fred's blush deepend and he could not think of a single thing to say.
"Oh fuck it," she mumbled. She tossed her leg over him and straddled him, holding onto his shoulders to keep her balance.
He froze and looked up at her. They had decided; it was not safe for her to have distractions like this.
"Jen, you said—" he started, hardly believing that he was going to be the one to tell her to stop as every cell of his body disagreed with what he was about to do.
"Fuck what I said. You're a bit too good at what you do. You make me want to be around you, be with you, because when I am, I feel like me again," she said. She leaned down, holding his head in between her hands, she pressed her lips against his.
He returned the kiss enthusiastically.