82. the Jones house

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"Look, it's either we go and we do it right, or Moody sends someone else and they destroy the place." George explained for what felt like the millionth time as Fred paced their kitchen anxiously.
They were still waiting for Moody's go-ahead to inspect Juniper's house, and Fred had grown more and more restless as the days passed with no communication. From the moment Moody handed him the photos, George had sensed his discomfort and offered over and over again to go alone.

"I told you, I'm fine with going." Fred repeated, stopping suddenly. He looked to his brother, so relaxed and carefree on their couch, throwing a ball in the air.

"Then why have you polished all the cutlery and reorganised all the cupboards?" George shot back. Fred had a bad case of stress cleaning, and had become insatiable during the day, constantly scrubbing or dusting. "You have nothing to worry about. It's not like you're going to run into her grandmother and have to make a good impression."

"Not funny." Fred muttered, inspecting a glass vase for fingerprints. "I just don't want to get there and the whole place is burned to the ground."

"Moody would know if it was burned to the ground." George reassured him. "And I don't think Moody hates us that much to waste our time like that."

"It's her home, her entire childhood is in that house. If the inside is destroyed, she'd be ruined."

"She's not clueless, she knows Deatheaters would've at least tried to get in." George started, trying to stop Fred from derailing. "She hasn't been there in, like, two years. She probably doesn't even think the house is still there. And honestly, with how often you two shag, she's probably forgotten about the house entirely."

"Don't say 'shag'." Fred cringed to himself, still trying to clean the vase. "We prefer 'consummating the relationship'. Like the adults we are."

"That's worse than 'shagging'." George grimaced, regretting his decision to bring it up at all. "Why are you so nervous to go then?"

"I'm not." Fred lied, scrubbing the vase harder, making George less likely to believe him. "I'm completely fine with going... and coming back."

"What?" George's face dropped, finally sitting up. Fred couldn't meet his eyes, keeping them down on the vase sheepishly. "What aren't you telling me?"

"She doesn't know we joined the Order." Fred said quietly, glancing quickly at George who had smacked his hand against his forehead. "And if I tell her we went to her house, she'd find out."

"Well... you should tell her, it'd make snooping around her house a bit less weird." George tried. "Plus, what's wrong with her finding out?"

"She... didn't want me to." Another forehead slap from George, Fred panicked to defend himself. "Well, she didn't explicitly say that she didn't want me to. Whenever someone mentions it she goes quiet and doesn't talk for a while, which doesn't seem like a sign of someone wanting that."

"She's going to find out eventually, you can't exactly hide it from her." George added, watching as a black barn owl landed on their windowsill beside the fireplace.  He went over to grab the letter it had brought them, sensing that Fred was too in his head to even notice the rapid tapping on the glass. "We can just say that I joined and you didn't."

"She's not going to believe that, she knows that if you did, then I would too." Fred chewed on his lip, finally placing the spotless vase back down. "Maybe I can say we were forced to join, like Moody threatened us. Or! We were under the Imperius curse. "

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