So, sorry I've been gone for so long, I know you all probably hate me. I've been very busy this past month, and I had, average, 3 therapy sessions a week. (OCD can be a bitch.) But on a lighter note, I was so happy to see the response I got from the first chapters so keep it up! I'm trying to give this story some space, I want it to be my best work, and I believe in quality over quantity :) Reviews cure my writer's block!
I woke up from the noise. The twins confused and muffled shouts penetrated my sleep, and I opened my eyes groggily. Sighing, I rolled over, trying to dislodge myself from the tangle of bed sheets, when a sharp and searing pain shot up my spine.
"Ow!" I yelped, shocked.
What the hell? I craned my neck to look at my shoulder. I screamed at what I found. A small, flesh colored triangle, no bigger than a bottle cap, was imprinted on the back of my shoulder blade. It looked a bit like a scar, but it was much too straight and aligned to be from a wound.
Fred and George came streaming in to the room, wearing nothing but boxer shorts, nearly tripping over themselves.
"What did you two do?" I shrieked, hurling myself from the bed. The second my feet touched the ground, another wave of pain shot over me, and I stumbled right into Fred.
"Ouch!" They both howled in unison.
"Fix it!" I muttered through clenched teeth.
"Us?" Fred questioned.
"We didn't do anything!" George defended.
"Hey, she's got one too!" Fred's hand had brushed over the obscure marking, making me flinch in his arms.
"Sorry," He muttered.
"Wait, what do you mean 'too'? Have you guys got one of these…things?" I pointed to my shoulder.
They both turned around I could see the identical triangular blemishes on their shoulder.
"What do you suppose it is?" I asked, looking at them worriedly.
"I don't know, but we'd better ask Mum." George answered. Fred and I agreed and we rushed to change and quickly floo over to the Burrow.
I don't know if you've ever had to change and step into a fireplace with a throbbing, burning, unknown marking on your back, but it's not very fun. In fact, it's miserable.
Still ow-ing and ouch-ing, the three of us tumbled into the living room, knocking over a lamp in the process.
"My word, what is that racket?" Mrs. Weasley came bustling in from the kitchen, a dishrag in her hands. She spotted us, a heap on the ground, and smiled.
"Why didn't you three tell me you were dropping by?"
"Weren't planning to, mum." George answered, standing and help me to my feet.
"We have a, uh…problem." Fred finished, brushing soot of his sleeve.
"Mrs. Weasley, do you think you could help us with something?" I asked, stepping forward.
"Of course dear, what do you need?" She looked slightly worried.
"Well, um…we kind of have this…thing, sort of like a scar, but not really." I tried explaining it to her.
"Mum, do you know what this is?" Fred lifted his shirt to show the marking. Mrs. Weasley's reaction was immediate. Her face went from motherly aid to horribly upset.
"Mum, what is it? What's the matter?" George asked, stepping in front of me protectively. As soon as Mrs. Weasley saw this, she burst into sobs.
"Molly? What's going on? Is that Fred and George?" Mr. Weasley came into the room, and ran to Mrs. Weasley's side.
"What happened?" He asked the twins, trying to comfort Mrs. Weasley.
"We're not sure, we woke up this morning with this marking on all of our shoulders, we asked her about it but…" Fred trailed off, looking worriedly at his mother. I started to get panicky. What was this thing? Why was Mrs. Weasley crying? Why would no one tell us what was happening? Almost instantly, Fred put his arm over my shoulder, giving me a one-armed hug.
"What marking?" Mr. Weasley asked. Again, Fred lifted his shirt to show his father the triangle. Mr. Weasley went white as a ghost.
"You've all got that marking, have you?" He asked. We all nodded.
I couldn't help it; tears had sprung to my eyes. Were we in danger? What did this marking mean? More importantly, would it hurt Fred and George?
"Stay here, I'll be right back." Mr. Weasley led his wife up the stairs.
I looked questioningly at the twins, asking for their thoughts.
"Don't cry, Annabelle." George whispered.
"It'll be fine. Mum overreacts to everything." Fred added, squeezing me again.
We sat in a huddled silence until Mr. Weasley came back down the stairs.
"Sit down, you three." He gestured to the couch, we all sat hurriedly. Mr. Weasley sat down slowly, looking dejected, a pitying look in his eyes.
"Dad, what's going on?" Fred asked.
"I suppose if this were to happen to anyone, it would be you three." Mr. Weasley looked us all in the eye before continuing.
"That's powerful magic you've got there." He said.
"What, the mark?" I asked. He nodded.
"It's a bond."
I could picture our confused faces.
"Those marks? They're a showing of just how deep the bond between you three is."
"Bond?" George asked, eyebrows raised.
Mr. Weasley sighed meaningfully. "When a group of wizards or witches get particularly close, their magic can…latch on to one another. That mark appears when the wizards and witches magic can no longer stand to be apart, and they join. I think you've all had this bond for a while now, but now its finally official."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley, I'm still not quite understanding." I spoke.
"Annabelle, you love Fred and George?" He asked.
"Of course." I answered.
"And Fred, George, you love Annabelle?"
"Absolutely." They said in unison.
"And it's that love combined with your inseparable magic that creates this bond. You have to understand that a wizard or witches magic is a very powerful thing, on its own. But put magic that's already formed such a connection with love for another person that's so strong, and it combines the two in such a way that joins the wizard and witch for life."
I sat dumbstruck. It finally made sense. I recalled a fuzzy memory; Professor Lupin telling us about wizarding bonds. Explaining the strongest of them formed within a trio. What was it called again?
"Triumvirate Bonds!" I exclaimed, the name coming back to me.
"Yes, that's the one." Mr. Weasley nodded.
"Triumvirate?" Fred asked.
"Do you remember when we were learning about Wizarding bonds from Lupin?"
"Wizarding bonds…oh yeah!" George added.
Mr. Weasley cleared his throat.
"Sorry, so, what exactly does this mean?" I turned toward him.
"And why was mum crying?" Fred continued.
"Well, Triumvirate Bonds can be very dangerous." He answered. I felt myself, along with Fred and George, go tense.
"With a Triumvirate Bond, you are much closer to the other wizards or witches than that in any other bond. You're connected, once again, not only by magic, but also by love, by souls. So, you are in tune with that person's emotion, their feelings, and their pain. …In turn, if one person in the triad were to perish, its safe to assume the others would as well." Mr. Weasleys voice trailed away.
This was too much to handle. Even thinking about Fred or George dying made me sick to my stomach, but now I know that even if they physically aren't in danger, my life still held the possibility that they could be. It isn't really my own any more. And by the protective, worried looks on Fred and George's faces, I could tell they were feeling the same way.
"Annabelle?" Mr. Weasley looked at me, concerned. It wasn't until George wiped away a stray tear from my cheek that I realized I had been crying.
"Don't cry, sweetie." Fred enveloped me in his arms, holding me close.
"Boys, there's still one other thing I should tell you." Mr. Weasley said softly. We all snapped our attention back to him.
"At the moment, Annabelle is still in harms way."
"Why?"
"How?" They both asked, their faces hard.
"Because she is the only witch, and out numbered by you both, she is at more of a risk. This is why Triumvirate Bonds are not looked upon lightly. You two are brothers, twins, and both wizards, already more united than she, and because of that, your joined magic is a risk to her.
"At a moment of anger, joy, sadness, any moment that might overcome your senses, your magic poses a threat to her. It could overwhelm her own magic, part of the magic that connects you three, and break the bond, but the effects would alter you all. It could strip you of magic completely, and if that doesn't happen, it could certainly kill Annabelle." Mr. Weasley finished, leaving me shell-shocked, and Fred and George angry.
"How to do fix it? George demanded.
"What can we do?" Fred pleaded.
"In order to full connect her to the way you two are, you need to be exposed to one another in the most intuitive way possible." Mr. Weasley spoke softly.
They boys got it before I did. "Dad, are you serious?" Fred asked, his expression unreadable.
"That's the only way?" George intervened.
"You two, of course, don't have to, but with Annabelle, it must be done to put her, and all three of you, out of danger." Mr. Weasley explained. "I have to go see to your mother now, come back in a few days, alright?" He walked up the stairs and receded from view.
"You guys?" I asked in a small voice, "What did he mean 'exposed'?
"We'll tell you later," Fred stood up, pulling me by the hand.
"At home." George finished. In a daze, they quickly flooed us back to our flat.