The Bucket of Life

The days went on, despite the few disturbances here and there. The said disturbances unfortunately takes form of a mangy cat, adorned with an eternal scowling face. And the said cat is struggling in his arms, trying to get a hold of poor, sick Scabbers.

"'Mione! Hermione!"

Ronald irritatedly made his way to the Gryffindor common room, grumpy that his sleep was disturbed. A short fever in the middle of the night has left him light-headed, with an urge to vomit out all of his organs. A cat interrupting his rest, planning to eat his pet rat is right at the top of his priority list right now.

"What is it?" The bushy-haired girl scowled back, looking up from her enormous book. Ron knows better than to question where she even got that impossibly enormous book.

"Could you please take your creepy little cat away from Scabbers? Look, he's shaking!" He said, shoving the rat into her face, a decision he quickly regretted as Croookshanks tried to claw it. "See?!"

"Oh please." She said in a high-pitched tone, clearly annoyed. "Crookshanks is a cat. It's in their nature to chase a rat such as Scabbers!"

She turned to her pet, cuddling it. "Besides, Crookshanks is smart. Aren't you, darling?"

It took Ron's all willpower not to explode right then and there. He knows that once he opens his mouth, he'll say something he will really regret.

"I know that...!" He let out a sigh, hoping to control himself. The persistent headache is still there. "I'm just asking you to keep him from Scabbers. Merlin, we were in the boys' dorm earlier. And Crookshanks still managed to get in!"

"Fine. I'll take care of Crookshanks." Hermione said, apology in her voice.

"Thank you." He said, voice tired. He took Scabbers and went back to bed. He ought to catch up some sleep. The popping up and out fever is draining him, and it's really starting to show. Perhaps that's why Hermione let go of the argument earlier. There was a suspicious glint of concern in her eyes. And Ron doesn't want it. He doesn't want anyone to pity him.

He felt his bones creaking as he dropped his self on the bed. The familiar hot sensation enveloped his whole being, burning his insides.

"Ron?"

Damn it.

Neville hesitatingly got closer. Ron is acting weird, he thinks. It's been going on for a while now, but the redhead seemed more out of it than ever. There was a slight shiver in his whole body, not quite obvious if you're not paying attention.

"Yes, Nev?" Ronald managed to get up and faced Neville, schooling his face with a smirk.

"Are you- are you alright? You don't seem well." The kind boy hadn't even tried hiding his concern. He's holding a small plant in a tiny teapot, likely to adorn his bedside window. "D'you want a quick look at Madam Pomfrey's? I reckon she won't be too busy to-"

"I'm fine, mate." He heaved a sigh, no point pretending he's all well. "Just caught something nasty. I just finished a pepper-up, see?" He held out a vial of the potion he finished last night.

"I- really?"

"Truly."

He gave Neville a smile. He's a great bloke. A bit clumsy in some areas, but a great bloke nonetheless.

"If you're sure." It's a good thing Neville decided to press down any further. He feels worse in every passing minute and he'd give up all of his possessions to lay down right now. "I'll let you have your rest. Just call me if you need anything, yes?"

"Yes, mate. Thanks."

He closed his eyes and let the darkness take over him, ignoring the burning inferno and aching bones inside.

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Only the sound of a quill scratching the parchment filled the air. The warm glow of a lion-shaped candle, too bright and well-lit to be normal, illuminated the desk. Multiple massive tomes filled the table, some are stacked upon each other.

Knock. Knock.

The sound of knocking gently startled Percy Weasly from his study-crazed stupor. His curly hair dripped just before his horn-rimmed glasses, and posture straight as ever.

Knock. Knock.

He got up and made a beeline towards the door, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His roommate Oliver was out, no doubt killing himself with quidditch drills they are yet to use in the next weeks, alongside his whole team. If he manages to kill himself before the team does, that is. So he is perplexed as he made sure no one is to disturb him, else he, Merlin forbid, fails his NEWTS.

The sight of Ronald attempting to knock again greeted him as he swung his door open. His little brother hugs a tray with two steaming mugs of liquid, cocoa if he's to guess, into his right hand. His left his raised in the air, trying to smack the door.

"Err, hi?" The younger ginger let out a sheepish smile.

"Ronald?" He said, stepping aside to give way to their dorm. "What are you doing here?"

The saddened look at his brother immediately made him flinch. "Oh no, that's not what I meant. I mean-"

Ronald, the little shit, burst into laughter, "Oh Perce-!" He was holding his stomach with his left hand, while still hugging the tray. Percival grumbled under his breath. He led his brother into his bed, setting the tray on the side table.

"So?" Percy said, adjusting his eyeglasses.

"I brought you hot chocolate." Ron pushed the mugs slowly, which Percy accepted.

"Thank you, but why?" Sipping the sweet and smooth and warm indulgence, Percy felt all the stress from studying dissipate.

"Why? Can't I just check on my favorite big brother now?" Ronald said, also sipping his own cocoa.

Percy just raised an eyebrow and looked at him.

"Okay, fine. I wanna ask about something, but let's talk about that later." His little brother put aside his drink and laid on the bed, arms wide open.

"How's NEWTS?"

"Really, Ronald. Really?" He asked in exasperation, leaning on a post of his bed. "Well, it's hard. It was expected, of course, but I'm still a bit frustrated about it."

Ron let out a snicker. "Obviously."

"Hey, don't judge. I'll laugh at you when you have your OWLS."

"Yeah, but you won't be here by then."

"I don't care, I'll still laugh at you."

"Prat."

"Brat."

There is a comfortable atmosphere between them as they caught up with each other's lives. They talked about various topics. His exams, the meals served in the great hall, Ron's newest goal of being undefeated in chess (the little imp is going to blow his head off, with all those ego), their friends, and other random things ("Percy?"
"Hmn?"
"Do you think the fruit was named orange after the color or was the color named oranged because of the fruit?"
"Oh my god, Ron-"
"What? It was a perfectly sane question.").

Percy missed this. Him. Ron. Talking about things. They used to do it a lot, when they were younger. When the loudness and the cheerful chaos of the family sometimes suffocated them. He would stay in the living room at the Burrow, watching the fireplace. Ron would soon snuggle up to him, startled by an attack and unable to sleep. It was natural for him because he's sort of too introverted in their outgoing family and Ron-

Percy nearly snapped his head off as he looked into Ron, scrutinizing. He nearly cursed when he saw him with a slight tremor in his hands, freckles standing out in the too-pale face. There is a hitch in his breath, almost like struggling to get air.

"Since when?" He said, taking his little brother's hand. Said brother flinched, but didn't move. Instead, he looked away.

"What 'since when'?" Ron mumbled, almost sulking.

"Do not lie to me, Ronald. Since when did the symptoms come back?" He said, his voice shaking.

" They're not 'back', you see-"

" -Ronald-"

"No, no. Listen to me." The younger Weasley sat up, looking at his eyes. "It's not really back. I just happened to have some headaches, is all."

"And why didn't you tell us? Me? Merlin, Ron. You know your condition. You can't just decide what to tell us and not!" He whispered-screamed.

" Because I knew you'd act out like this! And you were busy, with all the exams and everything and-"

" Ronald Weasley! Do you really think I'll put this bloody test before you? I-"

" -and you know it will come back!"

They both stopped at that line. He was rattled, because they were already done about it.

"You know it will eventually come back, Perce. It's already a part of me. Something we can't change." Ron let out a sigh. "And it's really nothing. It's just headaches."

Percy stared at his little, baby brother. He thought it was done after all those years ago. Ron never experienced anything after the last time. The mere thought of Ron, his Ronnie going through that again breaks his heart.

And he's afraid. He fears what the illness will bring his brother. The last time, the whole family thought they would lose them. Percy doesn't want to experience that again. Not again.

"Hey," Ron pulled him in a hug, snuggling just as he did when he was smaller. "It's okay. We'll get through this. We already did before, remember? Perce?"

A nervous huff broke out of him. What was he doing? He's supposed to be the one comforting Ron, for Merlin's sake!

"Yes. Yes, I suppose we did." He cleared his throat. It was surprisingly clogged, but he ignored it. "We'll find a cure. Maybe at that time, Bill would've found a way to break the curse. And you'll recover. For real."

Ronald seemed like he wanted to say something, but did not do so.

"So," he says, breaking out of the hug and held the now-cold chocolate drink. "What really brings you here?"

"Ugh, don't remind me." The younger ginger rolled over the bed. "Crookshanks really has it out for Scabbers. I mean really! Little gremlin seems like it could smell poor Scabbers from a mile away. Hermione's keeping it close, scolding the mangy cat, but still!"

Ronald looks funny, his face is all red, as opposed to his former complexion. It looks like the cat is slowly becoming the bane of his existence.

"D'you have any tips? I don't really know what to do."

"Well, you could give the old rat a dust bath. That could change his smell a little. I'll try to find something else in the library."

"Thanks, Perce." He got up, getting the empty mugs.

"Want to spend the night here?"

"Nah, I'm good. The guys are busy, so I'll probably be undisturbed." And the bed is charmed to keep the noise out. And to prevent a sound going out.

It was an unspoken fact that both brothers knew.

"Rest well, alright?"

"Yes, Mum." The little shit cheekily said. "G'night."

"Goodnight."

And then, he was gone. Percy leaned his head in the post of his bed. Closing his eyes, he steeled his resolve to talk to his other siblings about Ron. They need to know, too. And Harry and Hermione by extension.

He opened his eyes and got up, going back to his table.

'Dearest Bill,'

This is going to be a long night.

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