~ Chapter 21 ~

Epidemic

He'd felt like crap since lunch. His stomach flipped and he held his breath, waiting for the nausea to pass. He was sitting in the library, looking over their Potions notes along with the many other students that were preparing for the quiz Slughorn had scheduled for the following Thursday.

He ran his hands through his hair, wiping the sweat from his forehead in the process. He sat for a moment, with his hands on his head, and grimaced as another wave of nausea hit him.

He looked over at Hermione, who was chewing at her thumbnail and frowning as she scanned her notes. She flipped back a few pages and scribbled something onto a piece of parchment.

They'd been in the library for over an hour now and he hadn't been able to study anything. He glanced at his own textbook and watched as the words swam across the pages. He had to look away or he was going to vomit.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked. She had felt him staring at her and had looked up to find out what he was doing. She could immediately tell there was something wrong. His face was pale and his hairline was beaded with sweat.

"Fine," he lied, softly.

"You look dreadful," Hermione stated. She closed her textbook and placed her hand on his forehead. "You're burning up!"

"I'm fine, really," he mumbled. He looked back at his textbook and struggled to get the words to stay still long enough to read them.

"You need to see Madame Pomfrey," Hermione demanded.

"You're really not looking good, Harry," Ron added. "Come on. Let's go up to the hospital wing."

Harry sighed and quickly collected his things before following Hermione and Ron upstairs.

---

The volume within the Great Hall was a great deal quieter than normal with over half the student population bed-ridden. A stomach flu was going around and more and more students were beginning to drop as the day went on. Ron and Dean were the only Gryffindor boys in their year that had managed to avoid contracting the virus.

Ron was finding it somewhat awkward to be sitting with Dean and Ginny. Ginny and Dean's relationship had always been somewhat tense. Ron had walked in on them arguing a few times, which was incredibly awkward. At the moment, the two of them seemed to be getting along well, but it never took much to set them off.

Dumbledore stood up at the head table and tapped the side of his glass with his spoon, calling the attention of the remaining students to the front.

"As you all may have noticed, a large number of students has fallen ill due to this flu epidemic. After much discussion with the staff, we have decided to cancel classes until the student population has increased enough to continue with our lessons," Dumbledore explained. "I know this is very much a disappointment to you all and I apologize for the inconvenience. However, the staff has agreed to hold tutoring sessions for those that need the additional help with their studies."

"Wicked!" Ron exclaimed happily.

"You're going to have to go to the tutoring sessions, Ron," said Hermione as she rolled her eyes. "This will give you a chance to catch up to the rest of the class."

Ron's face fell; no longer feeling the excitement of getting a few days off. At least there wouldn't be any new assignments.

"Speaking of which," Hermione continued. "Seeing as classes have been cancelled, why don't we go to the Room of Requirement and I can help you practice the D.A.D.A spells you missed."

Ron sighed and finished drinking his orange juice before getting up and following Hermione out of the Great Hall.

Dean smirked and chuckled softly as he watched as Ron reluctantly left the room. Ginny glared at him and jabbed her fork into the bacon on her plate.

---

Ron slipped into his pajamas and sat on the edge of his bed. He smirked over at Harry, who was hanging over the side of his bed clinging to a bucket.

"How are you feeling, Harry?" Ron chuckled.

"Never better," Harry groaned sarcastically into the bucket.

"You missed a great dinner," Ron explained. "Sirloin and garlic potatoes and…"

"Ron, please," Harry begged. "Do not talk about food."

They were interrupted by a loud retching across the room. Seamus was leaning over the side of his bed and dry heaving into his own bucket.

"Way to go, Ron," Dean laughed. "Now you've gone and set them off." He looked over at Neville who had gone slightly green and looked about ready to vomit as well.

"You two are getting no sympathy from me when you get this," Seamus snapped, his voice hoarse.

"Not going to happen," Dean said with a smirk. "I haven't been sick in ages."

"Your time has come," Seamus chuckled as he tossed his pillow at Dean's head.

"Aw, sick!" Dean laughed, tossing the pillow back to Seamus.

Ron smirked and slid into his bed. He pulled the covers tightly to his chin and a sighed deeply before closing his eyes.

Dean crawled into his own bed and fluffed the pillows beneath his head. He waved his wand and softly muttered a spell, dousing the light in the dorm for the night.

---

He was hit in the chest with a curse and sent flying across the room. He forced himself onto his hands and knees and gritted his teeth before looking up at Voldemort.

"Well, look who's still alive," Voldemort hissed angrily. "How did you manage to get out of the Shrieking Shack? You were very nearly dead when I saw you last."

Ron pulled himself to his feet and held onto the wall for support before attempting to pull his wand from his back pocket. Voldemort immediately sent Ron's wand flying with a flick of his wrist. He sent another curse flying in Ron's direction and sent crippling waves of pain rushing through Ron's body. Ron screamed and collapsed back on the floor.

As Voldemort released the curse, Ron rolled over so he was looking up at the ceiling. He took a few breaths before attempting to push himself back up. Voldemort pushed down on Ron's chest with his foot and pointed his wand down at Ron's face. Ron grabbed at Voldemort's ankle and attempted to relieve some of the pressure on his chest, making it difficult to catch his breath.

"I don't know who I'm going to enjoy killing more," Voldemort sneered. "You or Potter. Avada Kedavra!"

"No!" Ron screamed. He tried to sit up, but someone's hand was pushing against his chest.

"Ron, wake up!" It was Harry's voice. He opened his eyes to find Harry and Dean looking down at him; they looked worried.

Harry pulled his hand away from Ron's chest and sat back.

"That must have been quite the nightmare, mate," Dean whispered. "You all right?"

Ron nodded and sat up. His entire body was trembling and his pajama shirt was soaked through with sweat. He took in his surroundings, trying to remember where he was and how he'd gotten there. Four pairs of eyes stared at him worriedly.

"I'm fine," Ron replied, shakily. "It was just a dream. I'm fine, really."

"Ron, you're soaked," said Harry. He put his hand to Ron's forehead and frowned. "Maybe you should take some of the potion Madame Pomfrey gave us. I think you may have come down with this bloody flu."

Ron shook his head and slipped his legs over the side of the bed. He stood up and gripped Harry's shoulder as he waited for the room to stop spinning.

"It's all right," Ron mumbled. "I'm just going to go to the loo. I'll be fine. Go back to bed."

Harry nodded and moved back to his own bed. He watched as Ron stumbled through the dorm and toward the washrooms. Dean shrugged as Harry caught his eye. He got back into his own bed and pulled the blankets back over his shoulder, leaving the lights on for Ron.

"You're next, Thomas," Harry warned humorously.

"Like I said before, Potter," Dean snickered. "Not going to happen."

Ron splashed cold water over his face and breathed heavily. He'd puked up all of the dinner he'd bragged about to Harry as soon as he'd gotten to washroom. He grabbed one of the towels hanging near the sink and dried his face before looking at his reflection in the mirror. He had no colour in his face and his eyes were red and watery. He frowned and looked more closely into his own eyes. They clouded over temporarily, causing his vision to blur, then cleared once again.

He could feel his heart skip within his chest. He squeezed his eyes closed and looked at his reflection again. His bright blue eyes remained clear, apart from being slightly bloodshot. He breathed a sigh of relief and set the towel aside before making his way back to bed.