Fred didn’t remember running to the Gryffindor common room. He didn’t remember grabbing a handful of shimmering silver powder from the jar hidden behind the portrait hole. All he knew was the suffocating panic clawing at his throat, a terrifying weight that made it impossible to breathe.Leukemia.The foreign, ugly word echoed in his mind over and over. Magic couldn’t fix it. St. Mungo’s couldn’t fix it. But Cedric had said it was a Muggle sickness. And if there was anyone in the wizarding world who understood the strange, complicated ways of the Muggle world, it was Arthur Weasley.Fred dropped to his knees in front of the common room fireplace, tossing the Floo powder into the roaring flames. The fire instantly turned a brilliant, crackling emerald green."The Burrow! Kitchen!" Fred shouted, thrusting his head directly into the emerald fire.The world spun in a dizzying whirl of soot and heat until the familiar, cozy kitchen of the Burrow materialized before his eyes. It was late, and the house was quiet, save for the rhythmic ticking of the family clock. Sitting at the wooden table under the warm light of a single lamp was Arthur Weasley, wearing a pair of Muggle reading glasses and meticulously polishing a strange metal toaster with a rag."Dad!" Fred choked out, his voice cracking violently.Arthur jumped, nearly dropping the toaster. He hurried over to the hearth, dropping to his knees. His expression shifted instantly from startled amusement to deep, paternal alarm when he saw the sheer terror painted across his son's face."Fred? Brilliant heavens, son, what’s wrong?" Arthur asked, leaning down. "Are you hurt? Is George—""No, no, George is fine," Fred gasped, his eyes wide and wild. He choked back a sob, his throat tightening. "Dad, I need your help. I need you to tell me what to do. You know about Muggle things. You study them."Arthur frowned gently, reaching out a hand as if he could soothe Fred through the flames. "Fredi, slow down. What Muggle things do you need to know about?""Leukemia," Fred whispered, the word physically hurting to say. "Dad... what is leukemia?"Arthur froze. The gentle, curious light in his eyes instantly vanished, replaced by a sudden, heavy somberness. His posture slumped. He didn't ask how Fred knew the word, or who it was about. The sheer gravity of the question told him everything."Oh, Fredi..." Arthur murmured softly, his voice filled with a deep, aching sympathy. "Where did you hear that word?""It's Cedric," Fred confessed, a hot tear spilling over his eyelashes and sizzling against the hot ash of the fireplace. "Cedric Diggory. He’s sick, Dad. He told me tonight. He said his blood is attacking itself, and the St. Mungo's healers can't stop it because it's a Muggle disease. He said he's... he's going to die by the summer." Fred’s voice broke into a desperate plea. "But Muggles fix things, right? They built airplanes and electricity! There has to be a Muggle cure. Doctors have a potion, or a spell, or a surgery? You have to know, Dad. Please tell me there's something we can buy from them!"Arthur looked down at his own hands, his face lined with absolute sorrow. He took off his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes. When he looked back at Fred, there was no magical solution in his gaze. Only the raw, painful truth."Fred, listen to me very carefully," Arthur said softly, his voice trembling slightly. "Muggle medicine is a beautiful, miraculous thing. They do things without magic that would make most wizards weep with awe. They have treatments for this. They call it... chemotherapy. They use powerful medicines to try and kill the sickness in the blood."A spark of desperate hope flared in Fred’s chest. "Then we get that! Amos Diggory has tons of gold, he can buy whatever the Muggles use—""Fred, stop. Let me finish," Arthur interrupted gently, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Muggle treatments aren't a simple cure. They take months, sometimes years. They make the body incredibly weak, and even with the best Muggle doctors in the world... it doesn't always work. If Cedric’s healers have alread”
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