How Do "You" Like It?

a/n: Sorry to leave this sit with nothing for so long. Here we start the meat of the little ficcy.

Chapter Two: A Morning of Surprises

Saturday morning came at last, and Ron planned to sleep in.
All of the other Gryffindors had left the dorm when he felt something heavy land on his bed, near his feet.
“What the hell?” he said, sitting up and reaching for it.
A wrapped package, just brown paper with a string tied around it, lay at his feet with a note addressed to him. It was too big and bulky to have come by owl, so Ron figured it was brought by a house elf.
He picked up the card and looked at the strange and elaborate script.

A few things you will be needing and an enlightening little book. Be sure to read it thoroughly.

It was unsigned, so he tossed it aside and pulled the string off of the package.
Inside was the promised book, ‘Your cycle and how to deal with it’ as well as some small packets all wrapped up in pink plastic covers.
There were some strange looking elastic things and a few pills in a vial.
Ron opened one of the pink packages and took out a folded bit of bandages with long hanging gauze at each end.
“Bloody hell. Someone must think I’ve been injured.” he said, tossing the bandage back into the box and picking up the book.
Before he had a chance to open it, his gut lurched and a pain crossed through him making him double over. It eased into his lower belly and settled down slightly, still hurting but not like the initial jolt.
Ron had curled on his side when the pain hit and as it subsided, he was wondering to himself what he had eaten that caused it. He’d had his usual, steak and kidney pie and some sweet potatoes with a bit of corn. A little too much pumpkin juice maybe, but it couldn’t have been the second helping of pudding at the end. He had also drunk two butterbeers in the common room with Seamus and Harry before bed. Maybe the kidneys were bad.
As he contemplated this, another spasm wracked his middle and brought tears to his eyes.
He was ready to go to hospital when he felt something warm on his thigh.
He looked down to see a red stain forming on the leg of his pajamas and his eyes went wide.
“Bloody hell!” he cried pulling his waistband away to see where he had cut himself in his sleep. What he saw froze him on the spot.
His thigh was covered in bright red fluid that seemed to be leaking directly out of the tip of his penis.
Panic filled him, driving him from the bed and into the shared bathroom.
He dropped his pants and began to wash away the fluid on his thigh as he held a wad of tissue to his still leaking length.
Once he was cleaned off, he tossed the saturated toweling into the waste basket and grabbed a fresh supply, frightened by the blood, still feeling the stomach ache and wondering if something had been damaged internally that was now draining out of his prick.
The voice of reason threw him a reminder of the strange deliver he had received.
Ron packed more tissue around his dick before grabbing his pants, returning to his bed and eyeing the open parcel.
“My cycle?” he asked himself lifting the book with his free hand and thumbing it open. It only took a few seconds to figure out that the parcel and his problem were connected.
“Bloody hell,” he cried, dropping onto his bed and looking at the contents, again.