A/N: For the "Strange Obsession Challenge." This is seventh year, very AU. Voldemort may or may not still be alive (depends on what happens inside the story), Snape is still Potions master and I have decided that Lockhart is still (unfortunately) sane and (unfortunately) once again the D.A.D.A teacher. Everything subject to change with little or no notice. I own absolutely nothing (except some personal possessions, but that's besides the point xD).

The title to this chapter is a somewhat obscure reference to a comedy film... Can anyone guess it? I'll reveal the answer eventually depending on how many reviews/answers I get.


"Ron, what are you doing? We have class!" Harry glanced at his watch. They were late as it was. Ron was still in his bed, and he responded with a slight grunt. Harry ripped open the hangings around his friend's bed, but an entirely different scene than he had been expecting met his eye.

Ron was sitting on his bed, staring at a lava lamp. Harry only recognised what it was because he had seen one in Dudley's room, long ago. Ron's didn't have a cord, though, and the colours would occasionally change. Ron expelled a blissful sigh and didn't even glance at his best friend.

"Err, I'm getting Hermione." Neither of them spoke a word as Harry ran down the stairs, nearly crashing into Hermione, as she had just begun her ascension of the staircase to the dorm.

"What is going on? I've been waiting here for ten minutes! If Professor Flitwick gives us detention, I'll kill you both!" Speechless, Harry just grabbed her arm and ran up to the dormitory. Upon entering the room, they saw Ron, now lying on the ground, still staring at the lamp directly in front of his face. He spared them a fleeting look before returning his full attention to the lamp.

"Where did Ron get... a lava lamp?" Hermione walked over to his bed, where there was a letter. She picked it up and read aloud:

Dear Ron,

Your mother decided that it was time that I throw out a few of my Muggle artifacts, yet I couldn't part with this. I decided to send it to you, where it would be safe from... err... the conditions and dirt inside my shed. It's called a "Larvae Lamp," I believe. Very celebrated objects in some Muggle circles (or so I've discovered in my research). I just hope that you are able to take care of it well. Hope you are doing well in school.

Dad

"So, his dad sent him this damn thing, and he's been staring at it all night?" Harry gave an offhand shrug, and replied with a quick 'I s'pose.' Hermione glanced at her watch.

"There are only fifteen minutes left in Charms!" Her shriek was enough to disconcert Ron, who retreated to his bed, clutching the lamp. He slammed the hangings closed (as much as one can slam hangings closed) and then sighed. Harry smacked himself in the forehead.

"Well, we'll try and get him to Potions. Flitwick will be much more understanding that Snape." They walked over and softly opened Ron's hangings. He was still staring at the lamp, though looked a bit shell-shocked at Hermione's entrance.

"What do you guys want? Can't I just stay here, and look at this genius Muggle invention?" Harry grabbed Ron by the arm while Hermione grabbed his bag. Ron barely managed to grab his lamp. On the way down to the common room, Ron stared at the entrancing object. While going through the portrait hole, he tripped because he was too engrossed in the colours. Walking down some more stairs, his leg fell through a trick step. He nearly dropped his lamp, and cried out.

"Help me, guys! You guys! Help!" Reluctantly, Harry and Hermione hoisted him out by the arms, rather reluctantly. They continued their way to the dungeons, and after making sure that Ron would be able to walk through the door instead of into the wall, they entered the dungeons just on time.

As they sat down, Snape glared at them.

"Thank you for finally deciding to join us. Here—" he waved his wand and a recipe appeared on the board "—are your instructions. Get to work. Everyone with a sufficient flask of Polyjuice Potion by the end of class will get at least an "A" on this assignment. Impress me, which I think won't happen with you group of idiots, and you might get an "E." "O's" are nearly entirely unattainable with you all. Weasley! What is that thing?" Ron looked up at Snape, clearly scared out of his wits.

"Err, it's a special type of lamp that helps my concentration." Snape walked over and picked up the lamp. Ron nearly made a move to take it back, but he restrained himself. After Snape was done inspecting it, he put it down and walked back up to his desk.

"It seems to me, Weasley, that it is the only thing you are concentrating on! Get that thing out of my sight or leave. NOW!" Ron shifted the lamp so that it was behind his cauldron, or more specifically, no longer in Snape's sight.

A couple minutes later, after Malfoy's silent laughter had subsided and everyone had begun their potions, Hermione and Harry began whispering.

"What the hell is Ron up to?" While Harry was saying this, he accidentally dropped in a bit too much Boomslang skin, turning the potion to the colour of dark mud. Snape walked by, scribbled something on his clipboard, smirked, and walked away.

"I don't know... I never thought of Ron as stupid, but what is up with him today? That lamp has him completely captivated.. We need to get it away from him!" Unfortunately, Snape had been hovering behind them as she whispered to Harry.

"Chatting in class again, Granger? My, my... You and your friend Mr. Potter here talk so much. Fifteen points from Gryffindor, and next time it's fifty." Harry and Hermione worked through silence the rest of class.

During their short break before lunch, Harry and Hermione were working on their large essay ("The Magical Properties of Boomslang Skin Within Potion-Making and the Disastrous results of its Misuse"). Harry had about three inches; Hermione had eight and Ron was sitting in the chair, staring at his lava lamp.

"Whoa! You guys! This looks so cool!" Hermione shot him a scowl, and Harry, his curiosity piqued, glanced at Ron, who was staring at the fire through the spacey object.

"Really, Ron, you should work on this essay. And that Charms essay that Parvati told us about!" Ron continued to stare, so Harry resorted to what he had hoped he wouldn't have to do.

"DUCK!" Everyone in the common room jumped on the floor (and a few screamed). Everyone, that is, except for Ron and Hermione. Hermione simply shot him a look of pure venom and continued consulting a large tome ("The History of Potion-Making: An Encyclopedia of Common Ingredients"). Ron just looked through the lamp some more. As everyone was getting up, grumbling and making angry remarks about Harry's outburst, a small ball of feathers slammed into Ron's head, making him drop the lamp. Ron yelled quickly while Pigwidgeon flew (or more specifically, erratically fluttered) around, and made a dive for the lamp. Not only did he miss it completely as it shattered on the hearth, but he whacked his head on the rough stone part of the floor to boot. He looked at the shattered lamp and instantly tried to repair it.

"Reparo." Nothing happened.

"But... but... I LOVE LAMP!" Ron's declaration to the common room, in his utterly despaired voice made quite a few people stare and snigger.

Pigwidgeon bombarding him with hoots every step of the way. Hermione looked triumphant, and began to write again. Harry walked over to the bottom of the stairs as Pigwidgeon flew into his face. He barely managed to grab the letter and the insane owl flew off to the Owlery for some food. According to the envelope, the letter was from Mr. Weasley. Harry ripped it open, hoping it might have something pertaining to the lamp within. Reading his friend's mail was wrong, but there was something about the letter..

Dear Ron,

Your mother decided that I will be allowed to keep all of my Muggle artifacts for now. And I know that you probably love the Larvae Lamp, but it's one of my favourites, and I would greatly enjoy having it back. You can keep it until Christmas, than send it back (unless you aren't staying there for Christmas, in which case just bring it home). Hope school is still going well. Do well in your classes and don't get in any big trouble.

Love, Dad

Harry walked over and showed Hermione the letter. She smirked and continued writing her essay, only pausing occasionally to measure it and flash triumphant smiles at the shattered lava lamp lying upon the ground. Harry resealed the letter with his wand and walked up the stairs. He slid it under the dormitory door, and as he returned to work on his essay once more, he sincerely hoped that Ron never received another item like that in the mail, let alone have it last more than four hours.

A/N: I would like to thank my excellent beta reader Kimmae. Without her timely responses (and nice reminders), I would be posting stories filled with errors which I missed.

And finally, thanks to you for reading it, even if you don't review. Every single hit is appreciated.