Society for Nutters Obsessed with Ronald
Potter47
Author's Note:
Despite the title, and main theme, this story has absolutely nothing to do with the
Society for Nutters Obsessed with Ginny.
In fact, this is just another story,
sprung from the same idea, which I decided to revisit. It does not take place in the same universe,
and nothing that happened in that story has happened prior to the start of this one.
Or -- quite possibly -- the preceding sentences have merely been written to confuse you.
This is, in fact, the prequel to the Society for Nutters Obsessed with Ginny.
Or, if you like, I now am lying to you and was truthful before. Whichever you prefer.
Also, before I forget:
WARNING:
DO NOT TAKE THIS FIC SERIOUSLY! IT WILL HARM YOUR MIND!
"Welcome everyone," Luna's voice rang through the enlarged Room of Requirement, "to the first meeting of the Society for Nutters Obsessed with Ronald."
"Everyone?" said Hermione perplexedly, "There's no-one else here, just you and--"
Hermione stopped short, and her eyes widened. "What did you say this thing was called?" she demanded.
"The Society for Nutters Obsessed with Ronald," replied Luna cheerfully, gesturing towards something behind Hermione, who didn't bother looking.
"OBSESSED?" exclaimed Hermione. "I'm not obsessed with Ron! How did I get here? Whose crazy idea was this?"
"Well, this is the Room of Requirement, Hermione," said Luna logically, looking down from the small raised section of floor, on which a podium had been placed. "I believe that whoever the Room decides is required to be here, is here, at S. N. O. R. E."
"Snore?" said Hermione disbelievingly. "But there's no 'e' in Ronald--"
"As I was saying," Luna addressed the empty room, "welcome to the Society for Nutters Obsessed with Ronald. We have all come here today -- voluntarily, mind you -- to help each other with our obsession with the second youngest Weasley, Ronald. First of all, I do not blame a single one of you for your obsession. All of us have the same disease, merrily chomping its way through our being, until nothing is left of us but unwavering devotion--"
"I DO NOT!" cried Hermione. "I have no such thing inside of me! I'm not obsessed with Ron! I don't even fancy Ron! I fancy--"
"Yes?"
Hermione's head snapped round. She didn't see the speaker, but she did see something she had not before. A large, flat, red-haired, life-size, cardboard cut-out of Ron Weasley was standing in the centre of the room.
"Who said that?" she questioned.
"Me, of course," said the life-size image. Or at least, that's what Hermione thought it was...
"WHAT!" Hermione exclaimed once again, surprised to see this was a magical large, flat, red-haired, life-size, cardboard cut-out of Ron Weasley. It made things that much more miserable.
Hermione spun round to Luna. "Luna, I've never started one of these societies, but if I ever did, I would most definitely not have a talking stand up of the person I was obsessing about! Wouldn't it kind of get in the way; seem as though it wasn't a secret society anymore?"
"That's not a--"
"I asked a question!" cried the poster, wavering slightly on its two-dimensional feet. "You were going to say who you fancied? It's really been driving me barmy, trying to figure that out. Hey," he said (or perhaps it?), "you're right. Why are you here? You most definitely aren't obsessed with me. Even I'm not that dense."
"Exactly!" said Hermione, blatantly ignoring his first question. "What in the world am I here for?"
"Well," said Luna, biting her lip and sitting down on the small, slightly raised area, legs dangling off the end (the slightly raised area, had, of course, grew to be a more-than-slightly-raised area, so that she could do so; it was the Room of Requirement after all), "the obvious explanation is that the readers would be outraged if you weren't included at all. They're mad enough because of the pairings in the Society for Nutters Obsessed with Ginny."
"The what?" said Ron, looking at Luna suspiciously. "There's a society for nutters obsessed with my sister? Who's crazy idea was that?"
"I've always wondered," said Luna, changing the subject abruptly, "which is the proper way; 'whose' or 'who's'? Because when Hermione said, 'Whose crazy idea was this?' it was 'whose.' But when Ronald said it, it was--"
"It's--" began Hermione, but she stopped abruptly. "Wait a minute. Don't tell me I'm being taken out of character, so that I can be paired with Ron again! I should know that! But suddenly, I'm not quite as smart..."
"It's either that," said Ron, "or I suddenly get a dozen times as many brains as I did before. I hate it when that happens. It's so annoying: one minute, I'm in-character, goofing off and annoying you, and the next I'm quoting Shakespeare!"
Which, of course, is really a secret obsession of his. But for the purpose of this--
"It is NOT!" Ron yelled at the ceiling. "I shouldn't even know who Shakespeare is!"
"Oh, no," said Hermione, trying desperately to keep her mouth shut. "Not again. The author isn't supposed to be able to interact with us! Even if it is funny! Whenever the text that is written somehow becomes audible to us, I--"
"Wait a minute!" said Ron, who had been thinking quite logically while Hermione was blabbering nonsense. "I just had an epiphany -- a word which here means 'sudden burst of intellect, telling me the solution', despite the fact that I shouldn't be able to define epiphany. Right now, I know who Shakespeare was. I shouldn't. In fact, there is no evidence suggesting that Shakespeare even existed in this world. But I just realised; who randomly inserts Shakespeare when it is completely unnecessary?"
"Barb Lamond Purdom?" suggested Luna. "Whose/who's middle name was originally not Lamond, but a different 'L' name, which (or is it witch?) she dropped when she was married?"
"No, not her," said Ron, knowing quite well who B. L. Purdom was, even though he shouldn't. "Though that is true."
"I know the answer!" said Hermione happily. "Yay! Oh no! I'd never say 'yay...'But the answer, obviously, is Steve Kloves! There was absolutely no reason to put that frog choir into the third film. It was completely unnecessary, and Shakespearean! I bet he's writing this!"
Of course, despite the fact that all reasoning pointed to this being the correct answer, (if you could call besmirching my good name by calling me Steve Kloves reasonable), it was not true.
"I am not Steve Kloves," I say, quite obviously breaking from the third-person that this story has been till now. "Here, see for yourself."
And with a pop, the three inhabitants of the room became four. A bewildered American screenwriter had just appeared in the Room of Requirement, and the story was returned to the rightful third-person.
"Hello?" said Kloves confusedly. "Do you live here?"
"No," said Hermione murderously. "I do not live here."
"Who are you?" said Kloves, "For that matter, who am I?"
"Oh, stop the bloody Lockhart impersonation, Kloves," said the Ron-poster, who over the past however-many pages was not once referred to as a poster of any kind, but as a Pinocchio-like real boy. Sadly, he was now a poster again.
"Well, why am I here?" said Kloves, himself once again (if this author really knew what 'himself' was like).
The almighty and great author told you to be, I thought.
"NOT AGAIN!" cried Hermione. "If you're going to communicate with us, how about making a piece of paper appear, or something that would go with the Room of Requirement theme?"
Suddenly, a piece of paper appeared atop Ron's head. Of course, he didn't really have a head, just a two-dimensional cardboard cut-out, so the parchment (as it couldn't possibly be simple paper in Hogwarts) fell behind him. Hermione went to get it, and swiftly unfolded it. It was brief, and to the point. Written in expert calligraphy, was the word
and Hermione crumpled the paper in her left hand. (Not that it was specified which hand she picked it up in).
"This is incredibly funny," she said cheerfully.
"No it's not! It's incredibly frustrating!" she said not-so-cheerfully.
"Whatever flies your broom!" she said cheerfully, once again.
"NO I DIDN'T!"
"Yes, I did," she said, sounding like Luna would, if she ever had the unpleasant occasion of being split into two personalities.
"I do not sound like Luna!"
After a minute or two of split-personality insanity from Hermione, the three rounded on Kloves, though Ron really stayed perfectly still, as a cardboard cut-out cannot round on anybody.
"You really need to stop 'shipping," said Ron venomously. "Screenwriters shouldn't 'ship. Especially something that wasn't in the book--"
"But wait!" cried the reader. "Of course there's Ron/Hermione in the books! It's obvious! Remember the Yule Ball?!"
"That's not what I said!" said Ron irritably. "I said there wasn't any in the book, not the books. The Prisoner of Azkaban did not centre on Ron and Hermione at all. There was no romantic tension between them; most definitely nothing about 'moving closer'. In fact, the only accurate portrayal of someone fancying someone else was me and Madam Rosmerta!"
"Gasp!" gasped the readers. "That's indecent! An outrage! A scandal!"
"On page two-hundred, of the American edition," said Luna, though it is not clear where she found the American edition, even in the Room of Requirement, "is the following passage. Hem, hem:
'That's Madam Rosmerta,' said Ron. 'I'll get the drinks, shall I?' he added, going slightly red."
And so Luna finished. The faces of all in the room (save Kloves) were staring at her in shock. Not to mention all those playing along at home -- a phrase which here means 'reading and thoroughly getting caught up in the nonsensical story.'
"You didn't have to read it...," said Ron, going slightly red (as red as a cardboard cut-out could go).
"How does she have the book, when--" said Hermione, but was cut off by Kloves.
"See! I was right!"
"Gasp!" gasped the readers again, though it was not entirely clear whether (Weather? thought Luna) it resulted from the shock that Rosmerta/Ron was indeed shown in the canon for three whole words, or the fact that Steve Kloves actually got something right.
And meanwhile, back at the ranch, it was entirely too clear to anyone who had read Lemony Snicket that the author had read Lemony Snicket.
"You know," said Luna, "I bet the author's read Lemony Snicket. He or she has said 'a word which here means...' twice already, and now has repeated the 'meanwhile, back at the ranch,' cliche."
"Really?" said Steve Kloves Lockhartedly. "You mean writer's can read books? Who would've thought..."
"'Writers' doesn't have an apostrophe. But that's not the point," said Hermione, using a phrase which here means "not the main idea."
"See!" cried Luna, but was cut off by Hermione, finishing her thought.
"We still need to find out what I'm doing here, when I should be at the first meeting of S.N.O.W.S!
"Snows?" said Ron's poster, speaking for the first time in nearly a page. "What's snows?"
"Erm...," said Hermione, clearly hiding the fact that she was a regular at the Society for Nutters Obsessed with Sirius.
"I AM NOT! Why would I be obsessed with Sirius? Sirius is dead! Anyway, it stands for--"
"Yes?" asked Ron, Luna, and Kloves.
"Yes?" asked the reader and the author.
"Well, it doesn't matter what it stands for, but it doesn't stand for that!" Hermione concluded, thankful that she had not revealed her secret; that she was really a regular at the Society for Nutters Obsessed with Slytherin!
"She is not!" cried the Ron-poster. "She would never be obsessed with Slytherin!"
"Er...well..." began Hermione, found-out-ed-ly. "That's not exactly true!" she exclaimed.
Society for Nutters Obsessed with Salazar? asked the author, using his/her skills of Occlumency, to--
"No!" said Hermione. "And it's 'Legilimency,' not 'Occlumency!' Occlumency is blocking things out. Legilimency is getting into someone else's mind!"
Whatever. How about Society for Nutters Obsessed with Seekers?
"No!" said Hermione crossly. "I'm not obsessed with seekers! I don't even like Quidditch!"
This, of course, was a lie. We all know that Hermione had a love for both Quidditch and flying that she never told anyone.
"Then how would you know?" asked Hermione. "And I don't!"
Whatever. Society for Nutters Obsessed with Snitches?
"I told you I didn't like Quidditch!"
Streelers?
"A giant snail? Like that would happen!"
Snicket? Lemony Snicket?
"NO!" said Hermione. "Why would I go to a Muggle book author society? That makes no sense..."
Snape?
The room became deathly silent. Hermione couldn't breath. She--
"It's 'breathe' not 'breath'," corrected Hermione softly. "There's an 'e'."
"Yes," said Luna. "Which brings us back to S. N. O. R. E. Let's take attendance..."