DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER.

A/N: Hmm. People seem to like this. So, to respond to the reviewers:

LibraHorse: Well, I hope you think this chapter is as good as the last few. I'll read your fic when I can, although I don't think any advice I can give would be worth anything. Just ask WaterGoddess9, I'm horrible with advice.

HealerAriel: Thank you, and I can only hope this causes other such giggling fits.

AustereBlackCat: It's always nice to hear that I'm funny. Thank you.

Oh! And don't forget to review. (Please? Pretty please?)

Chapter 4: Mystery! Suspense! Exclamation Points!

Ron was disappointed that both his plans to get people to pity – I mean LOVE – him had failed. So he'd gone up to the astronomy tower to cry. And whine. And wail and mope and lament about his sorry life.

Everyone was happy he was gone.

Harry and Hermione were in the library. Hermione still didn't believe Harry wasn't stupid and so decided to find out herself.

"What is your owl's name?"

"Hedwig."

"How old are you?"

"17."

"What is your deepest ambition?"

"To be a gunfighter of the Old West."

"Who… is Ron?"

"The youngest boy in the disturbingly large Weasley clan."

Hermione nodded. Now, for the hardest question of all!

"How was Voldemort defeated?"

Harry took a deep breath. "Well, one night … Skrewts and flamingos … scuttled … blah blah … secret society …"

The telling took well over three hours.

"And that was the end of Voldemort."

Hermione had stopped listening. "Wow. Right. Uhm. Well, I guess I was wrong, you're not stupid after all."

"Thanks Hermione." Harry pulled some candy out of his pocket. "Where's Ron?" he asked before shoving all of the candy in his mouth.

"I don't know. Pissing and moaning about not being appreciated probably."

"Ah. He's so pathetic sometimes." Harry chewed his candy thoughtfully (as if that's even possible).

"Yes." Hermione was a bit irritated. Harry hadn't even offered her any candy. What a jerk.

Meanwhile:

Albus Dumbledore was sitting in his office. Twinkling and smiling and being an omniscient old bastard.

His plan was working! Harry was no longer stupid, Hermione was a complete bitch, Draco had lost his mind – Er… Fallen in love, and soon Ron would be dead!

Fortune was smiling on ol' Dumbledore. Wait, no… someone mysterious was smiling at Dumbledore.

"Cheers, our plan is working," said the mysterious person in the shadows.

"What plan, Remus? And what do you mean our?"

"I don't know. I'm not even sure why I'm here."

"You're here to add mystery and suspense to the 'plot' (not like this fic has one of those though)," Seamus's voice echoed through the room.

"What was that? Was it God? I didn't know God was Irish."

"God is not Irish you ninny. That was Seamus Finnigan. To be quite honest, I'm surprised he has the strength to speak. He's been quite busy." Dumbledore leaned forward and raised an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling even more. He leaned back, his eyes now at their regular "twinkle level." "Well, now that you've discovered why you're here, dispense with some mystery and suspense."

"Uhm… Nymphadora's pregnant!"

Dun dun DUN!

Lightning flashed! The sky darkened! Mrs. Norris keeled over, dead as a doornail! Argus Filch squealed and grasped his chest before dying too!

Dumbledore was shocked. Perhaps his omniscience only extended throughout Hogwarts! But … that would mean … That would mean he wasn't omniscient at all :GASP: NOOOOO! "Who's the father?"

"I AM!" Three voices yelled out as three men burst into the room.

They were Charlie Weasley, Severus Snape, and Lucius Malfoy :GASP:

"Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore began, "weren't you in Romania? How could you have impregnated Nymphadora?"

"What? Well… Uh… I don't exactly … How did I get here?"

Seamus's voice came once more, "You're a minor character, hardly ever mentioned, not really important at all. Therefore, the author of this fic can do whatever she wants with you. Even make you a possible father of a baby who may or may not exist."

"God? Is that you?" Charlie was surprised. He'd never thought God would have an Irish accent. "I didn't know you were Irish."

"I'm not God."

"Oh."

Dumbledore turned to Snape. "Severus! You and Nymphadora? Honestly!" Dumbledore chuckled.

Actually, Dumbledore chuckled at the thought of Snape with any woman.

Severus was highly offended. "Sir, I assure you, I would never consider having physical relations with a member of the 'most noble house of Black.' No offense Lucius."

"None taken." Although he'd married one, Lucius didn't much enjoy the company of the Blacks either.

"Well," said Dumbledore, "that cuts out most of the pure-bloods." He paused. "Tell me, Severus, when was the last time you had sex?"

Snape paled considerably, which was quite a feat since he was already extremely pale from swooping about in the dungeons.

(With the combination of Snape's ultra-pale skin, Lucius's shiny, white-blonde hair, and Dumbledore's excessive twinkling, it was a wonder no one went blind.)

"Sir, I … I… STOP QUESTIONING ME WITH YOUR TWINKLY EYES!" He ran, sobbing, from the room. 'No one can find out about my secret, forbidden love for (insert name of underage muggle-born witch here)!'

Remus was HOWLING with laughter and Lucius almost pissed himself laughing so hard.

Dumbledore frowned at the Malfoy. "Lucius, why are you here? Weren't you in prison? Surely you're not the father?"

"Actually, there's a funny story behind that whole prison thing… But maybe later. I'm here to tell you I think you suck. And then I'm going to find that worthless son of mine and I'm going to beat him senseless with my cane and laugh." He grinned in anticipation. "As for being the father of Nymphadora's unborn child… No."

"Actually –"

"Not now, Remus." Dumbledore needed to find out who the father was. He paced, and paced, and then stopped pacing. He had the answer! He was sure of it! "I know who it is! Through deductive reasoning, and impressive brainpower, I've come to the conclusion that the father of Nymphadora Tonks's unborn child is none other than the late Sirius Black!" He was very pleased with himself.

Remus was dumbfounded. "What? No! He was her cousin! No. I'm the father."

Dumbledore sighed. He'd forgotten about the cousin thing. "Remus, what are you talking about?"

"Well, I'm the father. Nymphadora and I are getting married in a month." He pulled out an invitation and handed it to Dumbledore.

Charlie, Lucius, Dumbledore, and Seamus Finnigan's voice congratulated him heartily.

"Ah! It's late, and I'm running low on chocolate. I'm off." Remus Lupin hurried away.

Charlie didn't like being alone with the deranged Lucius and Dumbledore of the twinkly eyes, and snuck out while they weren't looking.

Lucius swept out of the room in search of his prey. Son! I meant son!

Dumbledore hummed. Then whistled. Then he shoved some lemon drops, a cockroach cluster, a chocolate frog, and an acid pop in his mouth. Yum!

Meanwhile:

Ron was still pissing and moaning in the tower.

Harry was sneaking around in his invisibility cloak, as was his habit.

Draco was hiding from his father in the Muggle Studies section of the library while simultaneously sending sexy "come hither" looks at Hermione.

Hermione was studying and couldn't be bothered.

Ginny was cursing her mother for naming her Ginevra. (Not actually cursing, mind you.)

Luna Lovegood was singing "Weasley Is Our King" while she honed her "Avada Kedavra" skills.

Blaise was experimenting with purple eyeliner.

And the teachers were playing "truth or dare" in the Room of Requirement, and every so often a passing student would hear hysterical laughter, small explosions, or strange exclamations like "Severus! Where'd you learn how to use a whip?" or "You really do do impressive transfiguration, Minerva!" These exclamations would be followed by loud giggles.

The next day at breakfast:

All the teachers at the staff table looked horribly hungover. Because they were.

Harry grinned when Snape turned a peculiar shade of green when the meal appeared. Then he said, "Hermione, I think it's time we did something about Ron."

Ron was crying. He was stuffing his face and tears were streaming down his cheeks.

"You're right, Harry. Let's come up with a plan."

"Why? We could just use 'Avada Kedavra' on him, right?"

"Oh! Well, yes. Sorry, for a long time the only person I wanted to kill was you, and I couldn't use 'Avada Kedavra' on you because your mother blah blah blah, so I always had to come up with elaborate plans to kill you. It's the evil genius/mad scientist inside of me I'm afraid. None of my plans worked though…"

"Yeah, but they were still really good," Harry said sympathetically, "I bet they would've worked great on anyone else." Harry nodded for emphasis.

"Do you really think so?"

Honestly! Couldn't she recognize an emphatic nod when she saw one? Brightest witch in her year… PLEASE!

"Of course. Now, I say we do it tonight."

"Sorry Harry. I'm busy with Draco tonight." She sneered across the Hall at the pale Slytherin, who promptly swooned.

Oh, what a sneer!

Harry gagged. "I meant Ron. We kill Ron tonight."

"Oh, yes, good idea."

Ron was sad. He'd heard every word. It's not like they'd bothered whispering or anything. He tried to get them to see how valuable comic relief is, and made a joke. The three of them laughed. Ha ha.

Harry and Hermione were still going to kill him.

Luna came over, singing "Weasley Is Our King."

"Hullo Luna," said Harry.

"Luna." Hermione not only said that condescendingly, but she also managed the formidable task of looking down her nose at the girl while she was sitting and Luna was standing.

"Hello," said Ron glumly.

"Ronald, I've been thinking about this for a long time, and I'm sorry, but it needs to be done. I know you understand."

"Are you going to kill me, Luna?" Ron knew the answer of course.

"Yes. Good-bye, Ronald. AVADA KEDAVRA!"

A jet of green light shot out from her wand, hitting him on the side of his head.

And so passed Ronald Bilius Weasley, second youngest of the Weasleys.

Dumbledore stood up. "I believe a toast is in order:

To Luna Lovegood, the girl who killed Ron!"

Everyone stood and raised their goblets as they said solemnly, "To Luna!" The students downed their pumpkin juice and cheered wildly, and the professors shut their eyes, and grimaced. Hangovers, what a pain.