Rent

Note: This is a musical, so the characters do sing. If this is not your “cup of tea,” Don’t read it. If you read, please review. :)



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“Tell the folks at home what you’re doing, Harry.”

Harry rolled his eyes as he stared back up at the camera. Ron was behind it looking at his with an annoying grin on his face.

“I’m writing one great song…” he started, but was interrupted again as the phone rang and went straight to the answering machine. “Speak!” Ron and Harry’s voices shouted on the recording.

“Chestnuts roasting…” Harry placed down his guitar. “Dean!” He said happily. Ron’s face lit up as he ran to pick up the phone. “Dean!” Ron repeated to the man on the other line.

“I’m downstairs!” Dean called on the other line then paused. “Harry picked up the phone?” Ron chuckled.

“No, it’s me.”

“Throw down the key.” Dean said happily.

Harry looked out of the studio window down at the street, and there stood Dean clad in his all-weather coat and boots with a cell phone up to his ear. He waved back to Harry.

Ron reached over the phone and grabbed the keys that were attached to a small leather wallet. He tossed them to Harry, who caught it deftly and threw them down to Dean. Then he turned to Ron.

“A wild night is preordained!”

However, down below Dean noticed two shabby looking men coming towards him with sneers on their faces. “I may be detained…” Dean didn’t have a chance to run as the thugs closed in on him.

Meanwhile, the phone rang. Harry and Ron, who were oblivious to the fact that Dean hadn’t come up yet went to answer it. Harry stopped short when Ron picked up the phone and he listen beside him.

“HoHoHo!” said the person on the other line.

“Neville,” Harry said quietly. Ron sighed.

“What do you want?” He asked. Neville on the other line laughed.

“I’m on my way,” he said briskly.

“Great, fuck!” Ron said under his breath.

“I need the rent.” Neville said gratuitously. Ron bristled.

“What rent…” he said coolly. Harry looked at him with wide eyes. Ron knew that he, too had forgotten. Neville continued.

“This past year’s rent. I let it slide…” Ron cut in before he could finish.

“ ‘Let it slide?!’ You said we were golden!” Harry nodded, even though Neville couldn’t see him, and then he spoke up.

“When you bought the building!” Ron shook his head at Harry, then he said to Neville, “When we were roommates!” Harry nodded absentmindedly.

“Remember—,” Harry looked at Ron with a surprised look on his face. “He lived here!” Neville must have heard him on the other line, because he chuckled.

“Yeah,” he said. “How could I forget? Ron, me, Dean, and Hermione—speaking of Hermione, how is the drama queen?

“She’s performing tonight…” Ron said testily. Harry laughed under his breath at Ron’s uneasiness. Neville continued.

“You still her performance manager?”

“No, two days ago I was dumped…”

“Still dating her?

“No, last month, I was dumped.” Harry was beside himself with laughter. Ron scowled. Harry chuckled in response.

“She’s in love,” he said ignoring Ron’s glare. Neville was oblivious to the two on the other line.

“She got a new man?” he asked innocently.

“Well, no-“ Ron said unwilling to discus it further

“What’s his name?” Harry who had still been listening to the conversation laughed even harder.

“Luna.” Ron said dully.

“Rent, my amigos, is due. Or, I will have to evict you. Be there in a few.” Neville said in a efficient voice.

Ron rolled his eyes as he hung up the phone. Harry was back at his windowsill played Musetta’s theme from La Vie Bohome, just as a fuse blew on the amp causing the power to go out.



Ron turned to his musician friend. “How do you document real life when real life's getting more like fiction each day headlines, bread, lines blow my mind, and now this deadline: "Eviction - Or Pay!" he said, his voice raising in frustration. Harry nodded and stood with his guitar.

“How do you write a song when the chords sound wrong, though they once sounded right and rare? When the notes are sour where is the power you once had to ignite the air?!” Ron rubbed his arms as he walked around looking for matches.

“And we’re hungry and frozen!”

“It’s the life that we’ve chosen!” Harry answered. “How we gonna—,” Ron turned to him. “Pay? We’re not gonna pay.” He answered. “We light candles…” he murmered as he reached under the bed for Harry’s box of candles and matches left over from his druggie days.

“How do you start a fire when there’s nothing to burn and it feels like something’s stuck in your flue?” Harry said walking over to Ron. Ron looked up at him and shrugged.

“How do you generate heat when you can’t feel your feet?!” Ron nodded, agreeing.

“And they’re turning blue.” Harry grinned at Ron as he stood, then he said with as much excitement as Harry usually had, which wasn’t much these days. He went over and picked up his old band posters and held them up for Ron to see. Ron caught on.

“You light up a mean blaze!” Harry nodded. “With posters!”

“And screenplays!” Ron added.

In an office a few miles away…



A lawyer by the name of Luna Lovegood was on the phone. “Don’t screen this Hermione! This is Luna—your substitute production manager… hey, hey! Don’t change the subject Hermione! The digital delay—Well it didn’t blow up exactly…There may have been a teeny tiny spark, nothing to —No! You’re not calling Ron!”



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dean Thomas down the street…

The thugs finally ran away, leaving him bloodied and bruised. He tried to stand, but found he felt the wall in front of him spin. “How do you stay on you stay on your feet, when on every street it’s trick-or-treat? And tonight it’s trick! ‘Welcome back to town, Dean!’ Oh, need to lie down, everything’s brown…” Dean’s eyes rolled back. “Uh, oh, I feel sick…getting’ dizzy…” Dean scramble around as he watched street urchins gather at Ron and Harry’s block chanting “we’re not gonna pay! Rent!”

Dean reached up and touched the wound on his head. “Uh…I can’t think,…I need a drink…”



Just then, Ron from the window asked Harry, “Where is Dean? Harry shrugged as he lit a fire into the trash can full of paper. “We’re not gonna pay!” he yelled out of the window. Ron grabbed his camera as he got a shot of the outside where people who had caught on the Harry and Ron’s yelling, were chanting, “We’re not gonna pay!”

“Zoom in, as they burn the past to the ground! And feel the heat of the future’s glow!” Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“How do you leave the past behind when it keeps finding ways to get to your heart?”

Dean, finally tired from trying to stand, lay down on the street. “It reaches way down deep and tears you inside out, till you’re torn apart.” People still danced around shouting. “Rent!”



Harry stepped up to open the window as if to sense his friends distress but instead he and sang to the night: “How do you connect in an age where strangers, landlords, lovers, your own blood cells, betrayed…”

Everyone outside joined in, “What binds the fabric together when the winds of change keep ripping away?!”

Neville had just gotten out of his car when he heard everyone singing and tossing ignited paper to the ground from their apartments. He shook his head.

“Draw a line in the sand and then make a stand!” he said in answer. Harry, who had just seen Neville from the window called to Ron, “Use your camera to spar.”

“Use your guitar!” Ron called back cheekily. Everyone outside yelled, “When they act tough- you call their bluff! We’re not gonna pay! We’re not gonna pay!” Ron grinned when he looked out of the window to see Neville surrounded by impromptu protesters. He and Harry ran down stairs to greet him.

TBC



Next Chapter: Dean meets an Angel. Thanks for reading. REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW!