STILL LIFE

Authoresses: Phaea a.k.a. Sarah and M0rbidity a.k.a. Hayden

Disclaimer: We don't own, you don't sue, we don't own, but neither do you.

Full (Alternate) Summary: [AU] Harry and Ron are out of college and living together. Ron is a lazy artist/couch potato who leeches off of Harry's modest café paycheck. A mishap occurs, and Ron's forced to find a job. Then fate throws them a job offer in the form of a girl named Hermione... R/Hr, HP/GW

Typer: M0rbidity

Beta-reader: Phaea

Written By: Both; 'twas difficult. We were arguing for hours on the phone – actually mostly about other stuff, but you get the picture.

M0rbidity's A/N: Okay, this is my first collaboration. I don't know about Phaea but it is mine. So be nice. :D

Phaea's A/N: What she said. Anyway, we hope you enjoy.

CHAPTER ONE: Get a Bloody Job!

"You clogged the toilet?!" Harry shouted incredulously.

"It was an accident!" Ron insisted, coming out of his hiding place from behind the toilet plunger.

"How did you manage to accomplish that?!" Harry shouted, with a look of amused confusion mixed with mild anger on his face.

"I was BORED! So I accidentally flushed a ping pong ball down the toilet!" Ron whined.

"You wouldn't be bored if you had a job!" Harry retorted, "If you had a job, you'd be clogging their toilets instead of ours!"

"Aw, come on Harry, I don't want to get a job! It's so boring!" Ron complained, sighing as he walked out of the bathroom with Harry on his heels.

"Seamus and Dean already have jobs! You need to start paying your share of the rent!" Harry said, following the red-head boy to the living room. Ron turned on the T.V. and covered his ears with two pillows in a child-like manner.

Harry turned off the T.V. right as Seamus and Dean came in.

"Mommy, Daddy, please stop arguing. Seamus can't sleep," Dean said in a small baby voice before bursting out laughing with Seamus.

"Oh shut up you two," Harry snapped.

"Okay, Ron, get a job by tomorrow or we'll ship you off to Fred and George's house," Harry threatened.

Ron instantly dropped the pillows and faced Harry with a horrified expression.

"You wouldn't dare," Ron whispered dangerously.

"Yes I would, now start searching!" Harry threw the newspaper in Ron's face and left the room.

"Uh-oh, Mommy's mad 'cause Daddy's gotta get a job!" Seamus said in the same baby voice, smiling.

"I heard that!" Harry's voice shouted through his room's door.

Harry had trouble staying awake the next day at work. All of the previous night was spent trying to sleep with Ron's incessant worrying and rippings of newspapers. To top it off, when the red-haired artist finally went to sleep, he was snoring as loud as a lawnmower.

Luckily, Harry worked at a café. And at a café, there was an endless limit of coffee.

After two ice cold Cappuccinos, Harry was wide awake and serving customers in between sitting on the counter, strumming on his guitar.

"So how's the band coming along, Harry?" Ginny asked, refilling the coffee machine.

"Not bad, but we still agree that we need a female lead singer..." Harry said pointedly.

"I already told you, I don't sing," Ginny sighed, turning back to serve a customer their coffee.

"But you're so good!" Harry said, trying for the 15th thousandth time. Ginny rolled her eyes and turned back to the customer, smiling sweetly and saying, "What would you like, sir?"

Harry gave up and sat back down on the counter, strumming "Stairway to Heaven" by Led Zeppelin.

When he was about to get into the solo, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Blinking his eyes open, Harry saw a bushy-brown haired girl who had a stack of papers in her arms. She was dressed in a long red jacket and black pants. She looked like a sensible girl from the uptown, rich part of London.

"Erm, hi, my name's Hermione Granger, and I work for the London Museum of Art and I was wondering if I could post some ads for it here," the girl spoke with a voice that boasted her extensive knowledge. Harry knew from the start that she was a dedicated, refined, and fresh-out-of-college girl. Importance and wealth reeked around her.

"Sure," Harry answered, "Here, I'll show you the where the tack board is," Harry said, motioning for the girl to follow him into the lounge in the back of the café.

The room had green walls with vines and ivy painted on. Its carpet was a dull maroon color. Everything smelled of coffee and rosemary.

There were bookshelves on one entire side of a wall, couches and coffee tables were in the center. And in the back, there were small round and square tables for studying or drinking coffee. In front of all the tables, there was a small stage.

After tacking her posters, Hermione stood, looking at all the different people that were leaning against walls, sitting on the velvet, flower-patterned couches, reading, studying, drinking coffee, painting, playing their instruments...There was a feeling that she got from just standing in the room. She was surrounded by all different types of people who all believed in one, same thing; to create art. They all expressed it differently as well. The couches, tables, and chairs were littered with individualistic people. The room reeked of artisans of all sorts; writers, poets, musicians, and starving artists of all kinds.

'I'd love to see their artwork.' Hermione thought as she stared at the framed portraits and paintings on the walls.

"So the museum's looking for new tour guides?" Harry asked, breaking Hermione out of her trance and spiraling her down to earth.

"Huh, what?" she mumbled. Harry laughed and pointed to the bulletin board.

"The museum, it's looking for new tour guides?" Harry asked again.

"Oh yeah, we got a new exhibit so we need more tour guides. Would you happen to know anyone?" she asked.

"Yeah, if you like lazy freeloader artists who should be selling their paintings instead of watching 'The Price is Right' all day in my apartment," Harry laughed. Hermione laughed with him.

Right at that moment, Ginny stuck her head into the doorway.

"Harry! We have angry, rabid, caffeine-lacking customers here! All cranky from lack of Monday morning coffee!" Ginny said, pointing to the line of people at the counter.

"Bloody hell, why can't they just start smoking, it'd probably be less addicting..." Harry said, about to run to the counter before the crowd swallowed it whole, but Hermione stopped him.

"Here," she handed him two tickets, "these are tickets to the exhibit for tonight. Bring your 'lazy freeloader artist' friend and I'll consider hiring him."

"Thanks! But I feel like I owe you something..." Harry dug in his jeans' pockets and finally pulled out a small coupon for two free mocha lattes. "Here, come back sometime-"

"Harry!" Ginny's voice could be heard from the inside of the café, "RABID CAFFEINE-LACKING CUSTOMERS! DO I NEED TO REPEAT MYSELF?!"

"Coming, Ginny!" Harry shouted, running to the counter, in fear of the younger Weasley's wrath.

"Ron! Harry's home!" Dean shouted over the roaring cheer of a football game on TV.

There was an 'eek!' heard and Harry walked cautiously into his room. He found a very dishelved Ron with newspaper clippings hanging off him.

"I'M SO SORRY, HARRY! I COULDN'T FIND A JOB!!" Ron shouted, grabbing around Harry's legs in a pleading sort of way. Newspaper clippings flew off him as he flailed his arms about. Harry looked amused as he tried to kick Ron off, which resulted in the raven-haired youth dragging the red-haired couch potato down the hallway by one leg.

"It's your turn to cook, Seamus," Harry said and grabbed an apple from the refrigerator. He tried to sit on the counter but Ron was weighing him down.

"Ron! Get off already! I'm not mad at you! And stop looking at me like I'm the bloody grim reaper!" Harry shouted, as Ron finally unlatched himself.

"So it was a false threat?" Ron asked, standing up.

"Oh no, I would've let you be the lab rat for Fred and George's experiments but I found a job for you today," Harry said, biting into the apple.

"Really?! What kind of job?"

"The museum two blocks away from the café needs new tour guides. It just got a new exhibit or something. And this girl gave me two free tickets to the opening tonight," Harry responded, putting the half-eaten apple on a plate and stuffing it with abandon into the refrigerator. This was for when Seamus would go on an eating rampage and raid the kitchen of all things edible. It was a regular event, normally happening about once a month or so.

"But museums are boring..." Ron mumbled.

"Don't worry, it's an art museum. Who knows art more than and artist?" Harry pointed out.

"Who's an artist?" Dean asked, walking into the kitchen.

"If you're talking about Ron," Seamus snickered, "Lose all hope."

"Hey, at least I didn't flunk gym in high school!" Ron argued.

"My PINKIE was sprained!" Seamus complained.

"Okay cut it out Tweedledee and Tweedledum!" Harry said, in an attempt to end the argument.

"No, Fred and George are Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Those two are Oompa and Loompa!" Dean said.

"Okay, I wouldn't care if I was Willy Wonka and owned the chocolate factory!" Harry shouted. "Dean, go back to watching the football game. Seamus, cook, damnit, COOK! And don't blow up my kitchen this time! Now, Ron, get dressed in a sensible suit that doesn't have rips, tears, paint or any other kind of stains!"

Ron gave Harry an 'you've got to be kidding me' look.

"On second thought... take one of mine," Harry said, leading Ron back to their room.

After half an hour of choosing suits, which most were declared 'BORING' by Ron, the artist had finally settled for a navy blue tuxedo.

Marching out of the bathroom, Ron waved a tie in Harry's face.

"So how do you put on this belt dealie thingine?"

Harry sighed, thinking, 'It'd be less trouble handling twenty toddlers in a petting zoo...'

TO BE CONTINUED

M0rbidity's A/N: w00t! The title will be explained later! It is based on a painting by Salvador Dali.

Phaea's A/N: And then there was light! We're finally done the first chapter. Second one will be posted soon (we hope). Be forewarned that Hayden is sometimes lazy and Sarah is hyperventilating (I'm starting school ;o;).